When I first bought the C&C Redwing, it was docked south of Poughkeepsie at a marina in New Hamburg. My first voyage was a trip motoring north up the Hudson River to Kingston. I set my mooring in a cove and sailed her for the season. That winter after haul out I undertook her refurbishment. That effort reversed the boat from it's aging condition. Each succeeding season has generated a growth spurt in my sailing, maintenance, and repair skills. This past summer I was ready to break past the Hudson River and appreciate the true value of the Redwing.
We were past the Bear Mountain Bridge down to Haverstraw just as the tide was starting back up river. The wind was picking up a bit so I unfurled the genoa to add a little push from the wind. The boat was healing to port and my speed was increasing when I notice my temp gauge past 200. "Oh sh#t", I quickly shut down the engine and ponder the problem. I figured the healing was preventing cooling water from getting to the engine, so I furled the genoa and restarted the engine. The temp came back down, but now as I motored it was continuing to climb to the dangerously high levels. "I should have replaced that impeller" I thought. One item on my list that I didn't get to. I even had the replacement impeller. The engine temp continued to stay high, I peered aft down at the transom to see more steam and smoke than water. "Let's drop anchor". We found a spot near shore to anchor and I cursed as I pulled off the engine cover and grabbed my tool box. I checked the impeller. It looked ok. I wanted to put the new one on, but I didn't have the right size allen wrench for the set screw. I put the water pump back together, pulled the thermostat, reassembled everything and continued motoring. The engine temperature seemed ok. We made it past the Tappanzee Bridge and anchored for the night.
I was well advised to bring the Eldridge Tide and Pilot book along. Flood current up the East River would begin around 9am so I planned for and early start. I hoped to refuel, but low tide and the early start didn't allow an opportunity. My eyes were on the temp gauge as we motored past Manhattan and rounded the Battery up the East River. We dodged the Staten Island ferries and motored along the FDR Dive. As we approached Roosevelt Island I could see the temp gauge start to rise again. I began cursing as I looked at the transom and only saw smoke and steam coming from the exhaust. I put the engine in neutral and raced the throttle. The needle dropped a little and I continued to motor forward despite temps rising back up again. This is the last place to be without an engine. As I was passing Roosevelt Island the engine temp was at 240 and wasn't dropping. I pulled the top step off the engine cover and saw water begin to spray through cracks opening in the top of the cylinder head. That was it. I had to shut it off.
I cursed the atomic 4! With all the work I've put into it, it always lets me down when I need it most! I swore I'd replace it with a diesel. There was a light breeze. I hoisted my drifter. We sailed past the Harlem River and tacked against a north easterly wind towards Hell Gate. As I tried beating east under the Hell Gate Bridge the boat spun out of control 180 degrees back toward the direction we just came. I let my sail out, headed up wind and tried again with the same result. I thought we were going to hit the rocks along the Astoria shore. We hurriedly hoisted the main to balance the sails. With mainsail and drifter we sailed away from the rocks and managed to sail through Hell Gate to the Long Island Sound.
Now what? "The engine's toast" I told my bride. We were two days into our three week honeymoon. Either we head back now, or continue to Block without an engine. We chose continue on. It's a sailboat after all. An engine is just for security. We had wind so we sailed on. It was pleasant without engine noise or exhaust.. We anchored for the second night off Great Captains Island. This was my old sailing ground where I grew up and learned to sail. Its a private town beach and popular anchorage for the town's boaters. We set anchor and for kicks I turned over the engine. It started right up. I shut it back down. It's still a last resort.
Day three we had a northerly wind and reached from Great Captains Island to Greenport Long Island with the drifter and main. It felt so good in the Long Island Sound with the Redwing. One comfortable tack all day. We had a friend who was vacationing in Montauk and thought it would be fun to meet him there. On day four we sailed through Plum Gut into Gardiners Sound. The tide and current changed before reaching Montauk, I found myself loosing ground as I attempted to round Gardners Island. We finished the day not much farther than where we started and anchored in a small bay in Shelter Island.
Past Plum Island, across the race past Fishers Island, we anchored day five on the sound side of Watch Hill. Eldridge's showed the favorable currents from Watch Hill to Block. After two days of little progress I wanted to go with the flow. I knew we weren't in the best spot with a big storm predicted overnight. Active Captain was serving us well for finding achorages along the way. It described a narrow shallow channel on the cove side of Watch Hill. I didn't feel comfortable sailing down the narrow shallow channel without an engine. With a Northeasterly wind forecast, I felt we should be well enough protected.
