So the adventure begins…finally. As of 9am this morning, we are officially Loopers. 35 miles and 5 hours later, we are safely anchored in Hamburg Cove on the Connecticut River. We couldn’t have asked for a better send off this morning. As our friends at Harboredge woke up early to bid us farewell aided by the official conch shell trumpet, we turned out of the marina waving as they disappeared into the distance. Now, we were on our own.
Originally we planned to make the 60+ mile trek to Port Jefferson, but the Long Island Sound and our beloved Bella Donna had other plans for us. The wind was whipping and 3 to 5 foot waves made us feel like we were in a blender. Gin-Gins (great little ginger chews) are always my go to for the rough trips, but there is nothing comfortable about being thrown from side to side every few seconds, so our plan was aborted and we turned up the river to calmer waters and headed toward the Saybrook Breakwater lighthouse. To add insult to injury on our first day, the starboard engine was stalling with every slap of a wave against the hull. The Captain was beside himself trying to get a handle on the issue and my stomach was in knots fearing the trip was over before it even had begun. We decided to take a deep breath, drop the anchor and regroup. Finally being able to come down from the fly bridge, the interior of the boat looked like someone ransacked it. As soon as the anchor was set, I had a lot of straightening up to do. To my dismay, the 20 or so pairs of socks that absolutely had to accompany us on the trip according to the Captain, were strewn all over the V-berth.
Settling in to a quiet spot, I was trying to relax and not show how nervous I was over the engine problems while picking up all the cookies that scattered when the first wave came over the bow. Little did we know, a wedding was going to be taking place right across from our anchorage so I was able to get some cleaning motivation from Neil Diamond and the Captain suddenly had a revelation…maybe it was as simple as the ignition switch and not the engine at all. Taking off to the flybridge, I waited in the salon with high hopes, as he tested his theory. After meticulously cleaning the switch and replacing the connection, he was fairly confident that we were back on track.
So ends our first official travel day. As Sweet Caroline plays, the water slaps against the hull and Duane snores next to me, I look forward to the days to come. But, first we must make it out of Connecticut. Tomorrow is another day.