Saturday Sept. 27, 2025 Great Kills, NY to Cape May, NJ 135 miles and 12.4 hours
My weather apps are saying today is the last day to run the Atlantic around New Jersey with 2' seas until at least October 9. Not waiting in NY for 2 weeks hoping that holds true. Considered stopping in Atlantic City today, but then the run to Cape May on Sunday would be in building seas. Instead, we're opting to make this haul in one long run. There's currently 12 hours of daylight and we're looking at a 13 hour plus trip at our normal cruising speed so decide best option is leaving pre-dawn. A 5AM departure eliminates running our first hour directly east into the rising sun and should get us into Cape May with a bit of daylight to set the anchor. It is dark out at 5AM with no moon.
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| Predeparture check of engine and instruments. Still pretty dark out |
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Heading out Raritan Bay as the lights of Manhattan
shine behind the Verrazano-Narrows bridge |
We slip the mooring line and follow the Navionics Autoroute function to guide us out the harbor. Then across Raritan Bay using the channel lights and our electronics. Make it safely around Sandy Hook and out into the vast Atlantic Ocean. No turning back now - only a few safe inlets along the NJ coast and even they have certain shoaling issues and are on my 'avoid if possible' list. Thankfully, daylight is starting as the horizon begins to lighten.
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| Dawn is approaching out on the horizon |
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| Sun is getting closer to breaking through |
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| Clouds holding back the sun for a bit longer |
Seas are not as comfortable as we had hoped. A bit confused with SW swells but NE winds. Not terrible but Otto is having a hard time driving a straight line even with the stabilizers engaged. With open waters and no visible reference points on the horizon, he still drives a better course than me and no way I could self-drive the boat in these conditions all day. We're running 3-5 miles offshore so the beach is still visible as we pass Asbury Park, Barnegat Inlet, Seaside Heights, and Atlantic City.
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| Running alongside Seaside Heights, NJ while the day was still young |
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| Barnegat Inlet Lighthouse |
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| Atlantic City |
Really not that much to see on a day like this. Instead, we stay fixated on the VHF radio. Coast Guard is responding to a MayDay call for a boat taking on water 21 miles offshore. Coordinates put it off the south shore of Long Island so nothing we can do to help. Ultimately a NY Police helicopter and a fast response Coast Guard Search and Rescue team is dispatched. We only hear the Coast Guard side of the radio transmissions. The other boater is too far away. Eventually they locate him and are even able to tow his boat safely back to shore. Good to know we can count on them in an emergency.
After passing the entrance to Atlantic City, the seas felt a little more subdued. Maybe true, maybe we're just getting used to the swells. Well past the halfway point for the day. Keeping an eye on the weather as a front is approaching. Rain is forecast about the time we anchor. Entrance into Cape May is a wide, jettied, easy entrance, so no drama there. The anchorage is only a bit further into the harbor and already several boats are here. We pick our spot, drop the anchor, let out the chain and feel a tug as the anchor sets. Attach our bridle and let out more chain. We've got a good 7:1 scope with all chain out so should be set for the night. Only issue seems to be a nearby sailboat. We watch him drop anchor a few times and his final set puts him behind us but closer than we would have liked. We set our anchor alarms and work on dinner and decompressing. As we're prepping for bed the tide turns swinging us 180 degrees. Rain arrives with a little wind. The anchor alarm is showing we've drifted a little. Sort of expected with the full 180-degree swing but still enough to make me nervous so decide to camp out in the pilothouse for the night to keep an eye on things. Almost midnight we get a blast of rain and wind, and the anchor alarm is WHOOPING that we've drifted. I check our location and it's true. We're dragging. Almost back onto the sailboat. Feel like I can touch their bow we're so close when we swing. Awaken Martha from a deep sleep with news we need to up anchor and do it NOW. Start the engines and don a rain jacket as Martha jolts to the helm and engage our communicators. Out on the bow I'm getting pelted with the wind driven rain while retrieving the bridle in the pitch dark. The windlass winch is working full speed hauling up chain. No concerns for if its mud covered or not. With the anchor loose we're drifting back towards the sailboat. I give Martha instructions to use more power to get us moving against the current and wind. She expertly takes us up behind a fishing boat that had come in late that has a bright spotlight burning to use as a reference. That spotlight is a Godsend as it's the only reference point we have in the blackness of the night. Once in position I release the anchor and start feeding out chain. We're drifting back fast but the anchor grabs solidly as we feel the sudden lurch of the boat being stopped. Attach the bridle and put more chain out. Couple quick reverse blasts to further set the anchor. Boats are around us, but nobody is too close. Seems we've avoided a potential disaster as we could have started a chain reaction and taken out 3-4 boats that were lined up further behind us. Back in the pilothouse I'm soaking wet and fully awake. Reset the anchor alarms again and start monitoring for any drift. We look to be holding stationary. Out of the wet clothes and back at the helm things have quieted down. The rain has eased up, and winds have reduced. Next morning I check, and we had 25 knot winds that pushed through with the rain. Gusts were higher. No rest for the weary the balance of the night as paranoia has set in about dragging again or another blast of weather. Quick cat naps in between 1/2 hour checks. Sunrise never looked so good when it arrived. Just a bit of drama added to a long exhausting day and another boating story to add to our repertoire!
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| Journey for Sept. 27, 2025 |
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