Crew: Andrew, Koby, Lena, Sergey
Sunday the 16th of August was one of those typical Boston summer days that felt a lot more like fall... The weather had been hot for a few days the week before–some might say too hot–before the northeast winds took over and made the temperature dip to 17C. Nevertheless, I woke up excited–it was going to be my first sail day in 2 weeks so a sailing day was well overdue–nothing was going to stop me–not the cold and not the rain!
My time in Ireland had taught me that ‘there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing’, so warm and waterproof layers were definitely a must. When Sergey and I arrived at the dock, Andrew and Koby had already removed the sail cover on the Nelli–a Beneteau 34–and were ready to cast off. Andrew had planned to do some docking practice in Charlestown, so we motored there first. I found it interesting that telling myself that docking was just ‘practice’ made me pay special attention to the details and perform better than I would otherwise. Life is but a sequence of experiments and experiences.
We managed to successfully dock and undock a few times, with different people at the helm so that everyone could learn and build the intuition on approaching the dock at a 45 degree angle and then turning her into the wind. Until, that is, a couple of guys from the dock came to tell us to knock it off. That was the end of our docking practice exercise. We left Charlestown behind and raised the sails - it was time to start sailing.
The wind was blowing from the northeast so when Andrew asked me to decide where to go, I thought that a southern heading might be a good idea. With my finger over the chart, I drew an imaginary line going southeast and Hingham Bay was where my finger stopped - why not go there? The first time that I had sailed there with Ben and Andrew had been a cold day with 4ft waves–and the protection of Hull Bay had given us relief from the waves. Andrew considered that option for a bit and then said–let’s go to World’s End!
With the wind on our side, we made good progress toward and under the (missing) Long Island Bridge, then past Sunken Ledge and toward the West Gut channel that would bring us to Hingham Bay. With every sail, I feel my confidence as a navigator increase, my intuition for mapping the chart to the water and the water to the chart improving. The waters were peaceful–contrary to the 2-4ft waves that the National Weather Service had warned us about–Andrew steered while Sergey walked around the boat, from the bow to the cockpit, from the cockpit to the bow as he often does. Koby, who had brought a fishing rod, tried to troll for fish while I entertained myself by taking pictures around the boat with Andrew’s camera.
Hull and Hingham Bays were becoming two of my favorite places to sail - not only were they fairly well protected bodies of water close to Boston, they also had a lot of interesting things to see and to visit. There was a narrow channel that we could use to travel toward the mooring field on the east side of World’s End. Since our passing through the channel would be against the wind, Andrew decided to drop the sails and motor through. The channel transit was fun - to our port side, private mooring fields and plenty of boats and houses; to our starboard side, raw untamed nature. We moored in a nearly empty mooring field just at the right time - as soon as we started setting up for lunch, rain started to fall.
We ended up having a delicious gourmet lunch in the salon below deck. Lunch included rare treats such as vichyssoise, New England corn pudding, spaghetti squash casserole, small pastries and garden fresh tomato with mozzarella salad–all compliments of cook Koby. Since it was still raining after lunch I decided to lie down in the salon … and promptly fell asleep! Maybe it was because of the happy juice that Koby had made (spiked with rum, of course) or maybe it was the rain. When I woke up I noticed that I had not been the only one asleep–Sergey was right there with me!
The rain had stopped, and even though I was feeling lazy and relaxed (and sleepy), we inflated the dinghy and rowed to shore in order to visit World’s end, which was lovely! We saw a deer grazing, took lots of pictures and walked to ‘the bar’ - a piece of sand that separates World’s End from Planter’s Hill. The walk was pleasant and rain-free, albeit busy–we were not the only visitors: plenty of other families and their dogs had decided to visit World's End on that day. The site had been proposed in 1945 as a location for the United Nations but fortunately for us (and the deer), New York City was chosen instead!
Since we had not found anything to tie our dinghy to at the beach–and the tide was rising–we did not linger in World’s End for long. We pushed the dinghy back into the water and rowed back to the Nelli. Because we could (the wind was behind us) we departed from the mooring under sail power, which always makes Andrew happy, and returned through the same channel that had brought us there. One key advantage of not using the motor was, of course, the silence, which allowed for the sounds of nature to take over.
We had not yet left Hull Bay when I felt the first few drops of rain. It was starting to rain again. Sergey had proactively put on his bright yellow foul weather gear and Andrew asked him to steer. The cold and persistent Boston rain continued as we went through Hull Gut and turned toward Nubble Channel and then the small boat channel to return to the inner harbor.
Reflecting back on this adventure a week later, it strikes me as odd that I remember the details of West Gut and World’s End so well.. Yet I can’t recall many of the details from the second part of the trip–the cold and uncomfortable return to Boston.
This crew has sailed in Massachusetts many times and faced plenty of uncomfortable and inclement weather. However, we keep coming back.
Sometimes I wonder what draws me to sailing. Warm days and sunbathing on the bow is the image that sailing charter companies sell. And yet, there is so much more than that: sharing experiences, pleasant and unpleasant, solving problems, working as a team and learning to trust each other. That, for me, is the true nature of sailing.
