Fast forward two days later as we make our trip home. We round Windmill Point and enter the Broad Creek channel to an unexpected sight. The glare on the horizon at first appeared to be the white sand of a Caribbean beach. As we got closer, it quickly became apparent that Broad Creek had iced over.
Barry throttled down and slowly came upon the ice. We had our headsets on and were going over Plans A, B, and C. With few other options we decided to become an icebreaker and clear our own path. I was on the bow looking down as Barry eased Crossroads' nose into the ice sheet that had grown to three inches thick. The ice gave way and we continued very slowly. The noise of ice meeting the hull and the straining diesel was like nothing I had ever heard before -- and hope to never hear again. We passed Red 6A, now fully surrounded by ice.
The next big challenge was the 90-degree turn to port to enter the marina. Barry brought her around slow and easy. As we straightened back out, we began to breathe a bit easier and believe that we actually make it back into the slip. As we worked our way further back into the marina, the ice was not as thick and I ventured off the bow to see what our wake looked like.
One final turn to starboard and then Barry backed us into the slip. I tied us up, very thankful for a safe passage and praying for warmer weather to come... very soon.