Log Book: October 28th

Conditions: 68 degrees sunny

Location: Soloman's Island, MD

We finally left Annapolis! Dad and I continued on our way down the Chesapeake this morning, cutting a path through the optis as we left, Dad told the kids to 'watch the paint job' and that the harbor was 'plenty big enough for all of us'. Poor kids. The weather is warmer now than it had been all weekend, a really great day to leave. Not far from Annapolis we passed by a submarine, which we both thought looked a bit ridiculous in the relatively narrow bay. Next we stumbled upon a fish trap, got pretty close to sailing straight through it too. I had never seen one before and I marveled at how stupid it was to put a string of pilings together in the middle of nowhere with no markers to warn the careless traveler, like us. They must be pretty successful though because we saw more and more traps as we traveled further south. I watched pelicans fly by all day, I love bird watching. Every time a pelican saw a fish in the water below it would plummet down in a nose dive, make a big splash, and come up happy. You couldn't say it was graceful but whatever works. We turned up the Patuxent River to spend the night at Soloman's Island. The mouth of the river was flanked by small beaches that led up to pine forests. Breathing in you could smell the sent of the pine oil from the boat. On the south side of the river the trees thinned so that we could see an airport just beyond the beach, but there didn't seem to be much activity coming from it, for now. We easily dropped the hook at Soloman's Island. The harbor seemed to be home to a lot of other boats on the hook traveling south as well. The harbor reminded us of West harbor in Fishers Island, a lot of boats but very quiet. I wanted to go to bed immediately, my cold was just getting worse so after a quick dinner it was lights out.

What we ate: Crazy Chicken (spiced from the Annapolis tea shop), rice

Log Book: October 27th

Conditions: 15mph S wind

Location: Annapolis, MD

Dad and I had intended to leave Annapolis yesterday morning but we're still here. While ferreting around behind the engine Dad found that the heat exchanger bracket had failed so we needed another trip to West Marine and a hardware store. They weren't too far away but it took all day to find the parts we needed. However, we still found time to meander around town on our way to and from the store. Living near the Coast Guard Academy I was surprised to see the different relationship that the Naval Academy had with their home. Firstly the harbor was so full of naval traffic it was tricky to stay out of their way. The Coast Guard Academy spews a lot of boat traffic into the Thames as well but mostly small sail boats, shells, and small power boats. The Naval Academy had big Yard Patrol ships and 50 foot launches everywhere you looked. On shore, in Annapolis, we ran smack dab into a cadet parade and you couldn't walk anywhere without having a cadet in sight. I think that one of their navy blue uniforms would suit me... Maybe for next Halloween. This morning I woke up with a cold, Dad didn't feel well either but we still fixed the engine! With a lot of creativity and elbow grease we got the job done. It's been so rolly in the harbor the past two days that I won't be sad to see Annapolis behind us. I don't think I've mentioned that I've been here before so basically south from here the real adventure starts!

What we ate: burgers, steak, sandwiches, and oysters

Spotted: Some live Van Morrison covers, a local farmers market, & the pride of Baltimore II

Log Book: October 25th

Condition: 60degrees & sunny

Location: Annapolis, MD

Yesterday morning Dad and I dropped the hook in Annapolis, right off the Naval Academy breakwater. We spent the day tidying up the boat and planning our trip into town the following day, being too tired to attempt an escape to shore. Since the beginning of our trip Dad and I have observed the practice of Quaker Midnight, a term we picked up in Greenwich from Mark. Quaker Midnight is really 9pm, when most of Greenwich is in bed whether they're Quakers or not. I think Dad has been a closet Quaker all his life. We had no way of knowing that our stop in Annapolis would bring our curfew to shame.

