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31
Oct

Over the Bay and Through the Canal to Albemarle Sound We Go!

We’re heading south! And a good portion of our route for the next several weeks will be via the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW). Frank has had this route in his head for years, but being me, I couldn’t have spit out a good explanation of what it was or WHERE it was until more recently. (I tend to plan in shorter time spans; we’re different that way). So if you’re a little sketchy about it, let me give you a brief orientation to set the scene.

I will borrow a few (edited) lines from the CruiseGuide for the ICW that we are using put out by Mark & Diana Doyle – a most excellent companion to our travels! The ICW is a navigable inland passage along America’s Atlantic and Gulf coastline. Officially it spans from just north of Boston to Brownsville, Texas, although when people think of the ICW mostly they think Norfolk to Miami – the 1,098 miles with the most traffic.
Part of the ICW is made of natural, God-given waterways (for example, the Chesapeake Bay is considered part of the ICW); other parts are manmade waterways that connect the natural ones. This continuous inland waterway was created primarily to improve commerce by making a more easily navigable and less treacherous route that was an alternative to having to stay in the Atlantic Ocean to get north and south.
So when transiting south (or north) by water, you basically have three choices of route:
#1- Going on the outside: This is a term that you’ll hear cruisers use with each other a lot, as in, “Are you going inside or outside?” “Outside” means you are staying out in the Atlantic Ocean and making passage down the coast. This is a rougher ride, more difficult , and not as many places to “land” meaning longer trips, some overnight passages and more weather concerns. It is certainly faster, but that’s not always what you want.
Going "Outside": Offshore down the Atlantic

Going “Outside”: Offshore down the Atlantic

#2- Taking the ICW from Norfolk, but taking what is called Route 1 – the Virginia Cut. This route is used by commercial and recreational traffic and is kept at a depth of at least 12 feet.

Going "Inside": The ICW, Route 1 - Virginia Cut

Going “Inside”: The ICW, Route 1 – Virginia Cut

#3- Taking the ICW from Norfolk, but taking Route 2 – The Dismal Swamp Canal Route.
Route 2 - The Dismal Swamp Canal

Going “Inside”: The ICW, Route 2 – The Dismal Swamp Canal – See how far inland that is? The green/red arrow is us sitting at the Dismal Swamp Visitor Center

The name “Dismal” comes from the term of the times that meant “swamp”. So “Dismal Swamp” is somewhat redundant – kind of like “Mary Marie”. This route is now used by recreational boats only because some sections are only 6 feet deep and very narrow. (Eleanor Q draws 5.5 feet.)
There is a great debate amongst boaters as to whether or not to do the Dismal Swamp Canal.  Reasons NOT to: it is shallow, it is skinny, it is slower, you can’t put your sails up and some people think it is boring. Reasons TO go: it is scenic, it is historic,  it is slower and then you can say you did it once!
We did the Dismal. And we loved it. And we’d do it again, by golly. But I’ll come back to the canal in a minute.
First we had to get from Hampton, VA to the canal. We left Hampton and took a most interesting ride past the major Naval base in Norfolk. There we saw more aircraft carriers, the USNS Comfort (hospital ship) and A SUBMARINE! You just don’t see one of those every day! I (Ems) took the boat out of the Hampton City Dock and navigated past the base, around the submarine, into the river by Portsmouth dodging tugs and ferries and all other sorts of water traffic. Some of my maneuvers were less than elegant, but I DID it and learned much along the way with the help of my personal nautical coach.
Ems at the helm through from Hampton through Portsmouth.

Ems at the helm from Hampton through Norfolk, VA.

Wonder if the people stationed here ever sing, "We All Live in a Yellow Submarine"? I wonder these things . . .

Wonder if the people stationed here ever sing, “We All Live in a Yellow Submarine”? I wonder these things . . .

USNS Comfort - teh designation means it is a non-commissioned ship owned by the navy but staffed by civilians. It is a mercy ship and firing on it would be considered a war crime. Among others, it has been deployed to NYC on 9/11, Katrina, Haiti and many others.

USNS Comfort – the designation means it is a non-commissioned ship owned by the navy but staffed by civilians. It is a mercy ship and firing on it would be considered a war crime. Among others places, it has been deployed to NYC on 9/11, Katrina, Haiti as well as various war zones.

And then, there we were at mile marker “0” in the ICW! Woo hoo! The ICW is sort of like New Jersey when you ask “what exit are you from?”. The ICW is all about the mile markers. We came to the split where you have to decide if you’re doing the Virginia Cut or the Dismal Swamp Canal. We turned right for the swamp. Shortly after the fork in the road, we anchored up in Deep Creek Basin with one other boat; however, there were a number of small fishing boats there for the day catching a multitude of speckled trout. One of the fisherman shared two of his trout with us in exchange for a Budweiser. We definitely got the better end of that deal!
Mile Marker "0"!

Mile Marker “10”! The yellow triangle indicates an ICW marker.

Frank holding our "catch" - that's all I'm sayin'.

Frank holding our “catch” – that’s all I’m sayin’. That was some GOOD eating that night!

