Article Index Menemsha or Bust Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 1 of 4 Menemsha or Bust by Mike Marks Summary: In July 2007 the Marks Family, middle aged parents with girls ages 4 and 10, take a 6 day cruise to Hyannis, Oak Bluffs, Menemsha and Falmouth on their 25' sailboat. They brave heavy fog, 3' chop, a nervous night at anchor and a questionable motel. They lead a successful rescue mission and perform a good deed that is punished. Menemsha Harbor As we load up the Flying Fish in Saquatucket Harbor there are wisps of moisture in the sunshine.  Our goal today is Cotuit but we’re getting a late start.  Jon, an old friend, sees us and stops by with a question:  “Do you have a radar reflector?”  It was on the list but didn’t make it into my shopping basket at West Marine. “No,” I answer with embarrassment. “I can lend you one,”  he offers.  With confidence in the borrowed radar reflector (immediately set aloft) and a new  Garmin 76cSx  GPS unit we set off.  Ginger notes that no other boats are out.  “It’s a summer day on Cape Cod. How come we’re not seeing anyone?” As the afternoon wears on the wisps of moisture coalesce into a dense fog. The sun vanishes and the wind and seas build.  It's bumpy and 4-year old Abby feels seasick. Ginger's nervous.  With Cotuit still 2 hours away I suggest spending the night at Hyannisport. Ginger agrees. Visibility is 1/8 mile now. As we pass the main channel to Hyannis a ferry heading for Vineyard Haven appears out of the fog. The ferry has slowed down for us. Thank you Jon, thank you radar reflector. I make a mental note that I should have called out on channel 16 to announce that we were crossing the channel. The fog becomes heavy, wet and cold.  Visibility drops to 100 yards. As we duck behind the Hyannisport breakwater the anemometer shows the wind gusting to 20. We anchor among the moored boats and listen to the marine forecast.  I’d been checking that forecast three times a day for the past two weeks. I checked it this morning but not again before we set off.  Having already delayed this trip by a week in the hope of a good weather window I was convinced that we'd found one.  Having made the decision to go, having bought the food and loaded up the boat, I wasn't going to be easily dissauded from setting out. Now it’s clear that the weather window I’d counted on had closed. The forecast is for intermittent thunderstorms tonight and tomorrow.  In the cabin lit by oil lamp Ginger and I stare at each other.  Her expression says “get me off this boat NOW.”  I’m thinking, “this isn’t good but a thunderstorm on top of us would make things a whole lot worse.”  The kids are wondering what’s up.   We start our dinner routine and the mood lightens. The boat is rocking and the sausages roll on the new Magma grill. The Flying Fish is a 1983 O’Day 25 sloop with a keel/centerboard and a 5hp Yanmar diesel inboard.  I pulled the centerboard up when we anchored.  I let it down again to lessen the rolling.  The boat rocks less, but now there‘s a clunking sound, a not unpleasant bass metronome to me, a portent of doom to Ginger, that will sound through the night. The crew is happy when we go to bed.  I read books to the girls in the forward cabin and then settle down with Ginger on the slide-out double berth in the main cabin. I wake up once in the middle of the night, note that we‘re rolling a fair amount, that Ginger is tossing and turning and then fall asleep again. No worries. I sleep well. Ginger sleeps badly, fearing that she'll be rolled onto the cabin sole and that the girls will wake up. At 6am we listen to the forecast: wind gusting to 25, fog and intermittent thunderstorms. We decide to go to Hyannis Marina. We’ll figure out what to do next once we get there. Ginger’s thinking about taking a taxi home to Orleans and abandoning our trip. I plot a course from buoy to buoy using the Garmin. Visibility is approx 200 yards when we set off but improves as we enter the harbor. As we get deeper into Lewis Bay the water flattens out and visibility increases to over a mile. Ahhh. That’s a relief. Ginger’s happier. The girls wake up and look around. Hyannis Marina is well protected and even a little picturesque. When we arrive there are two motor yachts in the 100’+ range.  Each yacht has its own staff dedicated to shining and polishing every inch of the vessel. No one is at the office at 7am so we tie up at an appropriately sized empty slip. Later in the morning we are moved to another slip, beside an Alden 54’ yawl named “Angel”. The bathrooms are clean. There’s a swimming pool and the sun is shining brightly! The marina is well protected from the wind. The pool water isn’t especially warm so the kids and I put on shorty wetsuits and thoroughly enjoy it. We look a little silly in our wetsuits so I note with satisfaction that other people get out of the pool after 5 minutes while we stay in for over an hour. Ginger continues to muse about bailing on the trip and heading home. I keep my mouth shut. The effort to put this little trip together has been substantial but I don’t want to continue unless we’re all up for going on. Ten year old Jane puts forward arguments for continuing.  She’s not in love with sailing but she’s dedicated to the concept of sailing our own boat to Martha’s Vineyard.   Prev - Next >>

Last Updated ( Friday, 18 April 2008 )

 

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