Escape from Oxford at Last!

Sailing away from Oxford

Yesterday (May 30), we finally cast off the docklines, stopped at the fuel dock at Safe Harbor Marina and then motored away from Oxford. We had good wind and were able to sail most of the afternoon, finding a place to anchor on the eastern side of Poplar Island at the mouth of Eastern Bay. The island is almost entirely man-made now, but it was a large island when English colonists settled there in the 1630's. By the late 1800's, it had split into three pieces due to erosion. At that time, the largest piece was home to about 100 residents, and there was a post office, a school, a church, a general store and a sawmill. Deforestation to supply the sawmill may have contributed to the island's changes, as the tree roots held in place the sandy soil. 

The one town had been abandoned during the the 1920's and it became a hunting retreat for the wealthy and influential, including Presidents Franklin D. Roosevelt and Harry S. Truman. However, by the 1990's, the landmass consisted of about 5 acres compared to the 1140 acres surveyed in 1847. 

The Federal and State governments selected Poplar Island as a dumping site for dredged materials from the shipping channels approaching Baltimore. Because Baltimore Harbor's soil is contaminated, it is not used to recreate the island. The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers began reconstruction with clean material in 1998. We could see the cranes and barges from our boat. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service has been making part of the island into an uplands and wetlands wildlife sanctuary. The island is home to about 175 bird species, and more than 1000 diamondback terrapins are hatched each year on the island as a result of the species spontaneously choosing to lay eggs each year soon after the restoration project began. The hatchlings have a 99 percent survival rate because there are no foxes or raccoons on Poplar Island.

It was so pleasant to be anchored in a quiet spot with stars scattered across the inky blackness. The orange sunset lit the western sky around 8:15 p.m., but it was not truly dark until over an hour later. 

After breakfast, we pulled up anchor and began traveling again. The wind was negligible so we had to motor for about four hours to reach our next anchorage spot up the Magothy River on the western shore of the Chesapeake Bay. Settled in behind Dobbins Island with a couple other boats, we ate a very late lunch. We are running out of fresh food, but I managed to make a sub sandwich for Peter, complemented by the last of the vegetable soup, and I had peanut butter and jelly on English muffins. There will be major provisioning in Baltimore. Luckily, Safeway supermarket is just across the street from Anchorage Marina.

We put the dinghy in the water and hauled the outboard engine out of the forepeak; we needed to check that everything is working. (We already know that the dinghy has a slow-leaking patch that needs to be replaced, but we need to get materials in Baltimore.) The engine was uncooperative for a minute or two, but then it roared to life and settled in to its rhythm. We went to shore on the island, which is privately owned. In the State of Maryland, owners cannot claim beaches below the high tide level, and the owners of this island has ringed the island at the high tide mark with large pilings spaced about eight feet apart. There used to be chain between them. There were a few powerboats and jetskis on the shore, having brought in high school and college students on vacation. The sun has now set and they are departing with the music and the party voices as darkness settles in.

Peter on the dinghy

Happy Anniversary to Us!

Yesterday was our 28th wedding anniversary, which we celebrated by being still in Oxford. Actually, we had a nice day here. I hadn't posted since Wednesday because it was the same old, same old. The weather Thursday and Friday was gloomy, as was I. Luckily, the skies finally cleared and we awoke Saturday morning to bright blue skies. After breakfast, we climbed in our kayak to explore. The Tred Avon River was too choppy, so we decided to pursue the serpentine shore of Town Creek, paddling by mansions with expansive lawns and manicured gardens and into small patches of marsh that had not been landscaped. Swimming around were small terrapins. Above us, on man-made platforms and in trees were nests which pairs of osprey guarded, warning us to stay away with shrill, high-pitched cheereeks.