Windsong in Deep Creek Basin with us

Windsong in Deep Creek Basin with us

We had to time our departure the next morning to catch the lock. Yes, the canal has a lock, then a drawbridge . . . then further south a drawbridge then a lock.  Going through the lock was a new experience for us. Locks connect sections of the canal that are at different levels. We had about 5 boats in the lock. The boats all go into the “pen” together, the gates close behind us, and then water is allowed into the lock. There are no pumps – it is all done by gravity. The crews on each boat (us) are handling lines . . . we have lines looped around pilings on the side of the lock, but as the water rises, you have to keep pulling your lines in to keep them taut and your boat in place so you don’t bump around the other boats. (This happens in reverse at the locks on the other end . . . the water level in that lock drops.)  Then the lock-tender changes jobs and becomes the bridge- tender. No kidding. He finishes the process with the locks, opens the gates to let the boats free from the pen, then jumps in a vehicle and drives the short distance down to the bridge to open it for the boats coming from the locks. And as we passed under the bridge, we were in the Dismal Swamp Canal!
Driving into the locks. . .

Driving into the locks. . .

The gates closing behind us.

The gates closing behind us.

A heron observing the operation and clearly ignoring the sign.

A heron observing the operation and clearly ignoring the sign.

Frank watching the lock water rise

Frank watching the lock water rise

Boats being let out of the pen

Going to the draw bridge . . .

Thanks Mr. lock tender/bridge keeper!

Thanks Mr. lock tender/bridge keeper!

Brief history: The canal opened in 1809 and was largely hand dug by slaves in most difficult conditions. Because it was so shallow, only flat boats or log rafts could be manually poled through, typically carrying shipments of logs, shingles and other wood products from the abundant cedars and junipers. The slaves became so familiar with the route that it was widely used as a slave hideaway and became an important part of the Underground Railroad. It has been the inspiration for literature, poetry and songs. The Army Corps of Engineers is responsible for the upkeep of the canal, keeping it at at least 6 feet in depth. There are times when the canal is closed due to drought conditions. Recently, cruising friends of ours were turned away from the canal due to an overabundance of duckweed – a green plant with little teeny leaves. Due to some unusual and extended wind patterns, an excessive amount of duckweed had collected close to the top of the canal. The duckweed gets sucked into your intake for the engine, the strainer gets full of it and chokes the water/air supply to the engine which then overheats and eventually stops working! They had to tow many boats out. So they turned people away from the canal for several days until they could clear the overabundance of duckweed.

Here are some typical sights in the canal –

DS Canal

Crossing the State Line

Crossing the State Line

MM 12

Here I am steering on my tiptoes so I can see if we're about to hit anything floating in the water. I will make my millions inventing platform boat shoes for women.

Here I am steering on my tiptoes so I can see if we’re about to hit any logs or stumps. I will make my millions inventing platform boat shoes for women.

Peaceful Swamp

Frank took this beautiful shot from the bow as we traveled down the canal.

Fall in the Swamp

After going through the first set of locks and heading into the Dismal Swamp Canal, we were reading up on things to see and do along the route. So, we decided that, rather than push on to Elizabeth City, we would stop at mile marker 28 at the Dismal Swamp Visitors Center which is a rest stop for boats on one side and cars on the other!! Seriously, if you’re driving down State Route 17, this is a rest stop. There is a free bulkhead to tie up to, and we decided that we would S-L-O-W  D-O-W-N and avail ourselves of the facilities. So having read up on the place, we were prepared for the protocol here, which is . . . boats raft up to one another.  We got a spot on the bulkhead and then waited for neighbors. There is room for three boats to tie directly to the bulkhead – then everyone else ties up to the boats that are already there. Then the accepted action is that you just walk across each others’ boats to get to land (always around the bow – never through the cockpit).
Meanwhile, the people in cars that stop here come over to the bulkhead to see the boats, so the raft up is, itself, a tourist attraction for motorists. We chatted with many interested and friendly people! Needing some exercise, we went across the pedestrian drawbridge to the state park and took a couple mile walk. The park has a beautiful visitor/nature center and great trails. Three deer hopped out on the trail and looked like they were going to walk right up to us!
We returned to the boat and watched the rest of the rafting activities. By sunset there were 13 boats meaning we were rafted 4 or 5 across. If you put two more boats beside those four, you’d be able to walk across the entire canal. After chatting with the other boats in our flotilla of four, we suggested a potluck dinner on Eleanor Q. We had a GREAT evening with nice people, fun conversation and lots of laughs. How cool is that? Too funny how this cruising community is like one big constant floating pot luck party. People talk to each other like they’ve known each other for years . . . no one gets funky or territorial about people stomping across their boats . . . it’s actually pretty cool. Maybe more parts of life should be like this.
This was the view from the pedestrian bridge walking to the State Park. Only a couple of boats parked with Eleanor Q at this point.

This was the view from the pedestrian bridge walking to the State Park. Only a couple of boats parked with Eleanor Q at this point.

A stroll through the state park. Watch out for bears!

A stroll through the state park. Watch out for bears!

In the park . . . a still. Really. Well, maybe a replica.

In the park . . . a still. Really. Well, maybe a replica.

Also in the park - when was the last time you saw one of these.

