Parts and Friends in Oriental: how to weather the storm

Claude is fixing his "muffler" himself with a combination of rope, goop, nuts and bolts. He tried to get a new part, but unfortunately it seems no one makes that part the correct size for his boat any more. As you can see from the photo above, he is proud of his workmanship. The part is installed now, the boat is running, but we are not moving. Tropical Storm Noel has threatened to spank us, and we are tucking in and staying in Oriental until the the big blow that is coming will pass. We are very happy at the town dock in our little 'pod' of boats. The nice folks sitting with us in the other picture are Carolyn and Bill from the Worthless Wench. We had a little happy hour on the dock, all you can eat shrimp dinner at a local restaurant and then a musical party with guitars, harmonica and accordion. It was such a lovely evening! Other notable events include a Francis-Edgell tennis match in which Edgell took Francis all the way to 7-5 only to have Francis win the set. This incredible feat was repeated the very next day. Someday I will win fair and square, just like the occasional game of pool. Anyway, this little town is so cute, so well maintained, so clean, so amenable to boaters, we are certainly falling in love with it and we are extremely glad to be able to wait out the storm here.

Oriental Webcam

For all of those who pick up on us the next day or so, the following link will take you to the Oriental, NC harbor webcam. We are the boat at the end of the dock. You can see our blue sailcover, and the bow. Claude is on Merope on the right hand side of the dock, and new friends Carolyn and Bill on the "Worthless Wench" on the other side. Beautiful, sunny and clear for now, but as Noel makes it's way around we may be looking at some nastier weather later in the week. Oriental is a sweet little town, very boater friendly. We even found a tennis court, so we'll be taking some more pictures this afternoon on the way to play. Here's the webcam link:

http://www.towndock.net/harborcam50.shtml

Bienvenu Claude! We create a team.

Meet Claude, our new travel-mate in the photo above with Wayne at the M & M's cafe in Oriental, North Carolina.
The sail from Belhaven to Oriental, North Carolina was made much better by the addition of our new team member, Claude! Claude is from Quebec and he is single-handing his 29-foot sailboat Merope all the way to the Bahamas as well. We travel about the same speed under sail and under power, and having anchored near eachother in Belhaven started to chat about teaming up. Claude is a fantastically smart and talented person in addition to being a mighty sailor and Harbormaster at his yacht club back home in Canada. He is a diesel engine expert among other things, which makes us feel incredibly safe. He is teaching us to actually use the GPS as it was designed to be used. He is a charming French-Canadien gentleman with whom I can even practice my French! We are so lucky to have teamed up with him, and hope to make the whole voyage together. The teamwork element was very important yesterday, as we sailed from Belhaven to Oriental in a huge, following wind. We crossed 2 of the "4 most dangerous passages on the ICW" - according to our chart book. The first was the Pamlico River/sound. The wind was about 15 to 20 knots on our tail, and the waves short and choppy. We had the main out and were flying along around 7 knots motor sailing. Surviving the Pamlico, the waterway narrowed down into the entrance of a 4-mile long canal and we had to maneuver upwind to drop the main. Claude, of course, had to leave the helm during this as he was all by himself. I was at our helm, and Wayne up front taking the sail down. Well, of course I did not quite realize that no one was at Claude's helm and nearly ran into him! The only casualty was my head as the boom swung a bit quicker than anticipated. We got the sails down without any great difficulty, and enjoyed a nice quiet motor down the canal. I was able to give the captain a break at that point, as the sail down the Pamlico had been athletic to say the least - especially after the fun Halloween we had. Exiting the canal, we entered the Neuse River and 14 miles of rolling, short choppy waves from 2 to 4 feet or so, a howling wind and screaming downriver with the Genoa out. Poor Claude had engine problems ( go figure, he's the mechanic) and so we cut our engine too and made great time without it. Regrettably, the changeover from mainsail to Genoa and subsequent rolling of the boat, the bang on the head, and the general poor condition from the night before all conspired together to completely incapacitate the first mate who is prone to motion sickness. Oh yeah. I was over the rail the whole time, nothing left to even spew out but heaving anyway. From time to time Wayne would need help and I would verify position with GPS and charts, look for a buoy, or take the helm briefly. Mostly, however, I was completely limp and useless. Several hours later we made it to Oriental harbor and were blissfully accomodated by the Oriental Marina. We will post some pictures of our host and hostess Thomas McIlhenny, Daisy Taylor and dockmaster Bub. Joe and Laura and the rest of the crew are as friendly as can be, and extremely helpful. Taking a hot shower last night in the beautifully clean facility - complete with fresh towels, shampoo, soap and hand creme - I thought I had died and gone to heaven. That was until we went to the M & M's cafe and had a fabulous dinner. Life is good again! We regret having missed most of the World Series but Go Sox! and Go Blue who also won this weekend. We will be happy as 2 little clams watching the Packer game tonight on the Toucan Grill's big-screen TV and knowing we have a wonderful new friend and an easy day to Beaufort tomorrow.