Osprey launching from perch

The Oxford Cemetery lies along the southeast shore of Town Creek. I was interested in seeing the grave of Tench Tilghman, so we found a place under some conifers to get ashore. Perhaps it wasn't the best choice. At first, as I stepped down on the gooey muck of the shallow water, it seemed fine, but suddenly one leg sunk in up to the knee, releasing a terrible stench. I was able to extricate my leg and foot and not lose my sandal. I clambored up under the low-lying limbs to the grassy expanse of the cemetery lawn. Peter, more prudently, crawled to the front of the kayak and alit on the roots of a tree. On the water, we had passed the Tilghman monument, a modest plinth and column with an urn atop, so we knew we would find it if we walked the path closest to the shore. 

Col. Tench Tilghman's grave

Tilghman's grave and memorial

Col. Tench Tilghman was an aide-de-camp to General George Washington during the American Revolutionary War. He is famous for carrying the surrender papers signed by British General Charles Cornwallis from Yorktown, Virginia, to the Continental Congress in Philadelphia. Tench Tilghman's ancestors were among the first settlers of Talbot County (where Oxford is located). His greatgrandfather, Richard Tilghman, received a land grant from Lord Baltimore; Tilghman, a British Navy surgeon from Kent County, England, arrived in Talbot County in 1661, settling along the Tred Avon River. The Oxford Cemetery was originally created for Tilghman family burials (although Richard is buried at the Hermitage, his mansion in Queen Anne's County nearby). Col. Tench Tilghman himself was buried in the cemetery at Old St. Paul's in Baltimore when he died in 1986. His remains as well as his tombstone were moved to Oxford in 1971.

Water's Edge Museum

After our kayaking, we walked a block to the small Water's Edge Museum, an eclectic place entirely privately funded and run by Barbara Paca, who is a great-great-great-great granddaughter of William Paca, a signer of the Declaration of Independence. Paca is a fascinating woman with a multitude of interests. By profession, she is a landscape architect with a Ph.D. in art history from Princeton. She runs her firm (along with her husband Philip Logan, an architect), Preservation Green, out of New York City and Oxford, while also serving as a research professor in the anthropology department of the University of Maryland, College Park. Her passions are native plant utilization, environmental conservation, historic preservation, accessibility, and community building. Locally, she concentrates on preserving and documenting the legacies of early African American families. Her many interests are obvious at the Water's Edge Museum. The exhibition space includes large vibrant paintings of local black people and smaller lithographs and drawings based on African-American spirituals by Ruth Starr Rose.

Around the age of 20, in 1906, Ruth Starr Rose moved with her family from Wisconsin to nearby Hope House, which had been a plantation home for the Tilghman and other wealthy families in the area. The Starr family lived differently than their neighbors, in a racially integrated community where they socialized with their African American neighbors and friends. Rose focused her paintings on African American life on the Chesapeake Bay. Rose and her family had long supported civil rights for African American people and they were well connected with black artists and performers, including Paul Robeson, Lead Belly and Roland Hayes. Rose's subjects included local descendants of Frederick Douglass and Harriet Ross Tubman as well as a professional sail maker, female crab pickers, and heroic WWII veterans. Paca has personally tracked down and acquired Rose's artwork, and it fills an entire room of the museum. 

Another part of the museum focuses on old maps and provides some insight into the trade in enslaved people. As a major port before the Revolutionary War, Oxford accepted the entry of over two dozen ships carrying people from Africa via the Caribbean and four arrived directly from West Africa between 1763 and 1772. Over the centuries, of course, the enslaved Africans and their descendants made possible the agricultural and maritime commercial development of the region, including the oyster and ship-building industries. After the Revolutionary War, Oxford remained a shippping and seafood center predominated by black watermen through the early 20th century. This section of the museum, complemented by the work of Ruth Starr Rose, reflects one of the primary missions of the River Edge's Museum, to celebrate how people on the Eastern Shore lived and how their lives mattered. (For this reason, it is part of UNESCO's Slave Route Project, which seeks to increase understanding of the human tragedy of the slave trade by making better known its deep-seated causes, its consequences for societies today and the cultural interactions born of this history.)