Also in the park – when was the last time you saw one of these?

More neighbors when we returned!

Our happy little raft up! Neighbors for the evening.

That night was a record breaker for us: the low was in the upper 30s. We had every blanket on us that we own and were very cozy. We have a propane heater that we kept on until we went to bed – not safe to keep it on all night. In the morning it was 49 degrees in the boat. Good news is that between turning the heater on and lighting the stove for our coffee, it warms up pretty quickly.

Dusk at the visitors center looking out the back of the cockpit.

Morning mist on the canal at the visitors center looking out the back of the cockpit.

A frosty morning with ice on the dock

A frosty morning with ice on the dock

And then we were off to finish our Dismal Swamp Canal trip. Considering that you have a pack of boats tied together, everyone has to discuss and coordinate a departure time. There are only four lock/bridge openings a day, so again we had to coordinate that. Our line opted for a 9:30 departure to catch the 11:00am opening as did the front line. The middle row of boats were the early birds. The rest of us were happy to let the sun warm the place up a little more before we had to go face being in the cockpit!
We made it to Elizabeth City about midafternoon and were able to secure one of the free slips at the Wharf right in town. A number of the boats from the Visitor’s Center also went to Elizabeth City, so we had a chance to get to know each other even more for the next couple of days, but more on that next post. And so begins our tour of North Carolina and it’s southern hospitality. There was nothing dismal about this portion of the trip!
23
Oct

Back Where We Started: Annapolis and the Next Leg

Well approximately 1,200 miles and 5 states later, we came back to Annapolis where this adventure began.  Before returning to Annapolis, we left Oxford and really got away from it all in the Wye River via Knapps Narrows. We discovered a new activity: bait fish rodeo!! I (Ems) was at the wheel for the last part of the trip coming into Eastern Bay when we started seeing large schools of bait fish. Frank had thought he wanted to try his hand at crabbing again the next day except that we had no chicken parts left as bait. He got the idea of trying to catch some of the bait fish to use instead. And so the fish rodeo began! I would see the school of “boiling” fish and head straight for them, cutting the engine way back as we approached them and gliding into their midst. Frank had pulled out the fishing rod and would cast right into the middle of the circle. Only problem was that our lures were too big, so the fish would briefly latch onto the lure, but then couldn’t really get it in their mouths. Even so, he managed to net one of the hangers on and get it in a bucket to keep for the next day. When one “boil” didn’t pay off, I’d look for another one and go after it. Anyone looking at our track on the GPS would truly think we were drunken sailors as we were truly circling and darting all over in our wild chase! We are usually maneuvering Eleanor Q in a very thoughtful, purposeful manner, so steering her like we were on a horse trying to herd cows was pretty funny! I’m sure we confused some nearby boats (not TOO nearby) who were trying to figure out our course . . . so be it. We had fish to wrangle, by golly! (Truly – we didn’t do that if anyone was very near, I promise.)
Knapps Narrows Bridge

Knapps Narrows Bridge

Knapps Narrows

Knapps Narrows

Anchored in the Wye River

Anchored in the Wye River

Frank doing some fishing.

Frank doing some fishing.

A blue heron in the bushes.

A blue heron in the bushes.

After a couple of nice days in the Wye, we  headed back to our old stomping ground. It was a beautiful October Saturday meaning that the bay was PACKED with boats.  We steered our familiar route right back to our old marina. Dean, owner of Stella’s Stern and Keel, had an open slip that we were able to rent for a couple of weeks, and when we pulled in it was just like we had left it . . . there was Dean in the yard ready with a hearty welcome and Buttercup, the yellow dog, with her mom/owner, Suzanne.  It was a very welcoming feeling and we were excited to be back in our old stomping ground.

Reunited, and it feels so good . . .

Reunited, and it feels so good . . .

Back at Stella's Stern & Keel

Back at Stella’s Stern & Keel

Stella's is at the end of Jones Cove in Back Creek. At the very end of the marina is a heron refuge. It is beautiful and peaceful back there!

Stella’s is at the end of Jones Cove in Back Creek. At the very end of the marina is a heron refuge. It is beautiful and peaceful back there!

We spent our time in Annapolis seeing friends, readying the boat for our trek south and visiting the boat show which gives us a chance to catch up with Mike, Liz and Robyn Gozzard, the builders of our boat. We met up with friends which included a “chick day” at the Boat Show with Cheryl! And sister Caroline met up with us at the end of the day, too! (That’s Ems sister Caroline – not like a nun or something.) Caroline brought a delightful dinner with her and then helped with a major grocery run the next day. Our very dear friends, Tom and Cathy, have a Brewer sailboat that they have been lovingly restoring over the last several years. We spent time catching up with them and seeing the fruits of their labor as they get ready to move aboard! They were our neighbors at Stella’s our first two years there and we have watched each others’ projects and preparations as we shared the cruising dreams over a beverage or meal. The offers of rides and help and errands from many was heartwarming, and we are always grateful for them!

Boat maintenance never ends!

Boat maintenance never ends!

Oh - the ever present laundry backpack appears. Guess what today is?

Oh – the ever present laundry backpack appears. Guess what today is?

