Smith Island, Maryland

As members of the Coast Guard Auxiliary, Flotilla 7-1, Hans and I are not always as active as we’d like to be with that organization. Our first real opportunity to serve with the Auxiliary came this past weekend, and it was an experience that neither of us will soon forget. We didn’t defend the country from terrorist acts and we didn’t save lives . . . at least in the immediate sense. We hope we helped in the saving of lives in the long run, and know that we will remember the experience forever.

We traveled to Smith Island, Maryland where we assisted in teaching the “Maryland Boat” Safe Boating class to young people of the island and nearby mainland towns and areas. Anyone born after July 1, 1972 who wants to drive a boat needs to have a license, and must pass this course. We had 29 students, from 8 years old to 35.

We left our slip in Baltimore on Friday, June 29^th at 4:05 am. On board were Hans and I, along with long-time friend Barbara Smith, and also Dion Mulvihill, both members of our Flotilla. We rendezvoused with the three other boats that were going to Smith Island at West River G-1 at 8 am, exactly four hours into our trip. John Sill, who is from another Flotilla in the same District, transferred from the boat "Klein Aboard" to Aqua Vitae for the rest of the voyage. It was a beautiful trip down to Smith Island. Aqua Vitae ran the ten hours without a hiccup, and while we normally run at 2400 rpm for 8-8.5 knots, we were helped along by the tide so it only took us 10 hours to do the 88 miles.

The narrow, winding channel into Ewell shifts with the whim of the sea spirits, and our little flotilla was led through it by Bill Dize, a most remarkable man who moved to Smith Island from Tangier Island (Virginia’s Chesapeake Bay Island which is south of Smith) with his wife Jenn about thirty years ago. Bill's history, love of the water, the island, his wife Jenn, and generosity of spirit (not necessarily in that order) are legend. His deeply tanned face and brilliantly blue eyes reassure the visitor that anything can be managed. He and Jenn both sport the Elizabethan Cockney accent that is a traditional part of Smith and Tangier, a leftover from the early English settlements (John Smith landed there in 1608.) Bill warned us of the tricky shallows in the channel entering Ewell, the main town of the island. It is only 35 feet wide, and wanders away from the red . . . hug the green, but follow me, he said. We did!

We had dinner that first night at the “local” restaurant in Ewell, "Ruke's Seafood," which is half antique shop and half restaurant. This intriguing place is worth a lot more time than just dinner or lunch, and I'm sorry we didn't go back for more exploration. The restaurant is well staffed by two women whose names I did not get but who cooked and served 20 of us with smiles and wonderful food. I had a sandwich of three soft shell crabs, French fries and local cole slaw for $12.50. We spent our evening in the little "club house" that belongs to the marina, enjoying the company of others who had come on this journey for much the same reasons that we had: what can we do to help?

On Saturday we were served breakfast at the local B & B, Chesapeake Sunrise, operated by Pauli Eades, right there at the Smith Island Marina. Pancakes and bacon, OJ and fresh coffee (that kept coming, and coming. . .!)

The class was held on the first floor of the Methodist Church, which is a big bright structure dominating the “Main Street” of the town. Pastor Rick welcomed us all with a smile.

The thousands of impressions and mini-dramas that took place that day would be way too long in the telling for this venue, but it was one of the most memorable experiences I’ve had. Students were frustrated, elated, determined and casual, and we had about a 60% pass rate. It is NOT an easy test, and for some of the younger students even the reading was difficult. Those of us who were there to assist helped with comprehension of the questions. What does the word "vessel" mean . . . ? oh my. We talked of raising the lower age level if we do it again.

That night, back at the docks of the marina, Bill and his wife Jenn treated us to one and a half bushels of crabs, which we picked with varying levels of success. Steve Klein, who was master of the toyboats in the instruction that day, was also master of the hardshells that evening on the docks, lasting well beyond what any of the rest of us could achieve!

A wonderful surprise was Jenn's presentation to each of the four boats that traveled to Smith Island for the weekend with the traditional Smith Island 10 layer cake . If you are a young woman of Smith Island you cannot marry until you've proven your worth with the baking of one of these cakes. Jenn had baked FOUR of them that day, to the delight of all of us! She is an amazing woman, having also hosted some unspecified (and unimaginable!) number of students who had come from all over the region for the class.