River Forest Manor Halloween: :Putting the Bel back in Belhaven

After a VERY wet night and day on anchor in Pungo Creek, we motored back to Belhaven to enjoy the hospitality of River Forest Manor and Marina and their Halloween Party. Discarding the notion of both dressing up as streetwalkers (this is the South, after all), we settled on our version of Captain Jack Sparrow and his pirate wench. The proof is as documented for you on the preceding photos. The River Forest Marina is around 100+ years old, circa great lumber and transportation barons, and was built by a very wealthy North Carolinian for his family. The original crystal chandeliers and sculpted ceilings remain in beautiful condition and the house now serves as elegant reminder of a by-gone era of southern grandeur. Our hostess for the evening, Ms. Charlotte Furstenberg, is the lovely vampirella in black. She made sure the party got going. Wayne was making new friends right and left, and we were having a lovely time. Just as we were about to leave, Charlotte announced we had won the costume contest (being the only couple there in costume aside from the employees) when entitiled us to our entrance fee back and 2 free drinks. We really could not take full advantage of our good luck, as had a big sail scheduled for early the next morning. Still, we managed to hang around to enjoy a wee bit more of the outstanding southern hospitality there is to be found in the classy River Forest Manor.

Not so belle Belhaven

We left our gloomy anchorage (first picture) yesterday, preparing to go down a 22-mile ditch in the swamp (second picture). it was Eeyore all the way. Our cruising guide had suggested that Belhaven is lovely and popular stopover. The third picture is the main industry here in Belhaven, the fertilizer factory. With the wrong wind-direction, it is quite fragrant. The town itself is seen in the fourth picture. The very cultured lady at the local gourmet wine and cheese store told us in her lovely British tones, "we are a two-stoplight town you know....." The fifth picture documents the BEST thing about Belhaven: a marvelous public library with computer access, wi-fi, a lovely remodeled interior and a screened-in porch with rockers for reading the paper, etc. To it's credit there are a block or two of lovely, stately homes in the southern tradition at the very far end of town, but most of the town is either dying or dead. The anchorage itself afforded little protection in the hellacious south wind that blew last night, but today the weather has settled down and we were able to walk the mile to the Food Lion and reprovision successfully. On the way there I saw a new sight: a cotton-field in bloom. We had to walk over and pick a wee bit...We are truly in the real South now. The library even carries the most recent edition of "Conservative Citizen" in the periodical section. Needless to say, we did not have a look at it. There are quite a number of boats anchored here, as it is a well-used stopover for pilgrims on the trail. That is really what it feels like. It is unthinkable, the number of boats that are heading south along the intercoastal as we are. We see folks we have seen before at any number of different ports. We also get passed by just about every other boat as we are very nearly the slowest "on the trail" at all times. That is, except under sail. Yesterday we spent a glorious half-hour under sail without the droning of the diesel, and during that time we flew! Being the slowest has certain advantages: for example, there is always someone ahead of you to let you know where to go. We met up with another fellow slow-poke today, a gentleman from Quebec named Claude. We intend to meet up this evening to discuss kind of teaming up. He is sailing all by himself, and although experienced with the ICW is not anxious to truly go it alone. We travel about the same speed and prima facie appear to have the same basic cruising philosophy (called gunk-holing) so it all appears to be a good fit. We'll be taking the next couple of days to get to the Beaufort area and then hope to grab a slip at a marina to ride out some inclement weather that has been predicted. Wayne has heard that the ICW below Beaufort is quite different, "Prince of Tides"-type scenery. That would be a welcome change from the interesting but seemingly endless and buggy swamp. Those of you in the UP will smirk to know that while we are having warm, humid weather, we are also still getting bit by mosquitos.

