Admiral's First Cruise

June 2 - Launch +4

Today my wife came aboard for the first time, and we spent a couple of hours motoring around the northern corner of Buzzards Bay, near Wareham.  She's more of a powerboat gal, whereas I love my 'rag time.'  I find solace and comfort in the quiet absence of machinery, in the sound of wind and water, even in the constant adjustment of rigging to winds, currents, and tides.  She does not.  She made it clear that the Admiral will not be doing any work aboard the boat.  "The only thing I want to hold," she warned me, "is a cold beverage."

Four days since launch and I have yet to sail the sailboat.  I do have the mainsail rigged and ready, but these first few outings have been about getting a feel for the motor and better sense of how the boat handles under power.  My most important lesson of this day, however, concerned not the motor but rather the importance of checking the marine weather forecast before heading out.

Admiral at the helm.

We headed out in the early afternoon, riding a light chop in the river channel as we made our way to the bay.  As we passed Comeset Point, on the northeast bank, the Weweantic joined the Wareham river, whose current added to the chop.  However, it was not until we cleared Great Hill, to the south, that we met the southwest wind so characteristic of afternoons on Buzzard's Bay.  Belatedly, I checked my weather apps.  Winds were at 28 knots, gusting to 33; waves were two to three feet.  Running a course into the wind threw up a lot of bow waves, and sent volumes of spray back across the deck.  I was soon drenched.  It was a real "Yeeeeeeee-haw!" day, when the boat pitched up and down across the swells.  I was just loving it....

The Admiral soon order a change of course, and directed us eastward towards Great Neck and Long Beach near Wareham.  This course, however, brought us parallel to the waves, which meant taking those swells abeam and, consequently, to some heavy healing.  A couple of times we both looked at each other and mutter, "Whoa."  Surf was breaking over the exposed rocks of Little Bird Island.  The Admiral, to her credit, was undeterred.  "I want to see what is over there," she gestured to the northeast shoreline.  A lee shore is over there, I wanted to say but dared not be insubordinate.

After snooping offshore Little Harbor, Bourne Point, and Warren Point, the Admiral decided we should make for the relative calm of a sheltered cove somewhere.  "I'd like to just sit and read my book now," she said.  So we turned southwest, into the wind again, and ran for Wings Cove.  The winds dropped considerably when we reached the mouth of the cove, blocked by the Butler Point headland to the south.  Wings Cove afforded an opportunity to test the anchor, for which I had purchased a longer chain and anchor rode.

'Piao' at anchor in Wings Cove

Winds were appreciably weaker, and the swell and chop much reduced, when we finally weighed anchor some time later and headed home.  I went forward to the bow and hung on to Der Furler as I took a short video.

"What do you do if I fall overboard?" I quizzed her.

"Head for home," she grinned.  "You are wearing a life vest.  You'll be fine."