Maryland Ave. laundromat is a dream, and the day we were there, it was a cruiser's party! It made laundry day fun, if that's possible!

Maryland Ave. laundromat is a dream, and the day we were there, it was a cruiser’s party! It made laundry day fun, if that’s possible!

Boat Show - an annual pilgrimage.

Boat Show – an annual pilgrimage.

Cheryl and I trolled the boat show. Caroline met up with us for a perch at the Marriott to watch the parade of boats leaving the city docks as the show breaks down - an event!

Cheryl and I trolled the boat show. Caroline met up with us for a perch at the Marriott to watch the parade of boats leaving the city docks as the show breaks down – an event!

Okay, we let Frank come, too.

Okay, we let Frank come, too.

After seeing the pictures from the previous day, I realized how badly in need of a real salon I was. Especially since we were going to my mom's birthday party! Bleached blonde no more - for a while. I will give up real salons, soon , I promise.

After seeing the pictures from the previous days, I realized how badly in need of a real salon I was. Especially since we were going to my mom’s birthday party! Bleached blonde no more – for a while. I will give up real salons soon , I promise.

We rented a car which we used to do a visit of the Mamas! First stop, a nice visit with Frank’s mom and bonus fly-by with two nephews while there! Always good to “chat with Pat”! Then we drove to attend Mama Rapking’s 90th birthday celebration. (That’s Ems’ mother – and yes, that is really my maiden name . . . ) All six children came in from all over the country to recognize this happy occasion! As I like to say, my mom is 90 going on 70.  Not that I am at all biased, but she is spunky, witty, affectionate and independent and we love being around her. Frank and I made use of her spare bedroom . . . and I asked her if we could pretend I was in college again so I could bring my laundry with me!! We loved having the gang together again for a couple of days . . .

Mama blowing out her candles with sister Frances behind her.

Mama blowing out her candles with sister Frances behind her.

Me and my mama!!

Me and my mama!!

We took off from Annapolis this past Sunday morning early to start making our way south. First stop, Solomon’s Island, MD for a quick overnighter. We ended up anchored by a boat that we met in Martha’s Vineyard this summer! After a quick chat with them as we rode the dinghy by, we agreed to meet up the following night in Deltaville, VA, the next night’s scheduled stop. We anchored up side by side in Fishing Creek and enjoyed cocktail hour in their very pretty and spacious cockpit.

Leaving Annapolis . . . again.

Leaving Annapolis . . . again.

We left Solomon's Island on a misty morning.

We left Solomon’s Island on a misty morning.

Gotta love this trawler who put up a GIANT inflatable pumkin on deck! What an easy way to find your boat at night!

Gotta love this trawler who put up a GIANT inflatable pumkin on deck! What an easy way to find your boat at night!

We spotted our first pelicans on the way to Deltaville!

We spotted our first pelicans on the way to Deltaville!

Feathered visitors as we sit in the cockpit of Pendragon.

Feathered visitors as we sit in the cockpit of Pendragon.

The minute we left Solomons and took a right on the bay, we were in new territory for Eleanor Q! And so we begin the next leg of our trip – the southeast coast of the U.S. First stop, Hampton, Virginia. Hampton is “right close” to Norfolk, thus major military area. As we were getting close we noticed several helicopters and a couple of fighter jets hovering over the area, and we figured that might be normal for the area. Then we heard a “securite” announcement (French pronunciation sounding like seh-cure-i-tay) commonly used on the VHF radio to alert boaters that a large vessel is underway. It announced that aircraft carrier # 71 was departing the area and going out to sea. It also reminded mariners that it is against the law to be any closer than 500 feet of a naval vessel, enforceable by force including deadly force. That certainly will make you think twice about doing a buzz by one of the navy fleet!  And sure enough, there was a Naval entourage leading the way with four heavily armed gunboats coming out first. Then we watched as the USS Theodore Roosevelt come out of the Navy base. It was surrounded by a few skiffs directing it out. The ship had just undergone a complete overhaul in August, and after passing all of its sea trials had returned to Norfolk. Carrier #77 was parked right behind it, the USS Hebert Walker Bush. Both are nuclear powered ships. Frank looked up their specs. He quizzed me, “What do you think their range is?” This means how long can the boat stay out without need of refueling. The answer: 20 – 25 years. That ship wouldn’t have to come back into port for 20 – 25 years. I imagine that there would be a mutiny before they tested that theory, but that’s the deal. It is a self contained small city. Pretty amazing. When you look at the deck of the thing, you wonder what it is like for the young pilot the very first time they ever have to land on its deck.

Navy gun boat

Navy gun boat

The gun boat entourage...

The gun boat entourage…

USS Theodore Roosevelt leaving port.

USS Theodore Roosevelt leaving port.