Norfolk, VA to Coinjock, NC: Toto, we are not in Kansas any more

Entering Norfolk harbor is absolutely nuts. There are enormous battleships, container ships, tugs, sailboats, power boats, yikes you name it. Then, there is the question of where are we going anyhow? Basically, left (port if coming from the Chesapeake and heading toward the ICW). You get in to what we now know is the largest natural harbor in the world, and all you see are destroyers, aircraft carriers, e-bloody-normous boats of all types. After you pass through a militarized marvel for about 20 minutes you get to the container shipyards (Norfolk International) and it's cranes the size of the Empire State Building and still you have not gotten to the place yet. That place, mile marker zero or Red 36, featured in a previous entry, was our home for a few days. Norfolk was big and glossy. Portsmouth aging gracefully. But then, jumping off into the ICW requires a trip down the Elizabeth River passing more enormous ships (see photo three), lift bridges, swing bridges, and one completely inconsequential lock until you arrive at Great Bridge, VA. There are a number of bridges surrounding Great Bridge and one associated lock. We entered the lock along with our cohort of boats, and slung long dock lines around the bollards. We knew the lock would lift or lower us no more than 5 feet. This is child's play. Wayne settled in to read for a while and I decided this was the moment to re-do my toenails. Some time later, the lock operator sauntered out and mentioned to the nearest other boat, "girls...they are always doing their toenails." I looked up, and shortly afterward the southbound lock gate was opening. I said, "Hey Wayne! They are opening!" He was as astonished as I was that the whole procedure had taken place while we were not looking. OK, after the Erie Canal's Waterford Flight of Five with locks of 40+ feet, this was nothing. Ask my daughter Sarah. She'll tell you. It was WORK going through the Flight of Five. I was filing my toenails and we were locking through without even knowing. Everything in perspective. OK, so it was cool tying up in Great Bridge. All the free tie-ups on the west wall were taken, so we actually tied up to some trees on the east wall. You can buy anything you could possibly want in Great Bridge, it is so commercial. We did find an awesome sports bar where we watched the Red Sox on one screen and Michigan ( Go Blue!) beat Illinois on another screen. I even beat Wayne in a game of pool fair and square that night. These things must be recorded for posterity and a legitimate record. So, Great Bridge is a fun stop where you can tie up for free, but then it is out into the ditch. Soon afterward, you arrive in the thick of the swamp, where the fourth misty pictures of boats navigating the perils of a lift bridge in the cool morning air is taken. That was this morning as we were headed to Coinjock, NC. Yes, the 1st picture is Wayne at the helm in the swamp. We were unable to take the Dismal Swamp route due to lack of water, so we took the "Virginia Cut' instead. Sufficiently swampy for anyone's taste. We crossed the Curritick Sound at the end of the day to arrive here at one of 2 marinas that comprise the entire town situated on the east and west sides of this tiny canal and were amazed to tap into fast and furious wireless. Will wonders never cease? Tomorrow we will cross the Abermarle Sound heading toward Belhaven, NC and the true confederacy. Stay tuned...more adventures are sure to occur on this most unusual of highways.