Also included in the museum are displays about sea level rise and, specifically, Antigua and Barbuda. Paca helped to revive the historic garden surrounding Government House in the capital of St. John's, has been serving as Maryland's Cultural Envoy to Antigua and Barbuda since 2016, and was the curator for Antigua and Barbuda’s National Pavilion at the Venice Biennale in 2017, the theme of which was Environmental Justice as a Civil Right. The Pavilion also had exhibits on the historical roots of Antiguan carnival costumes and the artistic output of an underappreciated artist, Frank Walter (on whom Paca has authored a biography). The volunteer at the museum walked us around outside the museum, showing us the greenhouse, plantings and a new garden behind the building. That little museum was well worth a stop, and any day that includes new things to see and new things to learn is a pleasure.

Yesterday, after lunch, Peter went up the mast to clean the lower spreaders. As I type, he is on his third trip up the mast today. He has cleaned the second set of spreaders and is now inspecting and repairing sheaves at the very top, about 65 above the water.

Peter cleaning spreaders

View of part of Town Creek with three watermen's boat on the right

View from the top, with Sherri in a red swimsuit on the deck.

Peter and Sherri at Pope's Tavern in Oxford

I spent some time at the pool in the later part of the afternoon, and in the evening Peter and I went to Pope's Tavern for our anniversary. Our main meal was scrumptious, as expected. Afterwards,indulged in decadent desserts and enjoyed complimentary champagne. 

Although Peter said yesterday that we would probably be ready to leave today, I did not get too hopeful, and that is a good thing, because we are still here. 

As Usual, the Weather Changes

In the last post, I mentioned that Monday morning was pleasant with temperatures in the 70's and a cool breeze, a respite from the weekend's heat and humidity. Not long after I posted that, clouds rolled in and the temperature dropped and rain started in the evening. Dreary weather is predicted until Sunday, although yesterday's low temperature and biting northeast wind at a steady 12 knots have not continued. There were even small patches of pale blue sky today. 

Yesterday's gloom was compatible with my health yesterday, as I suffered all day from lower intestinal discomfort and periods of shivering chills alternating with feverish sweating. I took three long naps, having little energy, and was still able to sleep through the night. Today, I was somewhat better although not quite right. 

Peter, meanwhile, put new straps on the holding tank to make it more secure, because spewing black water is not something you want in the engine room. He also worked on the recalcitrant generator, an aspect of the boat that has frustrated him for the four years we have owned her. He continues to be baffled by its conking out within minutes but sometimes hours of starting. He showed me the results from his oscilloscope, a colorful line graph of green, blue and yellow lines on a black background that revealed information about the solenoid and motor that he found fascinating but provided no enlightment to me. Even as I type this, he is studying circuit diagrams and other documents, searching and searching for the elusive problem so that he can fix it. 

From 8 a.m. to 5:30 p.m., we had a surveyor on board checking all the systems and compliance with regulations. He spent a good deal of time in the engine room, checked the whole boat for leaks, crawled around the entire deck tapping with a mallet to listen for rotting underneath the fiberglass and did various other tests. In the afternoon, we pulled away from the dock and went out for a couple hours so that he could check the engine under operation as well as the sails and rigging without the engine. As always, the sailing was excellent; even the surveyor was exuberant when he took the wheel. 

Peter actually likes the engineering challenges, but this is what he LOVES1

Despite the conumdrum of the generator and minor issues revealed by the survey (which were not particularly surprising to us), Mantra is good to go. Tomorrow, Peter will work on the rigging (a job that was delayed once again because of the winds that arose on Monday afternoon) and then, fingers crossed, we should be able to depart Oxford finally. 

I returned from a short walk Monday afternoon to find Peter's wedding ring beside tools above the engine room. Does this mean he is transferring his love and commitment to the boat?

What does this signify, I wonder!

Mantra Has Sailed--Finally!

