Rhode River, Maryland

Today we moved further north in the Chesapeake Bay, traveling from Plaindealing Creek near Oxford to the Rhode River, south of Annapolis. As we left the Tred Avon, the Oxford-Bellevue Ferry passed in front of us. This ferry (although not the actual boat itself) is believed to the be the oldest privately owned service in the country, having been established in 1683. Before a coal-fired steam engine was installed in 1886, the ferry used sails and oar power carry "horses and men," mostly local laborers between orchards and farms. The current boat can carry up to nine vehicles plus bicylists and pedestrians, but in the last couple days I have never seen more than two vehicles on board. No longer an essential everyday transportation link for locals, the 3/4 mile ride is popular with tourists, running every 10 to 15 minutes spring, summer and fall. 

Oxford- Bellevue Ferry heading for Oxford

The wind was not favorable for sailing in the direction we were heading this morning, so we had to use the engine more than we liked. Despite the heat and the humidity and the lack of breeze to cool us down while we were traveling, we kept ourselves occupied watching the occasional small pod of dolphins and continuously watching for crab pot markers bobbing in various colors on the surface. While our propellor would probably slice through the line if we ran over one, the waterman who owns the pot would probably not be pleased. 

Markers by the hundreds of thousands bob on the bay, but in some places the water is too shallow for crab pots to work well. In these areas of less than 40 feet depth, as we learned yesterday while talking with a waterman on his boat, trot lines are employed. As he explained trot lines to us, he never slowed down dexterously throwing out old bait and putting new bait--zebra clams purchased by the bushel in his case--in small mesh bags which he tied to a line every few feet. The lines with bait, 100 feet long or more, are stored in brine onboard until he sets off, usually in the early morning. Apparently, crabs are more active in the morning and less likely to spook when the trotline is moved. With his pre-baited lines as well as more bait onboard, the waterman will set out in his traditional small boat with a roof for shade. (We have seen many of these boats at work, and they always seem to be single-handed, but I have read that sometimes 2 or 3 people will work together.) An anchor--maybe 15 pounds--marks the start of the line and is marked with a float. From this point, the waterman maneuvers his boat down current, spooling out the pre-baited line behind and then placing a lighter anchor and a float at the end. The waterman then works the line from beginning to end, using a gaff or a hook to pull up the line and a net to snag the crabs that are clinging to the outside of the mesh bag just before each bag reaches the surface. 

After we dropped anchor around 4 p.m. and got everything on deck ship-shape, Peter fired up the generator and turned on the air conditioner. Once again, it was 88 degrees down below. (Almost two hours later, it has gone down to 80.) I, or course, have stayed in the main cabin while, Peter, who does not seem to be as adversely affected as I am by extreme humidity, chose to have a hot cup of tea (I will never understand drinking a hot beverage in hot weather!) in the cockpit before starting in on another project. He has been assiduously working in the heat creating an eye splice in the end of one of the genoa sheets. It is a tedious and exacting process; if done correctly--which, of course, is the way Peter does it--it is virtually impossible to see any of the underlying core in the line or where the sheathing has been re-braided. 

Peter creating an eye splice

The barometer has been falling today, and we expect thunderstorms tonight and tomorrow, which may bring relief from the humidity. There are a couple small islands near our anchorage in this river, and before dark we will explore by kayak.

Oxford, Maryland

It was another hot and humid day here. We are anchored on the quaintly named Plaindealing Creek off the Tred Avon River; the little town of Oxford is on the other side. Peter decided to spend the day here working on various projects, so I did three loads of laundry. In the intense sunshine, most of the clothes dried on the line in an hour.

We dinghied over to town for a late lunch at the same restaurant as yesterday because we liked the food and the staff. It was heavenly to walk into the air-conditioned space. When we returned to the boat, it was so sweltering that sweat was dripping off my brow even though I was standing still. Usually we wait until evening to turn on the AC if we need to, but it was 88 degrees in the cabin (and the ambient humidity got as high as 75% today), which, in my opinion, was just unendurable. As the cabin cooled down slowly (thankfully, now at 9 p.m., it is 75 degrees), Peter took a short nap and I had a long, lazy siesta. 

The only good things about the weather conditions is that it was even too hot for the flies!

