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You May Be Right, Dead Right! Editors Note: If you purchase any item mentioned in this issue of the newsletter between now and September 15, 2005, we will give it to you at a discount of 15%. It was a splendid fall day in early September and my wife and I were moving south to the Bahamas for the winter. We left Atlantic City, NJ, about 6:30AM and headed south towards Cape May, following the New Jersey Intracoastal Waterway. Our plan was straight forward: we would stop just before Cape May and anchor in one of the recommended anchorages listed in Anchorages Along the Intracoastal Waterway. The next day, weather permitting, we would make the 55-mile run up the Delaware Bay to the C&D Canal.
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Crossing the Delaware Bay is something we have always approached with great caution. We lived and cruised on our trawler, Snug, and made the journey from the Bahamas to New York or Canada each spring and returned to the Bahamas each fall. Next to the crossing from West End on Grand Bahama Island to West Palm Beach, Florida, the Delaware Bay was the worst body of water we had to contend with each year. The Bahama crossing is well known among cruisers and must be approached with caution because of the strong Gulf Stream, which flows at about 3 knots north between Florida and the Bahamas. When opposed by a wind with a northern component, the Gulf Stream riles up with sharp, steep, and dangerous waves. Thus, boaters must take this into account and wait each year for the right "weather window" before crossing to or from the Bahamas.
For these reasons, each time we cross the Delaware Bay we watch the weather and tides closely. The tidal currents at the mouth of the bay are not as strong as those at the head of the Delaware Bay where the channel actually takes you up the Delaware River. When running up the Delaware Bay towards the C&D Canal, we like a light wind with an eastern component and want to leave Cape May just as the flood tide starts. On that September day, the weather forecasts were turning ominous. A front was forecast to pass through the area early the next morning. This would mean winds from the northwest: the worst direction. Worse still, they were forecast at 20-25 knots: much too strong for us to try the Delaware Bay. On top of that, when we checked the tide tables, we saw that the tidal current would be at half flood when we left in the morning and would turn against us at the upper end of the bay, where it was the strongest. However, the tide would start running up the bay about 3:30PM that day just when we were scheduled to arrive at Cape May. The next day the tide would run up the bay starting at 3:50AM and 4:00PM. Since the tide moves forward about an hour each day, it would be about three days before the tide would be running up the bay when we wanted to leave at about 6:30AM. With the front coming through and the tide as it was, it looked like we would sit for 3 to 4 days in Cape May, unless... Now, you have to understand, my wife and I do not generally run Snug at night. Rule 1d, of our Cruising Bible, Cruising Comfortably on a Budget states: "Don’t travel at night." We don’t need to, and we consider it too dangerous. However…If we did not stop this day, and instead continued on, the tide would be just starting to flood up the Delaware Bay and the wind would be with us. Perfect, except that it would get dark about 4 hours up the bay. We talked about the possible trip. We figured if we stayed in the ship channel during the night, we would avoid the possibility of hitting any of the many crab pot floats on the bay. Further, since the ship channel was well marked, we could check our position regularly by marking off the large ship buoys as we passed them. Also, since most of them were lighted we could use them to steer by if our electronic navigation failed. For the next several hours we discussed the pros and cons. By about 2:00PM we made our decision. We would make the trip up the Delaware Bay at night, casting aside Rule 1d. Prefrontal activity promised light rain and light winds generally from the south and we figured we could handle that with no problem.
Just after 3:30PM, we left the Cape May Canal and headed northwest across the shallow northern side of the Bay, planning to intersect the ship channel in about 26 miles. The flood tide was just beginning and our normal 6.3 knots would steadily increase to 8 knots+ as we approached the ship channel. With the boost from the flood current, we should be in the ship channel shortly after 7PM, and before dark. The sky began to cloud up as the prefrontal rain approached, but the winds remained light from the south. As the day progressed, we felt good about our decision. This extra run would cut 3 to 4 days off the trip and put us in the Chesapeake Bay where we could spend the extra time visiting our families. At 18 miles we passed behind the large Miah Maull Shoal light and continued on towards the ship channel at red "32". At about 5:30 my wife fixed us a hot supper and light rains were beginning to fall. The winds still were not bad and we were still feeling good about our decision. Just before 7PM we arrived at the ship channel right where planned and rushed on at nearly 9 knots. The bay was narrowing here into the Delaware River and we were really flying. We had passed several large ships off to our port in the distant ship channel during daylight and there was nothing spectacular about them. We had seen many large ships in our travels during daylight hours. We were beginning to get anxious about what it would be like to pass an ocean going ship at night in the narrow channel. We both expected to see the boat coming for miles and it would be lit up like a Christmas Tree. Wrong! We hugged the starboard side of the channel as we passed each red can and checked it off on our chart. It was dark, and I mean really dark, as we passed Ship John Shoal light and the rain was a steady drizzle. We kept a sharp lookout for approaching ships, but saw nothing. We did not have radar on Snug, so only our eyes would give us advance warning. It was about 9PM when we encountered our first ship. My wife saw it first. She said, "I think that is a ship coming!" I, of course, knew she was wrong. After all where was the Christmas Tree? A short while later, I realized she was right. At first I could barely make out the dim red and green running lights high on the horizon. The ship was totally dark except for the running lights. I was shocked! Having seen cruise ships at night on the ocean between Florida and the Bahamas, I expected the ship to be far more visible than it was. In fact it was very hard to see. I called the "down bound vessel" and received a prompt response. The captain informed me he had me on his radar and he was hugging the green side of the channel. We agreed to "one whistle" and passed quietly in the rain-filled night. I felt the ship was much too close, but realized it was the night and lights played tricks on my perception of distance. We passed one more ship before we reached mile 48 where the Delaware River takes a sharp turn to the North. The procedure was much as before. Very hard to see the vessel. A one whistle pass. I didn’t like this!
