Day 7: 6.2.18 - Surviving the Storm!

We awoke this morning after a very sound sleep to blue skies above and morning fog that dissipated to reveal the picturesque harbor of Stony Creek.  Pizza had been quite filling from the night prio so we opted to skip breakfast.  Untying from the public boat dock, we motored slowly and cautiously out into the harbor as the fog wrapped its fingers around the rocky islands, each of which, save for the smallest, was dotted by homes.

Eclipse at the town dock in Stony Creek.

Fog in the harbor

Fog burning off in Stony Creek Harbor

We motored for about an hour as we worked our way out into Long Island Sound, heading westward.  New Haven's mid-rise buildings could be seen as we headed out into deeper waters.  We shut down the outboard motor and raised the sail and jib only to find that our desires to move through the water on this day were not to be.  The motor was fired up and we motor-sailed into Stratford harbor where we enjoyed a wonderful curried rice and vegtetable pot that Gaery prepared.  With lunch finished, we headed back out into the sound to make our way to Bridgeport.

Things got interesting as we sailed along.  Cumulo Nimbus clouds gathered before our eyes into a towering black mass.  At first it looked like we might miss the storm altogether as it blew out across the waters behind us, but then it began to expand sideways toward us and soon we knew we had to get to Bridgeport before this storm hit us.  Motor On!  Full speed ahead!  We were making 6 knots of good progress but the storm was gaining upon us!  We stowed what we could below deck, I grabbed my raincoat and closed up the companionway.

Gary lowered the main sail and the jib so that we would not have to worry about being blown down in the storm.  It was a wise move because just as the sails came down, the winds began to howl.  We were a half mile offshore and two miles short of our destination with nowhere to hide from the storm!  Winds whipped and the seas turned white with foam.  Partial Eclipse, our dinghy, was caught by what had to be a 35 knot gust and flipped upside down.   Fortunately, her cover kept her from filling entirely with water.  She righted herself in the next gust, partially filled now with water.

Lightning cracked somewhere behind us as we motored along.  THEN the motor sputtered and died.  We had run out of gas at the worst possible moment, when we needed the most control!  We swapped out gas tank and tried to start the motor but to no avail.  She wouldn't even turn over!  Plan B!!!!  Gary threw out the anchor and we jumped inside the cabin to ride out the rains and winds and the angry seas.

A few moments of what seemed like an eternity passed and a rainbow could be seen at the end of the storm.  Gary and I examined the engine to try to ascertain what had gone wrong only to realize that when it had died, the throttle had not been in neutral..... a safety precaution by the manufacturer to prevent starting the motor in gear.  We vowed to ensure that we would never again leave port without checking the gas tank fuel level again!

First the storm seemed quite small.....

A couple of moments later and it had grown considerably....

Gary takes over at the helm

Still storming but there is light at the end of the tunnel!

Motoring into Bridgeport just after the storm.

\We motored into Bridgeport and looked for an anchorage for the night.  The perfect spot next to a beach was interrupted by the loudest sound system we had ever heard blasting out music.  Granted it was Latin music which we both enjoy, but this was ridiculously loud and with a booming bass to boot.

Oddest looking tug boat I have ever seen.

Hungarian Goulash!

Deer on shore as I put dinner together

I created a dinner of Hungarian Goulash, well..... my take on Hungarian Goulash.  The freeze dried sour cream powder was amazing and reconstituted itself to a delicious creamy consistency.   We were treated to sighting a deer on the beach as dinner was prepared. After dinner we raised sails and left Bridgeport harbor downwind to a quieter port at Black Rock Harbor some 3 nautical miles west.  If you could believe it, the booming loudspeakers could still be heard two miles out to sea.  Dark clouds broke as gusty winds from dying thunderstorms powered us at a good five knots into Black Rock.  Sails down and a short motor past the breakwater found us safely in a mooring zone with other yachts.  It had been an eventful day that would not be soon forgotten.