I took no photos today. Maybe I should have taken shots of laundry on the lifelines? Here is one I took a few days ago illustrating why we don't jump in the water to cool off. The bay and its tributaries near the mouths are swarming with sea nettles, moon jellies and common jellyfish at this time of year.

Sea nettle in the green water of the Chesapeake

St. Mary's City, Solomons and Oxford, Maryland

After spending two pleasant nights on peaceful Mill Creek off Ingram Bay near the mouth of the Great Wicomico River, we pulled up anchor on Thursday, June 24, around 10 a.m. and motored downstream to the Chesapeake, passing frolicking dolphins along the way. For over four hours, we had 14 knot winds from the ESE, and we were able to sail close-hauled, tacking once, average about 6.5 knots--so it was a good day of sailing. Passing the wide mouth of the Potomac River, we turned upstream near Point Lookout on its northern shore and proceeded up to the first major northern tributary from the mouth, St. Mary's River (which also had dolphins!), anchoring in wide and peaceful Horseshoe Bend at 5 p.m. After settling in, we launched the kayak and paddled around the area, visiting the replica of the Dove, one of the two boats that left England in 1633 to establish the first white settlement in Maryland.

The Dove

The Dove, our kayak and the St. Mary's River

The next day, Friday, June 25, we enjoyed a full day of activities on shore. We kayaked in to the docks of St. Mary's College of Maryland, tied up, and made our way through the end of the lovely campus, pass historic Trinity Church, to Historic St. Mary's City. We followed the sound of music, which was emanating from a pavilion at the edge of historic area. A group of talented musicians was performing a variety of folk music, most of it used to accompany traditional contra dancing, which would have been popular among the original English settlers.

Local musicians performing folk music

We stopped at the gift shop to get tickets for walking around the historic area and picked up a map and a schedule of activities. Making our way to the next one scheduled (at 11 a.m.), we stopped to read some of the numerous signs along the paths that explain the history of the area. (I really have a difficult time passing signage at museums and historic sites and natural areas.) The first activity enlightened us on the native Americas who had lived in this area prior to the arrival of Europeans. Archeological evidence indicates that the area has been inhabited for 12,000 years. When the English colonists, led by Leonard Calvert, the brother of the second Lord Baltimore, Cecil Calvert (who had received a royal charter for the area south of the Massachusetts Bay Colony and north of Virginia), arrived in the area in March 1634, they encountered the Yeocomicos and bartered with them for land on the east side of the St. Mary's River near what is now named Horseshoe Bend. The price was some manufactured goods such as cloth and the promise of protection against maurading tribes from the north.

The Yeocomico lived on both sides of the river in a dispersed woodland hamlet, taking advantage of free-flowing fresh water springs, well-drained soil for agriculture and an abundance of food gathered or hunted in the water and on land. They used dugout canoes for transportation on water and participated in extensive trade routes. Copper from the Upper Midwest as well as stones from the American Southwest have been found in excavated sites of the Piscataway nation to which the Yeocomico belonged. They grew beans, corn, squash and melons and cultivated fruit trees, including the peach tree, a species which had been imported by the Spanish to Florida in the 16th century--another indication of the trade among native tribes. They lived in houses called witchotts, constructed of cedar bent when it was green to form a long, arched structure, held together by rawhide strips and covered with indigenous reeds. They wove baskets for various uses, made pottery including tobacco pipe bowls, used shells for wampum, made drums from natural sources such as wood and leather, used atlatls and bows and arrows for hunting, and created clothing from hides and furs. 

Drum and baskets on display in a reconstructed witchott

Partially reconstructed witchott showing construction methods

Clam shell and wampum beads

Furs on display in a reconstructed witchott

Sherri wearing a wrap of various furs 

For the first few months of settlement by the white people, while the colonists were constructing their homes, they lived with the native people, who taught them about the area, and, vital for the colonists' survival, how to grow corn and other crops. The industrious colonists, using the labor of indentured servants, who made up more than half of the contingent of about 140 immigrants, built a fort with enclosed dwellings and cultivated the land. Over the sixty years of its existence, St. Mary's City spread out over a considerable span of waterfront and pasture (over 1000 acres), and the structures ranged from recycled witchotts to rude wooden shacks to timber residences and a few brick buildings, including a Jesuit chapel.