Sunday morning brought us 15 knots of wind out of the north (in our teeth!), with gusts to 25. It could have been worse . . . it could have been on the beam, and we would have stayed right where we were, and maybe that wouldn't have been so bad after all! Reverend Rick gave a blessing of the fleet before we left, for which we were all grateful. Bill led us out of the channel, and this time we followed his instructions carefully and tucked in close. We had watched the day before as a sizable cruising trawler had run aground mid channel and had spent the better part of the day trying to pry loose. We had a newfound respect for Bill's "tricky" channel into Ewell.

We'll go again to Smith Island. The clean simplicity of life there was tantalizing to those of us who struggle with traffic (Smith Island has perhaps four cars, or six, some of which sport license plates) the hustle of the daily grind (the Smith Island Cruise Boat arrives at 1:00 and leaves at 4:00, and those are the hours when you hustle. . . if you want to, if that's what you do, only. . . I don't know that the word "hustle" exists in the Elizabethan Cockney of Smith Island. . . ) The rest of the time you live with nature, the elements (which don't always seem natural!) and whatever/whoever is your God.

It is an amazing place with amazing grace.

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A couple of things . . . Don't forget that to view any of these photos at full size you just need to click on them. Also, I'm going to continue to post new photos here if I get new ones or images that are different. I still haven't looked at every photo I've taken but wanted to post it sooner rather than later. Also, please remember that if you click on any of the photos here they are larger and more clear. I hope. Having said that, some are better than others at a large size, and I still have to work that out -- AND will do so, soonest!
The photo of Aqua Vitae returning from Smith Island is by Sam Blate, who recorded the entire weekend for posterity with camera and pen. Um. Okay, okay, Sam, with camera and computer, I forgot what century we were in! . . . Easy to do that on Smith Island.

Dory's "Going With"

Dory’s “Going With,” you bet!

So we're going to the boat tomorrow, and I’ve been rushing around, putting stuff in my little overnight bag, in the bags and boxes I’m taking tomorrow because its early in the season so I'm moving spices and soups and rice on board, and Dory is looking nervous. The very worst thing that can happen for a dog who is so much a part of our pack is that she be left behind. . .

I keep telling her she’s “going with” but she’s not convinced. Finally I take one of the dog food containers we use on the boat and fill it with dry food (oh yes, with her help BELIEVE me!) and she and I agree: Yep, this is Dory’s food. So I put it in one of the boxes by the door. DORY’S food is going with, DORY is going with. Okay? And I put some Pupperonis and chews into various baggies and containers and then into a shopping bag and then into the box. Dory’s TREATS are GOING WITH, right? Okay. I put the lid on the box, and she’s watching the box. I’m thinking hm-m-m, maybe it’s too accessible. She is definitely watching the box. I put a tote bag on top of it, nice and heavy with my camera and some shoes. She’s watching the box. Hm-m-m. Maybe it’s still too accessible. So I take a big blanket of non-skid under-the-rug stuff that’s going and I drape it over all of it. And I take Dory’s collar and I put it across the top of the whole thing. “Dory’s going with,” I say. Ah! Dory IS going with!!! It was a light bulb. So she is STILL down there lying with her nose on the box. Don’t know when the last time was that I saw this dog sleeping NOT on a bed or blanket or couch or pillow. But she’s got her nose on the box that has her stuff in it, and the stuff on top of it that has her collar on it. . . . and it’s not going anywhere without her!

Dory on the Boat

Even though Dory practically has her own website she is very definitely part of this whole boat-and-bay thing for us so I really have to add a section here about her, and how she deals with the boat.

She’s a big powerful girl at 82 pounds, and what they call a “Fox Red” Yellow lab. We are seeing more labs of her color, which I think comes from crossing the yellows and the chocolates, but in any event she is beautiful, with yellow eyes, pink to reddish skin, and this great hound-type of nose and jowls. The nose and jowls work for her, as she is definitely nose-oriented, and when snuffling out something of interest her jowls flap to collect the scent. She would have been a great rescue dog, as once she’s tracking she’s “gone.”