Mobjack to Norfolk, beyond our expectations

The sail from The Great Wicomico brought us once more out into the wide, lower portion of the Chesapeake Bay. It is SO unlike the upper portion which is narrow enough to see across at most times. The lower portion is much more like one of our Great Lakes, and we were able to not only actually SAIL some without the motor, we were able to use the autohelm. The tremendous advantage to this is that you can keep reading while sailing! Of course someone has to keep a lookout for other boats, buouys, and the ever-present possibility of running aground. Compared to our more eventful sails in the upper bay, this was a piece of cake. We selected Mobjack Bay so as not to have too long a day sailing to Norfolk, and selected an anchorage up the East River quite randomly. It was not so extraordinary when we dropped the hook - still a little rough and no particular "destination" but we were done sailing for the day and it was time to stop. Little did we realize what a majical place it would turn into! Sunset was spectacular as the picture above will readily show. We enjoyed our quiet dinner with the most dramatic backdrop of orange, red, and golden splendor. The next morning we arose to a mist-laden scene with cloud-like layers swirling about the trees and houses and mirror-still water reflecting the entire scene back at us. WOW! It was about the most beautiful morning "exit" we had experienced in all of our Chesapeake sailing days. That was until our enchanted fairy-tale like journey down the glassy, mist-laden East River was eclipsed by the school of dolphins that came to visit as soon as we entered Mobjack Bay proper. The boat slid into the bay just as the dolphins were jumping and playing at the mouth of the East River. They came over to see us and swam with us for just a little while. We tried to capture them, but digital cameras don't seem to have the type of instantaneous shutter action that "regular" ones do, so what we managed to capture was the scene above where a few fins might be visible given a good imagination and faith. Believe us, sailing with a friendly school of dolphins was the highlight of the day/week/month and a great omen for the rest of the trip. When we finally got over our excitement about our dolphin escort, we got about the task of sailing to Norfolk. Holy wah. Norfolk is the largest naval facility in the world, and it sure looks like it. As you enter the harbor, you can see aircraft carriers, battleships, cruisers, destroyers, and even a huge hospital ship. It just goes on like this until you reach the "Norfolk International Terminal" which has several great piers servicing enormous container ships. The cranes and machinery surrounding the piers are frightening in their size and reach. This goes on for a while more, and you realize you have been in the harbor for more than a half hour and still not "there". "There" is mile zero of the IntraCoastal Waterway or ICW. "There" is known also as "Red 36" or "Hospital Point". After nearly an hour of crawling up the harbor at 6mph (walking speed) we finally arrived at the famous Hospital Point anchorage where the boat is now. Norfolk is home also to the Naval History Museum, and the battleship Wisconsin, both of which deserve to be toured. Norfolk is sleek, urban, and upscale. The waterfront has been overtaken with fancy hotels and condo developments, and within a short walk there is a monsterous mall, anchored by Nordstroms. No, we have not been there yet. In fact, we are now in Portsmouth, Virginina which is just across the Elizabeth River from Norfolk. Portsmouth has a much more accessible and charming Olde Towne district, but is much more blue collar and heterogeneous. We are amassing as much information as possible prior to taking off from "mile zero" including the hurricane predictions from the NOAA and the updated charts from the Tidewater Marina. Both Norfolk and Portsmouth have public libraries within easy walking distance, but the Norfolk library is observably more affluent. The charming little restaurants in Portsmouth have a greater interest for us, as well as the friendly folks at the Tidewater Marina. For $12 we were able to use their dinghy dock, their laundry room, their internet, take showers (a real luxury after lots of days at anchor) and come and go as we please. The gal in their store was so friendly and helpful, we barely could believe it! So we will remain for a few days in this historic place where the great battle of the "Ironclads" took place during the Civil War. We are in Confederate territory now, having passed the demarcation line about mid-harbor. Imagine that - a couple of Yoopers entering the real South. So far, so good. The real test will be the 4 lift-bridges and Deep Creek Lock which we must navigate in order to complete the next phase, "The Dismal Swamp".

