September 8 -12 -- Block Island to Stonington to Duck Island Roads to Port Jeff to the HYC to Our Apartment

This was the end of the cruise. Four consecutive passage days of 15, 28, 31 and 33 NM. Having spent the last two of our three days in Block Island aboard, we did not set foot off the boat again until we were at the Harlem --  except for a couple of hours for lunch in Stonington.
This is not quite the itinerary I wanted. I thirsted to go the the historic town of Westerly RI, to add another RI port to  ILENE's list, but it didn't work out that way. (Actually, the boat could not get up to the historic old town because of insufficient depth in the Pawcatuck River. But I saw an area on the Connecticut side of the channel near the mouth of the Pawcatuck with 7-8 feet of water at low tide where we could have anchored, and then dinked the last 3 - 4 miles up the river. A marina operator I called told me that the Bridge Restaurant up there has a dinghy dock and the restaurant told me that if we had lunch we could leave the dink for a few more hours to explore. This would have been a weekday after the season.
But the admiral told me in no uncertain terms, several times,  that she did NOT want to go to Westerly. It would have extended the cruise by another day and by this time "home" was ringing in her ears as clearly as  her "nos" were ringing in mine. And after I had subjected her to a fearful night of rock and roll on the mooring in Block Island during the hurricane, prudence dictated this would be an opportune time to accede to her wishes. Next time: Westerly!  Also, good old Stonington was conveniently located, with Dodson's friendly and efficient marina renting moorings and we had a late lunch in the Dog Watch Cafe, located on Dodson's grounds. I recall that place as for ice cream but it has upgraded itself into a good eatery over the last few decades. Hmmm? I wonder if the restaurant is named after the fact that a patron there can watch a procession of sea dogs eager to take a walk after a passage. A "dog watch" is a two hour watch in the night that provides for rotation of the crew though all of the watches so no one gets stuck on watch perpetually from midnight to four a.m.
Leaving the pond of Block Island we had the main up already and tried to sail to Watch Hill Passage, but we were beating back and forth against the current and not making much progress. After an hour of this I furled the head sail and we motored straight for the passage. But the wind shifted south and suddenly we were sailing again so I doused the engine. It was close hauled on port but we made it through the passage, around the three reds and in past the second sea wall before motoring to the mooring.
Next morning the wind was still out of the south but on our port  quarter. and it was a slow, relaxed and fun sail to Duck Island Roads. The MFD generates our track on the electronic chart as a thin pink line showing where we have been. And our anchor in Duck Island Roads was maybe 50 feet from where in had anchored in early August. Sixty feet of snubbed chain in 12.5 feet of water at mid tide with no other boats nearby and light northerlies made for a calm serene night.
The passage across the Sound and west to Port Jeff saw less wind, and empty seas. Weekdays in  eastern Long Island Sound, after the season there is not a lot of traffic. We had to motor most of the way, though we shut down the engine and sailed for the last couple of hours. When the wind lessened  again and we were near Port Jeff, about two miles off the north shore of Long island, I doused sails and then turned on the motor. But no "whirr."  We were safely off shore in light wind so the half hour it took me to take everything out of the aft cabin to reach under the sole to the starter engine to shove the wire go it back into place was not hazardous. Entering Port Jeff, we were on someone's mooring very close to where we had been on the way out. One always hesitates to pick up a stranger's mooring -- how heavy is it; how well maintained? But with light air predicted we did not worry.
On the last passage of the cruise, the wind was still from the port side, but a beat, As we tried to head west we had a lot of north in our course, headed for a Connecticut landfall.  Much more active water with tugs and barges, cruisers flying spinnakers and this huge beauty, Isabella, which overtook us motoring west.

As we sailed, the wind shifted, gradually more to the south, permitting us to sail more to the west, toward a landfall much closer to home -- Greenwich rather than Stamford. But then the wind died so we motored most of the rest of the way.
It being a Wednesday afternoon I was on the lookout for an Old Salts boat and we closed Deuce of Hearts off Hart Island. Mark took our picture.