Today we put our Dyer dingy in the water for the first time. Dad was afraid it would leak so he made me hop in first, but it was dry as a bone. We tested the outboard for the first time as well, which went swimmingly - two for two. Then we were off to Ego Alley, the heart of Annapolis which looked like miniature Newport, RI. While tying up at the dingy dock we met a couple sailing south from Montreal. We got breakfast at the famous diner, Chick & Ruth's Delly and met another couple who had sailed their boat down to Panama and were back in the states for a reunion. I'm convinced Dad has a special sonar that seeks these people out, not to mention they're all over the place. After breakfast we explored the downtown shops. The candy store smelled heavenly but the best place we found was a tea shop called The Spice & Tea Exchange. We picked out some good smelling cooking spices pretty quickly, but it took me about an hour to find the right tea. I love tea. The mint chai was my favorite, but we already had mint tea on the boat so we settled for mango instead. We went into all the boring old stores too, Sperry, Helly Hansen and stuff like that but my favorite clothing shop was called Hats in the Belfry. I tried on just about every hat they had. I finally decided that if we stopped in Annapolis on our way back I would buy a black French beret, because I wouldn't need a beret in Florida and I needed ample time to get used to the idea of myself in a beret. Dad sheepishly tried on a hat too but he looked extremely silly, he's a ball cap kinda guy.

We also stumbled into a museum on runaway slaves, which was interesting but the gift shop was better than the exhibits to tell you the truth.

Finally we were off to our last stop of the day, a marine hardware store. I asked Siri to find one for me but it was a no go so we stumbled around Annapolis for a bit finally deciding that the yacht club would certainly point us in the right direction. It did not, Dad and I had fun for awhile making jokes at their expense for their not so nautical condition. "We're just a waterfront restaurant," was our best one liner. We finally managed to walk to a West Marine and load up some supplies bumping into our Montreal friends while we were there. Back in Annapolis we met up with friends for dinner at McGarvey's. Then toured the bars; Ram's Head, Stan & Joes, and the Metropolitan. The Ram's Head was just like the Daniel Packer Inn of Annapolis, an old stone bar in the basement. I had the best stout beer there with a hint of espresso called, Old Dominion Morning Glory, and I don't even like stout beer. The next spot, Stan & Joes had a live band playing called The Bad Apples. We caught a few songs, the first one being Cake, Short Skirt Long Jacket an old favorite. Lastly we went to the Metropolitan which was really cool as well. I'd definitely recommend those three to anyone wishing to go there. The dingy ride back out seemed to sway more than usual, I guess that's how you know it was a good time.

What we ate: Mahi Mahi, shepherds pie

Spotted: antique spoons DIY chandelier 

Log Book: October 23rd

Conditions: 8mph SW winds

Location: Rockhall, MD

We spent a quiet and lazy day traveling up the Delaware Bay & river to the C&D canal. We even got to make a complicated lunch and eat underway. There was a bike path along the canal with cyclists racing us from the road that we enjoyed watching while we ate. The sailing was easy and the canal quickly spit us out into the Chesapeake Bay. Dad had hoped to make the journey straight to Annapolis but as it got dark we abandoned our plan and headed for the closer harbor of Rockhall. Although hard to get into in the dark, the harbor was so calm I forgot we were even on a boat. Tomorrow morning we will break once again for Annapolis, just 20 miles away. 

