We have a leisurely breakfast of scrambled eggs and some sort of smoked, peppered fish that I bought from the lobster shop at the beginning of the Cape Cod Canal. We only bought it to give it a try but having eaten it, I really wish I’d bought more, and that I could remember what it was called. I think it had an unappetising name like ‘scrod’ or something.
After breakfast we leave our mooring ball (thanks Bill) and head just outside of Edgartown to anchor and use the internet for a while as it has been so bad for the last couple of days and Mike needs to get the weather reports. What Liverpool Football Club website has to do with this, however, I have no idea. Still it’s an opportunity for me to use Facebook!
I have to say that the lighthouse looks much nicer without it’s halo of tourists although the beach at Chappaquiddick Island looks more like a small scale Blackpool than I would expect to find here.
The winds are forecasted to be light but with a favourable current we make 5.5 knots. As the wind turns more to the east, we put the sails up and get around 6.5 knots for most of the day.
It’s an uneventful day, warm and sunny in the morning and early afternoon, turning a bit cloudy and cooler as the wind strengthens during the afternoon. There are lots of moronic skippers out on their fast motor boats who seem to delight in shooting straight in front of you or along side you making huge wakes to irritate us and rearrange the contents of the boat. Plonkers!
There are also still the lobster pots to contend with, and although thankfully they are few and far between, it does mean you have to keep your eye out on the ocean rather than down in your Kindle. By late afternoon, however, both prats in motor boats and lobster pots have disappeared leaving us completely alone on the sea. Until bed time, that is.
Victoria opts to do a night watch with me so at 9 pm she heads down to bed. I am just getting my things together to do the same when I notice Mike looking very intently through the binoculars at something on our starboard side, and going out to investigate, I discover that a fishing boat is coming straight for us. He comes closer and closer and we can clearly see all his lights and deck equipment but although Mike calls him, he makes no attempt to acknowledge us. As he is a working boat he has right of way, but common courtesy should prevail to at least communicate with a boat that you are about to plow into. Mike has no alternative but to swerve dramatically out of his path. It’s a good job our sails are only out to give a bit of extra speed – I don’t like jibing!
The fishing boat goes off, lights blazing, totally oblivious. There is no one on deck hauling nets or putting them down (he’s close enough for us to see that much) so it makes me wonder if the bastard’s asleep at the wheel. Serves him right if the next boat he meets is a tanker!
Position: 40 deg 53 min N, 71 deg 56 min W
Distance so far: 2147 miles
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