Nobody Likes You, Michael
I'm going to apologize in advance that this post doesn't have many pictures. I blame Michael.
We left New York City on a clear day and went down to Sandy Hook, New Jersey, which is a large bay with mainland New Jersey on one side and a peninsula state park on the other. Wednesday was our last warm day, and we were determined to use it, so we anchored in a little cove just inside the park. We dinghied ashore and spent a few hours walking along a misty beach, picking up sparkling seashells of deep blues and spirited orange, and dodging fishing lines of old men who have nothing better to do on a Wednesday afternoon than sit on the beach and fish. (In case you couldn't tell, I'm making up for my lack of pictures with unnecessarily flowery language.)
We hiked inland as well, exploring little copses of trees dotted with real cacti and empty beer cans, checking out tiny crabs in patches of tall grass, and avoiding park rangers when we discovered the sign at the end of the day that said "Keep Out! Stay On Path!"
That afternoon, we made our way back to the boat to get ready for dinner. But the sun was still warm, and I wasn't going to let this last bit of nice weather go to waste. I threw on my bathing suit and went for a quick swim in our little cove. It wasn't long before the cold water set in and I lost feeling in my fingers and toes, but for those few minutes when I was in the water and could feel all of my extremities, I felt like I had really made it to a tropical vacation.
And then Hurricane Michael showed up.
We decided to move the boat to the mainland side of Sandy Hook to a harbor protected by a man-made wall. We had some warning, so I decided to spend all day Thursday, while we waited for Michael to arrive, on land. I knew that the storm would mean days trapped on board the boat without much room to stretch my legs. There were two small beach towns near our anchorage named Atlantic Highlands and Highlands. Those names are dumb and confusing, so I'm going to call the "The North One" and "The South One." We explored The North One on the fairly clear Thursday morning, then I decided at the last minute, since the rain and wind hadn't kicked in yet, to explore The South One. It was a half hour dinghy ride to The South One, and by the time we got there, the sky was starting to darken. After half an hour of walking, the wind began to pick up, and the empty beach streets were becoming dark and spooky. We decided to turn around. Sprinkles came down as we climbed into the dinghy, but I wasn't too concerned. I was wearing my waterproof coat, and my phone was safely zippered inside of it. I had tested that coat earlier on our trip, if you remember, and remained fairly dry in considerable rain.
However, I was not planning on waves. And Michael. That jerk.
The dinghy set off, and we were instantly met with some decent sized waves. Now, waves in our 38 foot 20,000 pound boat are not a huge problem. Waves in our six foot, open air dinghy are extremely unpleasant. Sitting in the front of the dingy, a few sprinkles of seawater quickly progressed to deluges of water, hurling themselves on top of me like a large, wet dog in need of extra attention and training. I would have been dryer and warmer doing the ice bucket challenge a few dozen times. And my poor coat, as adept as it was in fending of rain, was unprepared for wave after wave of constant water. Water got under the coat, in the coat, and of course, in the zippered pocket where my phone was hiding.
After an eternity, we made it back to the boat. I peeled off my jacket and took out my poor, dark phone. I tried turning it on, but alas, it did not wake. And so, Hurricane Michael claimed my phone as its victim.
Like I said, blame him for the lack of pictures in this post.
Luckily, Justin had a phone that had suffered minor water damage a few weeks before and been replaced. After sitting out, unused, that third phone dried out and became completely usable again. So after all that, I do have a working phone but wound up losing a week or so worth of pictures. It could have been much, much worse.
We spent two more nights in Sandy Hook, waiting for Michael to get over himself. That first night was very uncomfortable, listening to the wind shrieking through the harbor and feeling the waves churn around us. It made for a very bad and kind-of terrifying night of sleep.
Once the weekend came around, we were able to pull anchor and get out of there. Michael had calmed down, for the time being, and we were able to set off on our first day of real ocean sailing. It turns out that ocean sailing is actually a little boring. You set your sails, and you don't get to see much change in scenery. There's beach off in the distance to your right, maybe a slight dark bump for a building or two, and water to your left. (I swear I could see Africa for a split second though.) As we went down the coast, I was once again very glad for all of our gizmos and gadgets, making it much easier for us to navigate unknown waters and steer when there isn't much to steer towards.