What we ate: tacos

Log Book: October 22nd

Conditions: 60 degrees & partly cloudy

Location: Hancock Harbor

Dad and I spent the next four days visiting with the Aunts. The first day I was glued to the TV like I had never seen one before. It was strange to stay off the boat. It had turned into our home, the constant movement our new reality. This sleeping on shore in a bed was now foreign and unreal. Feeling still was now uncomfortable and my mind constantly struggled trying to determine what had changed. We had a nice visit, restocked, and even got to meet some of my Aunt's close friends at lunch. Carol, the big personality at the lunch, gravitated toward me. She said that having three sons just makes you want to be around girls all the time and that "we (girls) have our own language." I had no idea how to respond. Yes, girls do have their own language and I have never been able to speak it. Carol's girl code reminded me of how lucky I am to have made the girl friends I have at home. I don't know if they speak girl either, but we at least have our own language together. It has been almost two weeks since we left home. It feels like we haven't gotten very far and I am eager to set off again. The visit was just what we needed ... some quality time ashore, but it was time to move on. Yesterday, (Monday) we packed up the boat, planning to stay one last night on the dock and leave in the morning. As we were transferring our goodies, a crabbing boat, the Cohansay Queen, pulled up to the dock. On board were the kind of baskets used to store apples ... a bushel, as we say, brimming over with blue crabs. Dad, always the smooth talker, asked if we could buy some of their catch. Instead the captain gave us seven crabs. We left a few beers aboard his boat for the generosity. Fair trade? I don't think so. The crabs were the sweetest blues we had ever tasted. Dipped in Old Bay butter, they were heaven. But I digress, because before we could even chow down on the crabs another boat came in. The owner saw us packing for the trip. He told us that he had gone hunting the previous day and caught some extra duck. Dad looked at me for affirmation (as if he had to even ask if I wanted fresh duck). We ate like king and queen and waited out the night. This morning we departed the quiet salt marsh and headed for C&D canal (Chesapeake and Delaware) heading for Annapolis. 

What we ate: steamed blue crab & duck medallions in a shallot butter sauce 

What we drank: hot buttered rum (I was skeptical but it was very good)

Spotted: tiny dress from Okinawa brought back for the aunts by my grandfather while on tour in the Pacific 

Log Book: October 18th

Conditions: 65 degrees & sunny

Location: Greenwhich

We spent the night at Hancock Harbor and woke up early to meet my dad's high school buddy, Mark, for a lift. Mark gave us the grand tour of Greenwhich. He pointed out historic homes (nearly all of them), the good breakfast spots, dairy farms, and fields. The old Quaker town was a main port for merchants shipping cargo between the Chesapeake and Delaware Bay regions, and also for pirates. The place seemed largely untouched since it's humble beginnings. We even wondered if they had electricity. The only change we noticed was that many of the original produce farms are now used to cultivate ornamental trees. I think we saw every type of farm imaginable. I have always made fun of the country, but here there was something serene about driving through the flat fields and gazing out towards the horizon. The roads were lined with fields so flat you could see their end. I briefly thought that Mark was going to kill us. He drove the car so fast but was going the 50 mph speed limit posted on all the country roads, which belong to towns that conveniently have only one cop. Mark left us with some farm fresh eggs and bacon from Haines, the local butcher. We arrived at the aunts with the biggest breakfast of our trip. 

What we ate: eggs, bacon, hash browns 

Spotted: Mark's home made hard cider setup 

Log Book: October 17th

Conditions: 70 degrees & sunny

Location: Hancock Harbor, NJ

We woke up this morning and set off up the Cape May canal. I briefly wondered why the rest of the boats were not doing the same. Most of the boat owners seemed to be barely stirring and none were preparing to take off. I realize now that it was no coincidence.

