One frequent sorry consequence of waiting out a big wind storm is that when it ends you find it has taken all the wind with it. We had some of this, but were able to sail for other parts of the passage from Hyannis. Mooring to mooring 7:02 to 6:35; so a long day, but a good one. We had tide from the get go until 3 pm and especially in the Pollock Rip Channel, where, with tide and full sail, we made nine knots. "Rip" -- even the name of this channel sounds scary! And as usual with places I've never sailed before, a look at the reef lined path on the chart makes it seem like it's quite an obstacle course -- until you get there. In fact, the "channel" is wide, with lots of additional room for tacking, if needed, outside the reds and greens before you get to twelve foot water. We went through of a close starboard reach. We actually cut the end of the Channel, passing through an unbuoyed but wide area as we turned north. Still it could be a hard piece at night, on a stormy day or against the tide. We passed south of Monomoy Island, the big sandbar protruding south from the Cape's SE elbow and we were in the Atlantic. But that is where the wind died and we did a lot of motoring with the main up for stability, though this was not needed, given the calm seas.
And the "forearm" part of the image of the upper Cape curves a bit, gradually more westerly, by which we had hoped to find wind which was slightly off our starboard bow. But I t came up strongly, suddenly and on out port side at 3 pm, letting us sail most of the rest of the way.
We had been told to expect whales if we went ten miles off shore where they swim with the tuna. But adding that much mileage was not in the cards on such a long passage day. It was off Race Point, with the tide racing east, against us, that we passed a pod of whales, about five of them. They were going west, with the flow, and took the opportunity to blow, spouting their beautiful but foul smelling breath near us and arching their backs perhaps three feet out of the water. The ones we saw did not raise their tails, however, an element of their final deep dive. They leave a slick of smooth water in their wake. Magnificent creatures despite their halitosis. What we dId not see all day until PTown harbor: any sailboats.
I also learned how big the Cape is. It was on our port side all day long. Lene thought it would have been shorter going the other way round the Cape, clockwise, through Woods Hole, up Buzzards Bay, through the Canal and across Cape Cod Bay. I thought not, because we have gone that way about five times, dividing the trip into three or four shorter separate day passages. Next morning I plotted it out and the Admiral was right, but shorter by only three of the 68 miles. The advantage of Lene's route is that unlike the Atlantic route, there are places to put in if a storm comes up. But I'm glad we went the way we did because it is water that I have never sailed before and permitted our vacation to complete a circumnavigation of The Cape and their string of westward extending Elizabeth Islands. Besides, we have many stops planned in Buzzards Bay on the way home. PTown is the farthest from home we will get, and we will be half way through the days we allotted for this cruise here.
The Provincetown Marina has been vastly upgraded in terms of the docks, launches, office and showers. More improvements are scheduled. The basic water is the same, but the owners of the adjacent real estate who have the "rights" to its mooring field can charge higher prices and make more money by gentrifying it.
I contemplated a stop in Wellfleet, on the Bay side, on the way home but decided to call the marina there because of rumors of low water, despite the cruising guide stating at least six feet at low tide. I had anchored way out in the outer harbor, maybe three miles from town, with three friends maybe ten years ago. Nope, there is now only one foot of water at low tide and you have to avoid the four hours centered on low tide even to come in by dink. Until it is dredged, it is on our "off limits" list.
We walked a lot in PTown, pshopped a bit (two nice Vietnamese silk pillows), visited some of the town's 78 galleries and went to the summer stock theater. It was a play about a group of non-college educated mostly white men, who had been laid off from their factory jobs in a rust belt city, Buffalo, when the plant closed. Among other people things they took a few drugs and contemplated suicide. In short, here was the core demographic of Donald Trump's constituency. But they were portrayed very sympathetically and lovingly. It was a musical: The Big Monty.
Last time we were here, in 2013, we met up with my granddaughter, which was a thrill. This time the highlight of our stay was hanging with Greg and Kathy. Greg is an artist and another member of my book group. (There are only eight of them plus me, so with Lee in Hyannis and Greg here in PTown, I connected with a quarter of them. I have been a member of the group only about 21 years and I'm still the rookie; talk about stability!) We spent all afternoon and had dinner together before they took us to Stop and Shop for three large canvas bags of foodstuffs, and then drove us to the launch dock. During the afternoon we visited the National Parks Service's Provincelands Visitors Center and then took a long walk around a huge lilypond in the Beech Forest, near the beach. But mostly we just talked and talked. Great folks.
The only disappointment here is that one of the four little packages we bought on line to be shipped here, did not arrive, though we got an email message that it did.
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