Solmons to Sandy Point, Tiki and BK

Our last couple of days in Solomons could not have been nicer! We played a few more nice games of tennis at the Holiday Inn courts, and took long walks. One of these lead us to the AnneMarie Sculpture Garden. This gorgeous, public garden is the gift of a local gentleman in honor of his daughter and features outstanding sculptures by well-known artists on loan (?) from the Hirschorn Museum of the Smithsonian Institution. It is really a gem, set in the woods on a little-travelled rural road near the bottom of the Chesapeake Bay. We must have spent at least an hour wandering among the gardens and sculpture. Heavenly! Less than heavenly but also quite fun was our chance meeting of a mighty sailor named BK at some sports bar for Sunday afternoon football. Miraculously, both our teams won in the 4th quarter (The Pack and Da Bears). We decided to continue our celebration at the "world famous" Solomons Tiki Bar - and that is us in the first picture. We shared sailing stories and light beer and passed a delightful evening. The next day we left for our 3-day trip to Norfolk. The first day we sailed to the Great Wicomico River and anchored in a lovely anchorage right behind Sandy Point. The schooner that you see in the picture must have been returning from the Great Schooner Race. Sandy Point is a popular anchorage with good reason - it was very lovely, easy to get to, and carried at least 14 feet of water almost all the way to the shore. Arriving at Sandy Point we noticed an incredible rainbow-like effect streaming out of the clouds. We decided that was an excellent omen and spent an extremely pleasant night. The next day - Mobjack Bay!

Solomons Island characters and life

One of the characters we've met in Solomons is a guy named Steve who is on his third marriage, second boat, and first year of retirement. He retired from teaching in the public schools, choosing to teach 5th grade in his last few years as, "they aren't quite as bad yet..." Steve graced the stern of our boat with his presence around 1:30 pm on the day after our arrival with a dinghy full of beer, a gallon of rum, a bag of ice, and a case of Jamaican Ginger Beer. He insisted we join him in a little afternoon libation. We chatted about the usual - the state of the American teenager, the fact that we are burdened with the worst administration ("W") in the entire history of our country, and the beauty and freedom of the sailing life. He had a steady flow of expletives interspersed in his rum-laden stream of consciousness (we noted he started early) and a large gold loop in his left ear. We celebrated "boat life" for a while under the shade of our Bimini, and then Steve was ready for nap time and departed as gracefully as possible given his condition. Boat life is the subject of today. We noticed we do live in an 8-foot by 8-foot area. The galley or kitchen area is actually quite spacious as sailboats our size go...the salon - which is a combination living room, dining room and bedroom - is within that same 8 X 8. Somehow looking out at the sunrise and the stars gives the whole thing a larger feel. Reading is a large part of "cruising", and we have plowed through a ton of books and authors. Wayne says it is just like living in a studio apartment. Well, sort of. Ours floats. And travels. Quite honestly we are posting this blog in the lobby of the Holiday Inn, having paid ten bucks yesterday just to have 23 hours of internet access. It is hour 22.5 and I am typing as fast as possible. We are planning to enjoy a Vera Bradley fundraiser for Breast Cancer tonight at "Caren's Solomons Style", then watch as much football as possible over the weekend - U of M homecoming vs Purdue and the Pack at the Redskins. We're also planning on watching the Red Sox vs Indians tonight. It is the only TV we get to watch...then on Monday on to the Great Wicomico River to anchor for a quiet night. Tuesday we will sail to Mobjack Bay and we will be in Virginia by then. Wednesday if all is well, we will make it to Norfolk and might have the ability to access the internet again. Until then, there will assuredly be more characters, more weather, more opportunities to sail, run aground, motor all day - who knows? Boat life is an endless stream of possibilities and uncertainty punctuated by beautiful starlit nights and blossoming sunrise mornings that send you out onto the water one more time.

Cambridge, Oxford, and the best Crab Cakes ever...