On Saturday morning (May 21), Peter and I got up early and worked flat out until after 2 p.m. getting Mantra ready to accomodate guests and to sail. Our friends Lori, Germán and Elizabeth arrived just in time for all of us to attend Safe Harbor's barbecue by the clubhouse. No one had had lunch yet (and Peter and I had only had small containers of yogurt for breakfast), so everyone was famished. We enjoyed sitting on the deck, admiring the view and enjoying the breeze on that hot and humid afternoon.

After lunch, we got their gear on board and got ready to sail. What a delight! After we motored down the Tred Avon River, we were able to kill the engine in the Choptank River and sail properly in a 10-12 knot breeze, achieving 5-6 knots of speed. It is so, so pleasant when the engine is off and it is possible to hear the wind in the sails and the boat skimming through the water. We were out for 3 hours, returning in time to have dinner at Doc's Sunset Grille. We each had a different meal and all the food was delicious. Unfortunately, the best of the sunset was over when we arrived, but we still enjoyed dining right by the water. (Aside: I have to wonder why beverages were served in plastic glasses and the flatwear was also plastic. This makes no sense environmentally.)

Sherri and Germán in the cockpit

Lori and Elizabeth in the pilot house

Germán and Lori

Peter at the wheel

Lori, Germán and I played a game of Farkle (Lori won!) before going to bed. Peter and I slept in the pilothouse; the temperature was in the low 70's. It was quite pleasant except for a car alarm going off somewhere nearby for about half an hour right after we lay down and the fire department siren blaring around 2 p.m. Who knows what that was all about!

The next morning, after breakfast of scrabbled eggs, toast and fruit, we set off on a bicycle ride through town and out into the country where the corn is about 8 inches high in the fields by the road. Where there was not corn, there were marshes or small woods. Interspersed among these were large country homes surrounded by several acres of land each. The woods provide an inkling of what the vegetation looked like in this area before vast tracks of trees were felled to clear land for agriculture. Peter and I were on fat-tired bikes that we borrowed from the marina, while the others were on their road bikes. Although the scenery was pleasant it was not spectacular, and Peter and I decided to turn back after just three miles, and Elizabeth accompanied us because the pollen in the air was aggravating her allergies. When we return to the boat, Elizabeth set off in the kayak to explore. Lori and Germán returned just as she was setting off, arriving back earlier than expected because the main road was more and more of the same and the side roads had no shoulder for bicyclists to use. Lori was up for kayaking with Elizabeth but she seemed content to be off on her own. The four of us lazed around on deck enjoying the breeze on that hot day. After a while, Lori and I roused ourselves to make lunch; I reheated black bean soup I had made earlier in the week and Lori quickly put together an appealing and flavorful salad with produce she had prepared in advance. The meal was as good, we felt, as any that you could get in a gourmet restaurant. 

Elizabeth kayaking

We saved room for dessert. After they packed up their bikes and the car, we walked the short distance to Scottish Highlands Creamery, where we pondered over the wide selection of ice creams and toppings and finally ordered sundaes. Sitting in the shade, we took our time appreciating the textures and vibrant flavors of our treats. 

Germán, Elizabeth, Lori, Sherri and Peter at Scottish Highlands Creamery

After Lori, Germán and Elizabeth left to return to Washington, Peter and I rested for a while. I read while he took a well-deserved nap. He has worked almost continuously for over a month now on Mantra. Finally, I decided I needed to accomplish something, so I gathered up our laundry with all the sheets and towels and went to the clubhouse. After I put the first two loads in the washing machines, I nipped over to the swimming pool and immersed myself in the cool water. The temperature by that time of day was around 90 degrees F and the humidity was hovering around 70%, so the pool was a quite welcome relief. 