We settled into Hampton at the public pier, a very nice and well priced facility. Jake, the dockmaster, was delightful. We stayed for two nights since we’d covered a lot of ground in a few days and figured we deserved the rest. Once again, we ran into some sailors we had met before as well as new cruisers and a group of eight of us shared beverages and good conversation aboard one of their boats. The next day we visited the Virginia Air and Space Museum and saw “Gravity” in their IMax theater. A most delightful day. Hampton is a very attractive and welcoming town and we’ve enjoyed our stay here. My ONLY complaint is that if you have exactly one washer and one dryer in your marina, please do not call it a “laundry facility.” Just sayin’. Fortunately, it was not an urgent need for us right now. I am writing this at 11:30pm . . . perhaps I should run up and see if THE washer is available yet. Nah . . . (Laundry update before posting: the washer was open at 7:30 this morning. YES!)
And so, we’ve completed our first loop in the big adventure and are starting off on the next big piece: the southeast coast of the U.S. Tomorrow, we head for the Dismal Swamp. It’s not as bad as the name sounds . . . stay tuned!
11
Oct

Short Story: “Unexpected Days”

This story was originally written in July, 2013.

 

Unexpected Days

Today was an unexpected kind of day. It wasn’t a day with one of our “dreamed of” locations at the end of it. It was really supposed to be a basic travel day to get us halfway to a more exciting destination the next day.  We anticipated a perfectly fine but not so noteworthy day. You never know when the unexpected days will happen. We laughed; we cried. I’d give it a 9.7.
The day had different chapters to it.  The story line from the first part of the day was the “stages of learning” story. I am trying very hard to become a good and worthy sailor. I think (and Frank confirms this to me often) that I have come a long way. Learning to sail in mid-life is a little intimidating at times! I watch these young kids on sailboats who make it look as easy as walking. That was not the case with me, so I’m keenly aware of my progress and shortcomings, both.
Somewhere around early afternoon, I started feeling like a ten year old who still can’t quite do everything for herself and has to wait for Daddy to come take care of things for her. Those who know me can only imagine how well that plays. Today it was three separate little incidents combined that got to me: 1) Pulling up anchor in Cuttyhunk, 2) Taking my shift on the way to Vineyard Haven, and 3) Anchoring at our destination. I’ll try  to summarize the three “moments” as best I can.
Moment #1 – Pulling up anchor in Cuttyhunk.
 Picture this: Very tight, crowded anchorage/mooring field. Frank is on the bow pulling up anchor meaning I am at the wheel handling the boat. In most circumstances, no problem – I do that all the time. But this was VERY tight quarters with very shallow water behind us and lots of boats in front of us. Are my boat handling skills up to snuff for this? That’s a question in both of our minds and neither of us is sure of the answer. How did it play out? Frank got the anchor up in record time and ran to the wheel before we could find out. He’s the person in charge of our health, well-being and resources: I’d do the same thing in his shoes. But I didn’t get to find out if I could handle the situation.
Moment #2 – I’m “on the wheel” underway when I spot some potential shallow water coming up on the chart and am inclined to want to steer away from, but it is on the route that Frank has plotted for us on the GPS and it doesn’t go beyond a depth the boat can handle. I was basically thinking out loud about it. Frank (again – the person ultimately responsible for all things ending well at the end of the day) walks over, changes our course and problem solved. Problem is, I wanted to solve the problem, not have the problem solved for me. But I was unsure and a call had to be made.
Moment #3 – Anchoring outside of Vineyard Haven.
We set our anchor, then shortly after decided to move a short distance for better comfort. Again, me at the wheel, knew where we were aiming to take the boat . . . not far. Again, Frank pulled the anchor but then forgot to give me the hand signal for “We’re free . . . go ahead”  . . . and then came rushing to the wheel when I (the boat) wasn’t moving. What I didn’t know was all the other things he had going through his mind at the moment:  the anchor swinging off of the front, was the new location a good choice, etc.  He was well intended and just reacting to the situation. No harm. But still, it was the third awkward situation of the day,  and after getting anchored and settled, I snuck down below and had a good cry for a few minutes. I felt like a child who couldn’t do anything on my own yet. I wanted to do it! And I wanted to know exactly HOW to do it. Frank couldn’t be a better teacher and coach if he tried. He has been exceptional at boosting my confidence and at helping me progress. But this day was going to happen at some point. It is the cross roads of me having some skills but both of us trying to determine exactly where I am on that learning curve. I truly do feel like a little girl sometimes who wants to stomp her feet and say, “I WANNA DO IT!” But do I really know how yet? After I collected myself and came back up top, we had a really great discussion about the whole situation – how much I’ve learned, but also that Frank has his hands full with being captain, cheerleader, coach, and also being in some new situations that he isn’t completely certain of himself . . . a tall order to juggle all of that. We learned a lot about how we need to move into the “next stages of learning.”
Next chapter of the day: A very hot afternoon in Vineyard Haven. We went ashore, it was hot, we walked around for an hour, bought a few groceries, had ice cream and came back. End of chapter.
The most wonderful and unexpected part of the day:  4pm – 10:pm. That is probably the most relaxed 6 hours we’ve had on the boat since we started. It was hot everywhere else, but the most comfortable spot was out in the anchorage with a slight breeze blowing in over the water. I think that is the most still and content we’ve been in a long time. The first part of the afternoon was us being absorbed in our own worlds doing research about our upcoming stops or reading. Then it was grilling T-bone steaks and having dinner up top. Understand –  cockpit time (while not underway) is precious. Really good cockpit time requires a certain temperature range, bug infestation range and humidity range to be comfortable, and we haven’t had a lot of really good cockpit days. There was lots to watch up there . . . ferries coming and going about every half hour, schooners, magnificent yachts cruising into the area, small boats zipping all around, sailboats with families . . . you name it. It was so cool just being observers of all the outer harbor activity. There was one very large sailing vessel that ended up anchored not far from us. We had seen it in the harbor earlier and discovered that it hosted youth camps. It was clear that was the case on this day. At anchor in the late afternoon, young knucklehead boys (a term of endearment here) were jumping off and swimming around the boat. They were having the time of their lives. Later it got quieter and you could tell they were into dinner preparations. When I tell you the vessel looked like an old fashioned pirate ship, I’m not kidding. Then at sunset, they set off a very loud canon. Young boys at a camp with explosives involved . . they had to be in heaven! (Note to self: we have GOT to remember that, in these parts, the canon at sunset is a big tradition, so be ready!) And then there was the red sky of sunset . . . and then the bright half moon in the sky and a couple of planets making appearances… and then constellations starting to join the party. Later we heard some unified chanting in the distance. Mind you, we couldn’t catch any of this very clearly – it was just floating in and out with the breeze – but it sounded like the “pirate ship” was having some type of group gathering. If you could have a campfire on a boat, they would have been sitting around it. How cool for those boys? As it got very dark, I was looking for their anchor light to come on. I saw a couple of distant flickering glows. Frank explained that boats from the “olden days” would put lanterns in the rigging – and sure enough, you could tell that’s what they had . . . lanterns serving as their anchor lights. It was an actual flame flickering in the night. The sounds from the boat got quieter and quieter. Frank speculated that, as in older boats of that kind, the “quarters” were made up of hammocks hanging down below which is quite a smart way of not rocking so much while sleeping.  We pictured rows of hammocks with the boys lined up in them drifting off in stages after whispering among themselves, or falling fast asleep from being that really good tired from a full day of sun, swimming and activity. Somehow, that sight of the lanterns in the rigging and the feeling of campers settling in their bunks put us in a “stories around the campfire” kind of mood ourselves. And I have to confess – that isn’t necessarily something that happens with us very often. We’re reading or writing or fixing something or playing cards, but not as often just sitting and talking about . . . whatever. It led to topics like “Did you ever go to camp when you were little?”  . . .  to how much we miss our fathers and the difference in the pain of losing a parent after 19 years vs. after 50 years  . . . to who knows what else. All of this was done without any music playing in the background. For us, that’s unheard of – we ALWAYS have music on in the background. It was a day that just didn’t need it because it had enough of its own soundtrack. It wasn’t until about 9:00 that we turned on a playlist full of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, James Taylor, Neil Young . . . perfect for the mood and the moment. And so it wasn’t until 10:00pm – late for us (well, for sure for Frank) that we went down below. We just watched life go by and stayed cool and reminisced and observed and dreamed for 6 hours straight in the cockpit of our floating home.
And so we finished what we expected to be a “nothing too significant” kind of day. We had worked through a mid-learning (mid-life) mini meltdown early in the day. We had made our way to new and uncharted territories.  And then we sat still and quiet long enough to truly soak up a summer night in all its glory.  The day was a microcosm of “stuff.” And it wasn’t supposed to be any kind of special day when we started it. Sometimes exceptional days are exceptional for the most surprising reasons . . . and when you least expect them.
Pirate Ship

