On Monday July 8th, a quick check of the forecast indicated that high wind (gusts to 35 knots) was predicted off the Jersey Shore for Wednesday, directly out of the South. We made a quick decision to leave Sandy Hook Monday instead of Tuesday. There were sunny skies when we departed around 9 AM.
When most people think for the Jersey Shore images of white sand, boardwalks, Bruce Springsteen and the TV characters like Snooki and The Situation come to mind. Our experience was anything but that…
About an hour into the trip to Manasquan we came upon dense heavy fog within a high small-craft density fishing zone. There was everything to look out for but nothing that we could see. As we passed through banks of fog, our visibility was less than 100 ft (two boat lengths) at times and as much as 600 ft.
In the days proceeding, there had been high heat advisory’s that caused evaporation and humidity. As the hot humid air intersected the relatively cold-water surface, moisture condensed creating advection fog.
The navigation tools at our disposal were the AIS (aka Automatic Identification System) where we can be seen as well as see other vessels on the chart plotter. You can click on the vessel and receive its length, bearing, and type. Unfortunately, most smaller craft aren’t equipped with AIS. These boats are often small, traveling at high speeds while seemingly unaware of the possibility of coming upon a slow traveling sailboat.
The other system is radar that picks up solid objects as small as a navigation buoy. Things were a bit stressful until Scott adjusted the radar to one-eight-mile zone and turned up the gain. He also set an alarm to notify us if anything entered the zone. The challenge shifted to combating our boredom.
Upon our arrival at Manasquan Inlet, we could not see the entry bordered on both sides by heavy stone block jetties less than 50 feet away. As we entered Manasquan Harbor a large party boat was coming toward us sounding its booming horn. We were not in the way, as its regulation for commercial vessels, but nonetheless unnerving.
Scott hopscotched Kailoa through the narrow opening between dozens of small boats bobbing in the channel. As we approached Hoffman’s Marina East (where we hoped to tie up for the night), the low outgoing tide current picked up to 2 knots by the fixed RT 35 bridge on our port. Our assigned slip was on the other side of the outer fuel dock.
To enter the slip Scott had to make a 180 degree turn in the runway, clearing the bow of the fuel dock (starboard side), while clearing the border piling 20 ft (port side) off the fuel dock. Simultaneously we needed to avoid our stern hitting the 50 ft power boats along the narrow alley. In the high current we made 2 attempts before concluding that we could not safely control the landing of the Kailoa boat into the slip without causing damage to ourselves and others.
We were able to tie up at the fuel dock temporarily and re-group. It was 3 PM with dead low tide approaching at 4 PM. This left an hour window to either secure Kailoa in Manasquan or depart for Atlantic City (AC). Ordinarily we would have been able to stay on the fuel dock for the night, but the space was reserved for a 73 ft power boat. We talked to the dock hand who commented that the current is always strong at this point in the river no matter what time of day. There was a quarter mile queue of boats in the channel waiting to pass through the RT 35 open bridge. We considered leaving and making an overnight trip to AC.
After a few phone calls, Scott was able to identify a second option at Captain Bill’s Landing, closer to the mouth of the inlet. As we approached the slip Scott came a little too close to an unmarked sand bar and ran Kailoa aground in about 4 feet of water (we draw 6 ft). The stern of Kailoa was about 20 ft from an anchored fishing boat.
The occupants sat and watched as Scott gunned the engine with exhaust billowing from the stern. The high current pivoted the boat 200 degrees, freeing us from the bottom. While the tie up at Captain Bill’s was uneventful, we were both a bit strained. We found Manasquan to be the quintessential charming Jersey Shore town as we walked Jax through the adjoining neighborhoods and re-set a second time.
The silver lining of the day was that our dear friends Karen and Pete Minus traveled from East Brunswick to meet us at Harpoon Willys overlooking the Manasquan River. Karen was a college roommate (Pete her husband) who we had not seen for decades. It was a miracle that we were able to connect with them given the window. Pete is originally from Jamestown, RI and we made a date to meet there again next year. As it is with good friends it was as if no time had passed, and our dinner together went way too fast. Thank you Kar-Kar and Pete!!!!
Kailoa pitched and shifted on the dock later that night, providing a constant reminder of the ever-changing current in Manasquan Inlet. During the sleepless night Scott got up to adjust the lines. I closed the hatches when the dew began dripping on the bed. We knew that night that it would be low tide at 6 AM, our planned departure time for Atlantic City.
At 3 AM our minds were restless. How will we get off the dock? What is the expected current in the early morning? How much space from the sandbar did we have to back out of the slip? Would there be dock help at the hour? What was the latest wind forecast for Tuesday afternoon off Atlantic City? Did Jax get enough to eat and drink earlier in the day?
What do you do at 3 AM on a boat when you can’t sleep? Google University.…. A few searches revealed that Manasquan Inlet slack tide (equaling zero current) occurred at 7 AM. We got lucky.
Captain Bill was on the dock at 6 AM and was able to provide some additional local knowledge along with extra hands to get Kailoa off the dock. More dense fog and a parting blast as we rounded the point for the 50 miles leg to Atlantic City. We decided to chart our course close to the shore thinking there would be less boat traffic. It proved to be a good strategy because we never encountered another boat in 6 hours of travel. The iconic shore towns of our college days; Asbury Park, Point Pleasant, Seaside Heights, Beach Haven, Brigantine …invisible. We looked at one another and commented that this was not what we pictured during our passage along the Jersey Shore.
When we came to the Atlantic City Inlet, the towering casinos floated on the fog. On a dock at the foot of the Golden Nugget, after traveling 375 NM (nearly a quarter traveled in fog) we took in the reality that we are a long way from Massachusetts.
HOLD FAST
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