Our last few days in Cambridge were notable for the lovely company we encountered "on the wall" and the creation of our own exquisite crab cakes. We were able to purchase a pound of fresh backfin crab - harvested that very morning - which came with the J. M. Clayton Company's own recipe for making these savory treats. I am definitely not a big fan of shellfish in ANY form, but I was willing to try this...We followed the recipe with only the substitutions necessitated by our limited larder, gently sauteed them in olive oil, and sat down to the first scene above. Wayne was mortified when I brought up some ketchup - he said, "that's impossible, you can NOT use ketchup on crab cakes!". I explained that this was "just in case..." but the miracle happened - they were delightful! I did not need the ketchup at all and in fact would gladly make them again but only if we are able to obtain the delicious, fresh crabmeat that the Chesapeake is known for. Now having our own secret recipe for the best crabcakes in the world, we will be willing to share it with those by email request only. We met a tremendously nice family from the Annapolis area - Dan, Eleanor and Sandy Shanahan (grandma) and their 3 young sons and shared stories, beer, and barter items. I could not help but give these lovely ladies some earrings, for which they gave us what must have been the best steak I have ever eaten and a whole lot of it, not to mention fabulous vegetables from Sandy's own garden. For three nights we ate like kings (our own crab cakes and 2 nights of steak and veggies). This aspect of sailing cannot be beat. After speaking with Dan, we decided to make an overnight stop in Oxford, Maryland on the Tred Avon River. The lovely sunrise and harbor view with the tented racing boat are from Oxford. Although tiny and extremely sleepy, Oxford is a great overnight as the general store has all the provisions you could really need and everything is within easy walking distance. The "beach" - about 15 to 20 yards of soft sand - is a prime spot for picking up beach glass, and brave folks do swim in the water there. Oxford has a small but excellent museum, which featured an exhibit of scrimshaw art from throughout the region. It was fascinating and beautiful. There are convenient tennis courts, parks, and lovely tree-lined streets with typical Chesapeake restored houses. It was well worth the stop. The next day we continued south to Solomons Island, Maryland where we are presently. We spent the most absolutely delightful evening last night conversing with three true southern gentlemen from Richmond, Virgina aboard their 36 foot Beneteau. They introduced themselves as Billy, Bobby and Nelly (for William, Robert and Nelson). They invited us for a sip of Benedictine or a "perfect Manhattan" and conversation. It was an amazing conversation as Bobby is actually a PhD Economist now working in the private sector, Nelson is an architect and engineer, and Bill is actually Bill Broadus, the former Attorney General for the State of Virginia. These three extraordinary men met and became friends in prep school, and celebrate their ongoing friendship with a sailboat cruise every year they can. Bill is a magnificent orator with a mellifluous voice, deep and rumbly with that honeyed southern accent. It was so much fun to have the chance to just chat with these charming gents, and to appreciate the artful way Bill used his voice, presence, and encyclopedic vocabulary. Truly, the art of being a Southern Gentleman is still alive in these three. Now we are at anchor, surrounded by Quebequois on all sides. It gives me a great opportunity to practice my French, but these folks are all so young we were wondering how they could be on the same adventure. In fact, they ARE all travelling to the Bahamas just as we are, and intending to sail for the entire year. They explained, they all have no kids yet, and are merely "taking a year off". Makes me wonder what kind of great system the Canadiens have that they can do this. At any rate, we have yet to attend a Vera Bradley fundraising event for Breast Cancer on Friday, taste the tropical drinks at the world-famous Tiki Bar, and find a good place to watch football this weekend. Solomons is going to be a great place to spend a week.

Cambridge : "the UP of the Chesapeake"

The sail from St. Michaels to Cambridge was extremely pleasant, the Choptank being a wide and deep river with well-placed buoys. The entrance to Cambridge Creek, however, was something else. As you sail nearer and nearer the bridge which spans the Choptank at Cambridge, it seems you will crash into it without seeing the entrance to the harbor. Then a red "nun" buoy signals the need to make a hard turn to starboard and magically a tiny opening between a yacht yard and the marina turns into a deep channel taking you right to the harbor. The inner harbor is not terribly large, but large enough and square in shape similar to Annapolis. We have been lucky enough to stay tied up to the docking wall in front of the County Office building all week. This is a free-up, which saves us considerable aggravation and resources. The Municipal Marina is wonderful, only $1.25 per foot, gas and pumpout reasonable, and showers are great!

Cambridge itself is a town which has seen far better days. Although there are a smattering of restaurants catering to the boaters and a handful of cute shops and galleries, for the most part the town is economically depressed. The main street is much like our own Washington Street was prior to all the renaissance development zoning and "cool cities" money which has helped us to turn our downtown around. There are vestiges of beautiful old buildings, but many are vacant and in significant disrepair. The library, however, is wonderful and always filled with residents. (They have GREAT wireless too...)