 

 

4
Oct

Back Home on the Chesapeake Bay

“Back home” is such an interesting term for us at this point. Where is home? When people ask us “Where are you from,” we stumble and stutter . . . it’s not a simple answer. Is home where we grew up? Frank called New Jersey home for the first 47 years of his life. There is a part of him that will always call that home. I grew up in WV but have moved around a good bit since then. I spent 15 years living in NJ, but that was a different time and life. Although we have moved our stuff into a little place in New Jersey and have lots of family there, that doesn’t exactly feel like our home . . . we’ve barely slept there 20 nights total. Harrisburg, PA was most recently our home, but we don’t live or work there any more. So right now, home is on the boat. And the place where Eleanor Q called home for the last four years is the Chesapeake Bay . . . and her hailing port is Annapolis,  so that feels as much like home to us as anywhere right now. I guess that explains why we feel a little like we’re coming home this week.
Home is where the boat is . . .

Home is where the boat is . . .

Frank happy to be with his three children: Frank, Andrea and Nicole.

And, home is where the heart is. Frank happy to be with his three children: Frank, Andrea and Nicole.

After a wonderful visit in NJ with family (who we miss very much) and friends, and two weeks of a big, comfy bed and long hot showers, it was time to hit the road again (so to speak).  We set out on a beautiful day with the goal of getting to the bay as quickly as possible. We didn’t leave Longport, NJ until September 24th and wanted to make it to the Seven Seas Cruising Association Gam south of Annapolis by Thursday the 26th so we really needed to make tracks! We had a very nice sail down the NJ coast and anchored up in Cape May overnight. Unlike our big tour of Cape May in June, we never even touched land in Cape May this time –  just anchored overnight and left early the next morning to catch the perfect combination of the tide going up the Delaware Bay and then the current in the C&D Canal. It timed out just perfectly! It was quite a long day, but we got 80 miles under our belts and settled in Still Pond in Maryland for the night. Both of us had the same reaction to being there: our shoulders felt a little bit lighter and everything suddenly seemed more relaxed and peaceful. The bay generally has that effect on us.
Goodbye Longport and Seaview Harbor Marina!