My time in Ireland had taught me that ‘there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing’, so warm and waterproof layers were definitely a must. When Sergey and I arrived at the dock, Andrew and Koby had already removed the sail cover on the Nelli–a Beneteau 34–and were ready to cast off. Andrew had planned to do some docking practice in Charlestown, so we motored there first. I found it interesting that telling myself that docking was just ‘practice’ made me pay special attention to the details and perform better than I would otherwise. Life is but a sequence of experiments and experiences.
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We managed to successfully dock and undock a few times, with different people at the helm so that everyone could learn and build the intuition on approaching the dock at a 45 degree angle and then turning her into the wind. Until, that is, a couple of guys from the dock came to tell us to knock it off. That was the end of our docking practice exercise. We left Charlestown behind and raised the sails - it was time to start sailing.
The wind was blowing from the northeast so when Andrew asked me to decide where to go, I thought that a southern heading might be a good idea. With my finger over the chart, I drew an imaginary line going southeast and Hingham Bay was where my finger stopped - why not go there? The first time that I had sailed there with Ben and Andrew had been a cold day with 4ft waves–and the protection of Hull Bay had given us relief from the waves. Andrew considered that option for a bit and then said–let’s go to World’s End!
Choosing a course for our adventure |
With the wind on our side, we made good progress toward and under the (missing) Long Island Bridge, then past Sunken Ledge and toward the West Gut channel that would bring us to Hingham Bay. With every sail, I feel my confidence as a navigator increase, my intuition for mapping the chart to the water and the water to the chart improving. The waters were peaceful–contrary to the 2-4ft waves that the National Weather Service had warned us about–Andrew steered while Sergey walked around the boat, from the bow to the cockpit, from the cockpit to the bow as he often does. Koby, who had brought a fishing rod, tried to troll for fish while I entertained myself by taking pictures around the boat with Andrew’s camera.
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Hull and Hingham Bays were becoming two of my favorite places to sail - not only were they fairly well protected bodies of water close to Boston, they also had a lot of interesting things to see and to visit. There was a narrow channel that we could use to travel toward the mooring field on the east side of World’s End. Since our passing through the channel would be against the wind, Andrew decided to drop the sails and motor through. The channel transit was fun - to our port side, private mooring fields and plenty of boats and houses; to our starboard side, raw untamed nature. We moored in a nearly empty mooring field just at the right time - as soon as we started setting up for lunch, rain started to fall.
We ended up having a delicious gourmet lunch in the salon below deck. Lunch included rare treats such as vichyssoise, New England corn pudding, spaghetti squash casserole, small pastries and garden fresh tomato with mozzarella salad–all compliments of cook Koby. Since it was still raining after lunch I decided to lie down in the salon … and promptly fell asleep! Maybe it was because of the happy juice that Koby had made (spiked with rum, of course) or maybe it was the rain. When I woke up I noticed that I had not been the only one asleep–Sergey was right there with me!
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Lunch and a nap |
The rain had stopped, and even though I was feeling lazy and relaxed (and sleepy), we inflated the dinghy and rowed to shore in order to visit World’s end, which was lovely! We saw a deer grazing, took lots of pictures and walked to ‘the bar’ - a piece of sand that separates World’s End from Planter’s Hill. The walk was pleasant and rain-free, albeit busy–we were not the only visitors: plenty of other families and their dogs had decided to visit World's End on that day. The site had been proposed in 1945 as a location for the United Nations but fortunately for us (and the deer), New York City was chosen instead!
Deer at World's end |
 The Nelli and an interesting boulder |
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Since we had not found anything to tie our dinghy to at the beach–and the tide was rising–we did not linger in World’s End for long. We pushed the dinghy back into the water and rowed back to the Nelli. Because we could (the wind was behind us) we departed from the mooring under sail power, which always makes Andrew happy, and returned through the same channel that had brought us there. One key advantage of not using the motor was, of course, the silence, which allowed for the sounds of nature to take over.
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We had not yet left Hull Bay when I felt the first few drops of rain. It was starting to rain again. Sergey had proactively put on his bright yellow foul weather gear and Andrew asked him to steer. The cold and persistent Boston rain continued as we went through Hull Gut and turned toward Nubble Channel and then the small boat channel to return to the inner harbor.
Reflecting back on this adventure a week later, it strikes me as odd that I remember the details of West Gut and World’s End so well.. Yet I can’t recall many of the details from the second part of the trip–the cold and uncomfortable return to Boston.
Andrew’s note: I am surprised that Lena doesn’t remember going through Hull Gut, arguably the most challenging place in Boston Harbor: definitely the one with the strongest current, strong enough to overpower a sailboat in light winds. As we were going through, Koby was recalling that, growing up in Hull, they would specifically drive to the tip of Hull to watch the passing boats having trouble in the Gut. We were going against the current, and lost most of the wind, and were making very, very slow forward progress—at times it felt like we were not moving at all. I was already considering the next steps (either turn the engine on, or give up and go back), but then we finally emerged on the other side. With the current weakening every second, and the wind picking up, we started moving again and sailed on, away from this difficult place.
This crew has sailed in Massachusetts many times and faced plenty of uncomfortable and inclement weather. However, we keep coming back.
Sometimes I wonder what draws me to sailing. Warm days and sunbathing on the bow is the image that sailing charter companies sell. And yet, there is so much more than that: sharing experiences, pleasant and unpleasant, solving problems, working as a team and learning to trust each other. That, for me, is the true nature of sailing.
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