The Calverts (the Lords Baltimore), who privately owned the colony, were Roman Catholics at a time when this religion was officially outlawed in England. When the first Lord Baltimore, George Calvert, converted to Catholicism in 1625, he became ineligible to vote or hold public office. After an unsuccessful attemt to establish a colony in Newfoundland, he petitioned King Charles I for land north of Virginia. He died before the charter was granted, but his son, Cecil, the second Lord Baltimore, received the charter. Ony 27 years old, he began the Maryland venture in 1632, putting together the ships, people and supplies to start a colony that he hoped would prove a profitable investment while providing a place for Catholics to worship freely. Interestingly, not all who made the four month voyage were Catholic. Many who signed on were more interested in the prospect of land ownership than religious freedom and agreed to four to seven years of indentured servitude in exchange for land upon completion of the terms of labor. 

Approximately 140 people embarked from the Isle of Wight in November of 1633 with Cecil Calvert's younger brother Leonard in charge. (Cecil himself could not go because he needed to remain in England to defend the charter.) Two ships, the Ark and the Dove, set off; they became separated during a storm early on. The Dove was presumed to be lost at sea but rejoined the Ark in the southern Caribbean. Entering the Chesapeake Bay, they sailed up the Potomac River and established themselves temporarily on St. Clement's Island while they explored for a site for a permanent settlement. 

Although the settlement was quite successful and became the first capital of the colony of Maryland, the city lasted little more than 60 years. At first, there was growth and progress; between 1634 and 1645, tobacco plantations were developed all around and the population of settlers increased to nearly 600. However, in the 1640s, there was political upheaval in England; Charles I was executed and a Protectorate was established under Oliver Cromwell. This period of civil war extended to the colonies, with the English privateer Richard Ingle capturing St. Mary's City in 1645. Leonard Calvert recovered the colony a year later, but the Calverts lost control again to Protestant enemies between 1654 and 1657. Eventually, the capital of Maryland was moved to Annapolis in 1695 for political, economic and religious reasons, and St. Mary's City, the main function of which was government, faded into obscurity and finally disappeared as all the area was converted for agricultural uses. By 1750, only a few traces of the city remained above the ground. 

For nearly 200 years, there was only intermittent interest in the first settlement in Maryland. One archaeological investigation was made in the 1930s and the 1676 brick Statehouse was reconstructed on the 300th anniversary of St. Mary's City. Finally, in the 1960s, with plans for residential development formulated, intense concern for the preservation of the site emerged. Land was acquired by the State of Maryland and surveys and digs began. Over decades of investigation, experts, using historical documents and archeological evidence, were able to determine the layout of the city and the location of specific buildings. Today, some of the buildings have been reconstructed and others have ghost frames showing their placement.

Reconstruction of an ordinary (or lodging establishment)

Set type for a printing press; St. Mary's had the first one south of New England

Inside an ordinary, or lodging house/tavern

Inside an ordinary

Dining area in an ordinary

Outside of a typical clapboard structure

Jesuit Chapel

While the layout of the city and many exact building sites have been known for at least a couple decades, the location of the original fort, which has intrigued archeologists for about 90 years, was a mystery. A letter from Leonard to his brother Cecil indicated the dimensions and the distance from the waterfront, but little else was known. Then, in 2019, archaeological geophysicist Tim Horsly, using ground-penetrating radar, detected the outlines of the palisaded fort; particularly, scans revealed the imprint of post holes that formed a large rectangle with a semicircular bastion at one corner. Due to the pandemic, the results were not released to the public until March of this year, and actual excavation began just recently. Peter and I felt extremely fortunate to join a limited tour of the dig site, where the field students explained their work and showed us some of the artifacts they had discovered in the past few days. We were also reminded of visiting Jamestown while we were sailing on Epicurus with the kids in 2006 and were thrilled to find a new dig there of the recently discovered site of the original fort of that Virginia settlement. 

