Sailing a C&C 38 to Maine in October
Old friends on an old boat
When my good friend George Sass Jr. called to say he had purchased a 1977 C&C 38 sloop and wanted help delivering her to Maine in October I did not hesitate. We have a long history both professionally—where we worked together at several major marine magazines—and more importantly doing a number of offshore deliveries on both sail and powerboats. Given the overnight nature of this trip, our friend Bob Bauer, an experienced sailor, former colleague, and all-around good guy would also join us. I knew there could be challenges heading north in late fall on a somewhat neglected boat, but it would be fun to go sailing again, even if all three of us are now mostly powerboaters.
George recently sold his Grand Banks 36 Tala that he and I, along with a colleague, had cruised from The Thousand Islands through the Erie Canal, down the Hudson, and then up to Maine several years back. (A story for another time.) He now has young children, and while the family loved the Grand Banks, the goal is to have them learn to sail in order to do some more extensive cruising on a larger boat in the future. This new boat would be transitional to see how the family takes to sailing.
Why The C&C 38?
George and I both habitually peruse Yachtworld and other searchable databases looking for interesting boats which we compare and contrast for fun. To fit their family’s intended mission there were lots of options, so why this C&C 38?
They are known to be good sailing boats that are well constructed. The cockpit is also safe enough for children with a substantial combing and no open transom aft. There is enough room for George, his wife, and three kids to do some coastal cruising, although it will be cozy. I have fond memories of my childhood, where my two brothers and I, my parents, and our dog lived aboard a Venture 24 cruising through the Florida Keys for a week! Close quarters literally brings families together. Does everyone really need their own stateroom and head? I guess it depends on your family.
This particular boat was donated to the Massachusetts Maritime Academy where it had been used by their cadets and was now offered up for sale at a very reasonable price. This meant that George could afford to spend some time and money getting the boat set up how he wanted to cruise Maine. Sure, work needed to be done, but the sails, standing, and running rigging were for the most part in good shape. George assured me she was seaworthy. Well, seaworthy-ish.
The Plan
We planned to take the boat from her mooring in Marion, Massachusetts to Yarmouth, Maine where she would winter in a heated shed at Yankee Marina & Boatyard. This is the same yard that did spectacular work on George’s Grand Banks Tala which was in absolutely pristine condition when he sold her. While Tala’s sale saddens me, the idea of George revitalizing an old boat to bring her back to her former glory so a new generation of boaters (his family) can learn the joys of sailing counteracts that. But first we needed to make sure the boat was equipped safely for the passage and run the 130 nautical miles as the crow flies, somewhat more as the boat sails, up the coast.
The plan was to motor through the Cape Cod Canal, (sailing is prohibited), pause in Sandwich, Massachusetts at the head of the canal, and then sail in one shot up to Maine. Once in the ocean there are places you can duck in along the coast if you have trouble. The most prominent one is Gloucester Harbor which is not ideal with our 6’7” draft, and Cape Ann is known for extreme conditions, and currents that can make rounding close up on a leeward shore difficult, so we wanted to avoid a stop if possible.
We planned the trip for the week after the Annapolis sailboat show. When I packed for the show, I also included my foulies and other gear including a Starlink Mini satellite panel. The Mini is so compact I put it in my computer bag which is pretty amazing for a system with global internet capabilities. We would test the functionality of the dish, and since we would be out of VHF and cellphone range for a good portion of the trip the Starlink would act as backup communication. There was an old SSB on board, but no one was sure it worked, and since the backstay was not isolated, I questioned whether the radio even had an antenna. As an experienced boater, a father, and the primary breadwinner for his family, George is serious about safety, which I appreciate. He procured a life raft and bought an EPIRB, and some PLBs for the passage. He also brought a camp stove that could sit on top of the gimbled propane stove so we could cook without first having to ascertain the safety of the gas system on board. New life jackets, throwables, whistles, and an air horn along with a handheld battery powered GPS we always use on deliveries were just some of the myriad gear he brought for the delivery.
Preparing and figuring out the C&C
George and I arrived in Marion in an SUV jam-packed with gear and were eager to get onboard. As we approached the moored boat, her clean lines and dark blue hull looked distinguished in the drizzly morning air. I walked around the deck familiarizing myself with her rigging and layout. The forward anchor locker cover was a bit spongy which wasn’t ideal but most everything else topsides, while slightly worn, seemed reasonable. The standing rigging seemed in good shape. The running rigging looked fine although the only spare halyard didn’t go all the way to the mast top. Inside we checked the engine oil which was changed prior to the trip and made sure the engine sea cocks were open. After a few cranks we got the little Westerbeke 27-horsepower diesel started and did not even need the portable jump starter we brought. We had kindly been given permission to use the city dock for a little while, so we motored over and tied up.
