Out... and back again (part 3)

Out... and back again (Part 1)
Out... and back again (Part 2)


It is 11:00 pm, Friday, April 27, 2018. The sun set hours ago. Still, it was not dark. Just like the night before, a thin layer of high altitude clouds covered the sky, but the moon and a few bright stars could shine through. The horizon is obscured by a thin layer of fog.  To the west, the fog had an eerie golden glow from the Virginia Beach light pollution 90 miles away.


There were still some big rollers coming from behind us. They lift the back of the boat and gently set the boat back down as they pass underneath her. Small wavelets covered these rollers. The moon was glistening off the top of the wavelets, reminding me of a science fantasy movie. Maybe it was the seasickness blurring my vision, but it looked like we were being followed by a group of fairies.

I was headed back to Hampton to have my shoulder looked at. Two years ago, I had an impact injury to the Rotator Cuff. There was no damage, just a lot of swelling. After 18 months of re-hab, the shoulder was 90%. I reasoned to myself that this would be similar. In which case, I could depart once again in 4-6 weeks; continuing the stretching and strengthening exercises onboard. After all, the therapist went to the trouble to teach me how to do all this using what was available to me on the boat. Instead of 2lb weights... use a large 16oz can of soup, etc.

About nine months ago, I set out onto the ocean and decided to turn around, I was bombarded with questions on the SAT phone. So this time, I sent a quick message to facebook to alleviate this. Well, "Trip is over due to injury", was too brief. I'm going to blame the seasickness... Looking down at that screen on the small SAT phone device to write a text message was torture!

The winds picked up a for a short while around midnight.  It was good sailing... a stiff breeze to move the boat quickly through the water. The waves were going with me, not against me.  So we were surfing!

The fun didn't last too long... just over an hour. Then, the wind suddenly stopped. I was surrounded by fog. Visibility was just under one mile. I turned the deck lights on. This was a good time to get a couple hours of sleep. The deck lights will glow brightly in the fog; making the boat visible from a long range.

I woke again at 5am. The fog was going away. After the long period of calm, the water was relatively flat, only a little ripple appeared on the water. It won't be long before we can get sailing again.

After having breakfast, I noticed the flashing green light on the SAT phone. I had a message. Pat, a good friend sent me a message telling me to provide more details, a lot of people were concerned. So, I sent another message to facebook. This time providing a little more detail and trying to be clear that I was okay.

About 8am, the winds picked up to 8 knots. Going with the small waves, it was enough for Distant Horizon to sail steadily at about 4 knots.

For the first time in the trip, a pod of dolphins came to visit the boat. No pictures. I just reveled in watching them play with the bow wake. They didn't stay long before leaving, except for one. This last remaining dolphin seemed to be having a good time and wasn't ready to go back to ... whatever they were doing before my arrival.

The winds died down again around 10am. I went below to check on the fuel level. To keep moving, I would have to  motorsail some more. I had already done a lot more than I wanted on this trip. I was astonished that I still had 3/4 of a tank. So, I didn't hesitate to start the engine once again.

The winds finally picked up a little around 2pm. The water was relatively flat from the long calm. I kept motor sailing for the increased speed. A cold front was approaching, and I had a chance of beating it to the entrance of the Chesapeake.

Atlantic Sunset

Just before sunset, the winds increased enough for me to turn the engine off and continue sailing over 5 knots.

It would be a race from this point forward. A cold front would bring fast, northwest winds. Winds that I could not go against when entering the Chesapeake. Once I make the turn, get on the north side of the channel, and pass Cape Henry, there will be a good enough angle to the wind to sail against the cold front.

The sky was clear. There were only small waves, and they were traveling in the same direction as I was. I would do whatever it takes to stay above 5 knots. If I can do this, I should be beat the front by an hour and be safely past the Bay Tunnel Bridge before it arrives.