We were about half way up the Reedy Island Range and only about three miles from where we would turn to Port and leave the Delaware River and enter the C&D Canal. My wife saw it first again. (Am I useless or what?) Actually, I blame it on the fact that I was concentrating on Snug’s instruments and piloting the boat. Anyway, she said, "I think I see another ship." I didn’t want to hear that! "Where?" I asked. She told me to watch the large structure up river that was all lit up. It looked like a large power plant or steel mill. Slowly the lights went out from left to right. Of course I knew the lights hadn’t gone out, a large ship had just passed in front of the plant, blocking my view of the lights. I called for the "down bound vessel above the C&D Canal." Immediately, the Gogi Maru (the name has been changed to protect the guilty) answered. I asked if his intention was to continue to sea or turn into the C&D Canal. The Gogi Maru informed me he was "bound for sea". I informed him that it was my intention to go into the C&D Canal. I knew that this meant I had to cross his path. Distances are hard to judge at night and I didn’t want to cross the channel in front of him too close. So I told the Gogi Maru I would cross the channel now and hug the green side of the channel on the outside of the channel for a two whistle pass. Gogi Maru acknowledged this. We quickly took Snug to the green side of the channel and passed behind green "5R" just outside the channel. We had passed a small sailboat a short while before, so I called the sailboat to let him know about the down bound ship. I received no answer, though I called three different times. To this day, I don’t know what happened to that sailboat. As we continued north we entered an area designated on the charts as "Gen Anch No 3". This is an area where large vessels anchor while waiting to go up or down river or enter the C&D Canal. We were less than a mile from the C&D Canal now and, because of the deep water in the anchorage, I could have taken a short cut across the anchorage to the mouth of the C&D Canal. I did not, because I wanted to find green can "1N" and confirm my electronic instruments before heading into the canal in the dark. We are so fortunate that I made that decision.
By now, I could see the green running light of the down bound Gogi Maru. It is what I expected since he would pass me on two whistles or my Starboard side. I had just spotted the green can "1N" when I realized that I could see both the red and green running lights of the Gogi Maru. This greatly concerned me. Let’s be honest, I became frantic. I shouldn’t see both his running lights, should I? Doubt crept into my mind. I called him on the radio and while I was talking his green light disappeared and all I could see was one red light and a large black mass bearing down on us. "Gogi Maru, are you still bound for sea?" I asked. I wondered if I misunderstood, and he was turning into the C&D Canal after all. "Yes," was the response. "You appear to be passing my port," I said, a bit frantic. "I see you on my radar and will pass clear of you," was the only response. By then it was too late to do anything as this large dark mass rushed by us on our port side well inside the designated anchorage. He had cut the corner at the green "1N" can! I was dumbfounded. As he passed my next concern was for the sailboat behind us. "Gogi Maru, this is Snug, be advised there is a small sailboat up bound a short distance behind us," I radioed. His response was: "I see him on radar." Then Gogi Maru made several calls to the "small up bound sail boat near Reedy Island," but got no response. I have to be honest; at that point I was pretty upset. That large ship had just cut the corner on a marked channel and gone through a designated anchorage as though it did not matter. What if a small boat, which did not present much of a radar reflection, had anchored there for the night? What if a small fishing boat was sitting there fishing? What if? There were a hundred possibilities! Rule 1e in our Cruising Bible, Cruising Comfortably On a Budget, states: "Don’t anchor where large vessels can run you down." This makes a lot of sense to us. We had heard many stories of large boats, notably tugs with barges, running down anchored boats. It had occurred in many instances even when small boats were out of the channel, had anchor lights, and were "in the right." However, this was our first experience seeing what the consequences could have been if a small boat had chosen to anchor in that designated anchorage. From our standpoint, a much safer anchorage in the same general area on the Delaware River is the one behind Reedy Island, listed in the book Anchorages Along the Intracoastal Waterway. If unsure where to anchor, refer to available cruising guides to find out what they recommend. Don’t become a statistic! Tragically, the large ship would most likely have been well at sea before anyone ever knew a small vessel had been run down in that anchorage. Always find an anchorage where you are protected by water too shallow for large vessels. Even better, put a piece of land between you and the channel, so an errant vessel can not run into you at night. If you are rammed while at anchor by a larger vessel, you may be right, but you could still be dead! Editor’s Note: Click here to check Skipper Bob’s web site or enter Skipper Bob in the Bluewater search engine.
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