Post #10: There’s a LOT of New Jersey coastline

 Tuesday, September 22 to Thursday, September 24

The weather gods have been with us and so we have been making tracks these past few days—Great Kills to Atlantic Highlands to Atlantic City to Cape May to halfway up the Delaware Bay to a secluded little anchorage at the mouth of the Cohansey River. We’ve logged about 170 miles (that’s about 28 hours) in the past 4 days.....and we are still in NJ!  Any of you who have driven the NJ turnpike know exactly how we feel.

We decided to move Onward from Staten Island to Atlantic Highlands on Tuesday.  It was only a 10-mile voyage but we knew it would save us 3 miles on Wednesday when we went all the way to Atlantic City in one day.  I know that doesn’t sound like much but it shaved a half hour off a very, very long day.  I’d been to the area once before with my Tri Delta sorority sisters about 10 years ago.  Lynda shares with her extended family an original Sears Roebuck built-from-a kit house right on Sandy Hook, the tip of NJ we would have to get past on Wednesday.

Tuesday was our 41st wedding anniversary so we drove the dinghy (our grandson, Dillon, has christened it Upwards) to a waterfront restaurant with outdoor seating to celebrate. David abstained but I had “Mermaid Water” to go with my grouper tacos.

And we could still see NYC in the distance.  It will be many months before we see it again.

Wednesday morning we woke at what my friend Kathy calls “O dark thirty” and began our longest day sailing—evah.

The Jersey coast is a long string of sandy barrier islands, beckoning those of us who love the beach. I envision enjoying long warm days kissed by the sun, with sand in my toes and a good beach read in my hands.  Not on this trip, however:

My friend Charlene asked if we would be on the ICW through NJ.  There is a waterway behind the barrier islands but our draft is too deep (5’4”) and our mast is too tall (63’) for some of the fixed bridges.  So we took the “outside” route.  It was mostly a smooth ride but as we neared Atlantic City, I was glad to have taken a half a Bonine to take the edge off the rollers still hanging around from Teddy.

Finally, about 6 p.m. we turned up the channel to Atlantic City, set an anchor, ate leftovers, and fell fast asleep.  Anchoring took some thought, however, as we were actually in a tidal area.  That means that within the next 6 hours when the tide turns, the boat will also swing 180 degrees.  Think back to those dreaded geometry classes in high school.  Where you drop the anchor is the center point of a circle whose radius is the amount of “rode,” i.e., the amount of chain and/or line you deploy between your anchor and the boat.  You have to be sure that the boat is safe (won’t go aground, won’t hit any other boats, etc.) within the entire circumference of the circle.  Fortunately with the wonders of GPS we can set an anchor alarm that not only shows us the depths within the circle but also will wake us up if the boat drifts out of the circle.  Makes for a much more restful night’s sleep.  

Although it was pretty quiet given Covid times, I don’t think Atlantic City ever sleeps:

On Thursday we enjoyed a more leisurely breakfast and then headed to Cape May.  As David said about Atlantic City, “We came. We slept. We left.” In the morning light, the architecture was certainly more interesting than the ubiquitous glass boxes being built in Boston, I must admit:

At only 37 nautical miles south, it seemed like a half-day jaunt to get to Cape May, compared to 82 nm the day before.  Our grand kids (5 & 7) have new desks for their virtual school lessons and I have a new desk, too.  I really like my view:

While underway David is mostly at the helm and I am navigating using paper charts, an app called AquaMap that tracks Onward in real time, a tide and current app called AyeTides and an aptly named app called Windy.  At the helm station we have a Raymarine C90W chart plotter that has a zillion functions on it.  Here’s one of my favorite screens because it actually helps you steer “down the road.” Reminds me of those arcade games where you sit in the driver’s seat, hands on the wheel and race down a track against your family and friends. I love those!  Back when zoom meant something else.

We knew we were near Cape May when we saw the roller coasters and Ferris wheel at Wildwood, NJ. 

But NJ’s shoreline isn’t all amusement parks, casinos, boardwalks, hotels and hi-rises.  The areas that have been protected from human development are still havens for flora and fauna, including horseshoe crabs, migrating songbirds, and of course, osprey. This is the entrance channel to Cape May:

Yesterday we spent the afternoon at Utsch’s Marina, hooked up to shore power and water on the dock.  Such bliss—we washed the boat, washed our clothes, washed ourselves, and enjoyed dinner outside at the Lobster House, a Cape May institution for 81 years.  You can watch the commercial fishing fleet at work while enjoying today’s catch. This was a real find and a bargain to boot.  David had a combo platter that included broiled shrimp, scallops, a fish fillet, and stuffed clam with baked potato and cole slaw.  For $15.95.  Honest!