We got Dory from Lab Rescue when she was 5 years old, and believe it or not we had to teach her to swim. She’d wade in, joyful, and then slow down and finally stop. “Oh, right,” she’d say, clear as a bell, “I only go up to the elbows, okay? Just the elbows.” She’d watch that stick (or ball, or Frisbee) go out there and by golly, if the water was past her elbows she’d just stop and watch it.

So one day Hans threw the stick and I chased it, bounding into the water with great splashes and shrieks and I got the stick! Oh-my-gosh!

When Dory is thinking (and she does that a lot because she’s really smart and figures things out by herself) she stands stock still, frozen, brain cranking, synapses firing. Her ears go up, and her mouth forms this little “o” as she purses her lips.

Well, the next time Hans threw the stick Dory got it, and she had to swim for it by golly and she hasn’t stopped since.

Unfortunately there is no handy transom door for stepping out onto the swim platform on Aqua Vitae. I don’t know quite what the freeboard is but it’s over my head, and maybe seven or eight feet up. So getting Dory down to the dinghy is tricky. But she is game for anything, and strong and athletic, and even though she is now ten she is STILL willing to do super-dog things to come and go.

She loves the boat. One of the best things about it is that we are all three of us there and captive to the company of the other two, which is just where she wants us to be. The other good thing is sitting on the foredeck, where the hot sun can bake your hide (until you can’t stand it anymore
and go into the saloon of the boat to pant in the airconditioning until you cool off so you can go back out again) and you can put your nose into the wind to suck in the smells that are being brought by the winds. Dory is very “nose-oriented.” Did I say that already?

Dory is definitely “going with!” . . . and that does sort of take it out of you, ya' know?

Knapps Narrows and Tilghman Island

Knapps Narrows is at the north end of Tilghman Island, its passage effectively making Tilghman into an island. The entrance is just south of the Poplar Island Straights, and when traveling from the north it will help you cut an hour or two of travel time when entering the Choptank River from the Bay.

The entrance to the Narrows is a narrow channel that takes you almost into the marshy areas that are just to the north of the channel. On more than one occasion we’ve seen sailboats aground just off the entrance mark, so a high tide entry would be recommended. This has long been one of my very favorite pictures of the Chesapeake Bay. The marshy areas, the wide open spaces and water all around, with just that dot of color that is the skiff the boys are fishing from, speaks of the Eastern Shore to me. Kids there can drive a boat almost as soon as they can walk.

Tilghman is where many of the Skipjacks dock when the Virginia oyster season is not open. (Oh! Skipjacks? I’ll be writing on those separately, so watch for that addition!)

The current through the Narrows can be “interesting,” running either in or out with the tide sometimes up to 3 knots. The Bridge opens “on demand,” and the bridge tender is always gracious about it.

The area has seen some growth in the last 20 years, with odd shaped houses popping up where there was no land before, developments of big fancy homes appearing amongst the hard earned and much simpler traditional homes of the area. New restaurants and Inns have opened on both sides of the channel, when before it was only The Bridge Restaurant (where for $1 you could have all the oysters on the half-shell you could eat if you ordered them as an appetizer . . . ) Those days are long gone, unfortunately.

The Tilghman Island Inn is on the south side of the narrows west of the bridge, and I can attest to the fact that this place has come a lo-o-o-ng way from its humble cinder block chicken coop beginnings. The chef is masterful! They have a dock for transients, although it will not accommodate large boats. It is worth a stop if you can manage it, for any meal!

There are many creeks and rivers feeding into the mighty Choptank, with several interesting towns on its banks (including the “back door” to St. Michaels!) so the trip through Knapps Narrows is almost a “must,” for any number of reasons.

A reminder: click on any photo to see it larger, and then click on your "back" arrow to get back to this page.

St. Michaels on Maryland's Eastern Shore

We love the Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake.

It is quite different from the Western Shore, where you will find Baltimore, Annapolis, the Potomac River – BIG places, lots of people and boats. On the Eastern Shore you find quiet anchorages, farms, a slower pace, fewer people, fewer boats (except on holiday weekends!) and small, interesting towns.

