Sandy Hook, New Jersey.

September 1991.

The next morning, our new passenger Patrick arrived, settled in and stowed our food and clothing, untied the lines and headed off for Sandy Point, where we would anchor for the night, before heading out into the Atlantic Ocean and down the coast.

This day was to be one of the most trying and memorable of the trip as we sailed right up to the Statue of Liberty, under The Brooklyn Bridge and around The Battery of New York City before reaching off to Sandy Point.

The winds were strong, and easily gusted into the 30’s that day, where Patrick was quickly introduced to heeling on the boat and the wetness of sailing. I secured myself to the foredeck with lifelines and as Bill tacked Blue Grace from port to starboard, I did final adjustments on the shrouds to allow for pressure for either tack.

We headed into Sandy Point under 25 knots of wind, looking for a protected place to set anchor and as we approached our chosen spot, I proceeded to run Blue Grace aground... but managed to motor her off, as again Bill had more ammunition to humiliate me with... but it did not end there.

When we had chosen our “spot”, we prepared the anchor and tossed it overboard, whereupon we drifted around the line and wrapped it around the keel, disabling Blue Grace and not securing us for the night. Now we had a problem... winds of twenty-five knots would surely blow us loose and someone had to dive under the boat to untangle the lines. Bill, a Master Scuba Instructor for twenty five years did not have any gear and Patrick, a Certified Divemaster, neither had equipment.

So here I was, with Rescue Diver credentials , the chosen one. I donned my gear and Bill secured a line around me so that the current from the ocean flowing into the Hudson River as the tides changed would not sweep me away, I stepped down the swim ladder into the pitch black waters with a flashlight and cautiously submerged myself under the water.

Once I located the line from the anchor, I followed it blindly and began to force the line down the 6’2" keel. As it cleared the keel, Blue Grace began to swing around to her true position and I held fast to the line as I knew I was going with her whether I liked it or not. Twenty feet under the water and in pitch black, I trusted that Bill and Patrick had a grip on that rope which secured me.

While Blue Grace swung around on her anchor line, the light I was holding repeatedly swung around and glared into my eyes, disorienting me further. Within two minutes, it was all over, but it was one of those experiences that seem to be taking a lifetime in your mind... and a couple of minutes later, I was being helped into the cockpit. I was exhausted and quickly fell asleep.

We awoke with excitement the following morning and could not wait to get under way. The Atlantic Ocean beckoned and we wanted to see her in all her expanse. Although winds were still heavy, and had kicked up a substantial swell, off we went under motor. I remember standing at the helm with Patrick beside me as the first wave broke over the boat.

Then the next and they began to build, the closer we came to the open seas. At one point, one wave broke over the bow and engulfed the first fifteen feet of Blue Grace and the cockpit filled with water. I had one of those silly grins on my face, when you know that this isn’t somebody else's idea of fun, but you are making something happen that you never really dreamed would be happening.