Goodbye Longport and Seaview Harbor Marina!

A beautiful sail down the NJ coastline.

A beautiful sail down the NJ coastline – the “skylights” are a new addition which allow us to keep our canvas up and see the sails – a BIG improvement in comfort underway.

Anchored up in Cape May with many other boats heading south.

Anchored up in Cape May with many other boats heading south.

Ems behind the wheel at 8am with an unexpected 18 knots of wind. Clearly looking in need of more of the coffee sitting next to her!

Ems behind the wheel at 8am with an unexpected 18 knots of wind. Clearly looking in need of more of the coffee sitting next to her!

Going through the C&D canal was, once again, a non-event . . . although we had lots more company than in June, but only small boats like ourselves. No tankers!

Going through the C&D canal was, once again, a non-event . . . although we had lots more company than in June, but only small boats like ourselves. No tankers!

Frank teaches Ems the term "sun dog." It's a mini- rainbow kind of thing. See to the right of the sun . . . that's a sun dog. Try to find something prettier - I double sun dog dare you!

Frank teaches Ems the term “sun dog.” It’s a mini- rainbow kind of thing. See to the right of the sun . . . that’s a sun dog. Try to find something prettier – I double sun dog dare you!

Red at night was certainly our delight!

Red at night was certainly our delight in Still Pond.

The next day we hoofed it right on down to the Rhode River, another long but wonderful day.  It was very exciting when we caught our first sight of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge again for the first time in several months!

Looking at the Bay Bridge again! A familiar sight.

Looking at the Bay Bridge again! A familiar sight.

We love this view of the bridge!

We love this view of the bridge!

Frank has found that, while I'm at the helm and conditions are calm, he likes to do boat chores. There were OH so many things I could have done to him at this moment, but I resisted the urge . . .

Frank has found that, while I’m at the helm and conditions are calm, he likes to do boat chores. There were OH so many things I could have done to him at this moment, but I resisted the urge . . .

We anchored up with nearly 80 other boats to attend the gam. It was fun to reunite with friends that we made from last years’ gam and great to make some new friends as well! I was even reunited with my former neighbor, Kate, from Hellertown, PA from more than 10 years ago! She has married a sailor as I did and they are talking about cruising to the Bahamas! She and I laughed: if anyone had told either one of us what we’d be doing in 2013, we wouldn’t have believed it! Life has funny twists and turns. Why I didn’t get a picture with her is beyond me. If only I was traveling with someone who could operate a camera . . .
We attended seminars given by seasoned cruisers on a whole host of topics. We are now more well versed on going to the Exumas in the Bahamas and traversing the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW)on our way through the southern US coast. I met a remarkable woman at the gam last year who I got to visit with again this year: Margaret Roth. Margaret is a tiny little woman in her 90s who comes up to about my chin. She and her husband lived together on their boat cruising the world for more than 30 years! Her husband authored a number of books on sailing and I bought one and asked her to inscribe it for me. During a panel discussion, a group of accomplished woman sailors (including Margaret) was asked, “What is the worst thing that happened to you on board?” Mostly the answers were, “You know, nothing really bad has happened.” There was a health scare or a particularly bad storm mentioned. Margaret took the mic and chimed in with her very scratchy voice, and in a non-plussed, matter of fact,  British manner answered, “Well, there was the time we were shipwrecked off of Cape Horn . . . ” It was priceless. Why I didn’t get a picture with her I’ll never know. If only I could get my hands on a photographer . . .
The opening night dinghy raft up at the SSCA Gam

The opening night dinghy raft up at the SSCA Gam. I borrowed the picture from Michele who borrowed it from a friend . . .

Gam Friends from left to right: We met Anthony and Annette from Magnolia last year. They are in their first two weeks of cruising! They introduced us to Al and Michele on Kindred Spirit (which they are) and last year A&A introduced us to Dudley and Cheryl who came with us on a test drive of our Gozzard since they are in the market. Cheryl is my #1 blog supporter! (after my sister)

Gam Friends from left to right: We met Anthony and Annette from Magnolia last year. They are in their first two weeks of cruising! We have enjoyed getting to know them very much. They introduced us to Al and Michele on Kindred Spirit (which they are) and last year A&A introduced us to Dudley and Cheryl who came with us on a test drive of our Gozzard since they are in the market. Cheryl is my #1 blog supporter! (after my sister) What a truly wonderful group of compadres.