We were very vigilant as we headed up the canal, checking the chart and the depth sounder continuously. As we initially headed toward a bridge I didn't think much of it. Sailors travel up this canal all the time. My father has been under this bridge before. The canal was made for boats to travel on, so this bridge must have been designed with boats like ours in mind. Still as we got closer I kept thinking "this bridge does NOT seem high enough!" And, there was the explanation. The reason why no one else had left at high tide was because at high tide the bridge is too close to the water for the masts of sailboats to pass safely underneath. I asked Dad how high the bridge clearance is. He said the charts say 55 feet. But, this was a very high tide. The full moon was close. I was driving. There was a sign at the base of the bridge (in fact there's one on all bridges), that looked like a ruler you would stand against at the doctors office to tell you how tall you are. The water came up to a spot on the ruler telling the height clearance. At that particular moment the water was a hair past the tick below 51 feet, presumably 52 feet and a few inches. Our mast is 50 feet. It is extremely hard to judge if there will be a collision 50 feet above you. It's definitely not the same as judging a possible collision 50 feet in front of you. I know from experience that looking up, the mast doesn't look like the top can possibly be 50 feet high. When looking down from the top of the mast, you're sure that you have to be more than 50 feet in the air. The closer we got to this bridge the more uncertain I became about this possible collision. I stared up, craning my neck to watch in horror. I steered the boat toward the middle of the bridge, under the highest point of its arc. I felt like putting my arms over my head to protect myself in case there was a loud clang from the mast breaking. Instead my ears were met with a smaller clang, and then a high pitched, echoing scraping. The radio antenna, a foot or two higher than the mast, was dragging across the bottom of the bridge. It was a small consolation, very small. The knot in my stomach untwisted and my shoulders sank with relief. Dad looked at me and smiled like it was just another day in the park. His smiled faded when we rounded the next bend and saw a bridge that looked EXACTLY like the last. I immediately said that I was not driving. The next few minutes passed in a tense silence, except for the times when I yelled at Dad telling him to slow down. My warnings were dismissed. It was as if God had pressed rewind of the DVD player just to see if, given the chance and the full knowledge of the situation, we would be stupid enough to attempt a repeat performance. The replay went down just as before and we entered the Delaware Bay no worse for the wear. The bay was so flat it looked like a desert of water. There was no breeze, no waves. The sun was ablaze and left a haze along the water's surface. We broke out of the channel to avoid other boats and buoys. We figured what little luck we had started with must have already been spent on the bridges. However, we soon found a minefield of crab pots waiting for us. I had to scramble off the deck more than once to turn the autopilot off and steer around them. (Dad's too carefree to worry about the mundane dangers of pots. Plus, we already agreed I would cut off the first one to get stuck on the prop, if he would swim down and get the next two.) It got unbearably hot so we got in our suits, put the sail down, turned off the engine, and went for a dip. We sun tanned and drip dried the rest of the way. Not long after the swim we reached the Cohansey  River, a winding salt marsh. It was beautiful inside the labyrinth of reeds and creeks. Over top of the marsh we could see the forest beyond. There was no sign that humans had ever inhabited here. It was like we were explorers in the new world. The fox on the bank stopped mid-trot to watch us pass and the blue heron abandoned it's strut to fly silently over us. The entire river was quiet except for the song the wind played between the reeds. I immediately thought of it as the setting for The Wind in the Willows - picturing Toad Hall to be just beyond the forest. Our destination, Hancock Harbor was buried in the marsh, about three miles up the river. On the dock filled with crabbing vessels, I could have sworn that we were no longer in New Jersey but in the southern bayou. We landed in historic Greenwich, New Jersey and planned on spending the rest weekend with my father's sisters. 

  

What we ate: nothing special

Spotted: bald eagle in the marsh 

Log Book: October 16th

Conditions: 65 degrees, partly sunny

Location: Atlantic City/Cape May

We left yesterday at 4 in the morning in the pitch dark. From the time I woke up I knew it was coming for me. The seas were calm, but on the ocean they can only be so calm. The breeze was light but on the ocean, above a certain latitude, the breeze can only be so light. Nausea knocked on my door all day.

I managed to ignore the sound for awhile in the early morning and I napped. Once we got out of the channel at Sandy Hook I was unable to move off the cabin top until we pulled into Atlantic City. There were dolphins, which almost made it all worth it.

It took all day to get to Atlantic City. We pulled up to the dock an hour before sunset. The city was alight with casino signs, so much so that the old lighthouse stationed among them was utterly pointless.

I barely moved all day but I was exhausted and went straight to bed.

Today we woke up, used the marina showers - thank god - and started the sail for Cape May. Again there were dolphins. Again I didn't move off the cabin top in the hopes that I could conquer the sea. And, I did. We entered the Cape May Canal and anchored with a few other boats, which were obviously also making their way south and tucked in for the night.
As I write the canal is so calm, quiet, and dark compared to Atlantic City and the other ports in which we have stayed. Sleeping will be no problem. In the morning we plan on catching the high tide up the canal in the hopes of reaching the Cohansey River, where we will stay the weekend with my Dad's sisters.

