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As mentioned yesterday, heavy winds started showing up in the forecast for Thursday and Friday a few days ago.

When we added two nights in Rockland, we pushed out the return date. But I had promised the crew I’d get us home by the weekend.

To pull that off, we had to get to Portland in one day and somewhere in Massachusetts before the seas kicked up on Wednesday. Since we’d likely spend three days somewhere in lousy weather, I wanted us to end up in a interesting port with plenty to do within walking distance.

The closest was Salem, 92 miles south, followed by Marina Bay, 109 miles, and finally Plymouth, 123 miles away. I booked all three through Saturday morning.

The marine forecast called for growing seas after noon, so I asked the crew to prepare for a 7:00 AM departure. This would enable us to clear Rockport (MA) before 11:00.

We left Portland at 7:10 AM. I entered Plymouth as our destination, and the computer showed it was 123 miles away.

As we exited the outer harbor, we had light fog. We also ran into some 3-4’ waves. I told myself this was nothing more than the mouth-of-the-harbor swells we often see leaving Newport.

Contrary to my initial thinking, all of my Massachusetts destinations were actually southwest of Portland.

The other interesting thing about this course was that most of the trip was in open ocean. At first, this seemed like a good thing. By traveling well offshore, we’d be free of lobster pots and other vessels if the fog returned.

About two hours into the trip, that theory turned into reality.

Entering The Twilight Zone

After an hour of five-mile visibility, we ran into a thick pea soup fog bank. The fog was so dense that it made seeing the water in front of the boat impossible.

Mrs. Horne mentioned slowing down, but I thought, “Why?” At this point, we were 25 miles off the coast of New Hampshire, in 600 feet of water, with nothing around us.

Traveling blind at 26 MPH definitely felt like we were in the twilight zone, but it was really no different than flying in a commercial airliner in the clouds or at night.

That said, I did screw up one thing. I installed Starlink on Amazing Grace primarily for streaming TV but also to give us communication offshore. The problem was that I forgot to toggle my coverage plan to Open Ocean, and accordingly, we had no internet or cell phone coverage for several hours.

We did still have the VHF, but due to the earth’s curvature, we were too far offshore to have a line of sight to land.

While flying through the Twilight Zone, we got within radio range of two other big boats heading north and exchanged reports on the fog.

The first guy said he was coming from Boston and had been in the fog the entire trip. Another guy was coming from Provincetown and said the same thing.

About the time I was getting comfortable flying blind, I noticed the seas were building. If they got bigger than 3-4’, I’d have to reduce speed, which meant not getting to port before the afternoon winds kicked up.

Around 10:00, I asked the crew about bailing to the closest East Coast port. The nearest was Newburyport, but it was likely two hours away. Ironically, as we discussed it, a PAN PAN came over the VHF from the Coast Guard, announcing that the boat that ran into the rocks off Newburyport was safe.

I changed our destination to Salem, which was only about an hour closer than Plymouth. The boat-on-the-rocks report got me thinking about picking my way through the fog in a narrow channel, and my anxiety spiked once more.

Peter said, “If it’s going to take two hours to get anywhere, why not keep heading toward Plymouth?”

He made an excellent point. I expanded the view of the chart and noticed that we’d be fifteen miles offshore all the way to Plymouth, which meant few other boats and no lobster pots.

We proceeded to Plymouth and almost on cue, the fog lifted and the seas died down.

There’s nothing quite like the joy one feels as you emerge from the fog into visibility.

With the seas calming, I brought Amazing Grace up to 29 MPH, which brought the ETA in Plymouth to noon.

When we got east of Rockport, the Starlink reengaged and Peter began checking webcams. It was clearing to the south.

Life on the boat was excellent again!

To top off our mutual euphoria, we were suddenly surrounded by a pod of at least 50 dolphins.

Shortly after that, we began seeing land on the horizon and arrived at Plymouth’s outer harbor around noon.

Next Up – Winding Down In Plymouth