Original iron nail from the fort

Evidence of post holes for the palisades

Archaeology student showing a pottery fragment

Slow, meticulous work with trowels and chisels

After the tour of the fort excavation site, we continued on our own for a couple hours following the paths and learning more about this fascinating place, finally completing our tour around 5 p.m. Peter kayaked back to the boat to get chairs and turn on the anchor light. When he returned, we made our way to the large white tent forming a half-dome over a stage on campus to enjoy a free concert sponsored by the college and performed by the Chesapeake Orchestra and a talented mezzo-soprano. There was a large crowd for this concert, the first since early 2020 of the River Concert Series, and numerous food trucks. We purchased healthy Middle Eastern food, which we consumed before the performance started. The first half consisted Hector Berlioz's Les Nuits d'ete, a song cycle featuring six poems by Théophile Gautier. After intermission, the program included popular 20th century pieces including Moon River, Night and Day, More and Someone to Watch Over Me. The singer had a powerful, goosebump inducing voice. The concert was a wonderful conclusion to a great day on land. We returned to Mantra at sunset.

Audience gathered on a pleasant summer evening for a River Concert

Musicians warming up

Mantra anchored in Horseshoe Bend

The next day, Saturday, June 26, we pulled up anchor at 9:30 and set off for Solomons, Maryland. We had to motor in the morning due to insufficient wind, but in the afternoon, with wind up to 18 knots, we cruised along under sail on a comfortable broad reach, doing 7 to 9 knots, for three hours on the bay, only turning the engine on again to maneuver up the Patuxent River and Back Creek to the Spring Cove Marina at Solomons. It had been hot day, and we did not lose any time after tying up making it to the cool relief of the swimming pool. On the pool deck, happy hour was in full swing, so we bought drinks and socialized. After refreshing showers, we walked into town to a restaurant we had visited on a previous trip, the CD Cafe. It's a small place with great food, and we were lucky to get a table right away on a Saturday night. Walking back to the marina, we were enchanted by fireflies dancing above the lawns and in the shrubbery. 

At 10 a.m. on Sunday, June 27, we were at the Calvert Marine Museum when it opened. We were expecting little and were amazed with the extent of the museum's collections and with the professional and engaging presentations. First, we learned about rays and skates and saw some swimming in a pool; it was fascinating to learn about their differences in physical traits and reproduction. Next we entered the hall of paleontology, where there was quite impressive display of fossils and excellent educational graphics worthy of a world-class museum. The town of Solomons is at the southern end of the Calvert cliffs which border the Chesapeake Bay in that area. For 35 miles, there is an unbroken exposure of fossil laden strata An amazing array of fossils has been found over the past two centuries, most from the Miocene, from 3 to 10 million years ago, when the area was a seabed that experienced successive periods of high and low water. During that time, the area was tropical, and land species included crocodiles, tapirs and camels.

Peter looking at the fossil display

Peter in front of the skeleton of a megaladon

Other areas of the museum focused on the Chesapeake as an estuary, maritime history, wartime history, oyster harvesting and packing, commercial fisheries and boat building in Southern Maryland. Outside, there is a large display of traditional wooden boats, from log canoes to mid-20th century fishing vessels. The Drum Point Lighthouse is also on the grounds of the museum. This 1883 screw pile light was decommissioned in the 1960s and moved to the site in 1975. 

Boat with attachment for sucking up clams

Boats for oystering and fishing

Two and three log canoes

Fishing boat restored and used for waterfront tours

Drum Point Lighthouse

We wanted to continue our movement up the bay, so we only stayed two and a half hours, but we could have spent much more time at this little gem of a museum. We cast off the dock at 1 p.m. and had the engine off in less than a half hour, average 7 knots under sail all the way to the mouth of the Little Choptank River on the eastern shore of the Chesapeake Bay. 

This morning (Monday, June 28), with very light winds, we managed to average 3 knots on a deep broad reach to the mouth of the Tred Avon River, which feeds the Choptank. The anchorage in Town Creek next to the town of Oxford we found to be too shallow and to narrow for anchoring, so we crossed the Tred Avon to the opposite shore and found a lovely place to anchor on Plaindealing Creek. We dinghied into Oxford to check it out for leaving the boat while we are at the beach in Ocean City, Maryland, July 17-24, and afterwards, when we return to California on another cross-country road trip to get ready to descend the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon in September. The heat and humidity were killer, and we were happy to eat indoors at a waterfront restaurant called Capsize, which has excellent fare. Then, I walked to the post office and the little store while Peter went to Oxford Boatyard to discuss projects that (still) need to be done on Mantra. I passed many lovely homes on my walk as well as the three hundred and eleven year old Robert Morris Inn and Tavern. 