The winds were about 15 knots that whole day, which meant we were heeled over quite a bit as we sailed. There was another sailboat enjoying Michael's absence, and I managed to take a quick picture of them. We were leaning over just as much as they were. The next time I got on land, I think I walked everywhere at an angle.
We anchored that evening in Barnegat Bay. It was mercifully calm, and we were perfectly content to stay on the boat all night and enjoy cooking dinner without falling over. The anchorage area is pretty far inland, and you have to very carefully navigate through sudden marshes and lumps of sand that lurk under the water. Luckily, we have some really good navigation tools and were able to make it to the designated anchorage safely. Another sailboat (possibly the one in the last picture) was not so lucky. They ran aground and, (while we eavesdropped on the radio, cackling like evil villains), they had to call for a tow to escape.
The next day we left Barnegat Bay and had a fairly uneventful sail until we entered the harbor for Atlantic City. I was down below, trying to stay as warm as possible, while Justin was driving up top. Whenever we're splitting up jobs like this and the person up top needs something (sunglasses, snacks, a bathroom break, etc.) they tap on the window to get the other person's attention. This time, it wasn't so much of a tap as it was a drum solo. I rushed out there, panicked thoughts of missing limbs, broken rudders, or shark attacks racing through my head.
"What is it?" I demanded as I came up top.
Justin pointed at the water. "Dolphins!"
I gasped and grabbed his camera. Every few seconds, a gray tail or body was surfacing, all around our boat. I was so excited, Justin turned the boat around so we could go through the pod a second time. It was amazing, and I suddenly understood why people get dolphin jewelry and dolphin tattoos. They are super cool.
We stayed in Atlantic City for a couple of days, once again, avoiding Michael as much as possible. On Monday morning there were some harsh winds and unpleasant rain. Of course, Monday morning was the day I decided to take the 45 minute walk to the boardwalk to enjoy some free wifi and finish up the last blog post. By the time I found a quiet, wifi-filled cafe, I was completely soaked and exhausted from walking into 30 knots of wind.
Luckily, it took me a few hours to put that blog post together, and by the time I left, the wind had died down and the rain had stopped. I was able to do a bit of sight-seeing! I chose to climb the Absecon Lighthouse and get some cool views of the ocean and the city.
That evening we visited a tiny aquarium right near our dock. They had some touch tanks and I got to poke a shark, a horseshoe crab, and a stingray. And we saw some pretty cool turtles/tortoises.
The next day, we left to head towards Cape May. As we got there, however, we looked at the weather and saw that Michael was making a final stand in Cape May the following day. We decided it would be best to encounter the wind further inland in the Delaware River where the water wouldn't be so rough. So, instead of stopping, we went through the Cape May Canal.
By this point, we were pretty used to canals, but this one is famous for its weirdly low bridges. There are two bridges on the canal that are 55 feet high. That's just about as tall as the mast on most sailboats. We had heard horror stories about people hitting the bottom of these bridges and breaking their masts, or even getting stuck, unable to go under the bridge at high tide and having to wait. I was terrified. And thanks to that extra phone, you can watch this video and experience my terror for yourself. (The squealing sound is me.)
That night was a very long one. We sailed until about two in the morning. Now, the cats have a pretty regular routine with us. We sail until about dinner time, when they come out of hiding and do their cat thing, such as eating a snack, going to the litterbox, or (for a change) napping. Driving until two threw off that routine. Sputnik was particularly unhappy about this. He managed to make it out of his safe hiding hole and onto our bed, then felt the boat lurch as we hit some rough waters. He was too scared to move. Well, most of him was too scared to move. His butt must have moved a little when he let out a giant panic poop on our bed.