Then we headed to one of our favorite places on earth: Oxford, MD. We love it so much we got married there aboard Eleanor Q  more than two years ago. We came around the corner happy to find “our spot” in the anchorage unoccupied and spent a great few days at anchor. We were thrilled to find our new friends on Kindred Spirit from the gam anchored just across from us! Then another boat from the gam showed up and a mini-gam was born! We had “date night” our first night there – we always like to go back to the restaurant at the Robert Morris Inn where we had our after wedding dinner! It is a splurge when we are in Oxford, but one we can never resist. So you might think, “Why do you need date night when you’re sailing around alone together every day? Isn’t every day date night?” Well, here’s the criteria for it to be considered a date night:  a)we both shower, b)Frank puts something on other than his dirty relaxed cut jeans that make him look like Farmer Jim, c)we don’t do our cheap cruiser calculating when we order our food and actually get a bottle of wine with dinner, d)I actually wear my hair down and attempt to make it look like something. If I’m feeling real sumthin’ sumthin’, I put on some mascara and a little lip gloss just to be sassy, d) we have an actual conversation over our meal and it takes us more than 7 minutes to eat it. And THAT, my friends, is date night! I manage to coerce Frank into one every couple of months.
A cleaned up Ems . . . nice to feel a little girly from time to time. Almost forgot how!

A cleaned up Ems . . . nice to feel a little girly from time to time. Almost forgot how!

Awwww . . . isn't he handsome?

Awwww . . . isn’t he handsome?

Tuesday we went crabbing. Our friends from Kindred Spirit took shots of the action. We take about 10 floats (water bottles and mixed nut jars), wrap twine around them for a line, put a weighted hook on the end to hold the raw chicken, and zip around in the dinghy dropping our “buoys” about 30 feet apart. Let those puppies soak for a few minutes and then it’s time to start checking the lines. The net and bucket are at the ready for our catches, and after about 3.5 hours we had 15 LARGE crabs ready to serve up for dinner to our boat neighbors! Frank is the finest crab steamer around . . . a big pot with water, beer and old bay. Yum. He is also a good coach on the most expedient way to clean a crab – Granny taught him! (who was THE Eleanor Q, by the way.)
Crabbing in the anchorage in Oxford.

Crabbing in the anchorage in Oxford.

Here we are casting our crab line apparatus. Very high tech!

Here we are casting our crab line apparatus. Very high tech!

Crab Fest! Michele's photos . . .

Crab Fest! Michele’s photos . . . and tomatoes and quinoa salad, for that matter! Rob and Karen brought an outstanding tuna dip. Cruisers are experts at the pot luck dinner.

The next day we took advantage of the bike rentals and had a little picnic lunch at the park beside the Methodist Church in town looking out over the water. By the way, thank you to the United Methodist Church of Oxford for the beautiful chimes that play every day at noon and 6:00pm. I’ll hum along and Frank will say, “Do you know that one?” And I’ll say, “It’s a Methodist Church . . . I’ll know ANYTHING they play!” There was a funny moment during our bike ride . . . it’s not going to SOUND funny, but it really was, so hear it the right way. We rode around the Oxford cemetery which overlooks the anchorage where EQ was parked. Neither one of us has any intention of being buried in an actual plot (not that we discuss it much, mind you, other than Frank saying “Put my ashes in a coffee can and throw me in the dumpster.”) We toured the whole place admiring how well kept it was and looking at the view. As we pedaled down the long road out, Frank looked at me and said, “You know, I don’t want to be buried in a cemetery, but if I did, this wouldn’t be a bad one to be in.” I laughed out loud and said, “I was thinking the EXACT same thing!” Great minds . . . I know, that’s weird humor.
Picnic at the park . . .

Picnic at the park . . .

Frank looking over at Eleanor Q in the anchorage

Frank looking over at Eleanor Q in the anchorage

As much as we love Oxford, Frank had a major setback there, however. . . the Highland Creamery (home of the finest ice cream) was closed for mid-week. He is still under treatment for depression from the incident. He had to make do with other ice cream options – and he did. Actually, on Monday we thought the Creamery was going to be open and planned to hit it on our way back to the boat . . . we had walked to the little market in town and while I was grocery shopping, Frank went to the ice cream counter inside the store and got a cone. Here’s the conversation that followed:

Ems -“Didn’t you just go online and see that the Creamery is open today?”
Frank – “Yes.”
Ems – “So when were you thinking we were going there? It’s not open tomorrow.”
Frank (with half eaten ice cream cone in hand) – “When we leave here. DUH!”
Yeah, I know . . . what was I thinking? Who wouldn’t have ice cream with an ice cream chaser? Especially if you’re Frank Quigley. Duh indeed. Unfortunately, the website lied and the creamery was closed until the end of the week. He’s nearly over it now, but it was a rough go.
This was actually the following day - Frank now brings his own spoon and goes to the freezer section of a store when there are no ice cream stores around - a technique he learned from a fellow cruiser.

This was actually the following day – Frank now brings his own spoon and goes to the freezer section of a store when there are no ice cream stores around – a technique he learned from a fellow cruiser.

Downtown Oxford

Downtown Oxford

By the way - for those who saw June's picture of Frank's "catch" - this would be the scene of the crime, otherwise known as where he "caught" the striper. Just sayin' . . .

By the way – for those who saw June’s picture of Frank’s “catch” – this would be the scene of the crime, otherwise known as where he “caught” the striper. Just sayin’ . . .

Another nice evening with boat neighbors, a good nights’ sleep and we were underway to our next Bay destination. Until next spring, Oxford! It’s good to be home on the bay.