Emily's hull had been scrubbed the week before and she slid right along at a consistent 6 kts through the water. Sadly, we had done little to clean her topsides before this first sail, but she didn't seem to protest. The crew simply piled on, shipped stores, filled water tanks, and hanked on sails. 8 hours later, the anchor was down in Crisfield Harbor right as the sun set.
We ate well and often ...
|Sandwich by Gray.|
At Hoopers Strait the best sailing of the day began as it dried up a bit. We reached along on port tack through flocks of scoters. Once in the Bay, the gannets took over. The wind died again, so we motor sailed north into the Choptank and anchor in the Tred Avon across from Oxford's Strand. We were just upstream of the ferry landing that connects Oxford to St. Michaels. Apparently it doesn't run so early in the year and locals told us that now in 20 minutes you can drive there almost as easily, but where's the romance in that?
The whole yard displays itself as a bit of a museum. From the huge shed display window to the "project" boats languishing in the weeds, the establishment seems a throw-back and a wonder to ramble through.
Dinner of spiced chickened rice was followed by a game of cards by oil lantern which added just enough heat to fight the chill. Sea water temp was still 47. Sleeping required a cap. A down comforter in the quarter berth is as nice a nest as any. Slept well.
Morning revealed what would be rain for the day. Scrambled eggs, drop biscuits, sausage, and coffee got us started. We neatened up the cabin before poking outside.
Anchored in the unused mooring field off the beach was convenient, but we elected to grab a slip at what was Mears Marina (now Brewers). Slip rental and 8 gallons of diesel = $120! The hot showers almost made it worth it. We took several walks through town and visited Cutts and Case boatyard. I could sight see there all day, but didn't want to risk a mutiny.
|Norton and diesel.|
|PT model on Packard engine.|
The town offers many distinct cottages and houses. No two are alike. It is hard to tell whether Oxford is on the upswing or not. No Saltines were to be had at the small market. That somehow added to the charm of the place. However, it is far from the days in the 70's when teak decked Palmer Johnson yachts were finished out and ice cream floats could be had at the Confectionary. Long ago I suppose, I'm surprise the home of the great financier of the American Revolution, Robert Morris, hasn't been discovered and boutique up. We can only hope that never happens. St. Michaels already has more than its share.
|the red metal shingled building|
|proverbial sailboat in the window|
The cold winter may have slowed boats from launching, or maybe we were just too early. Likely the latter. A couple of red Hinkleys rested across from the working boats in the cove.
The following day was a late and lazy start. Around noon we left Oxford to reach back across the Bay to the Solomons.
We dropped anchor in Leasons Cove up Mill Creek (the easternmost branch from the entry). Years ago my father and I spent a night here on our first boat, an old Pearson 10M. We were bringing her down Bay after buying her at Herrington Harbor. The cove was more crowded then and I remember not feeling at all easy about our proximity to shore. Emily's 66# claw gives no such concerns. Dinner is chili and rice over a bed of lettuce and Fritos, aka "Bandito Salad". Topped with shredded cheese, onions, and salsa, this concoction is good grub.
Fog was as thick as I've seen it the following morning. With a schedule to keep, we started out at 0700. I relied on my youngest's eyes to seek out buoys as we connected the dots out of the Patuxet. With running lights on we shortly passed a larger sailboat the disappeared in our wake after maybe 40 yards!
|fog off Cedar Pt.|
The winds were increasing and now pushed 20 mph. The seas became lumpy with 6' waves at short intervals. Wind and waves were bucking the current, so we tacked out into the Bay before returning to port tack hunting for Reedville on the Great Wicomico for the night. Only when at turning at the Light did the fog begin to lift. We settled under the town water tower off Tommy's Restaurant. It was pleasant to sit with a drink and watch the world go by after such a tense day.
|Our place for the night.|
We chatted up this wild Friday night and reluctantly said goodbye around 21:00 as my middle son rowed the girls ashore. The night was calm and stars abounded. Away from city lights the heavens get revealed. Sleep was sound until 5:00 when a confused rooster began practice. We ignored him, but another crowed across the water at 06:30. He must have had a watch. Daybreak. We up anchor and slip past the Menhaden fleet.
Pancakes were made under way. Motor sail past fishermen repairing their traps in Fleets Bay, before turning south. The wind fails us so we pause to shoot balloons past Wolf Trap Light.