Luckily, I had packed another set of blankets, and we were all able to get a good night of sleep. The next day, we were finally rid of Michael and we made it to Chesapeake City and a free town dock. There were a few other sailboats taking advantage of this awesome deal, and we met the crew of the Ohana X there. Originally from Montreal, their native language is French, so I tried to dig up some of my high school French knowledge and talk to them in their own language. They said my attempt was "cute." Like us, they are searching for warmer winter weather and headed towards the Caribbean. But unlike us, (and most impressively) they are doing this trip with their two kids. Somehow, they've managed to live on board with two adults, a seven year old boy, a one year old girl, and no shower. I don't know how nobody has been thrown overboard yet.
Anyway, it was a lot of fun hanging out with them and hearing about their own adventures. If you want to see more about Ohana X, you might want to click the translate option on Facebook, but you can follow them here.
The next day, we entered the Chesapeake Bay. By this point Michael had pretty much realized he had no friends and dissipated, so we had decent weather along the way. There were some other big ships that passed us, some of them more humongous than big.
But a lot of the Chesapeake was very pretty and picturesque.
Finally, we made it to Baltimore Harbor, and we were greeted by a bunch of tiny little flags sticking out of the water. Instead of party decorations, I'm pretty sure these flags marked lobster and crab traps on harbor floor. I felt like I was driving through a mine field, trying to avoid those extremely small flags. But then again, a part of me wanted to grab one and pull it up to see if we could snag some free lobster!
Thursday night we pulled into an anchorage in Baltimore. It was a little tricky getting the anchor to set. (The anchor got stuck on a pile of trash.) But eventually we got it and were able to have a relaxing evening in Baltimore Harbor.
tl;dr: We went down the coast of New Jersey, despite lots of stormy weather, and made it to Baltimore Harbor.
We left New York City on a clear day and went down to Sandy Hook, New Jersey, which is a large bay with mainland New Jersey on one side and a peninsula state park on the other. Wednesday was our last warm day, and we were determined to use it, so we anchored in a little cove just inside the park. We dinghied ashore and spent a few hours walking along a misty beach, picking up sparkling seashells of deep blues and spirited orange, and dodging fishing lines of old men who have nothing better to do on a Wednesday afternoon than sit on the beach and fish. (In case you couldn't tell, I'm making up for my lack of pictures with unnecessarily flowery language.)
We hiked inland as well, exploring little copses of trees dotted with real cacti and empty beer cans, checking out tiny crabs in patches of tall grass, and avoiding park rangers when we discovered the sign at the end of the day that said "Keep Out! Stay On Path!"
That afternoon, we made our way back to the boat to get ready for dinner. But the sun was still warm, and I wasn't going to let this last bit of nice weather go to waste. I threw on my bathing suit and went for a quick swim in our little cove. It wasn't long before the cold water set in and I lost feeling in my fingers and toes, but for those few minutes when I was in the water and could feel all of my extremities, I felt like I had really made it to a tropical vacation.
And then Hurricane Michael showed up.
We decided to move the boat to the mainland side of Sandy Hook to a harbor protected by a man-made wall. We had some warning, so I decided to spend all day Thursday, while we waited for Michael to arrive, on land. I knew that the storm would mean days trapped on board the boat without much room to stretch my legs. There were two small beach towns near our anchorage named Atlantic Highlands and Highlands. Those names are dumb and confusing, so I'm going to call the "The North One" and "The South One." We explored The North One on the fairly clear Thursday morning, then I decided at the last minute, since the rain and wind hadn't kicked in yet, to explore The South One. It was a half hour dinghy ride to The South One, and by the time we got there, the sky was starting to darken. After half an hour of walking, the wind began to pick up, and the empty beach streets were becoming dark and spooky. We decided to turn around. Sprinkles came down as we climbed into the dinghy, but I wasn't too concerned. I was wearing my waterproof coat, and my phone was safely zippered inside of it. I had tested that coat earlier on our trip, if you remember, and remained fairly dry in considerable rain.
However, I was not planning on waves. And Michael. That jerk.