Peter joined me after a while. Gradually the temperature started to drop and the sky darkened from the west as a thunderstorm approached. We still had a couple of hours before it would hit us. Four loads of washing were done and about half of the clothes and linens were dry when it became apparent that time was quickly running out before a downpour would begin. I stuffed damp laundry in our large bag and Peter came jogging over to help push the dock cart more quickly. At a fast pace, we covered the distance (probably an eighth to a quarter of a mile) and arrived at Mantra just as the rain was beginning. We got the laundry down below and then sat in the pilot house and observed the storm as it intensified. Thunder roared ominously and a loud bang accompanied a lightning strike out over the water. (We hope that the large sailing vessel moored out there did not get electrical damage.) Right after that, the wind dramatically strengthened, and we hustled to get all the cushions down below. The gusts were blowing rain down the companionway. Rain was even entering the hatch on the inside of the pilot house leading to the aft cabin. We had to batten down everything. We are not sure of the strength of the gusts because we did not want to turn on the electronics in the storm, but the weather websites indicated gusts as high as 60 knots. The dock lines were straining and at times it felt as if we were in heavy seas. 

The storm played out after about two hours. It had greatly reduced the humidity, which was a great relief. We had a light dinner of quesadillas and enjoyed the stillness.

Today dawned clear and cool by comparison to the weekend; the temperature is in the low 70's and there is a pleasant, cool light breeze. I took some of the damp laundry to the dryer in the facility here in the boatyard (which is not as clean and nice as the one in the clubhouse at the main marina) and hung the other half of it on the lifelines to dry in the sun and wind. 

Lifelines as clothes lines

Peter is back to being busy. He has been down in the engine room working on the generator and electrical stuff. I climbed down earlier to help him monitor the current or voltage or amps or something like that for the battery combiner. Electricity and I have a strange relationship. At least some of the time I seem to be electrically neutral and magnetically charged. As I held the sensor on one of the screws at the end of a wire, I could feel a strong magnetic pull between the sensor and the screw, even though I was holding the plastic casing. It didn't happen with Peter. This is not the first time we have noticed that I am a strange phenomenon. Years ago when Matthew was young, we visited a science museum and there was a demonstration about electrical circuits. Members of the audience were invited onto the stage to form a chain by holding hands in order to conduct electricity from one end of the stage to the other, where a light bulb was supposed to light up. It did not. Everyone, including the museum demonstrator, was baffled. I don't remember why I sensed I was the problem, but when I got out of the line, the experiment worked. Bizarre!

Peter and I are both hungry, so I need to make lunch now. Later this afternoon, he will get in the bosun's chair and ascent the mast to install new sheaves, with me controlling the halyard to raise and lower him. We also need to determine why the depth sounder was not working when we sailed on Saturday. Luckily, we were in well-marked channels in an area where we have sailed before, but both of us still felt nervous without the depth display working.

 

Layering to as Little Clothing as Possible in Less than a Week

A little less than a week ago we still needed two fleece blankets and a light quilt on the bed. Last night we threw off everything but the top sheet. It has been in the mid-80's the last few day with humidity over 60% (YUCK!). Despite this, Peter and I have been hard at work getting everything ship shape.

Peter has been working on various projects, the major one yesterday and today being looking for gunk in the starboard fuel tank (there was not much) and cleaning it out. (We are able to pump all the diesel from the port tank to the starboard tank and vice versa.) He had suspected that the reason that the generator has never been reliable in terms of continuing to work after it is started was that there was dirt in the fuel. Over the last few year, he had already changed filters and done several types of interventions which had not solved the problem. Well, neither did cleaning out the fuel tank. It's back to the drawing board!

Yesterday, I applied oil to the teak rails, tried to get some rust off the swim ladder with only limited success, cleaned mold from the tubes running from the top of the pilot house which we use for rainwater catchment, and removed and thoroughly cleaned all nine dorades. (Dorades are cowl vents that can be rotated toward the direction of the wind. The wind is funneled down below. The vents sit on dorade boxes with internal baffles that divert seawater or rainwater to drains at the bottom of the boxes.) 

When I went to town mid-day for my Diet Coke, I noticed more new painted picket fences. Apparently, it is the time of year to display this year's contributions, which will be auctioned in the fall. There seems to be a trend away from two-dimensional artwork to layered, three-dimensional designs.