Lovely shaded home in Oxford

Homes and front gardens on quiet street in Oxford

Robert Morris Inn and Tavern, in business since 1710

We are back on board, and there is a nice breeze, but it is still sticky and there are extremely annoying flies which I take great pleasure in swatting to death whenever possible. Now it's time for a light dinner, a refreshing shower and air conditioning!

Mill Creek, Northern Neck, Virginia

It's Wednesday, June 23, and Peter and I remain anchored in bucolic Mill Creek, where we arrived yesterday afternoon just before rain set in. Today, I am doing some laundry; we have a washing machine on board, and the life lines serve as clothes lines for drying. It is sunny but not hot and humid; the temperature is only 72 degrees, and there is virtually no wind (which is why we are not moving). Yesterday evening, we actually had to don sweatshirts because of the chill. 

Mill Creek in the late afternoon

Below is what I wrote yesterday. For some reason, the cell service signal was not strong enough to post then.

***********

Rain on Mill Creek

It's Tuesday, June 22, and I write as I listen to the rain falling all around and quiet rumblings of thunder. We have puttering around from anchorage to anchorage on the shores of the Northern Neck of Virginia, and the days have been mostly uneventful. On Sunday (June 20), we anchored just east of the easternmost fixed bridge on the Great Wicomico River in the afternoon and got the dinghy in the water for the first time. Peter suggested using the smaller (and older) of our two outboard engines, but a test drive proved that—no surprise to me—it would not work reliably. I cannot count the number of times Peter and other cruisers have worked on it, only to get a few hours of life out of it. Of course, Peter is sure he can fix it, so he took it apart again and identified the (a?) faulty part, which has to be ordered. So, we hauled out the heavier—but new and reliable—outboard motor (which we purchased a year ago in Guatemala). 

Peter shooing away Canada geese that wanted to come aboard

On Sunday evening, we dinghied over to the dock at the bottom of the riverfront property of our friends Mick and Christine, who own a sister ship to Mantra which was on the hard beside her at Norton’s boatyard in Deltaville. They are in the process of total restoration. They have a lovely home on a few acres of land. The house is on the National Register of Historic Places, having been constructed in 1832 when the surrounding area was one large plantation. We enjoyed a delicious meal with them and their teenage son Bay on their terrace while taking in their view of the river. The conversation, of course, was mostly about Sundeers (the type of boat Mantra is) and cruising, with a little bit devoted to Tesla’s. They are keeping Peter’s at their place for a few weeks until we pick it up to drive to the beach in mid-July.

 

We were going to go back to their place on Monday morning (June 21) and drive our car to a supermarket in Kilmarnock for groceries but decided we could just pick up the few things we needed (including Diet Coke!) at our next stop, Reedville, a small, historic town just a few miles away by water. 

 

Reedville was found by Elijah W. Reed, a sea captain and merchant from Maine who, in transporting lumber from Maine to Virginia on his schooner, noticed large schools of menhaden in the Chesapeake. These had been commercially fished in New England for decades and processed as high-protein feed, soap, stains and a variety of other products, and he recognized a business opportunity. In 1873, he purchased land on Cockrell Creek near the mouth of the Great Wicomico and established a fish processing industry there. The community grew and prospered; fortunes were made and Victorian mansions lined part of Main Street, known as Millionaire’s Row. By 1912, the Northern Neck had 15 large menhaden factories and about 60 ships supplying them. Wooden boat building also became a thriving industry. Reedville was at the heart of the burgeoning local economy and was one of the wealthiest towns, per capita, in the U.S. However, the Great Depression destroyed the market for the products, and Reedville never truly recovered.

 

The mansions of the plant owners and the sea captains survived, however, along with more modest houses, and they are well-maintained, surrounded by expansive lawns. Reedville is on a narrow peninsula; from Main Street, water is visible between the houses on either side of the quiet street. We had read that there is an excellent Fishermen’s Museum in Reedville, and we tied our dinghy up at its dock. Outdoors, there are a number of boats on display with informative signage; unfortunately, the museum is only open Thursday through Sunday. 