The dinghy set off, and we were instantly met with some decent sized waves. Now, waves in our 38 foot 20,000 pound boat are not a huge problem. Waves in our six foot, open air dinghy are extremely unpleasant. Sitting in the front of the dingy, a few sprinkles of seawater quickly progressed to deluges of water, hurling themselves on top of me like a large, wet dog in need of extra attention and training. I would have been dryer and warmer doing the ice bucket challenge a few dozen times. And my poor coat, as adept as it was in fending of rain, was unprepared for wave after wave of constant water. Water got under the coat, in the coat, and of course, in the zippered pocket where my phone was hiding.
After an eternity, we made it back to the boat. I peeled off my jacket and took out my poor, dark phone. I tried turning it on, but alas, it did not wake. And so, Hurricane Michael claimed my phone as its victim.
Like I said, blame him for the lack of pictures in this post.
Luckily, Justin had a phone that had suffered minor water damage a few weeks before and been replaced. After sitting out, unused, that third phone dried out and became completely usable again. So after all that, I do have a working phone but wound up losing a week or so worth of pictures. It could have been much, much worse.
We spent two more nights in Sandy Hook, waiting for Michael to get over himself. That first night was very uncomfortable, listening to the wind shrieking through the harbor and feeling the waves churn around us. It made for a very bad and kind-of terrifying night of sleep.
Once the weekend came around, we were able to pull anchor and get out of there. Michael had calmed down, for the time being, and we were able to set off on our first day of real ocean sailing. It turns out that ocean sailing is actually a little boring. You set your sails, and you don't get to see much change in scenery. There's beach off in the distance to your right, maybe a slight dark bump for a building or two, and water to your left. (I swear I could see Africa for a split second though.) As we went down the coast, I was once again very glad for all of our gizmos and gadgets, making it much easier for us to navigate unknown waters and steer when there isn't much to steer towards.
 |
| That's New Jersey in the distance |
The winds were about 15 knots that whole day, which meant we were heeled over quite a bit as we sailed. There was another sailboat enjoying Michael's absence, and I managed to take a quick picture of them. We were leaning over just as much as they were. The next time I got on land, I think I walked everywhere at an angle.
We anchored that evening in Barnegat Bay. It was mercifully calm, and we were perfectly content to stay on the boat all night and enjoy cooking dinner without falling over. The anchorage area is pretty far inland, and you have to very carefully navigate through sudden marshes and lumps of sand that lurk under the water. Luckily, we have some really good navigation tools and were able to make it to the designated anchorage safely. Another sailboat (possibly the one in the last picture) was not so lucky. They ran aground and, (while we eavesdropped on the radio, cackling like evil villains), they had to call for a tow to escape.
 |
| The lighthouse at Barnegat Bay |
The next day we left Barnegat Bay and had a fairly uneventful sail until we entered the harbor for Atlantic City. I was down below, trying to stay as warm as possible, while Justin was driving up top. Whenever we're splitting up jobs like this and the person up top needs something (sunglasses, snacks, a bathroom break, etc.) they tap on the window to get the other person's attention. This time, it wasn't so much of a tap as it was a drum solo. I rushed out there, panicked thoughts of missing limbs, broken rudders, or shark attacks racing through my head.
"What is it?" I demanded as I came up top.
Justin pointed at the water. "Dolphins!"
I gasped and grabbed his camera. Every few seconds, a gray tail or body was surfacing, all around our boat. I was so excited, Justin turned the boat around so we could go through the pod a second time. It was amazing, and I suddenly understood why people get dolphin jewelry and dolphin tattoos. They are super cool.
 |
| Could it be a shark? (Baby shark do do do...) |
 |
| I named the right one Swimmy and the left one Archibald. |
 |
| Hey! Dolphins! I want to be your friend too! Like meeee! |
We stayed in Atlantic City for a couple of days, once again, avoiding Michael as much as possible. On Monday morning there were some harsh winds and unpleasant rain. Of course, Monday morning was the day I decided to take the 45 minute walk to the boardwalk to enjoy some free wifi and finish up the last blog post. By the time I found a quiet, wifi-filled cafe, I was completely soaked and exhausted from walking into 30 knots of wind.