Front

and back

Mosaics and three-dimensional vines

Luckily, we had to quit working early yesterday because we were meeting some fellow sailors for dinner. Of course, we needed showers first because we were sweaty and I smelled of Mean Green and Peter of diesel fuel. We dined at Pope's Tavern at the Oxford Inn (circa 1880) in the dining room with the original tin ceiling. Our companions were Teddy and Anne Clucas as well as Marjorie, who is the port captain for the local chapter of the Ocean Cruising Club, of which Peter and I (as well as Teddy and Anne) are members. The owners of the Oxford Inn and the restaurant recently acquired the property, and the restaurant features Italian dishes, all made from scratch, using recipes the husband learned from his mother and grandmother. I ordered the ravioli, which may have been the best I have ever tasted. Everyone was pleased with the food they ordered as well as the wine. The five of us discussed boats and sailing as well as Oxford. I mentioned that I had researched the town's demographics and noticed that Oxford used to be racially mixed. Marjorie, who grew up here, made a slight correction. The town did use to have both whites and blacks, but there was little mixing. She recalled a time, probably more than half a century ago, when film producer David O. Selznick cruised into Oxford on his yacht. Of course, everyone in town was very excited, and her father invited him to dinner at their house. Selznick arrived along with his mate, a black man. Her father said he would never eat at the same table as a black man, so the mate was sent to the kitchen where he conversed with Marjorie's mother while she prepared the meal and ate his dinner there. 

Today was a particularly hot and humid day, and I spent hours of it on the dock cleaning the enormous boat cover which, when in use, extends from in front of the mast back to the pilot house and from one side of the boat, over the boom, to the other side. It is divided into two pieces, one being about 30 x 20 feet and the other only about 20 x 10. It's a lot of canvas! It was covering the majority of the deck while the boat was on the hard, catching a lot of pollen and dirt and, worst of all, bird poop. Of course, because this is a damp climate, it also had mildew. The grime was so imbedded in the fabric that it was impossible to remove, even with bleach. It felt like a thankless task, since the bird poop left stains of various colors and the mildew barely budged. I did not feel a sense of accomplishment. The only way to dry the canvas after the cleaning was to hang it over the mast. At least the intense sunshine allowed it to dry quickly. 

We took a break for lunch around 1 p.m. and walked into town to The Social, a coffee and ice cream shop that also has quiche and sandwiches. It is a lovely little storefront place and we sat by the window enjoying the air conditioning while we ate. I walked across the street for my daily Diet Coke before we returned to our work on Mantra. I had not yet finished with the bigger section. By the time we draped it over the boom, I was nearly suffering from heat exhaustion. When I went down below to wash up a little, I looked in the mirror and saw that my face was beet red. I stayed down below and cooled off for the next hour or so. When Peter reached a stopping point, we gathered up leftover food and our shower gear and clean clothes and went to the clubhouse. After nice showers, we heated our leftovers in the microwave in the lounge and ate in the lovely coolness there. 

The sun was low in the sky by then and it was cooler. We dropped our stuff at the boat and then walked around the docks to Scottish Highland Creamery, a very popular spot with locals and tourists. There are always some interesting flavors of ice cream. We enjoyed delicious sundaes overlooking the watermen's boats.

Back on our boat, we rolled up the second piece of canvas when it was dry. I tidied up down below while Peter puttered on deck and then, since it was cooler and there was only a light breeze, we attached the genoa to the roller furler.  Our friends Lori, Germán and Elizabeth from Washington, D.C. will be arriving in the early afternoon tomorrow and we want to ready to sail!

