On Sandy Hook…

I (James) have said to quite a few people in my life that the reason I truly love to live this way, this sailing around the world in a fifty year old boat way, is, it is everything. It is the quintessential moment of beauty in a following sea at sunset and in the same breath it is the feeling of absolute powerlessness when confronted with a lighting storm at sea. We were clipping along perfectly fine, raising Atlantic City for most of the morning doing between 5.5  and 6.1 knots on a broad reach in slicing seas that felt like long, slow radar reflections coming off the shore that was only 2.5 to 3 nautical miles to our port-side beam. After sailing in the Pacific Northwest, where the weather only comes from the Pacific Ocean so you never, I mean fucking never, sail on a lee shore, this took some getting used to. The sun was hot, the clothes were few, and the sailing was perfect… Then the wind died and we started the fucking diesel. We had sailed so well up to that point.  Right outside the Cape May Inlet, we put up the sails.  So when you see “fucking diesel,” as you did above, please know that we appreciate and hate/adore that fucking engine.  But starting it up only 6 hours into the trip…not best case. We didn’t strike the main because the motorsailing was smoother.  The main gave us a little heel, which makes for a longer waterline and faster top speed.  It also gives us a bit of lift over the waves, making the action a comfortable glide rather than a bounce or jiggle.  That only lasted about 45 minutes, though, before the wind came up again and we shut down the engine. Several hours[…]

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