Luckily, it took me a few hours to put that blog post together, and by the time I left, the wind had died down and the rain had stopped. I was able to do a bit of sight-seeing! I chose to climb the Absecon Lighthouse and get some cool views of the ocean and the city.
 |
| It's tall and pointy. |
 |
| I climbed 228 steps |
 |
| This is the reflecting light at the top of the lighthouse. They wouldn't let me touch it. |
 |
| Atlantic City in all its glory. |
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| The ocean is the wet part. |
That evening we visited a tiny aquarium right near our dock. They had some touch tanks and I got to poke a shark, a horseshoe crab, and a stingray. And we saw some pretty cool turtles/tortoises.
 |
| Duuuude. |
 |
| These tortoises are playing leap frog. |
The next day, we left to head towards Cape May. As we got there, however, we looked at the weather and saw that Michael was making a final stand in Cape May the following day. We decided it would be best to encounter the wind further inland in the Delaware River where the water wouldn't be so rough. So, instead of stopping, we went through the Cape May Canal.
By this point, we were pretty used to canals, but this one is famous for its weirdly low bridges. There are two bridges on the canal that are 55 feet high. That's just about as tall as the mast on most sailboats. We had heard horror stories about people hitting the bottom of these bridges and breaking their masts, or even getting stuck, unable to go under the bridge at high tide and having to wait. I was terrified. And thanks to that extra phone, you can watch this video and experience my terror for yourself. (The squealing sound is me.)
That night was a very long one. We sailed until about two in the morning. Now, the cats have a pretty regular routine with us. We sail until about dinner time, when they come out of hiding and do their cat thing, such as eating a snack, going to the litterbox, or (for a change) napping. Driving until two threw off that routine. Sputnik was particularly unhappy about this. He managed to make it out of his safe hiding hole and onto our bed, then felt the boat lurch as we hit some rough waters. He was too scared to move. Well, most of him was too scared to move. His butt must have moved a little when he let out a giant panic poop on our bed.
Luckily, I had packed another set of blankets, and we were all able to get a good night of sleep. The next day, we were finally rid of Michael and we made it to Chesapeake City and a free town dock. There were a few other sailboats taking advantage of this awesome deal, and we met the crew of the Ohana X there. Originally from Montreal, their native language is French, so I tried to dig up some of my high school French knowledge and talk to them in their own language. They said my attempt was "cute." Like us, they are searching for warmer winter weather and headed towards the Caribbean. But unlike us, (and most impressively) they are doing this trip with their two kids. Somehow, they've managed to live on board with two adults, a seven year old boy, a one year old girl, and no shower. I don't know how nobody has been thrown overboard yet.
Anyway, it was a lot of fun hanging out with them and hearing about their own adventures. If you want to see more about Ohana X, you might want to click the translate option on Facebook, but you can follow them here.
The next day, we entered the Chesapeake Bay. By this point Michael had pretty much realized he had no friends and dissipated, so we had decent weather along the way. There were some other big ships that passed us, some of them more humongous than big.
 |
| This boat was huge. It could use a diet. |
But a lot of the Chesapeake was very pretty and picturesque.
 |
| It's bridge-tastic! |
 |
| It's bridge-a-licious! |
Finally, we made it to Baltimore Harbor, and we were greeted by a bunch of tiny little flags sticking out of the water. Instead of party decorations, I'm pretty sure these flags marked lobster and crab traps on harbor floor. I felt like I was driving through a mine field, trying to avoid those extremely small flags. But then again, a part of me wanted to grab one and pull it up to see if we could snag some free lobster!
 |
| I know you shouldn't steal, but I wanted some lobster and I'm shellfish. (Hehe.) |
Thursday night we pulled into an anchorage in Baltimore. It was a little tricky getting the anchor to set. (The anchor got stuck on a pile of trash.) But eventually we got it and were able to have a relaxing evening in Baltimore Harbor.
 |
| Good evening Baaaaltimore! |
tl;dr: We went down the coast of New Jersey, despite lots of stormy weather, and made it to Baltimore Harbor.
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