I tell my kids I am proud of the often. They try hard at school and sports and make good choices in life (mostly). But today, I am busting with pride.
We left Coecles Harbor in Shelter Island at about 10:30 after a quick run to shore and some time to get the boat ready to move. I'd spent the evening going back and forth on a game plan to get through Plum Gut- a small outlet/inlet where the Sound empties into the sea.
As it turns out, the Gut was the least of our worries, we plowed through the chop and enjoyed the 2-4 knots of push as we went. Even the Orient Point ferries gave us no issue. Soon after we were sailing at 6knts and getting another knot of current added- we were screaming.
Then we came up on a motor boat that was going very slow, so slow we thought it was in distress. The operator paid us no attention and the VHF was quiet. Weird.
Not 2 minutes later we were in the soup. Fog. The forecast called for patchy fog and I raised our radar reflector back at Sheltor Island. I really didn't think I'd have to use it.
The fog was thick, our visibility went from 10 miles to less than 30 feet. I realized why that power boat was putting along. This was getting dangerous.
I sent Reagan for the air horn and put her up on the bow. The wind had died, so I started up the engine and would be useless for hearing anything. I set Mel to watch our port side and Ian our starboard.
The fog stayed thick. I instructed Reagan to give blasts on the horn to let other boaters know where we are. We all listened for engine noises and horn answers.
At this point I should mention, I am navigating by iPhone. Its GPS combined with a nautical graphing app is really good. For $4.99, was it to be trusted with my familie life?
Soon, Reagan was saying she could hear a horn, so she'd signal back. Soon, I recognized this horn as Saybrook light. I told Reagan she could stop answering the automated fog horn.
The night before, perhaps inspired by the weather forecast, I told the kids a story about our heroes (the same heels from the stories my dad told me) getting caught in the fog and Captain Blackbeard attacking them with cannonballs. Reagan and Ian would tell me later that the story went through their heads while we were in the thick of it.
So there we were, unable to see our course and relying on a phone to keep us off the rocks. The fog began to get louder and remained in front of us, giving me hope we were on course. Rocks and sand shoals awaited us if not. Of course that assumes a boat relying just on radar wasn't going to run onto us first.
We all kept our watches. Ian would check in that the starboard was clear. I'd yell to Reagan to sound our horn. Mel was happy scouring the fog on all sides (she's a bit of a control freak and this was way, way out of her control. But she'd talk with both kids, keeping them focused.
Soon the fog horn that is at Saybrook light, which sits on a rock jetty, sounded like it was on top of us. Gps said we should see the entrance that the light protects anytime. All of us scanned for something, anything in the fog.
And there out of the fog came a "no wake zone" buoy that is usually next to the red nun marking the channel. We'd made it.
Next the lighthouse came into view, then a few outgoing boats. And soon, the fog lifted and we were safe in the channel, a few minutes from home. Ian started yelling, " we did it, we're alive!" and hugged his sister.
I'd been in fog before, though not quite this bad. It was a few years back with my dad and that time, I was e one with the horn on the bow, looking, seeking, listening for trouble; just like Reagan did today. At the end of that trip, I saw my Dad a bit different, braver, smarter, wiser. He was my rock that day.
I can't tell you if my kids see me that way tonight. What I can tell you is I see them differently. I see strong kids that can push away their fear and keep a watch. I see a wife and mother that watched over her kids and believed I had the answer. I see kids that don't shrink from a challenge. I see the girl i married come to love the sea, fog and all every bit as much as i do. I see a family that pulls together in times of need. that's what a family does. Today, I see the family I've always wished for and always had.
I am so proud.
We left Coecles Harbor in Shelter Island at about 10:30 after a quick run to shore and some time to get the boat ready to move. I'd spent the evening going back and forth on a game plan to get through Plum Gut- a small outlet/inlet where the Sound empties into the sea.
As it turns out, the Gut was the least of our worries, we plowed through the chop and enjoyed the 2-4 knots of push as we went. Even the Orient Point ferries gave us no issue. Soon after we were sailing at 6knts and getting another knot of current added- we were screaming.
Then we came up on a motor boat that was going very slow, so slow we thought it was in distress. The operator paid us no attention and the VHF was quiet. Weird.
Not 2 minutes later we were in the soup. Fog. The forecast called for patchy fog and I raised our radar reflector back at Sheltor Island. I really didn't think I'd have to use it.
The fog was thick, our visibility went from 10 miles to less than 30 feet. I realized why that power boat was putting along. This was getting dangerous.
I sent Reagan for the air horn and put her up on the bow. The wind had died, so I started up the engine and would be useless for hearing anything. I set Mel to watch our port side and Ian our starboard.
The fog stayed thick. I instructed Reagan to give blasts on the horn to let other boaters know where we are. We all listened for engine noises and horn answers.
At this point I should mention, I am navigating by iPhone. Its GPS combined with a nautical graphing app is really good. For $4.99, was it to be trusted with my familie life?
Soon, Reagan was saying she could hear a horn, so she'd signal back. Soon, I recognized this horn as Saybrook light. I told Reagan she could stop answering the automated fog horn.
The night before, perhaps inspired by the weather forecast, I told the kids a story about our heroes (the same heels from the stories my dad told me) getting caught in the fog and Captain Blackbeard attacking them with cannonballs. Reagan and Ian would tell me later that the story went through their heads while we were in the thick of it.
So there we were, unable to see our course and relying on a phone to keep us off the rocks. The fog began to get louder and remained in front of us, giving me hope we were on course. Rocks and sand shoals awaited us if not. Of course that assumes a boat relying just on radar wasn't going to run onto us first.
We all kept our watches. Ian would check in that the starboard was clear. I'd yell to Reagan to sound our horn. Mel was happy scouring the fog on all sides (she's a bit of a control freak and this was way, way out of her control. But she'd talk with both kids, keeping them focused.
Soon the fog horn that is at Saybrook light, which sits on a rock jetty, sounded like it was on top of us. Gps said we should see the entrance that the light protects anytime. All of us scanned for something, anything in the fog.
And there out of the fog came a "no wake zone" buoy that is usually next to the red nun marking the channel. We'd made it.
Next the lighthouse came into view, then a few outgoing boats. And soon, the fog lifted and we were safe in the channel, a few minutes from home. Ian started yelling, " we did it, we're alive!" and hugged his sister.
I'd been in fog before, though not quite this bad. It was a few years back with my dad and that time, I was e one with the horn on the bow, looking, seeking, listening for trouble; just like Reagan did today. At the end of that trip, I saw my Dad a bit different, braver, smarter, wiser. He was my rock that day.
I can't tell you if my kids see me that way tonight. What I can tell you is I see them differently. I see strong kids that can push away their fear and keep a watch. I see a wife and mother that watched over her kids and believed I had the answer. I see kids that don't shrink from a challenge. I see the girl i married come to love the sea, fog and all every bit as much as i do. I see a family that pulls together in times of need. that's what a family does. Today, I see the family I've always wished for and always had.
I am so proud.
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