Many years ago, after a passage up the coast from Norfolk, Virginia, I approached New York Harbor in a real pea-soup fog. As I neared the Verrazano Narrows Bridge, fog horns and the low-pitched throbbing of ship engines seemed to come at me from all sides. I looked off to port as a Plimsoll mark passed by, maybe 50 feet away. I couldn't see the ship it was attached to, just a slight darkening of the fog bank.

Understanding paper charts is an important skill.

Since the amazing leap forward in electronic technology during the past several decades, many boaters have shelved their paper charts. And with good reason too.

After spending three days bunkered down during a strong northerly front in the Bahamas, we decided if we didn't leave, the weather would only deteriorate. Hours after making this stupid decision we were punching the Grand Banks 42 through large swells churned up by a week of fierce north winds. With roaring winds of 30 knots and higher, my crew Jack Bulger and I exchanged glances, both realizing we were in for a long disagreeable night.