Skipjack Claud W. Somers

Peter looking at a three log canoe with the Claud W. Somers behind in the water

Striker boat used for fishing menhaden

Locally built skiff used for pound net fishing and also as a life boat

Peter and I decided to walk down Main Street toward the point of the peninsula to admire the architecture and gardens and find a store for supplies and a restaurant for lunch. We passed Reedville Marine Railway, a family-owned business which had been building wooden boats 106 years. The Butler family just sold it a few weeks ago, ending the tradition. As we continued on, we passed no people on the sidewalks. Deltaville Market was closed, but we saw an ice cream parlor ahead and our hopes were raised. Alas, it is only open Thursday through Sunday. Beside the shop stood a man with a tool belt talking with a couple in a van. We asked them if there was anything open, maybe a restaurant. No, apparently, everything in town is closed Monday through Wednesday. We inquired about the nearest grocery store and were told the closest one, a Dollar General, was five miles away. When we explained that we had arrived by dinghy, the couple offered to drive us there and back. With the supply of Diet Coke on board Mantra gone, we just had to accept. We enjoyed talking with them about traveling (They had camped in all of the 48 contiguous States and used to own a powerboat for cruising on the bay.) and about Reedville. 

Mansion on Main Street in Reedville

Menhaden processing is still happening in Reedville, as was apparent from the strong smell as we passed the plant near the mouth of Cockrell Creek in our dinghy on our way to and from the small, quaint town. We had chosen to anchor on the other side of the Great Wicomico in the bight of Sandy Point, having read about the odor. That was an excellent choice. However, Peter decided he liked the scenery better on Mill Creek, so at noon we pulled up anchor and motored here, further up the creek than before, just before the rain set in. 

 

As Peter performs various maintenance jobs and tackles sundry projects on board, I pass the long hours reading and doing word games. I just started an embroidery project. It is not a work of art, but the process passes the time. Today, as the weather is cooler and less humid, I am making chili, starting with dried beans (purchased in Guatemala) and fresh produce and an assorted mixture of herbs, middle Eastern spices and masala. I have made a large pot, so I hope it is tasty, because we are going to be having it for several meals.

Beginning of embroidery work

Sailing at Last!

Roger, the mechanic who worked on the engine was not available Thursday, June 17, so Peter climbed down into the engine room and investigated the diesel fuel leak itself. (I am happy to report that Roger, whom we liked, was not responsible.) Peter found the leak and then had to figure out, by consulting the manual, which was not very helpful, and by sheer ingenuity, how to fix the problem. The secondary fuel filter on the engine has a built-in water separator and sensor and drain; the sensor/drain was not tight. According to Peter’s assessment, Yanmar gets a F- for poor design because the sensor and drain are plastic and, to meet ABYC fire hazard requirements, Yanmar just added a metal can to cover the plastic parts so that piece of equipment can only be accessed by removing the entire filter assembly from the engine. That explains why the leak was invisible. Once again, however, Peter overcame bad design and saved the day; he’s a jack of all trades and master of many!

Peter celebrating his success at getting us out on the water

Finally, at last, at nearly 4 p.m. we cast off from the dock at Regatta Point Yachting Center. As soon as we got into the bay, we had 13 knot winds from the northeast and were able to sail close hauled at a speed of 7 knots. We headed up the Rappahannock River, the Chesapeake’s fourth largest river, and anchored at a pleasant place on Center Creek at 6:30, surrounded by wooded banks and lovely homes partially hidden by the summer foliage. Nearby was a piling designed just for osprey nesting, and we observed the parents as well as one baby bird. There were also great blue herons in the trees and on the shore.

 

Anchoring on Carter Creek

On Friday morning, June 18, we spent time on the boat and then took the kayak out, paddling over to The Tides Inn, an upscale resort nearby, where we had lunch and talked to staff and volunteers who were in the process of seeding a new oyster bed as part of local efforts to restore the Chesapeake Bay habitat. 

 

Sherri and Peter at The Tides

We were just planning to jump up to the next northern tributary on the Rappahannock to re-anchor, which would have been a short trip, but the wind was favorable for sailing and we had no agenda, so from 3:00 to 7:00 p.m. we sailed upstream, past our destination, and then jibed and came back. We entered Corrotoman River and found a quiet anchorage on the east branch with only one other vessel anchored in sight. 

