Progress Report

An airplane thunders overhead as I write this from a dock at the World's Fair Marina in Flushing, Queens. We were hoping to be in these parts last night, but after plowing into the wind and waves at a mere 2 knots for a few hours, we decided to duck into Stratford, CT to spend the night. Stratford is, depressingly, a mere three towns west of New Haven, but the detour proved more than worthwhile: we found that our "rigging toggle," a chunk of thick metal that holds up the cable holding up our mizzen mast, had snapped off. This chance discovery prevented a possible disaster (read: a snapped mast, and a possible end to our voyage). We also got the chance to finish stowing everything down below and to stroll about the lovely town of Stratford, celebrating Halloween with a stroll through a cemetery that featured graves dating as far back as 1681.

This morning, we eventually managed to wake up, get dressed, and leave the dock in a chilly drizzle. By the time we hit Long Island Sound, the drizzle had ended, and a nice northerly wind had filled in. After setting all three sails, we found ourselves chugging toward New York at 7 knots, which is not an unrespectable speed for this boat. With the Manhattan skyline growing ever larger on the horizon, we decided to scrap our planned stop in Port Washington and pushed on to the shelter of Flushing Bay. Features here include popular cruising destinations like Rikers Island, LaGuardia Airport, and Citi Field (home of the Mets, apparently). We were so satisfied with ourselves after coming upon a spacious but seemingly un-manned dock, thinking we'd get away with a free night's stay. But no dice: $70 later, we're trying to really enjoy the damned place.

Tonight we all enjoyed a dinner of Jeremy's meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and my dad told me not to write that he washed dishes lest my mother catch wind of the phenomenon. Tomorrow's plan is to transit down the East River and head toward Sandy Hook, NJ; we'll decide whether or not to start the 120+ mile, nonstop trip down the coast at that point. In the meantime, we're all more than ready to pass out.