We used to keep Aqua Vitae on the Eastern Shore at Lippincott Marine in Graysonville, MD. The marina is just on the other side of the Kent Narrows Bridge off Route 50. The setting there is lovely. The docks face Marshy Creek, where this picture was taken, and the land directly across the creek is owned by the Wildfowl Trust of North America. The place has a wonderful sense of peace.

I remember when St. Michaels was a sleepy little town, undiscovered - but you just knew that discovery would someday come. Well, it has, and summer weekends can be a challenge. I believe that the place has more boat shoes per capita on any given Sunday than anywhere else in the world. Well, except for Annapolis.

The Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum is in St. Michaels and is well worth a visit. As members we can dock our boat there overnight, which is great. It is two short blocks to town and restaurants.

Don't forget that you can click on any of these pictures to enlarge them, then click your "back" arrow to return to the blog.

Baltimore

We have a slip at Anchorage Marina in Baltimore. It's in an area called Canton, which is rapidly being "revitalized," with the building of new on-the-water condos and town houses that no one can afford. (Well, SOME people must be able to afford them because they're mostly occupied. Where do they get their money??? Yikes.)

From our slip we can see the Domino Sugar plant, and yes, they refine sugar there. Some days the air is sweet with it, some days our boat gets slightly sticky with it. I'm going to post a couple of photos here which I think really show the dynamics of the PORT OF BALTIMORE, and of course, Domino Sugar is featured. Believe me, we can't see it this close from our marina, but if you will go to the Inner Harbor (a delightful "must see") then you will pass this plant. We just happened to be passing when they were loading (UNloading?) raw sugar, and it's really a spectacular sight.

We are within a long walk of the Inner Harbor, which is a lot of fun to go to. What a sense of festivity it has! Colors and music and flags flying. We often start or end a cruise with a turn around the Inner Harbor, just for the fun of it.

The Constellation is there, and I'm posting a picture which really intrigued me. The sailor resting his arms on the rail was really just a visitor to the ship . . . but he seemed as if he belonged so completely that I believe that he saw himself that way too. Click on any of the pictures to enlarge them.

Between Canton and the Inner Harbor is Fells Point and Little Italy. Baltimore is at the west end of the Patapsco River, which 99% of the time is rough with confused seas and a heavy chop. Perhaps some of that is due to the tug and ship traffic, because Baltimore is a port, and they're determined to keep it that way -- there's a new moratorium on development of the shoreline. I believe I've only seen this river flat on one or two occasions. Here's a picture of one of Baltimore's beautiful tall ships during one of those occasions.

Aqua Vitae on the Chesapeake Bay

Our 1986 Albin 43 is a gorgeous boat and ready to cruise! We've gone so many places on the Chesapeake Bay but I'd be willing to bet that NO one has "seen it all" on this amazing body of water. In a few months or a year we'll be cruising full time, but I thought it would be fun to start this blog with the cruising grounds that I know. There is SO MUCH TO SHARE on the Chesapeake Bay!

There are many many quiet anchorages . . . numerous lovely harbors offering everything from fine dining and honky tonk to educational maritime experiences. I hope no one minds if I've "tweaked" some of these images a bit to make them "artistic." Some I'll leave alone so you can see the "real thing." Nonetheless, hopefully I can help show some of the Chesapeake's finest. . . but, like everyone else, I've not "seen it all!"

Here is a misty dawn on the Corsica River, just off the Chester River. The Chester River (and I'll be posting more pictures of the Chester, believe me, as it's gorgeous!) is one of the few real rivers of the Chesapeake Bay. Most of the "rivers" are tributaries, tidal fingers of the Bay, reaching up into the farms and small villages, or developments and cities. . . and back down with the receding tide.

The Chester has a strong enough flow of fresh water that you can actually swim (some years) well into the fall, when other "rivers" are so full of sea nettles (stinging jelly fish) that you could almost walk across to the other side. The anchorage you see in this picture is one of our very favorites. The water is 10 feet deep or so almost up to the shoreline. In the fall, the geese fly overhead in huge flocks, calling, threading the skies like waves of seaweed in the ocean.

I remember once waking up in the middle of the night wondering what inconsiderate neighbor was having such a raucous party so late into the night. . . it was the geese.