Work, work and more work

After I made my post on Monday, May 16, the weather changed. In the west, in the distance, we could see single white strokes of lightening heading straight to the ground. Unlike the storm a few days before, the thunder was more threatening, sounding like jet engines starting one after the other. The clouds were making beautiful patterns. I sat on the aft deck above the swim platform and watched and listened, reminded of the times my mom, my siblings and I would sit on the front porch to watch storms, unconcerned about the filigreed cast iron posts supporting the roof of the porch. The rain announced itself with a splat here and a splat there but then became a downpour, the drops making innumerable parallel vertical lines, pelleting the surface of the water and ricocheting back up. Peter and I sat in the pilot house enjoying the special light of a thunderstorm as well as the sounds. The rain fell heavily for 15 minutes and then passed by, leaving a spectacular full rainbow in the east, the first of the sailing season. We take special delight in thunderstorms (as long as we are not in danger) because they are extremely rare where we live in California.

Approaching thunderstorm

Hard rain striking the water's surface

Rainbow after the storm

After the storm passed, we went for a longer walk than usual, exploring back streets of this small town, finding more painted picket fence sections to admire and new flowers to identify.

Sunset scene

Nautilus

Tuesday was a warm and sunny day, and I was up bright and early to make breakfast for Peter. Then both of us set to work and continued almost non-stop, working to the point of exhaustion. In the morning, I did four loads of laundry. After making and enjoying a pasta dish for lunch, I laid out the reef lines on the deck and then scrubbed them hard with a stiff bristle brush to get out the mold and pollen that had embedded themselves in the strands. That took a couple hours. Then I moved on to cleaning the pilot house and the cockpit. Peter did various jobs in the aft lazarette and engine room and spent a good deal of time sorting parts we already have and ordering parts we need or might need since we expect to leave here early next week and there needs to be time for delivery. It appears that Peter is now focused on the end game!

At sunset around 8 p.m., we cleaned up our tools and put away the hoses and thought about dinner. There were soups to reheat, but, once again, no place to sit down for a meal. The cockpit was wet and the table down below was covered in parts. We walked the short distance to Capsize and enjoyed a meal al fresco. Peter had a local brew and I had a glass of white wine, which perceptibly increased my need for sleep. In a  slight daze, holding Peter's hand, I walked back to the boat with him. Unfortunately, bed was not an immediate option because under our bed is a large storage space, and Peter had raised the mattress and taken up the boards to access various things he needed throughout the day. We had to put all that back and then make the bed. 

Today dawned bright and clear and stayed that way until mid-afternoon, when clouds again obscured the azure dome. I set to work cleaning the windows on the pilot house, cleaning grime off electrical cords and a plastic inflatable solar light, cleaning teak in the cockpit, and wiping water spots off some of the stainless steel rails. I would have continued working longer than mid-afternoon, but the switch from brightness to gloom made me suddenly tired. Peter usually goes non-stop every day and lack of sunshine does not slow him down usually, but even he felt tired. (Well, we both had been working hard.) We took a break and played the card game Quiddler and ate some chips. 

Peter got the reef lines in place on the mainsail while I cooked dinner. I made another soup this evening, a melage of vegetables and herbs, and parmesan toast. Now we have three different kinds of soup to heat for a quick meal. 

Tomorrow should be warm and partly sunny, and both Peter and I have mental lists of what we need to accomplish. We are both eager to get underway.

STILL Here in Oxford

Last week's weather delayed one of the main jobs that Peter contracted with the boatyard to do, inspecting and repairing the rigging. All of last week, it was too windy and usually too rainy to go up the mast. This week, the weather on some days will be good, but now the yard has all the local boat owners pushing for their boats to be launched and masts to be re-fitted in time for opening day for sailing this coming weekend. Peter will probably have to do the job himself even though he would have preferred using a professional.

Our time in Oxford is beginning to seem interminable and the predominance of gray weather over sunny days is a bit depressing. Yesterday, it was overcast in the morning but with the promise of fine weather in the afternoon. I took my daily walk to the Oxford Market with the mission not only of obtaining a Diet Coke but of photographing some of the outside artwork around town. Since 2007, the Oxford Business Association has auctioned colorful painted scenes on a 4-picket section of the iconic Oxford fence. Local artists from Oxford, Easton and St. Michaels volunteer their talents and time to produce scenes representing life on the eastern shore of the Chesapeake. The proceeds from the auction support local charities and non-profits including the little local library, the town museum, and the volunteer fire department. Below are some of my favorites.

