Greeting the Morgan

Voyage 15

Tuesday, 8 July 2014
First Solo
Great Hill: HW 0308; LW 0800
Winds WSW 20-25; Gusts 31
Seas 3+ ft
10.3 nm
3hr 21min
3.0 kts ave speed

*Small Craft Advisory*

This was a memorable outing.  The last remaining wooden whaleship in the country, the 'Charles W. Morgan,' had been visiting its former homeport of nearby New Bedford for the last ten days, as part of her historic '38th Voyage.'  I have a keen interest in tall ships, maritime history, and whales, and the Admiral and I row replica Yankee whaleboats with the Whaling City Rowing club in New Bedford harbor.  I had seen much of the Morgan over the last week or so, yet I so very much wanted to see her while she was under sail at sea, even if only out on Buzzards Bay.

Earlier that morning, a group of us from WCR had rowed passed the Morgan as she was preparing to depart New Bedford.  Afterwards I hurried home to take out the sailboat and await the Morgan as she made her way up Buzzards Bay toward the Cape Cod Canal.  I stopped at the house to rouse my First Mate, who had promised me the night before that he would join me to help crew the sailboat.  Alas, he was in one of his moods and refused to get out of bed.  I found myself faced with a dilemma: either to scrap my long-awaited encounter with the Morgan, or to take out the 'Piao' single-handedly.

As it happens, a Small Craft Advisory had been in place for the last several days as strong winds blew through the region.  Perhaps it was a bit fool-hearty to go out alone, given my relative inexperience, but I was confident that I could handle alone getting on and off the mooring.  I also planned to motor rather than sail, thinking that would keep matters a bit simpler this first time out by myself.

Casting off at 8:30 a.m., it took me about ten minutes later to clear the river and pass the 'Red 6' buoy off Cromeset Point.  Winds were out of the SW and already blowing about thirteen knots -- even behind the sheltering headlands of Butler Point and Great Hill.  I rounded Great Hill about 8:50, and immediately winds picked up to fourteen knots with waves at least three feet.  For a moment I wondered whether it really was prudent to make this voyage.  Perhaps it was best that Dylan was not with me after all.  Yet I was taking both wind and waves on the bow, and the boat was stable and riding well.  My biggest concerns at that point were worries that the engine might quit at an inopportune moment, or that I might fall overboard.

When I reached Butler Point, just north of Bird Island, there was no sign yet of the Morgan.  The wind out there was seventeen knots, and a lot of spray was being tossed up by the bow as the boat pitched into the oncoming waves.  Waiting for the Morgan, and reluctant to venture any further out into the bay until she appeared, I had to turn and stand on an off the point a few times.  This was a little harrowing, as I had to time my turns carefully to avoid taking abeam waves that were large enough to roll the boat sharply to a discomforting angle.  If I had been out with my friend Ric, who knows more what he is doing, I might have been hooting gleefully "Yee-ha!"  But I was all by myself, and I didn't feel so yee-ha at the moment.  At least I was not sea-sick.

Sail Ho!

The Morgan comes into view, hull down, still just a speck of white on the horizon (to the left). 

Finally, around 9:15, as I scanned the hazy horizon through binoculars, a tiny puff of white cloud became discernible against the grey background.  Instantly thrilled, I knew immediately that it could only be the Morgan, hull-down, coming up the bay.  She seemed to have all sail set, and was beautiful to behold as she ran northeastward before the wind.

Hull up!

Passing Cleveland Ledge Light, the Morgan reduced sail and hove to, presumably to reconnect her tow in preparation for approaching the western end of the Cape Cod Canal, where she was to call at the Massachusetts Maritime Academy (MMA) before continuing to Provincetown and Boston.  Vessels are required to transit the canal under power, and typically time their passage to coincide with changes in the strong current, generated by the symmetry in tidal patterns of Cape Cod Bay and Buzzards Bay.  When the former is at high tide, the canal current runs west into the latter; the currents flows in the opposite direction when Buzzards Bay empties into Cape Cod Bay.

(credit: Creative Commons)

This summer celebrations were held to commemorate the centennial of the Cape Cod Canal, which has become an important transportation artery (Would You Like to Learn More? click here and here).  

As the Morgan stood in mid-channel, I tried to take some pictures.  But 'Piao' was rocking impolitely, complicating my efforts.  The wind now was topping twenty-one knots, and the waves were almost as high as the freeboard on the sailboat.  There was a small flotilla of pleasure craft crowded around the Morgan further out in the bay, but I did not think it wise to venture out any further, given such conditions on my first time out alone.  I would have to settle for photos from a distance, and the memory of her cloud of sail flying up the bay.

Around 10:15, the Piao took a large wave (at least five foot) over the bow, burying the foredeck momentarily in blue-green water.  I decided I had had enough for the day.  There are foolish mariners, and there are old mariners, but there are few if any old foolish mariners.  I turned for home.  Once back behind the relative shelter of Great Hill headland, I found the courage to set the jib and tack about for another half hour.  By noon, I was back on the mooring, the drama over, and more than ready for an adult beverage.....

If you would care to read more about the 'Charles W. Morgan,' the whaling heritage of the New Bedford area, and our whaleboat rowing club, please see the post, "Morgan's Visit Home," at 'Ruf Drafts' (http://rufdrafts.blogspot.com) -- another blog, approved by the Admiral, created expressly for superfluous ramblings not directly related to sailing experiences.