Leaving Cape May, there was a breeze of 5-10 knots (9-18 km/h) from the south and it stayed with us for most of the passage, occasionally dropping to zero and other times climbing to 13-15 knots (24-28 km/h). We set the engine to 2000 rpm and motorsailed up the coast. We stayed about 10 miles (18 km) offshore to try and get out of some of the shipping traffic. The strategy worked as we saw several barges between us and the coast.
Ten Miles (18 km) Offshore from the New Jersey Coast
Sport Fisherman in the Distance
In the evening, we were greeted by a beautiful sunset, the first in the open Atlantic in almost ten years. While motoring for prolonged periods is not the most comfortable way to cover sea miles, we got into a routine of two-hour watches. As the night fell, fog rolled in and frequently both of us were in the cockpit to track targets on RADAR and AIS. Visibility in fog at night is really hard to judge but we could see around Rosalind for some short distance, maybe 100 yards (100 meters).
Sunset in the Atlantic
As we approached Sandy Hook and New York City, we started picking up large ships in the shipping lanes. We tracked them and on one occasion communicated with the captain. While we were not transmitting AIS at the time, we did have a RADAR reflector up the mast and we got confirmation that we showed up on RADAR 4.5 miles (8.3 km) away. We could hear the ship's powerful fog horn almost 5 miles (9 km) away but we could not see it, aside from on our instruments. So, it was good to know that we were visible to him.
Light Fog, 10 Miles (18 km) off the New Jersey Coast
Large Ship in the Distance
RADAR (with guard zone in red) and Chartplotter (with AIS) Showing Shipping Traffic at Night, 15 miles (28 km) Offshore of New York City
Our plan was to stay out of the way of the big ships and, to avoid any potential issues, contact them on VHF radio. The communication was well received every time and we found the captains responsive to our RADAR queries.
Shortly after sunset we also started our own fog horn. Our VHF radio has this feature, which proved invaluable, and every two minutes it automatically sounds the fog horn through a hailer which we have mounted on the mizzen mast. This is a great feature as we would not want to have to manually sound a bell every two minutes for hours on end! The bad news is that it’s really hard to sleep with a horn blasting every two minutes...
Fog Getting Thicker, 10 miles (18 km) off Long Island
The next morning we turned to the east, sailing parallel to Long Island, New York. The morning sun burned off the night’s fog and we had a pleasant morning motorsailing along Long Island. By early afternoon fog started rolling in. It was patchy but we had more fog than not. As the temperature dropped, visibility reduced dramatically and through the night we were in pea soup thick fog. It was hard to judge where there was water and where there was not, as everything turned white. There was enough light from our running lights to illuminate the surroundings. It was a strange experience. The great news about the second evening was that we had no traffic around us with the exception of a “ghost ship”. Early in the evening, between some fog patches, we spotted a ship with four or five very bright lights. We estimated it to be several miles away but it was not transmitting an AIS signal and was not showing up on RADAR. After extensive observations we concluded that it must have been a wooden fishing boat. When looking at the charts and chartplotters, we had a question about an exclusion zone and we contacted the Coast Guard for some clarification, but otherwise the evening was uneventful.
The next morning, however, was another story. Rounding Montauk Point on Long Island and getting into Block Island Sound, we got into heavy traffic. The fog was at its thickest with visibility probably down to 100 feet (30 meters). We could see nothing. Our eyes were glued to the RADAR, AIS, and chartplotter. The distance to get to the Great Salt Pond Channel was short, less than six miles (11 km), but the traffic was crazy. We had to make evasive maneuvers twice before we got to the channel and also gave way to a fast-moving catamaran that had no RADAR. We contacted the catamaran on the VHF as we were on a collision course and told them we could see them on AIS and RADAR. They were doing 8 knots (15 km/h) with zero visibility! Their comment was, “We don’t have RADAR but we will sort it all out.” We selected to give them plenty of room and let them pass us. There were almost a dozen boats going in and coming out of the channel, including a tug pulling a barge (i.e., limited maneuverability). After an hour of this, we finally sighted the red entrance marker. The fog was only marginally better and we were no more that 150 ft (45 m) from the entrance when we heard on the VHF, “Watch it sailboat!” Out of the fog, at full speed, comes a 45 foot (14 meter) sport fisherman. I had to put Rosalind in reverse to avoid the collision and then hold on to avoid being tossed by the wake. As a fellow boater said many years ago, “Some people have more money than sense.”
View from Cockpit, Leaving Cape May, New Jersey - Nice!
View from Cockpit, Approach to Block Island Sound
Visibility Less Than 50 ft (15m)!
Visibility Less Than 50 ft (15m)!
We got in the channel and when we entered the Great Salt Pond the fog started lifting. At 10:00 am we dropped anchor in 35 feet (11 meters) of emerald green water and payed out 185 ft (56 m) of chain. We set up the anchor chain snubber and concluded our first 200+ mile (400+ kilometer) passage. It had taken us exactly two days. We were on Block Island!