We quickly inventoried the boat and started figuring out systems, making a list of things we would need, and prioritizing repairs. Bilge pump didn’t work. Running lights didn’t work. VHF radio was barely audible. No sailing instruments. Mast head wind indicator was gone. No autopilot. However, there was some good news. The batteries seemed fine. The engine sounded good and started right up, so we filled the diesel tank from a jerry can and then kept another for spare fuel. The water system worked although the main faucet leaked so you had to keep it turned off. It took us a while but we discovered that the second tank which had been previously attached to a watermaker had a separate hand pump in the galley so we could just use that. I crawled back and inspected the quadrant, and the steering cables looked good. The loading and working continued through the day. We were basically trying to do about a week’s worth of boat projects in a day and were on the clock.
To make it through the canal with the proper tide, connect up with Bob in Sandwich, and be ready to leave from there while the weather was still cooperating would be a challenge. The forecast called for brisk west winds which would be off the beam at first but then were supposed to taper down and come more north which was where we wanted to go.
Raising the mainsail in the relative calm at the dock it seemed to be in good shape, so we rigged the reefing lines. The sail had two solid reef points. All of the lines led through blocks at the base of the mast and then to brakes in the cockpit where they could be led to a winch on either side under the dodger. This is a nice system as it allows you to raise, lower, and reef the sails without leaving the cockpit. The fact that the winch on the starboard side was a little wobbly was not ideal but noted. We pulled out the foresail and the old Profurl system seemed to work just fine. The sail, however, was a sizeable 170 percent genoa which we both agreed was way too big for this trip, especially since the wind was supposed to be on the nose as we approached Maine. We pulled the jenny carefully out of the track and dug another headsail out of the forward cabin. After some fiddling and fussing we got the sail up. This was still a sizeable jib, but much better for this delivery where we expected some decent wind gusts. The day wore on like this cleaning, organizing, and fixing items. By early evening I was hurting. We had not eaten since the morning and the task of getting the boat ready to head out the next day seemed daunting. Usually cheerful, I started to spiral. George noticed, and helped pull me back up with a trip to the marine store for supplies and some much-needed food.
The next morning, in better spirits, I quickly got back to work. We needed to get things settled on board so we could leave on the afternoon tide in order to make it through the Cape Cod Canal with the current.
The electric bilge pump didn’t work so George pumped the bilge out with a hand pump and bucket. I cleaned up the electric pump, which had an internal float, but it did not work so I carefully cut the wires and installed a replacement we had purchased. Nothing. I tried the switch on the panel, but it still did not work. The panel had power so why wasn’t it getting to the pump? I started tracing the wires back, gently tugging the ones in the bilge to see where they connected and followed them through the engine room up toward the panel. The wires didn’t seem to go to the switch on the panel which was odd. Then I saw it. Tucked off to the side in the galley was a separate switch. Wala! One flick and the bilge pump whirled to life. Dumb mistake. We had looked around but neither of us saw the second switch. These are the kinds of things that make it tough when you don’t really know a boat. I then cleaned up and tested the bilge pump I had just pulled out and of course it worked. At least we now had a working pump and a backup.
George is very systematic and had all of the new gear in storage containers which we had transported from the car and stowed. The red/green running light forward still wasn’t fixed, but I had a new one and could fix it in on the way, and we were going through the canal in daylight. Other than that, we had done all the vital work and were ready to go.
Maiden Voyage through the Cape Cod Canal
We motored out of the harbor and made our way through the series of buoys into Buzzards Bay. We had some wind behind us, so we pulled out the jib and started to sail. I felt a crazy relief as George turned off the diesel and we were sailing. It had been too long since I sailed a coastal cruiser like this and it all came back to me in a way that made me smile. With current pushing us along we sailed into the canal past Mass Maritime where our boat had spent time, and then as the channel narrowed and the wind died, we furled the sail and gently motored the 7.5 miles through.
The Cape Cod Canal connects Buzzards Bay to Cape Cod Bay and provides boaters with a convenient shortcut to going all the way around the Cape. First conceived by Miles Standish of the Plymouth Colony in 1623, various attempts were made over many years to dig out and connect rivers and marshes on both sides, but it was trickier than it seemed. It wasn’t until the late 1800s that serious efforts began and after several failures the Cape Cod & New York Canal Company finally succeeded. The canal was completed in 1916. Originally a privately owned toll canal, it has since been enlarged and taken over by the Army Corp of Engineers for public use. It is very convenient and pretty impressive, saving us well over a day on this trip and eliminating the hazards that surround the cape.