The inner harbor at sunset is really a delight, as the photo illustrates. We can walk to Snapper's bar and restaurant (in this picture) and enjoy a beer and carribean/american food in an lovely air conditioned atmosphere with a very friendly staff. The old elegance of the once-important town is evident in the historic district where grand old homes still stand majestically under a canopy of ancient shade trees. The pictured house here is the Granmar house which dates to 1790. Similarly there are several magnificent churches, this one being the Christ Church Episcopal Church on High Street.

One of the highlights for us has been the municipal tennis court complex. Eight beautiful new courts are open at all times for public play, and are only a 10-minute walk from the harbor. The walk takes you through both wealthy and poor neighborhoods, and it is easy to see that there is a significant working class population here. We met a number of "locals" in the Canvasback Bar, most of whom work in construction or on the water. They enjoy the same types of things as most of the folks in the UP: fishing, hunting, dogs and sports. The combination of a large working-class and an outdoorsman mentality made us feel right at home.

Cambridge may not be the port of choice for upscale cruisers, but it has been an especially good stop for us. I was able to sell my complete current inventory of jewelry (thanks, Melissa!) to Kate at "The Pear Tree" and Wayne has been able to fix a lingering problem with what we will attempt to term euphemistically as "head odor". The people are friendly, the recreational opportunities numerous, and the old-world charm is still there.

I might be a sailor someday...

I come from the North country. Growing up on the shores of Lake Superior I learned many things about living on the water. The “Big Lake" was always cold, always pristine, always crystal clear. Summers it was predictably refreshing. Winters yielded lake effect snows dumping feet at a time upon our Upper Peninsula. Storms were nasty for sailors of all vessels. Until a few months ago, that was the extent of my sailing knowledge.

About 5 years ago, my fiancé began taking me on “day sails” aboard his 33-foot Pearson Vanguard. This noble boat (built in ’66) sailed us on overnights to Grand Island and to idyllic, hidden beaches within a few hours’ time. No wonder I fell in love with sailing. When he suggested we take a year to sail the boat from Marquette, Michigan to the Bahamas, I readily agreed. Little did I realize all there was to learn! The trip from the shores of Lake Superior to the mighty Chesapeake Bay has been spectacular. For those novices considering a similar journey, I would like to share some of what I have learned so far.

Sailing across Lakes Superior, Huron and Erie presented us with a number of challenges. The first thing a novice sailor must undertake is the mastering of reading charts and plotting courses. This requires attention and precision and a bit of “faith”. On the day we were to make our crossing of Lake Huron, we encountered such thick fog that visibility was limited to about 10 feet. We had set our course upon casting off for the day, and sailed it faithfully. Miraculously our first sight of land was the lighthouse marking our port of destination! We used our GPS unit to make adjustments during the day, and had no trouble anchoring in a lovely, safe harbor for the evening.

Lake Huron also taught me the importance of remaining calm during heavy weather. Cassiopeia, our boat, is capable of handling a significant amount of wind and waves, and her captain is a mighty sailor. When the lake blew up a sudden squall just as we were approaching Port Huron, there was naught to do but take down the sails and hang on! We arrived cold and wet, but unscathed. We had unknowingly arrived the day before the Port Huron to Mackinac race and the many fabulous sailboats lining the harbor were a welcome sight.

Lake Erie taught me the importance of flexibility. When an unexpected headwind blew up with a good bit of force, the captain decided we would need to alter our destination to the closest safe harbor. This turned out to be a great decision, and we enjoyed the comfort of a serene anchorage behind an impressive breakwater.

Entering the Erie Canal from Lake Erie was a bit of a shock. The novice gets to experience all the “roadblocks” the Canal has to offer in rapid succession. Taking the Black Rock Canal to get to Black Rock Lock, one encounters a massive, ancient “swing bridge” which is miraculously still functioning. Soon afterwards there is a bascule bridge and then finally the lock itself. This trifecta was a powerful lesson in the need to be an excellent communicator.


