The Thrilla in Manila – Redux

Position: 40°25’06″N 74°01’48″W

Noise

No one ever told me that cruising would be quite so noisy. I don’t mean the sound of the wind through the rigging. That’s well documented. Any number of authors from C.S Forster to Fredrick Marryat tell tales of howling gales tearing through the sheets on tall ships, terrifying crews and bringing heathens to their knees as they beg forgiveness for their lack of faith.

Even this week as we deftly avoided a momentary Category 1 hurricane in New Jersey (of all places), sailors in the thick of it couldn’t believe how loud it was. Not that. It’s the smack and thump of waves on the hull. The force is surprising rough. Vibrations shudder through Aleta’s hull almost indignantly. She’s used to it. She shrugs them off. It’s us passengers that are adjusting. (Wait – what about the hurricane? – ed.)

Long story not terribly short: we departed City Island on Friday confident that our water pump would pump long enough for us to transit Hell Gate. The raging full moon current of five and a half knots was an unjustified concern. Meanwhile, Willa, the errant Mexican hurricane, had made her way all the way to New England and was setting up as a nor’easter.

NOR’EASTER

We had already booked a mooring at the Atlantic Highlands Yacht Club in Sandy Hook, New Jersey. NOAA’s forecasts changed hourly, but it was clear that the worst of the weather would come directly out of the east, about the only exposed point in the marina. Ominously, a local boat owner asked us if we felt safer in the harbor as opposed to “out there somewhere.” It felt like a cryptic warning. A version of the yokel’s, “Arr, down’t ye be going in them thar woods, young ‘un!”

Predictions were bad enough that the launch service preemptively shut down for Saturday. I voted to batten the hatches and head to a hotel for the night. Carol held out for staying aboard until about 16:30 when, based on the latest forecast, she realized how cruddy things would get. Decision made, in double time we did everything we could to reduce windage, taking in all cockpit canvas, quadruple wrapping the furling jib and staysail, as well as securing the wind generator and adding extra lines to the mooring.

When we returned to Aleta Sunday morning we saw two boats with blown out sails and one, the Galaxie from Hamburg, hard aground on the shore. Carol and Tai spoke with a Canadian couple that rode out the storm at anchor. Expecting 45 knots of wind, they saw a steady 58 with gusts up to 75. The noise “was horrendous.” Waves churned over the breakwater and their anchor dragged as they battled for control of their sailboat most of the night. Crashing into another boat had seriously damaged their davits and they were stuck for the next few days figuring out insurance. While all this was going on we were tucked up in bed listening to rain on the roof.

KNOCKOUTS

Apparently unscathed, Aleta turned south on Monday and headed for the Chesapeake before the next system came through. We had a rambunctious sail down the coast. Swells out of the southeast met the wind-driven waves out of the west for a solid one-two punch. Winds were a stiff 20-25 knots and Aleta was Ali to the seas’ Frazier. Haymakers on the hull kept even the most tired of the crew from sleeping soundly, if at all.

At the mouth of the Delaware the winds increased to 30 knots. Under a double reefed main and shortened jib Aleta heeled over to 45 degrees and made nine knots through the water. Hauling in the jib a bit further steadied her up. And just like Ali in Manila – Aleta triumphed.

Once we crossed the knee of Cape Henlopen the waves settled out and with a steady 15-20 knot breeze we cruised at 7+ for most of the day. Now in Norfolk, we await additional crew and some fitting out before heading to the Caribbean.