We are determined to make it to Boston. Who could have predicted that the weather would conspire against us two years in a row? But we are plugging along.

Some things went well, others not so well.

Getting the boat ready to leave, Peter discovered that our broken bow roller wasn't so easy to fix. In order to access it, somebody had to crawl into the anchor locker to help bolt on the backing plate and bow roller. That somebody had to weight less than 70 pounds but have long arms to reach into the very tip of the boat, which is only a handswidth. Fortunately, the Ochs family comes from a long line of knuckle-draggers, so we were able to find one of them to fit into the dark and airless compartment. The picture here is 13-year old nephew Geoffrey crawling back out of the anchor locker after the roller plate was finally bolted down. Not only did he succeed in s-t-r-e-t-c-h-i-n-g just far enough to reach the furthermost bolt so that Peter could ratchet it down, but he never complained at all through the entire hour plus job. The weather wasn't very good, it was hot and windy and the Hudson was very choppy. Luckily Geoffrey has not inherited his mother's vulnerability to motion sickness, or we would have been in real trouble. He came out hot, sweaty, with a rash from the fiberglass, and he could still smile! This is the link to the rest of the pictures of his ordeal.
http://www.fototime.com/inv/AB34C139BC2DADE

Monday we lugged all our "stuff" to the boat but by the time we were settled it was after 1 in the afternoon and with an unfavorable tide we decided to leave bright and early Tuesday morning. We hit everything right on Tuesday, although we had to wait for an hour for the railroad bridge blocking us from the Harlem River to open. We made it all the way to Point Judith, RI before dark. Last year it took us two days to get to Point Judith, so waiting until Tuesday to leave did not make any difference this time.

I have written so many times that there's no replacement for luck. Well, when luck runs out, it's nice to have experience and Peter to pull us out of trouble.

Point Judith is a Harbor of Refuge, and it's a good place to be when the weather turns against you. As we made our way up Long Island Sound we listened to the marine radio weather reports. They were predicting nasty thunderstorms for Tuesday night, and we ran the boat a bit harder just to be sure that we were in Point Judith and settled before sunset. It helps that the sun didn't set until 8:15. There was plenty of room in the anchorage with only three other boats, a 50-foot or so sailboat well in front of us, and two small powerboats, so we could all anchor well away from each other. It was after nine o'clock before we were finished with dinner, and we were both tired from the long day. The storms came just as I was getting ready to go to bed at 10 o'clock; I called Peter up because the wind was TERRIBLE and both of us needed to keep watch and be ready.

It seems that the worst storms always hit at night when it's already difficult to see anything. With driving rain, lightning and thunder, and high winds spinning us around it's easy to become disoriented. I looked out and saw the sailboat dragging past us, but my first reaction was "how can we be moving into the wind?" Suddenly it became clear what we were seeing, and we realized that we were now dragging back into him. And the next realization was that the sailboat was on the rocks and we were about a heartbeat away from the same fate! Without thinking, Peter started the engines and yelled at me to drive us forward as he brought up the anchor. I was oriented by the waves crashing against the rocks behind us as Peter ran below to get a knife to cut free the bridle he had rigged to keep the anchor line centered between the two hulls. The anchor would have been the next thing he cut free if he had had any difficulty bringing it up. With the anchor up we crawled away from the rocks and back into the middle of the anchorage. Peter is much better at judging distances, and he is very familiar with Point Judith Harbor, so he guided me as I drove the boat through the wind and rain.

We motored around for about an hour, watched several monster bolts of lightning hit land, one of which knocked out the town's power, then the wind and rain stopped and we re-anchored far away from the rocks of the breakwater.

We then watched a towing company help get the sailboat off the rocks. It took quite some time, but the boat made it into the inner harbor under its own power. I hope it wasn't too badly damaged.

I was now REALLY, REALLY tired. No rest for the wicked, though, because another storm rolled in, and as the winds started to build Peter decided to up anchor and drive around until the storm had passed. Although not as violent as the first storm, there was a lot more rain, it was much colder, and it seemed to last longer.

We finally anchored and got to bed at 2 am with no further excitement.

I can analyze a situation to death, but it helps me learn so that the next time we encounter a similar situation I might do things better. Here my concern was with my anchoring technique. I was concerned that we had dragged because I hadn't backed down well on the anchor. Peter said that he thinks that the holding in the outer harbor behind the breakwater is a bit thin over a hard rock bottom. Secondly, although we didn't see this happen, it is possible that the sailboat dislodged our anchor as it dragged past us. There is always the third possibility, which I think is at least as likely: Murphy decided to pitch one straight at us.

Wednesday morning's marine forecast painted a grim picture for getting up to Boston if we dilly-dallied, and so we upped anchor early and headed for the Cape Cod Canal. The wind was light when we left, but by the time we entered the Cape Cod Canal the wind was piping up and the Canal was surprisingly lumpy and uncomfortable even though we had the current in the "right" direction. Peter, who figures he's been through the canal 500 times, said he'd never seen it so rough as this trip through. A stop in Sandwich to refuel and top up our water and we continued on to Plymouth Harbor, which offers good all-round protection from the forecast nasty weather, should it arrive. Not that it?? s easy to find an anchoring spot in the harbor. Turn outside of the long and winding channel and the depth suddenly shallows down to nothing. It is very important to know the state of the tide here since the tide range is 9-1/2 to 10 feet. Anchor in 10 or 12 feet of water at high tide and we will be high and dry at low tide. It has been a long time since we have had to worry about these tide ranges.

The inner harbor is chock full of moorings with absolutely no room to anchor. Brewer's Boat Yard and Marina and the yacht club are also in the inner harbor, but we do not like to be tied to a dock during a bad storm, so we motored around looking for anough deep water to allow us swinging room.

We finally found a good spot to anchor in Duxbury Bay behind Plymouth Beach, a long way from Plymouth's town harbor, but probably better given the expected SE winds.

Now we wait for the storm. Is it going to be a fizzled letdown? If so, good, that would be a relief.