The Erie Canal is divided into an eastern and a western half. The western half is sprinkled with lift bridges. It is important to learn how to use the VHF radio, so that the “communications officer” can call ahead to the bridge operator while the captain is steering. This becomes particularly important when the lift bridge operator is responsible for more than one bridge. Similarly it is important to contact the lock operators on the eastern half in an appropriate manner. It’s also critical to get your locking gear ready and your job well understood prior to entering the lock. Gloves, boat hook, dock lines and fenders should be out and ready. It is imperative to know what your job is and to communicate among crew members in a calm, efficient manner. The Erie Canal is an absolute delight, made even more pleasant when prepared for the obstacle course.

Coming out of the Erie Canal, we sailed down the Hudson River and into magnificent New York harbor. This is where the critical nature of attention to navigational aids hit my consciousness as we experienced our first grounding. We were traveling at low tide, and mistook a lighthouse (which was painted red) for a “red”. In fact, it was a “green”….et voila. The water Sheriff came by and explained that the entire boating community had begged for it to be painted green, but the historical society which had done the restoration work insisted it should be as it was originally, that is – red. We were able to come off at high tide, but not before the boat had heeled over significantly, allowing us to spend a couple of hours reading in the dinghy.

The importance of attention to navigational aids is magnified about 100 times when one reaches the Chesapeake. Here even our boat, which drafts only 4 ½ feet, is in frequent peril of running aground. The Captain and First Mate should research their destination the night before, carefully scan the water for navigational aids while underway, and agree that the occasional running aground is not such a tragedy. The wonders of the Chesapeake, where hundreds of charming communities are only a day-sail away, exceed the imagination.

In sum, in three short months I have learned to handle the tiller, the diesel engine, the lines, the dinghy, and the dinghy motor. I have learned to plot a course using charts and the parallel rules, sight that course with the hand-held compass, and sail the course using either the compass or the auto helm. I have learned the abbreviations for the various navigational aids, how to utilize that information, and how to utilize the GPS and VHF. I have learned how to lock through, handle obstacles, and not panic when running around. By the time we get to the Bahamas, I might be a sailor!

St. Michaels farewell - a splashy affair

Our last few days in St. Michaels were extraordinarily pleasant. We toured the incredible Maritime Museum, enjoyed a great game of tennis at the courts behind the high school, met new people and even spent an evening aboard the Lady Maryland which is in the picture. Lady Maryland is an all-wood replica of a Pungy Schooner, painted in the traditional green and pink. We met her captain while watching football on Sunday at the bar "Characters". He came from a family of cruisers, and it just so happened his folks were visiting as well. The Captain, Rich Hillman, not only directs his crew of 6 sailor/teacher/biologists, he also teaches hordes of children about sailing. His ship does a lot of public school programs and outreach, and also takes a group of 10 High-schoolers on board during the summer for a learning sail from the Chesapeake to Cape Cod. This is one of the programs for exceptional students that Johns Hopkins offers in the summer. Well, enough of all that - suffice it to say it was magnificent touring the 80-foot schooner and going down below for grog and games. Next weekend the "Great Schooner Race" will take place in which a host of schooners of all sizes will sail from the Chesapeake Bay Bridge to the bottom of the Bay. The only stipulation is that the many NOT engage their propellers at any time. The bay's wind is flukey at best, sometimes dead calm and somtimes blowing like crazy. As a result, the race usually takes about 36 hours. We will be in Solomons, MD at that time and hope to report from there. At any rate, we now have 3 acquaintances who will be racing their schooners and it is so much more exciting when you know the captains! The swans pictured above greeted us upon arrival at St. Michaels and were seen no more. The other two pictures are of a typical sunrise and the waterman whom we saw crabbing every morning just before dawn until about noon, right by our anchorage. Just prior to the taking of these pictures, we were getting ready to sail which includes taking the motor off the dinghy and pulling the dinghy onto the foredeck. This particular morning Waynqe somehow lost his balance while handing up the motor (the dinghy was damp and slippery), yelled to me "I don't have it..." and splooshed face down into the Miles River. Luckily I had a good hold on the motor and was able to attach it to the back rail while attempting not to laugh hysterically. This stunt was enough to keep us both laughing for some time, and the sail to Cambridge passed by with great weather, nice breezes, and general mirth.