We paddled to shore. I wanted ice cream. I remembered the great homemade ice cream in Watch Hill. At the moment it was my driving motivation. We looked pretty derelict as we walked from the beach into town. We even caught the attention of the owner while we rested with our ice cream cones in front of St Clair Annex. "That's your boat?" as he nodded toward the beach. "Yes, that's us" we acknowledged. "That's not the best spot to anchor. There's a big blow coming tonight". He checked the weather forecast on his phone. "It's coming from the northeast. You got plenty of scope?" I shook my head yes. "You should be ok" he said with some hesitation. So I had some sort of reassurance to my anchorage choice. We ordered chili, burgers and beer and were offered a rest room to cleanup. Back on the boat I let out more scope and settled in.
The wind kicked up good. It was howling. The boat bobbed in the waves all night. It was the first time I felt slightly nauseous from the motion. I settled into bed and went to sleep. "The wind is still blowing!" she said. I opened my eyes. It was 1 am. I looked at the lights on shore. We were still in the same place. It went on like that all night. By morning the wind eased. A man walked from a large waterfront home out to his dock and yelled out to us..."Ahoy...Ahoy...Are you Ok?" I was doing yoga stretches on deck. "Yes". "Where you on the boat all night?" he hollered. "Yes" I yelled back. We and the boat did just fine, although my wife didn't sleep all night.
We stayed put for the day with a small craft advisory in affect. I wanted to go to shore again. The water seemed calm and after rocking on the boat all night, I needed to stand on land. Well it seemed calmed until we paddle closer to shore. "Let's catch a wave it'll take us in" I shouted. We paddle as a wave approached from behind and the dinghy quickly began to pick up speed toward shore. I imagined us surfing skillfully onto the beach, until the wave broke. The bow nose dived into the sand and the dinghy flipped over on top of us. We managed to collect our gear and pull the dinghy up on the beach. We looked at the waves pounding the shore and the Redwing sitting calmly. I could see getting back out to the boat was going to be a challenge.
Our appetite for ice cream was gone. We took a long walk giving the surf some time to calm. The small cove we were anchored in was protected from rough water by a jetty with a light house. Seeing people on surfboards on the unprotected side was a confidence builder. "See, there out there having fun" I said. We returned back to the dinghy and looked for the calmest place along the beach. Then after waiting for some big waves to break we pushed off between the waves and manage to paddle past the surf. It was good to get back on the Redwing. We settled in for the night and planned our sail to block the next day.
The sail from Watch Hill to Block Island was effortless. We had been warned about the potentially rough conditions out on the Block Island Sound. It was sunny, windy and the currents were favorable. Now down to my cell phone for a chart plotter, my house battery was barely keeping a charge and the laptop chart plotter didn't last. Without the engine to recharge, a small solar panel on deck is all we had to keep our cellphones going. The active captain reviews of the Great Salt Pond were filled with horror stories of a crowded anchorage with poor holding. We entered the anchorage in Block Island and looked for an area with some space to drop anchor. We dropped the anchor and tried to settle in.
"We're moving", I reluctantly started the engine and re-positioned the boat before coming dangerously close to a nearby sailing yacht. We dropped the anchor again. I kept my eye out for a while, then went below deck to rest. "Your dragging anchor!' I heard a shout from above. It was harbor patrol and they were trying to keep the Redwing from broadsiding another boat. We made another attempt to anchor, but by then the owner of the other boat was in his dinghy motoring along side us. "Do you mind if I give you a hand?" he yelled from his dinghy. He gave us step by step instructions as we set anchor again. "Now you can relax and have cocktails" he said before motoring back to his sailboat.
I stayed on deck with eyes peeled. My neighbor was back in his dinghy on his way to shore. "I'm afraid of the boat dragging anchor again" I told him. "You aren't going anywhere, your anchor is set good" he said as he motored past. We loaded a backpack and paddled to shore. It seemed like a long paddle with the wind against us. We made it to shore and scoped out the island by foot. We grabbed a bite to eat, then hit the beach. Life was good. As we made the long paddle back to the boat, I assured my wife we would go to dinner by taking a launch to shore.
We had a romantic dinner. The next day was another great beach day. We met up with my neighbor and his wife for dinner then made the rounds. We discovered BI famous mudslides, though were weren't so impressed with the frozen drink. Where's the alcohol? It was a good night of bar hopping and an easy ride back on the launch
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We were noticing more and more boats arriving in the anchorage. My neighbor tried to sell us on staying for the weekend. "Fourth of July is lot of fun here" he pitched. But we had reached our destination and I wanted to leave plenty of time for the return trip, anticipating a sail up the Hudson. With all the scope I had out, I didn't feel comfortable with boats crowding around. We decided to leave before the weekend and take the south side of Long Island back.
I started a thread on Cruiser Forums to get feedback on my plan to sail the south shore back without a reliable engine. I was advised to choose a window with favorable wind conditions, stay at least 2 nautical miles offshore, and sail nonstop to Graves End Bay. We left Great Salt Pond and headed to Montauk. It was slow going. The wind was light and currents were strong. I finally started the engine just off Montauk point. We motored to a cove and anchorage for the night.
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