We transited the bridge out of Lagoon Pond at 0900 and headed south-west down Vineyard Sound. We were almost close hauled, and the stiff breeze blowing against a two knot tide made for some very lively sailing. Once clear of Cuttyhunk, the southernmost island in the chain dividing the Sound from Buzzard's Bay, the wind and tide eased up a little, providing ideal sailing conditions for the remaining 30 miles to Block Island. We passed through a narrow cut on the west side of the island to Great Salt Pond, an almost completely enclosed lagoon roughly a mile across in either direction.

Block Island is a very popular destination for yachts, being within a day's sail of Long Island, Newport and Buzzard's Bay, but now it was late in the season and both the anchorage and the island ashore were relatively deserted. Firefly was one of the few other boats at anchor, and Leo and Poupette invited us over for supper. We spent a sunny, blustery day cycling round the southern half of the island, and immediately felt at home there. It could have been the English countryside, with narrow lanes, small patches of woodland and small fields bordered by dry-stone walls. There were even cows grazing - another first sighting for us in America! We rode out first to the spit by the harbour entrance, then round the west coast road and down a narrow track to the beach where we had a picnic lunch. It was then a long, slow climb up to Mohegan Bluffs, where there is a steep timber staircase with 250 steps down to the foot of the cliffs, 50m below. A bit further on we stopped off at the South-East Lighthouse, a large Victorian brick building which was recently slid bodily about 100m back from the crumbling cliff edge. We then enjoyed a downhill ride all the way to Old Harbour, the ferry port and only town. We stopped off for tea and a bun, before calling in at the supermarket to buy provisions. Finally we rode some way beside Crescent Beach, which is open to the full force of the Atlantic rollers, before returning to our dinghy.

We spent three days at Block Island whilst a spell of strong south-westerlies passed over, and set off as soon as there was a break in the weather. We headed west over an easy 2m swell towards Long Island, continuing sailing down its coastline about three miles offshore for the next hundred miles. Early on, the Coastguard must have spotted our AIS transmission for they called us up on the vhf asking for our destination and gross registered tonnage. There were no further questions on hearing our GRT was only 12! We saw very few other vessels along the way: just a few fishing boats near the harbour inlets, a tug-boat with barge and a cluster of ships at anchor. It rained for a while and the wind freshened during the night, obliging us to take in two reefs at 0300. We crossed the Ambrose Channel at dawn, passing astern of a cruise ship bound for New York, rounded Sandy Hook Point and transited Raritan Bay to Atlantic Highlands, where we anchored behind the breakwater in the lee of the high ground at 0830. Atlantic Highlands, at around 75m above sea level, is the highest point of land on the east coast of America south of Maine, which just goes to show how low the rest of the coastline is. We sat out the rest of the day and night to allow another belt of rain and strong south-westerly winds pass over.

Next day was a Saturday, and we headed out to sea accompanied by dozens of angling boats and passed many more anglers lining the beach at Sandy Hook Point. We had to keep the motor running for most of the day to help the sails maintain our required speed as we headed down the coast of the New Jersey. At one point a flock of monarch butterflies overtook us on their long migration south to Mexico - they looked so feeble it's a wonder how they manage it. A tiny bird then landed on our steering wheel and desperately clung on for about five minutes as the autopilot swung it from side to side. The wind picked up at tea-time to 10 to 14 knots so we were able to cut the engine and enjoy a peaceful beam reach through the night. The neon lights of Atlantic City lit up the skyline to the west and later the clouds cleared to reveal a bright moon ahead. We had timed our arrival at the mouth of the Delaware for a couple of hours before sunrise to catch the first of the new flood tide. Unfortunately we couldn't quite lay the course up the estuary, so we had to start the engine again to point a bit higher and keep up enough speed to cover the 60 mile passage in one tide. We entered the Chesapeake & Delaware Canal at 1330, and two hours later reached the tight little anchorage in Engineer's Cove, the harbour for Chesapeake City, at the far end of the 14 mile long canal.

Chesapeake City sounds as if it ought to be a large urban community, which is probably what the original developers of the Canal intended, along with Delaware City at the other end. However it never grew beyond the small town which serviced the first pair of four locks that were originally part of the system when the canal was first opened in 1829. The locks were removed when the canal was converted to sea level operation in 1927, but the two steam beam engines which pumped water into the locks have been preserved, the engine house now open as a museum. Next day was the 1st of October, and the early morning was chilly with a heavy dew and mist over the anchorage. We spent a couple of hours visiting the museum and walking round the pretty little town centre before taking the first of the tide down the Elk River and out into the Chesapeake Bay.