 

Osprey nest on a channel marker

Sherri in the pilot house as we sail on the Rappahannock

Most of the area was once an immense plantation owned by the Carter family. John Carter fled Cromwell’s regime and emigrated in 1649. In the course of his life, he was prominent in colonial government, serving one term as governor. The son of one of his five wives, Robert “King” Carter, added to his father’s holdings and when he died in 1732, he left 330,000 acres of land, 10,000 pounds in British sterling, and 1000 slaves. His descendants include three signers of the Declaration of Independence, four governors of Virginia, two U.S. presidents and Robert E. Lee. Another plantation owner along the Corrotoman River was George Washington’s grandfather, William Ball.

Foiled Again!

All went well this morning. With the faucet fixed and the unneeded parts returned to the hardware store, we cast off from Norton's around noon and motored over to Regatta Point Yachting Center. The boat yard and docks at Norton's are well maintained, the facilities are clean and the people are very friendly, but, still, it's a boatyard, not a cruising destination. At Regatta Point, I was able to enjoy the pool while doing five loads of laundry. 

Meanwhile, Peter worked on the autopilot in the aft compartment. When I returned to the boat, I noticed a strong smell of diesel fuel, indicating a leak. However, Peter continued with his work, and I proceeded to make our bed with clean linens and put clothes away. 

We took a walk as bright sunshine became a warm evening glow of light and then had dinner in the cockpit. Afterwards, Peter went to look for the source of the diesel fumes. He did not need to look far; there is a pool of fuel on the engine room floor. However, he is unable to determine the source. In the morning, we will need to contact the mechanic who worked on the engine--we thought he had done a wonderful job!--and wait for him to come by to find and fix the problem. 

So, I'm still trapped in Deltaville!

Escape Plan Foiled!

I have not posted for a couple of days because life has been extremely uneventful. We did have friends on board two nights ago, enjoying their company and a nice dinner. In anticipation of departure, yesterday I went to the Deltaville Market, where organic food is scarce and the produce department, instead of being an extra wide aisle or a complete side of the store, is a small corner. I also cleaned the deck of Mantra after we put the dinghy in the water. (It usually rests on the foredeck when not in use.) A year's worth of dirt had accumulated under its hull, and the canvas cover was streaked with mildew on the inside. The deck cleaned up easily, but I had to try several soaps and mold and mildew removers which we have on board before I had any success at all with the green grime. 

The plumbing parts that Peter had to order at the local hardware store were scheduled to arrive today, so, after being hauled up the mast by me (with the help of the electric winch) to inspect the sheaves, he left to pick up the faucet. I asked him to get me a Diet Coke--with ice!--at the 7-11, because we do not bother to use our freezer so I never have the luxury of ice in my drinks while on board. He realized as he drove away that he only had 10 minutes to make it to the hardware before noon, when it closes for lunch hour. He also had a couple of other stops which are on the way back to the boat yard, so he bought the Diet Coke right after the hardware stop because the 7-11 was nearby. After running the two other errands, he arrived back here with a diluted Diet Coke in which all the ice had melted. It hadn't occurred to me that he wouldn't think to get the drink last, even if it meant doubling back in this small town. 

We were supposed to be ready to leave after the parts were obtained, but Peter prudently decided to make a quick check for fit and realized that he needed to return to the hardware store to exchange part of the plumbing supplies. The hours slipped by. 

Thinking he had the right parts, we got ready to cast off and move to another marina, the only one in Deltaville that has drinkable water. Regatta Point Yachting Center has installed reverse osmosis equipment. Everywhere else, the people put up with brackish water from wells.

Apparently, about 35 million years ago, a bolide impacted the area that is now the lower Chesapeake Bay, travelling through shallow coastal water and forming an impact crater in the granite continental basement rock about 25 miles wide, 5 miles deep. Over a few hours or days, the sedimentary walls of the crater caved in, creating an even larger crater, about 53 miles in diameter, filled with huge blocks of rock covered with breccia. Continual slumping of rubble helped to shape the lower Chesapeake Bay and the rivers that flow into it. The impact and subsequent crater continue to effect the local area even today, as the local freshwater aquifers, which lie above a layer of brine, are contaminated by salt water. 

