We get up early and it begins to rain lightly. It isn't supposed to do this, but why should we be surprised? The forecast is for better. We'll have our coffee, work to get the engine started, and hope.
Marion
says that the good news is that I'm getting better at bleeding the fuel line,
and the bad news. I spilled a little more diesel into the bilge, but apart from
that, the engine is successfully running. Perhaps I'll have more patience to
try to fix it dockside, or perhaps I'll just bring the boat over to the marina.
The dingy is deflated and on deck, having missed his romp in Nantucket, but otherwise having had a good trip of his own. Despite one scrubbing, there is a good film of algae on its bottom. It only takes about two weeks for just about anything in the water to get that coating. After that, its only days before ugly crawly things start in, and in another week, if unattended, barnacles begin to grow. Moving, being towed, helps a little, but without bottom paint, its a good scrubbing that's needed.
It's 7:30, the rain is letting up and blue is peeping out. We'll catch the start of the tide through the east river.
By
the time we pass Stepping Stones light house, it's raining again, but looks
like it's clearing. As we near the Throgs Neck Bridge, the rain has stopped,
and it's feeling warmer.
Airplanes
are landing at LaGuardia over our heads, and Marion watches, and waves at all
the passengers who, as she, look out their windows to catch a view of the river
below.
Passing the UN, the sun is now out. Marion predicted that the rain would last long enough to dampen workers on the way to their offices, but that the sun would come out so that everyone would regret being locked up inside. Pretty close.
I'm not sure the East River could be too much busier today! As we travel south between the Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridges, we pass two DEP boats (one in each direction). Turning into the wake of one, an annoyed small ferry swerves to pass us on the other side (he didn't have to do it), making gestures to us that we should watch out for him. Trying to get out of traffic to the other side of the channel doesn't work, with the second DEP boat blowing his horn, indicating that he wants to pass to our port. What can you say to a boat that large? We comply, finding space between that boat and the tug heading for us.
As we pass under the Brooklyn Bridge, we are greeted by two Circle Line boats (both nearly empty), a NY Police boat, a schooner and several smaller craft. Passing Governors Island, things thin out and we relax again. A half dozen or so sailboats are coming up the river, looking like they are heading of for their vacation cruises. With all the problems, we're still tempted to just swing around and follow.
It's 1:45,
and we've arrived home. The boat is snug at its dock, and Marion is off opening
up the house. We'll begin the process of unloading, and shifting to a shoreside
mentality. Cleanup, fix-up and post vacation stress reintroduction all lie ahead.
Thank goodness that cruising vacations are not stress free. I don't know what
we'd do in that case.
Marion
returns with space cases, these are milk cases that have been legally
sold, rather than stolen from dairies. She exclaims that, "the yard looks
great." The rain, indeed has done some good.
Dick and Phyllis (from Moonshadow) call, they have finally been able to leave on their cruise. We had hoped to meet them along the way, but things didn't work out (again) this year. Perhaps Labor Day.
The first
load of gear is off the boat, we sort through the mail, take a shower and relax
a bit. Solace is secure for the evening, and we talk about where to go on our
last evening of the cruise. We'll go out for a light dinner, and spend tomorrow
decompressing and finishing bringing things back into the house, making gentle
contact with the office and thinking about the one-day-workweek we have coming
up. That will, I think, wear us out and set us up for a weekend where we will
provision the house, buy some fresh Jersey corn and tomatoes, and think of something
to grill.
I'll go to the store and buy fuel line, perhaps a pump, and lots of oil absorbing wipes, and will take a shot at the needed repair before throwing in the towel.
We're home. It's not a bad place to be at all, but it's not the cruise.