What we ate: chicken soup, soupie, cheese, crackers, grilled ham and cheese with Mac and cheese.

Spotted: Coast Guard saving lives

Log Book: October 14th

Conditions: 70 degrees, sunny
Location: Atlantic Highlands YC

Dad and I arrived at a wind swept Atlantic Highlands and it was an unwelcome sight. Even past the breakwater the harbor was rocking with waves and the wind rattled the entire boat. As we got settled in for the night we discussed the plan for our next stop, Atlantic City, 80 miles away. It did not take long for us to decide that we would forgo leaving in the morning and stay the day to restock, refuel, and to tour the town tomorrow. And what a tomorrow it was. When we awoke it was to a new town. The harbor was calm and the sun was high in the sky. I even took out the paddle board, trying to remember everything that our friend Jack taught me about how to maneuver the board properly. Unfortunately, I am rarely one of those people who can try something out the first time and get it right. It takes perseverance for me, but I managed to remember a few tips and stayed out of the drink - this time. Later we took the launch in and in town we quickly found a coffee shop for Dad. It had been 2 days since his last and only coffee of the trip. The sign said 'Fair Mountain Coffee Roasters' but we didn't find any fresh cups brewing. Instead there were at least 20 burlap sacks filled with beans and a gleaming metal machine hard at work roasting. The sacks all had different locations printed on the front. Some said Bali, others Kenya, and still other Colombia. We filled a bag up with some beans from Bali and met the owner, Greg. He used to be a buyer for restaurants etc. in NYC ... a buyer of beans. After restocking we headed back to the boat, made dinner, and prepared for the next day (or more appropriately later that night) when we would leave the Highlands at 4 in the morning to begin the long ocean sail to Atlantic City.

What we ate: grilled shrimp, scallops, clams and salad 

Log Book: October 13th

Conditions: 20 mph east wind, partly sunny

Location: Atlantic Highlands YC

We left early this morning from City Island to catch the 7am high tide to help us through the East River. When we reached the city it was as if we were on a private tour bus. Apparently Dad and I navigated like tourists as well. We near hit a channel marker and a ferry. The river was busy with a number of ships about, but we still managed to enjoy the sites the East Side of Manhattan had to offer. Watching various runners on East River Drive was particularly entertaining. Different people, different colors, shapes and sizes, strangers all running the same route, back and forth. Most of the runners were women with seemingly different motivations for running - weight loss, fitness, stress relief. It made me want to run with them. We soon left the city behind and got a good seat in front of the Statue of Liberty (where we almost got hit by the ferry). Then we were off to Sandy Hook, a short ocean sail away.

Log Book: October 12th

Conditions: 69degree, sunny

Location: New York City

Finding nothing more remarkable on the island we took to the buses and headed for the Bronx, on a tip to visit the New York Botanical Gardens. After recently falling in love with plants, considering them tiny, silent, unmoving pets, I knew that I would fall in love with the gardens as well. Like any girl I longed to visit the Rockefeller Rose Gardens, envisioning waterfalls, parasols, and candy somehow accompanying the flowers. However the Haupt Conservatory was by far my favorite part of the entire gardens. Inside the beautiful white Victorian building were large tropical trees, ferns, palms, cacti, and intricate flower arrangements that we're growing, living art. To my surprise they not only have gardens but they have a number of classes ranging from botany to pharmacy to woodland survival (centered around The Hunger Games plants). I could live there and be completely contented, getting back there would be the only trouble. I have never been good at traveling through New York, even though I must have been a hundred times I still feel like a clumsy tourist. My sister knows the city like the index of a Vogue magazine (very well) and I don't think I will visit again without her to tow me along.