So, I was looking forward to getting to Regatta Point to fill up our tanks with fresh water, use their laundry facilities and take a shower and actually come out smelling clean! We had the dinghy and the kayak on deck, fenders tied on and the instruments running, but we realized that, unfortunately, the wind conditions made it untenable to maneuver into a slip there, so we are still on the dock at Norton's. Unable to move, Peter tackled the plumbing job under the bathroom sink and came up frustrated that he STILL does not have the right parts. Perhaps it is just as well that we did not leave here because he can use his car to visit the hardware store once again tomorrow. (We are leaving it here at this boat yard until a friend can drive it to his home this weekend.) 

Before the daylight waned, we lowered the kayak back to the water and set off to explore Broad Creek, which has a few lovely sections which are undeveloped or fronted by nice residential property, but mostly boat yards and marinas obscure the natural shoreline. We were able to observe great blue herons and laughing gulls as well as an osprey couple constructing a nest on top of a channel marker. The water was too choppy to allow good photography with a cell phone, so there are still no photos on the blog from Deltaville. 

Peter is digging around in the supply of parts under the berths to see if we already have the spare plumbing parts we need. So far, he has found one. Meanwhile, I am going to the showers to get relatively clean.

Escape Plan is Hatched

Peter says we will be able to leave on Tuesday! We are just waiting for the new faucet for the bathroom to arrive at the local hardware (which closes each day for lunch--how civilized!), and he will continue to get other tasks accomplished until then. Meanwhile, my contribution today was doing two loads of laundry at the home of friends nearby and preparing lunch and dinner. 

It stopped raining about midday, and a weak sun came out later in the afternoon, although the sky was still predominately clouds. Sunshine is predicted for tomorrow, although the temperature will only be in the mid-70's.

Dreary Deltaville

Here we are--still--in dreary Deltaville. It has been raining almost constantly today; the day has been dark and damp. The good news it is not hot. The not so good news is that I kept myself occupied with cleaning and tidying as much as possible, but it was not enough to fill the long hours of the day. Peter spent most of the day working on plumbing, so we he had to turn off the running water on the boat. Unfortunately, he was not able to obtain a part he needs nor repair the broken one, so we are still without running water, necessitating going to restrooms in the rain and letting the the dishes pile up. 

A couple of days ago, we had to come to the assistance of a boatyard worker who slipped while boarding the yacht across the dock from ours; he was unable to get up and another worker plus Peter and I had to heave him on board. Luckily, he did not have a major injury. Yesterday, a charter boat came in to the marina with a torn mainsail and the inability to use reverse with the engine; the sailors had been caught in a squall. Today, the owner of the yacht was putting up the repaired main when the wind started gusting and the rain began anew. Peter and I rushed over to help control the sail as it was being furled. That was our bit of adventure for today.

No word from Peter yet on when we may set sail. 

Mantra Has Returned to the Water!

After spending nearly a year on the hard in Deltaville, Virginia, due to the COVID-19 pandemic, Mantra returned to the water on Tuesday, June 8. Peter and I drove across the country from west to east in May. We stopped to see my dad (whom I had not seen since Christmas 2019) in northern West Virginia before separating; I flew back to Sacramento and Peter continued on to the Chesapeake Bay to work on the boat and get her ready to sail. I only showed up when she was back in her natural environment. 

Peter continues to work on the boat; the tasks are endless. I have unpacked and stowed everything (except his tools and parts), provisioned with food, cleaned the interior and some items on deck and worked with Peter on putting on the sails. Peter has enjoyed meeting and working with people here in Deltaville even though the work is exhausting. While he has been mentally engaged and manually working from sun-up to sun-down for the past three weeks and continues to do so, I have already completed my work in two days, so my big effort now is making meals. (I would do laundry in our washing machine, but there is not enough sunshine right now to dry the clothes on the life lines.) The workload is totally unbalanced, but I simply do not have his skill set. 

The weather alternates between hot and humid and rainy, and, as I knew would happen, I miss the cloudless blue skies of central California and the dry heat of summer there (although I did enjoy listening to the rain pelleting the deck and the kah-boom and crash of thunder as lightening illuminated the sky).

Both of us are eager to be sailing again, but Peter will decide when it is time!