They were sailing so we cut the noisemaker and sailed the last three miles to our mooring under main only.
Dinner at the Club was followed by our last night aboard. Thursday was for packing, cleaning and driving to our apartment.
There is still a month of sailing left in 2019, but the cruise has ended. Those who appreciate such things, look for the traditional synopsis of the cruise at this site soon.

September 5-7 -- Block Island

Yes I had said we were not coming here this year (because we had scored Portuguese
Bread in Fall River). We should not have come here. Bad judgement on my part that needlessly put us, the kitties and the boat in danger. Block Island is out at sea where the winds are stronger. It is about ten mile south of the mainland and hence closer to the eye of Dorian. And it has less land around it to protect it from the wind than Newport or Stonington. But the Great Salt Pond, while large, is completely protected from the great ocean waves that hurl themselves at the island from the outside, except through a narrow cut. So the problem was wind, not waves. I had not been thinking of all this, however.
The passage involved a very broad reach out of Narragansett Bay with wind strong enough to move the boat nicely, until it got light and we were making only four knots even when off course a bit to heat up the wind angle. There were significant seas that prevented auto pilot from maintaining course in such light air. After an hour and a half, having tried various sails and courses I gave up, kept the main up for stability and we motored the rest of the way.

The friendly Harbor Master greeted us and told us to go away. Or at least take an orange mooring, stronger than the chartreuse ones we usually prize, he said. He scared us with the information that if we dragged and went onto the rocks, "there are no rescue or salvage services here".

But our arrival day was pleasant with light air and a thoroughly uncrowded scene, both  in the harbor and on land. He said that there had been 2000 boats last weekend; I think it was about 100 during our stay. This was both because it was after the end of the "season" and with a view of Dorian. We filled a one gallon water bottle, and bought more Portuguese bread, snacks and hats.

My view has been that Rhode Island's quintessential cuisine (with the exception of Portuguese: kale soup, linguica, cerise, bread, etc.) is the Rhode Island Stuffed Baked Quahog. It is made of chopped clam, bread and some spices and veggie bits, moistened with clam broth, stuffed back into the clam's rather large shell and baked. My Navy days were in Newport and Quahogs were everywhere. I realized on this RI cruise that we had not had any Quahogs and I had been looking for them. I'm not saying that they are a delicacy -- more like poor people's food, really -- but I had not seen them on any menu as we made our way around the state. Here on Block Island we continued the search, calling several of the restaurants that have remained open after Labor Day. Finally, at Ballard's, that mammoth eatery and drinkery, which was almost vacant, the manager said: "Yes, but we call them Stuffies now." So the hunt ended with success. Quahogs, like curtains across the stages of theaters, have gone out of style; I wonder why?
The air was almost still on the walk back from town to the Boat Basin where we had docked our dink. The sunset shows he docks, usually teeming with boats, now empty. The second view is looking west at white boats that look pink from the sunset.

In the morning the wind was up to fifteen knots, forecast to peak for several hours in the middle in the night with gusts of 45, coincident with the heaviest rain. When the Harbor Master collected the $25 per night post-season reduced mooring fee after the storm he said the top gust was 51.
 I got ILENE ready to brave the hurricane. We had already put out a pair of our black dock lines, padded to prevent chafe, from our port cleat, to the eye of the mooring ball and back, to match the length of the mooring ball's pennant, which we had caught to starboard.
Lene helped me lower the Rocna anchor from its position with its blade hanging down about a foot below the deck at the bow of the boat (where its blade could catch on and chafe through the mooring lines) and then raise it up over the bow pulpit rails and on deck where it was placed on a pad to prevent scratching and secured very well with lines so it couldn't slide or be blown off.

All sails were wrapped with spare lines as well as possible to prevent the wind from stripping them and shredding them. The connection piece from the rear of the dodger to the forward edge of the bimini was put in place so those canvas pieces could re enforce each other. The dink was hauled up on its davits and secured as tightly as possible to the stern of the boat with its plug out to let rain water out. All lines were coiled and the coils tied to the boat.

