Rain and thunder in Calf Island

Emma

One of the things to appreciate about sailing in Boston Harbor is that the weather is never boring. The weather forecast had advised us of the possibility of rain and thunderstorms in the afternoon. But looking at the clear skies and a clear weather radar, we were optimistic that the probability would drop and that we would have another lovely sunny and windy day in the water. A south / southwest wind of 10 knots with waves of 1ft or less sounded like the perfect sailing weather - too good to waste.

We cast off from the Boston Sailing Center on Emma - a Beneteau 343 - at around 9AM on Saturday. No big plans, just a few friends trying to have an adventure together. Unexpectedly (to me at least :) ), as we were preparing the mainsail and the dock lines for cast off, Andrew said "Lena, I want you to steer us out of the dock". I didn't know what to say - "thank you" didn't sound like the right expression. “Holy s***, wow, really?!” sounded more appropriate. So I said "Yes!" and mentally prepared to focus on not getting us killed.

With Andrew's guidance and mentorship, I turned on the engine, pushed the throttle lever slightly forward and we were on the move. A right turn as we came off of the slip, then onward toward the inner Boston Harbor. As soon as we were far enough away from the other boats, Andrew asked me to turn into the wind so that Sergey and he could raise the mainsail. With the main raised, the jib unfurled and 10 knots of wind, we were on our way and ready to turn off the noisy iron sail.

Leaving Boston behind for another adventure

Clearing the inner harbor was easy - the conditions were such that we were able to reach the outer harbor and President Roads on a beam reach and a starboard tack. It tooks us under one hour to get there and start planning the rest of our adventure.

Andrew had requested a dinghy so that we could venture into one of the islands. Sergey immediately proposed the Brewsters. We all agreed that would be a good idea.

Andrew takes the helm and Sergey tries to avoid a sunburn

As we passed Spectacle Island and approached Deer Island, a swarm of 10-15 fishing boats seemed to just be hanging out there, randomly distributed. Why were they all there at 10AM on a Saturday in the same spot? We had no clue, but they didn't bother us other than making our journey toward the South Channel a bit busier than usual. I asked Andrew to take over the helm as we approached the swarm of fishing boats.

The entrance to the South Channel in Boston Harbor is marked by a green-red buoy - one of those rare hybrids that mark the entrance to two channels simultaneously: the green serves the purpose of informing us of the port side of the South Channel to our right whereas the red serves the purpose of informing us of the starboard side of the north (preferred) channel to our left.

Once within the South Channel, we made our game plan: we wanted to cross over to the little cove formed by Calf Island and Middle Brewster via Hypocrite Channel. For that, we would need to exit the South Channel (preferably without running aground) before the green buoy number 9. All worked as planned and without requiring a change of tack.

I entertained myself taking pictures around the boat on the way to Hypocrite Channel and beyond

Calf Island

The little cove was indeed as lovely as promised - with both Boston Light and the Graves Light in our field of vision, we started anchoring while trying to avoid the many lobster traps in our vicinity.

A couple of orange-tinted jellyfishes swam happily around our boat as we attempted to anchor. Emma was equipped with a windlass - an electrical contraption that is supposed to make anchoring easier. In our case, it did the opposite: as we were clearing the line and setting up the anchor in the anchor roller, the windlass - which seemed to have a mind of its own - decided to turn itself on... twice. That made us nervous, to say the least. There seemed to be no way to take the anchor line out of the windlass without taking it apart so we did our best to pass the anchor line and chain through the windlass without mangling our fingers. Fortunately, we succeeded.

Then it was lunchtime! Andrew had brought us some treats (besides the sailing itself, which is always a treat): homemade bread, hummus, tahini spread and duck meat. Yum! Sergey had brought El Dorado rum, which was the perfect complement to the feast. After lunch, Sergey went for a swim - he seemed happy! But when I tested the waters for a few seconds, it felt like a thousand knives piercing through my skin. I guess growing up 6 degrees south of the Polar Circle gives one a certain resilience. I suspect the rum also helped. 

Sergey happily swimming in freezing water

After the swim, we inflated the dinghy and got ready for Calf Island. The current was not very strong and rowing was easy. As we approached, we saw lots of kelp floating just at the surface of the water - it was the kind with the air bubbles that keep the leaves just at the surface. We rowed right through the field of kelp without thinking twice. Then we were off exploring the island. It was clear from the get-go that the many seagulls that lived on the island did not appreciate our visit.

As with all islands in the Boston Harbor, Calf Island has its own history and charm. Originally, the island was used by Native Americans. Its first "owner" was the Elder Brewster of the Plymouth Colony. After that, it changed owners a few times until it was acquired by Benjamin Cheney in 1902. Together with his wife Julia Arthur, he built a colonial style estate with 2 big chimneys, of which only one still stands tall in 2020. Andrew has visited Calf Island before and wrote about his adventure and his research into Calf Island history in his blog.

Calf island has a lot to offer

When we got to the west side of the island, where we could get a glimpse of Deer Island, we saw dark heavy clouds in the sky robbing us of the chance to enjoy this distant dreamy view of the Boston skyline. Worried that this might be a sign of bad news coming our way, I looked at the weather radar and the storm appeared to be north of Boston. I predicted (wrongly) that it would not hit us and it would instead be pushed east. We carried on our way around the island, taking pictures and both ignoring the seagull cries of anger and the darkening skies. We saw a few nests, walked around the ruins and admired the views. As we completed our round, we felt a few drops of water. We could also hear the sound of thunder. Oooops ... My amateur meteorologist prediction had been completely wrong. The wind was blowing the storm toward us, not away from us.

The storm clouds I saw on the radar appeared to be moving East. I was wrong. They were moving South

As we reached the dinghy, we noticed with a bit of panic that as the tide receded, the kelp that we had rowed through on our way in was now resting on top of rocks, giving them the appearance of furry green, wet, slippery monsters (they reminded Sergey of The Groke from the Moomin universe). We would have to carry the dinghy over several meters of slippery, kelp covered rocks in order to get to the water - and we had to do it quickly otherwise we would be drenched as the rain was starting to fall hard.

Emma and the seagulls

Safe and Sound

We all did get a little wet but we made it back to Emma just in time to avoid the worst part of the storm. As the wind, the rain and the thunder rolled past us, we rested safely and somewhat dry on Emma's salon and allowed it to pass over us. It must've taken less than 30 minutes and soon enough the sky cleared up again and we were good to go. We lifted the anchor and were on our way back to Boston. Sergey steered us around the outer brewster and through Nubble Channel, a course that afforded an uncommon low-tide view of both the tail of Outer Brewster as well as - a few miles ahead - the zigzagging tail of Nix’s Mate which has grounded ferries more than once.

Nix's Mate and its zigzagging tail