Atlantic City, NJ to Chesapeake City, MD

Leaving Atlantic City ~ Lonely lighthouse in foreground.

Like most sailing trips, any itinerary put together at the start of the day is subject to change depending on the weather, sea state, tides, wind, and whim.  Fluid is the name of the game.  Take yesterday morning, for instance.  We woke up to skies swept clear by the high pressure system that moved through overnight.  A calm morning with a breeze on the beam and easterly swells that promised a sweet ride down the coast to Cape May, our next planned stop.  We had passed Cape May in the night on the way up the coast two summers ago and I was determined to stop in for a visit.  Once we got underway, though, we found ourselves enjoying the day so much that we simply continued on beyond the cape and into Delaware Bay.  Why not?  The water was flat, the wind was dying, and the slack tide was about to start flooding, aiding our passage to the Chesapeake.  Sometimes it’s worth foregoing a stop to take advantage of the conditions.  For the second time, I had posted on Facebook in the morning that we were going someplace we ended up bypassing.  Did I say fluid? 

Wildwood, NJ

Delaware Bay traffic

The Red Eye

 Delaware Bay is not my favorite body of water.  The last time we traveled it, we had a stiff breeze on the nose, a wicked steep chop, and an endless parade of floating dead fish.  Fortunately, we experienced none of that this time and had an easy passage to the 14-mile long Chesapeake and Delaware (C&D) Canal.  Narrow (400’ wide), straight as a pin, and lined by orange streetlights, the Delaware Canal is a liquid highway delivering boaters to and from the bay – the Chesapeake Bay, that is.  I was not keen on the idea of a night passage, as we had initially agreed that we’d anchor behind Reedy Island, but Ken convinced me that we should press on to Chesapeake City, which we would reach before midnight.  With a full moon overhead and barely a whisper of wind, the flooding tide swept us along at 7-9 kts.   Jeanette slept, I happily tucked in down below, and Ken manned the helm and steered clear of the working traffic transiting the canal.  Being on the water at night is an altogether different boating experience.  Full moon aside, visibility just isn’t that great, and one relies heavily on radar and instruments to maintain safe passage.  Nearly 40% of the commercial shipping traffic between Philadelphia and Baltimore comes through the canal, and although I wouldn’t say it was especially busy we did pass, and were passed by, quite a few ships, barges, and tugs.  It’s more than a little intimidating to see one barreling down knowing there’s likely to be a massive wake behind it.  We saw one small sloop nearly swamped in a tug’s wake as it pitched and rolled from side to side.

Full moon rising over DE Bay.

With a gorgeous sunset to port.

1 of the D&C bridges lit up.

We did indeed reach Chesapeake City before midnight; just before 11, actually.  We shoe-horned ourselves into one of the tiniest, tightest anchorage basins I’ve ever seen, dropped the anchor with only 20’ of scope, and prayed we’d stay put.  If there is any current here, it is barely discernible and we spent a quiet night.  This morning dawned foggy and cold (48 degrees).  A bald eagle swooped out of the mist to snatch a fish off our stern.  As it flew away to feast on its catch, blueberry pancakes sizzled on the galley stove.  It’s going to be a good day.