The boom was tied to both sides to prevent swinging and the wheel likewise. All the loose stuff which sits above deck (shoes) was taken below.
And then a day and night aboard with the wind howling outside.








These two got closer to each other than ever before, though she still hisses him occasionally.

The rain was periodic and when we got a leak from one dorade (because I had forgotten to turn them so their big air scooping ventilation mouths faced aft) I went up and this situation was quickly turned around.
Reading and writing and petting cats, cooking and eating and Lene watching tennis.
I had prepared to dress in full foulies including sea boots and sit out in the cockpit, start the engine and go ever so slowly in forward gear to ease the tension on the mooring lines. But in the event this was not needed.
The rain was less than expected and the lines held. Thrashed by the wind the boat veered from side to side, and each time, when it presented its side to the wind, it got heeled over to the other side with  tremendous pressure put on the mooring lines. But everything held and I even got in two one hour naps. I took some pictures to try to show you the fury, but still pictures can't capture it. Sorry.
At daylight I went out to look around. We always tie short lengths of light line to the many halyards and other lines to keep them closer to the shrouds and away from the mast so they do not slap loudly against the mast all night. One of them had slid upward, loosening, allowing the slapping -- harmless but annoying.
All northern hemisphere hurricanes turn in a counter clockwise rotation. Those, like Dorian, that come up off the Atlantic coast present winds from the east first. These are the winds at the top of the big circle, from let's say 2 o'clock to 10 o'clock. And when the hurricane is  adjacent the winds will be from the north, blowing south across the clock face from 10 o'clock toward seven o'clock. That is what we experienced.
By morning the gusts were maxing at only 35 and decreased throughout the day, to five knots at 2 pm. But we stayed -- aboard  and in the Pond -- the third day to let the big seas outside the Island lay down a bit. The Harbor Master informed us that one dinghy was damaged and that one sail had been shredded by the wind. Neither near us.
So an experience of fear and anxiety but one to remember and learn from.
On the morning of departure, all the wrappings had to be undone. The anti-chafing gear around our mooring lines where they passed through the eye of mooring ball was stuck. I pulled the ball to directly under the port bow and asked Lene to hold onto my legs so I did not fall over the side with the knife used to cut the rags away. The tying had been done from the dink and I did not want to lower and raise it just to remove the chafing gear.
Here is the former Coast Guard station and the south side of the inlet on our way out to sea.

September 3 and 4 -- Newport

The passage here from the Third Beach Anchorage was easy and fun, the only frustration was a fifteen minute period with no wind, forcing us to motor. The wind was from the north so at our back heading out of the Sakonnet, a starboard reach heading west in the Atlantic and then a beat heading north up into Narragansett Bay into the harbor, though we only had to tack once on that leg. We passed well inside Cormorant Rock.

Our speed varied a lot with the different points of sail and different wind strengths.
We sailed past where we had previously walked: the "Cliff Walk" at the sea side, across the back yards of the "Cottages" of the rich and famous, including the grandest: The Breakers, built by the Vanderbilts.

One always sees beautiful boats sailing in these waters and the schooner Adirondack II, carrying a load of tourists, fit that bill.

We took a mooring from Neill of Newport Mooring Service for $45 per night. It is in the SE corner of the harbor, near the Ida Lewis Yacht Club and hence near the area where anchoring is permitted. But our mooring is quite strong and I remember my first sail here in about 1990 on old "Just Cause". She dragged and was rescued and put on a mooring by the Harbor Master. So I'm not objecting to paying for the mooring.
More beautiful boats in the harbor. Sophia's hull's exterior is completely of gleaming varnished mahogany and you have to admire her graceful curves. 

And there are a lot of these mega power ego-ships like Honey from Florida.

.

We had a great light dinner at Salvation Cafe, on Broadway, recommended to us by Lene's thespian friend, Mededith, who had worked there for several years. Scales & Shells is still going strong on Thames Street, but we don't have to eat there every time.
I spent most of our time here touring places we have never seen before. Actually, I had seen them but never appreciated them for the treasures they are. All are along Bellevue Avenue, the fashionable street in town of the 1870's and its extension, Trouro Street. 
William Varieka Fine Arts, is a few doors from the Tennis Hall of Fame and the auto museum.  I have been to Newport's Art Museum several times, but this place has art that is just as good or better with free admission. It is way too pricey for us, like  a Rubens for $325K,  but  can admire without desire. With two of the paintings I was able to be of use to the proprietor in telling him what was in the picture.

