Our approximate route is superimposed in red on NOAA chart 13003
(Atlantic Coast -- Cape Sable to Cape Hatteras).

October 16 0700 EDT. At the end of a cool night Alex is at the Helm as we sail down the New Jersey coast about six miles offshore.

In the meantime, Stephen proves that standing watch needn't be tiring. During the night Stephen saw a moon of Jupiter with the binoculars.

October 16 0815 EDT. David takes the helm again as a beautful sunny day commences.

Yes, we really were wearing shorts in October.

October 16 1300 EDT. Our first functional family meal. From left, Stephen Morrow, Louis Arzano (driving), Captain Ray, and Alex Dupuy. We crack the first of the Heinekens.

David (foreground) and Alex chilling on the Lido deck. As a bonus, it's a great shot of the trucker's hitch on the outboard vang rigged to the main boom.

October 16 1750 EDT. A picture-perfect sunset. A container ship anchored in the Delaware Bay approaches is visible just above the forward stanchion.

It was so good, I took another shot just in case.

In the meantime, Hurricane Irene had moved off the coast of Florida and was heading north at about 10 knots.

October 17 0900 EDT. Louis and Stephen (driving) on watch. The wind shifted to the east and from here on we were in weather created by Irene. No more shorts.

October 17 1300 EDT. David driving, in full foul-weather gear after the first squalls came through. It rained continuously and usually heavily from now until we made port, 14 hours later.

Stephen and Alex share a joke, while David drives. Earlier we saw a whale breach four times half a mile off our port quarter.

Captain Ray in the companionway, considering his options.

As the wind went into the northeast, we were sailing low and slow, using the motor to keep our speed at 5 knots to make sure we reached port before Irene reached us.

October 17 1700 EDT. Stephen concentrating at the helm.

Alex relaxing in the downpour.

October 17 1900 EDT. Winds about 20 knots and torrential rain. This finch landed on our boat and sheltered with us all the way into Norfolk. Unfortunately he was already in shock, and died by the next morning.

Captain Ray and the finch eyeball each other as the finch tries to make his way downstairs. He eventually bedded down in the forepeak.

Yup, I should have bought a disposable camera with a flash. As the sun went down and Irene got closer, the weather deteriorated. By this time we were running under a partially furled headsail only.

The last photo op before we made port. After this, things were too hairy to worry about taking pictures.

October 18 0015 EDT. The eye of Hurricane Irene is about 150 nm southeast of our position as we pass the first buoy marking the Chesapeake Bay channel.

As we went down the channel, winds were 35-40 knots gusting to 40-50 knots. Rainfall was 6 inches in about 6 hours. These estimates are from wind data from the NOAA CMAN station on Chesapeake light; we passed about 6 nm northeast of Chesapeake light on our way up the channel.

October 18 0600 EDT. We tied up to the Elizabeth River ferry dock at 3am, had a splendid hot meal of lasagna, and crashed for a couple of hours. This view from the bow shows the military ships in dry dock across the Elizabeth River.

Warships at anchor in the Elizabeth River as we motor back to Hampton Roads.

October 18 1300 EDT. Safe at our destination, the Hampton public docks. From left (standing) Stephen Morrow, Alex Dupuy, David Bacon; (seated) Captain Ray, Louis Arzano.

The hurricane seems a distant memory.

Miss Manhattan from the dock, flying her Carribean 1500 rally flag.