Once again, I've taken off for Maine -- Quixotically enough, since it takes forever to get there, and I have a million indispensable things to do this summer.
Well, maybe they're not quite indispensable; but I'll be severely criticized if I don't do them.
Still, bloody-minded and self-indulgent as I am, I'm on my way. How many more times, at my age, will I have this opportunity? Not many.
I got a little portable 3G/4G mobile hotspot from my ISP, and it actually sorta-kinda works -- I'm writing this update by lamplight, on anchor in Manhasset Bay.
Took off from 79th Street at 3 PM or so, motored down the Hudson against the wind but with the current; timed it just right and caught the turn of the current at the Battery at 5 pm, and eased up the East River and through Hell Gate on a following wind. Didn't even bother to raise the mainsail -- anything for a quiet life. Used the old creaky self-furler to open up the oversized genoa, which I'm using these days for reasons that require another post.
Much to reflect upon: the anxious knot in one's gut before one sets out on a mad adventure like this -- now gone, of course, twelve hours after its worst. The mental weather got better as soon as Scapegrace and I left the mooring.
Oh, and why no picture? Because the 4G/3G guys charge me by the bit. There'll be pictures as soon as we tie up somewhere and can use somebody else's network.