If I was haunted by my mother in the Chesapeake, it was my father whose memory whispered in my ear for this part of our journey. When I was in High School my sister Lucy sailed our boat (The Grapefruit) from Sag Harbor to Georgia. I was part of the crew for the first month. As it happened my sister had an interview for medial school (Johns Hopkins), so my Dad came down to take the boat across the Delaware and through the C&D (Chesapeake and Delaware) Canal. I was his crew. I've always said this is where I learned to respect Washington, because my trip across the Delaware was horrendous. We were going to weather with a favorable current. This meant that we sailed into a cruel chop that pounded the boat and us. When I went below to get lunch I was so seasick that I couldn't look at food, and made my father a sandwich while starting assiduously at the horizon. When we reached the Canal and found relief from the wind and waves, my father found another reason for my mal de mar. During the relentless pounding we had taken on some water, and the batteries were wet. The sea water and battery acid reacted to release chlorine gas, poisonous. I steered the boat as my father dumped the batteries over the side. When we finally reached the marina it was dark, and I stood on the bow to toss the line. I missed. It fell in the water three feet short of the helpful man on the dock. My father lost it, after his stressful day and yelled at me. I lost it, after my stressful day and ran down below, head first into the quarter berth. As a sailor, my reaction was far worse than my fathers. I have no idea how he got the boat secured, but he did. Then he came down below and apologized to me for yelling, that he knew it wasn't my intention to mis-throw the bow line. I can't remember if I ever apologized for abandoning the bow and risking the boat.

With this history I was a bit apprehensive to take my family through the canal and down the river. Of course it would be different. First, as much as I loved the Grapefruit, Flight is in a different league of boats. She is fast and has all the electronic tool my father would have loved, but never got to play with. We have an inboard engine, instead of an outboard (in fact our outboard for the dinghy is the same horsepower as the Grapefruit's engine). Instead of a tide table bought at the bait store's counter, we have programs that calculate the currents throughout our route. We have a chart plotter, that shows us exactly where we are in relation to the known shoals, while the Grapefruit had charts that where huge, and with little detail. We had weather reports from NOAA, with graphics to explain the upcoming forecast, while Dad had the VHF weather report. Dave and I were able to play with different scenarios for an hour, before determining that we would take the outgoing current through the C&D (a 6:00 am start), then anchor until 3:30 am the next day, when we would take the outgoing current down the Delaware. As long as we maintained 5 knots we would take advantage of some very advantageous currents, and if we went faster all the better. My poor father and I had no way to maintain 5 knots, in fact we didn't really know how fast we went over ground.

We anchored Flight the night before on the Bohemia River, but a squall system came through and it was a sleepless night. We had fair holding, but little protection from the winds, top that with the anxiety I felt about returning to these waters and I semi-slept at best. The next morning we sailed to the entrance with a 1 to 2 knot push. We reached the Canal, furled the sail and entered. The canal is wider than the part of the ICW we transited, and at 7:00 am it was empty. We passed the marina where I abandoned the bow, and I sent a belated apology to my father's spirit. We pulled out the sail, for the wind was behind us, and enjoyed an easy trip. Kara woke just before we set the hook around 9:30 am, 20 miles in just over three hours. The anchorage looked exposed, but was protected from the expected winds and had excellent holding. We spent the day on the hook, Dave and I resting up, Kara doing schoolwork and playing. Looking South we could see a nuclear power plant, and North a factory of some sort. With this backdrop at sunset Kara called me up on deck. The pink haze and purple clouds were stunning, and I was glad to spend time enjoying them with her.

3:30 am came very quickly. Anticipation kept me up, and a restless Kara kept Dave awake. As we raised the anchor a sailboat exited the C&D canal, so we watched their lights speeding downriver. By 4:00 am we were on our route and had the sails out. We were going 7 to 8 knots, and were proud of ourselves for finding the helpful current. At sunrise we put up the chute, but the added speed of the current meant that we moved our apparent wind forward more quickly and the big sail couldn't handle it. We had slowed down to 6 knots. After dropping the chute and unfurling the genoa we were still at 6. A check of the current, and it should have been over a knot push. The sailboat ahead was stretching away from us, straight down the middle of the shipping channel. That was when we thought of back eddies, we were out of the current. a quick correction to the shipping channels and our speed climbed. 8 knots, sweet. 9 knots this is great, but I don't want to be greedy, this is enough. 10 knots! We were sailing over 10 knots and sustaining it (well for about 20 minutes). We maxed at 10.4, of course when I checked the currents I saw that we were getting a 3.2 knot push down river.

Dave and I have a problem with quick starts. The GPS gives us an ETA that we can never reach. For our 54 mile trip we saw ETA's at 10:00 am when we were going super-fast. We knew it was unreal, but it is hard to see that time creep later and later. We were able to carry the current down the river to Delaware Bay, and then we faced the adverse current. All the water we rode out on the ebb, was rushing back in the flood. We were in more open water, so we saw currents in the 1 to 1 and half range, not the threes up river. We kept our speeds up with the spinnaker, until finally the wind died. Its a good thing the euphoria of 10 knots lasts, because rounding Cape May was slow going. Kara and I sat on the bow admiring the lighthouse and looking for dolphins.

Now we sit at a marina in Cape May. Yes, another marina, but there is a nasty weather system coming through with 40 to 45 knot winds. After Washington DC and searching for a dock as we were dragging, Dave and I are more cautious. Our marina is away from the city, but hope to explore it tomorrow by dinghy and foot.

We are one state away from our new home. Next week we should sail up the East River. I invite all my New York friends to watch us take Flight home.