Bob met us in Sandwich and George reviewed onboard systems with him. I got the Starlink mounted and working and as the sun set fiddled in the chill air on the bow installing the new running light. A fellow boater on the dock in front of us watched me work and asked me where we were going. When I said Maine, he looked at me like I was crazy and remarked that we were heading the wrong way. He was headed to Florida.
Sailing to Maine
At the crack of dawn, which coincided with slack tide at the mouth of the canal, we headed out. We had watch schedules set, a plan that had us heading mostly on the rhumb line but slightly west of north to counteract forecasted head winds, and we were all bundled up with foul weather gear, inflatable PFD harnesses, and clipped into the jack lines we had run. I like to have a jack line in the cockpit as well as on deck. On my dad’s boat we mounted pad eyes at the companionway and at the helm so you could clip on at the steps while still in the cabin and be hooked on throughout the cockpit. To go forward you then clipped to the other jack lines that went to the mast and bow. With a double tether you never have to be unclipped, which is ideal especially when sailing solo or short-handed.
The wind was 10-15 knots on the beam, so we raised the main, unfurled the jib, and were sailing. It was exhilarating to be out in the brisk morning air and making way. Under the protection of Cape Cod, we were moving nicely at over 6 knots. We needed to try to keep some speed on because eventually the wind was supposed to clock around and die off. The boat handled well, although as a racer/cruiser design, she is slightly tender. We certainly did not need the large genoa we had swapped for the more manageable jib. For navigation we were using iPads in protective covers at the helm and the compass of course. George also recorded our position on a regular basis on a paper chart below with the Garmin GPS.
Clearing by Provincetown at the tip of Cape Cod wave action picked up as did the breeze. We were healing hard while taking some waves over the bow, so we put the first reef in which helped. As the day wore on the wind built slightly and started coming more to the north. We hardened up but were still making good way. The C&C balances nicely upwind maintaining a bit of weather helm, which you want so the boat will head up if you let go of the wheel. I don’t mind minor resistance on the wheel as it helps me get in the groove to keep boat speed up.
The weather helm also proved to be a good indicator of when to reef. In the late afternoon we found ourselves close hauled, fighting the helm more than we should, and occasionally dunking the rail. POP! One of the reefing lines we had rigged through an eye with a stopper knot had pulled out. We should have tied it with a bowline. It was time for the second reef anyway so Bob and I eased the main so it would luff, rerigged the second reef so it would not do the same thing, and cranked everything down. I had to leave the cockpit briefly to untangle and secure some of the sail and lines but for the most part the cockpit led system worked and kept deck time to a minimum. The double reef worked well as we sailed into the darkening sky. We should have listened to the helm and reefed a little sooner.
There is a saying that sailing is long periods of boredom interspersed with moments of panic. I understand the sentiment, but this was not the case onboard. As experienced sailors, even though we might have been a little rusty, we did not panic. We were prepared, tethered in for safety, and addressed any issues at hand. There was some wrestling and pulling of sails and lines, but everything remained in control. As for the boredom, being on the water sailing along, out of cell phone and internet access was a wonderful respite from the daily insanity we all seem to increasingly face. I would never call being on the water boring, to me it is rewarding.
The wind did clock more to the north and then as predicted faded. By midnight we were past Cape Ann, had all the reefs shaken out and were angling off increasingly toward Nova Scotia. As we slowed to a crawl George came up on deck. We tried the other tack, but that heading was straight toward land well south of our destination. He called it, as the seas were calm, and we were close enough to make it with the motor. We took down the sails, turned to where we were supposed to be going and motored into the morning.
On the dawn watch I was at the helm motoring along with the wheel brake on just enough, so I didn’t have to steer much. I kept watch and listened to some good music on my Air Pods. I have a large collection downloaded on my phone for times like these with no streaming available. The sky slowly began to brighten, and I could see distant clouds highlighted in the red orange glow to the east. To the west the moon was slowly sinking over America. It was a truly joyous morning as I watched the sun rise and the moon set nearly simultaneously as we gently cruised along the ocean’s surface. I was reminded that even older, slightly worn-out boats can still deliver these same special moments we all cherish on the water, especially to older, slightly worn-out sailors like me who have the privilege to operate them.