This one is a landscape looking south from the highland just west of Northeast Harbor on Mt. Desert Island, Maine. Mr Varieka took notes as I pointed out the names of the islands and bodies of water.

And in this picture notice the center, a church in the middle of the street. It is about eight by ten feet in size and named to the effect Troops Marching down Broadway. Here is a detail of the church:

Yes, it is Grace Church at the NE corner of Broadway and Tenth Street, where Broadway takes a slight turn, across from our home on the south side of Tenth Street. Small world. He also had paintings of four other cities we have sailed to. I got a kick out of this visit.
A few blocks north is the Redwood Library and Athenaeum, The first public library, built as a library in 1747 with a collection of 750 used books imported from London by Mr. Redwood. I browsed its shelves and this exhibit of Goelet Cups, designed by Tiffany and donated by Mr. Goelet to the winners of the New York Yacht Club's annual races. Many of the winners went on to win the America's Cup. This one, about two feet long,  was won by  the schooner Grayling in 1886.

They were selling discarded books and I got a leather bound original 1872 edition of J. Fennimore Cooper's novel The Sea Lions, for a buck!



I had visited the Truro Synagogue several times but had never run across this cemetery before.

Next was the Newport Historical Society, not to be confused with the museum it operates several blocks away which we visited last time. They had an exhibit about a local clockmaker who it turns out, though they did not mention it, was a contemporary of the much more accomplished John Harrison, the inventor of the first chronometer useful for determining longitude at sea. For more info see Dana Sobel's "Longitude".
Finally, a place that I had not overlooked before, because it was not opened until seven weeks ago: a lovely used book store with an excellent curation of books, Commonwealth Books, an offshoot of a company with the same name in Boston.
And speaking of large boats, on our way out we passed the Caribbean Princess, tended by her tenders, with the Newport Bridge in the background.

Newport still has a lot more to offer.

September 2 -- Aquidneck Island at Last, Third Beach Anchorage

We had anchored here only once before. It was last summer, on July 8, after a 55 mile day and before a 43 mile day. So we just rested up, ate and slept here then. How do I remember this? I don't; but the blog does not forget. This time we arrived at the end of a pleasant five mile passage, longer with tacking, down the Sakonnet River from the Fogland Anchorage. Nice wind and only two tacks; using the main and small jib; towing the dink.

But plans to dink in and swim at the public beach were thwarted by two facts. First on this Monday of Labor Day the air was cool and the clouds seemed to confirm the weather forecaster's prognosis of rain. In fact the rain was light and late but the coolness made for not very "beach like" weather. 

The second reason for not swimming was our smelling and then seeing diesel fuel in the bilge. About four hours of work went into getting it out and into our spare diesel fuel tank along with some water from the bilge. We accomplished this without polluting the environment which is immoral and illegal. Then I cleaned the bilge's oily surfaces with fantastic on paper towel pads. We hope that the leak came from overfilling one of the tanks, such that fuel was standing in the fill hose and leaked out. If that is not the cause, we have a bigger problem. Lene was a willing assistant in this dirty job and we kept the boat clean in the process. 

Lene was an excellent tennis player and every year around this time they broadcast the US Open to  distract her from sailing. She has an unlimited data package from AT&T so she can watch as much.the playing and commentary as she wants on her iPad, which is a lot.

Our night off Third Beach in 18 feet of water on 60 feet of snubbed chain with lots of room to the nearest boats, which were on moorings, was the least peaceful of this cruise -- the only night that was not peaceful. The ocean swell crept into the cove and rolled the boat back and forth. My guess is that it was only about five degrees to each side, for a total of ten, but clearly noticeable when one is trying to sleep.
Tomorrow: Newport, also on Aquidneck Island.

August 30 thriugh Sept. 1 -- Standish Boatyard And Fogland Anchorage, Tiverton, RI

We're back in Rhode Island. Tiverton is on the eastern bank of the Sakonnet River, toward its northern end. The Sakonnet runs from Mount Hope Bay to the Atlantic and forms the east side of Aquidneck Island, home of Newport.  We have been on the east side. Actually, it is analogous to New York City's East River -- running both ways with the tide and at the east side of the biggest town in the area.
It was only six miles from Battleship Cove to Standish Boatyard and only four more to Fogland. Both are spots I have never been to before. We had more wind on the first short  passage, to Standish, than on any other passage during this cruise, 20 knots with gusts to 25. Great wind for a reefed main and small jib. But -- it was right in our faces so we motored, with no sails, with spray coming over our bow during the 75 minute passage. We could have tacked back and forth outside of the channel through Mount Hope Bay because there is ample water, but we did not. And for the second, even shorter passage from Standish to Fogland the course was south and the wind was directly in front again but very light, two or three knots, not worth raising sails and tacking for -- until the last ten minutes of the 75 minute  trip when it came up to fifteen knots. We passed a lot of recently built packed housing. on the way to Standish. Maybe this is actually in Fall River rather than Tiverton; they don't post town signposts along at the shoreline.

This bridge, shot from ILENE after she was on her mooring, is only 65 feet high, at high tide, giving us 18 inches of room above our mast, but we crossed under at about three feet below high tide so no worry. Grabbing the mooring with our boat hook was a challenge with all the current pushing us around, but no problem for Lene to bring our bow to the mooring so i could grab it.. She is quite good at this stuff.

Standish Boatyard provides showers, heads, moorings and all for $25 per night. Its proprietor, Ken, is extremely friendly and helpful. He let us use his car, twice, for a grocery run one day and for a tour of the local highlights. He asked for nothing but we put some gas in the tank. In the morning we put ILENE on his dock and filled both of the fuel tanks and both of the water tanks. A discount on fuel for the holiday weekend!

And I finally found out why we were running out of water. Whenever we had the electric fresh water pump on, a lot of water rushed out through a loosely fitted charcoal filter housing for the water maker into the bilge. An easy fix. I should have done it long ago.
Lene told me: "This is my favorite place on this cruise" You mean Tiverton?, I asked. "No; the boat- yard: old, busy, competent, friendly and clean.  And I would add, very reasonably priced. And, by the way, I never tell any business that we use that I write a blog until after the services are provided. No abuses of the power of the press for personal advantage on ILENE!
Lots of deep water: this 84 foot Swan was closer to shore than ILENE.

We visited The Fort Barton and Highland Woods on a sunny afternoon.

A walk from the Boatyard and then a hike in the woodlands after a climb up the viewing tower. They call the area the Sin and Flesh Brook. A corruption of "Sinful Flesh", which is the name given  to the brook after a massacre there during The King Phillips War of 1675. Tiverton is also the site of an incident during our revolution. A group rowed across the river to British-occupied Newport and kidnapped the British commander.
We visited the historic "Four Corners" area which is now the site of about twenty artists shops, galleries and boutiques lining both sides of two roads that cross there.

I have been reporting periodically during this cruise on our progress in the domestication of Cruiser. Mine is the first lap he has deigned to sit on. His face shows that he is not really comfortable with this yet, but he's not running away. Progress!

But the highlight of our time here in Tiverton was dinner with Hadley and Sue, retired Harlemites who I have known longer than I have known Lene.

In the morning a couple came over by dink; Bart and Darcy. They said  they were interested in a Saga 43 and we invited them aboard. He has just gotten back from two years in the Caribbean on a J-32, during which she flew down to visit him for a few weeks once a quarter, Bart is the person who told me about the Fogland Anchorage from which this post is being posted. It is not listed in any cruising guide and is not safe if the winds are from the NW. But it is a large area with twelve feet of water behind an Island, very roomy and very sheltered in the light southwesterlies forecast for our third night in Tiverton. So from old sailing friends to new ones.