The sky cleared and it was shorts, t-shirts and bare feet weather by lunch time. Peter began before that working on installing a new engine exhaust hose. It's 3 inches in diameter and 16 feet long with steel reinforcements. I helped him maneuver it into position from the engine room through the aft lazarette to the exhaust pipe, and then he spent hours in awkward positions in not well-lit places getting it attached.

Can you find Peter?

Finally, the weather was conducive to scrubbing the filthy deck, a major job on a 56-foot boat. Some people are fair-weather sailors; I am a fair-weather cleaner, so I had been waiting for this opportunity. Six non-stop hours after starting--with only occasional breaks to climb down in the lazarette to give tools to Peter, who could not easily extract himself--I finished almost everything. It was a joy to be doing something physical and productive. I would have cleaned the pilot house and the cockpit also, but since the hatches to the engine and the aft lazarette were open to allow Peter to work, I didn't. I am not neat with a hose. Peter could have done my job without getting a drop of water on himself, but my shirt was sopping wet. 

After cleaning up our tools, at 8 p.m., both of us exhausted, we gathered towels, toiletries and clean clothes and went to the large and modern and spotlessly clean marina showers to revive ourselves. The large, bright, yellow-white full moon hung low in the eastern sky, and we were hoping to observe the blood moon lunar eclipse. However, lightening was flashing in the distance and rolling thunder rumbled as clouds moved in. At 9 p.m., it began to rain. We stayed up for about an hour even though we were extremely sleepy, in case the weather cleared. It did not. After dinner and a game of gin, we gave up hope and dropped onto the mattress to be lulled quickly asleep by the soporific sound of gently splatting rain on the deck above us. 

Luckily, I have been using some of my overly abundance spare time to make various soups, so I was able to heat up some homemade corn chowder quickly for dinner. For meals, I am pulling out old recipes from my files and searching the Internet for new ones. In addition to corn chowder, I have made my cheese potato soup and Brazilian black bean soup. I also created a new dish for Peter a couple days ago, pasta puttanesca with garlic, mushrooms, capers, kalamata olive and tomato sauce. (It was only for him because I like neither capers or olives.) Tomorrow I will make a big pot of vegetable soup since the Oxford Market, I noticed this morning, had locally grown zucchini and squash and I assume will have some tomorrow. Then I will try a recipe I have found for tahini spinach, perhaps over rice.

It is mid-afternoon right now and the sun is shining; the sky is speckled with cumulus clouds. However, there is a severe thunderstorm watch until 9 p.m., and there may be isolated tornados. The weather here is fickle and reminds me why I live in California and not in the eastern United States (or England!). At least it is no longer chilly.

Mainsail Is On!

Low-lying gray clouds, nearly fog, hung over everything this morning, but it was not chilly and it was not raining, so Peter thought it would be a great day to get the mainsail on. For a couple hours, we worked diligently, putting in battens and securing them and then, starting with the head, attaching the sail to the mast cars. There are about 16 cars, and we had finished with two when we sensed the predicted rain would begin soon. We heaved and flaked the mainsail from the dock to the port deck and got down below just before drops started falling. 

I made a beautiful spinach salad with apples, mandarins, dried cranberries, carrots and shredded cheese. (Peter's also had walnuts.) He would have preferred his leftover meatloaf from yesterday, but he had to wait for dinner for that meal. I'm sure the meatloaf was good, but I felt a bit insulted that he would prefer someone else's cooking to my nutritious and colorful meal.

As I was again helping Katya study for her final exam of this semester, Peter donned his rain jacket and proceeded to get the rest of the battens in and attach the sail to the rest of the mast cars, so that important job is done. At least there was no wind.

Mantra with the main on under a very temporary blue sky

It finally stopped pouring around 5 p.m., and I was suffering from cabin fever. Peter was just having his afternoon tea, so I left him to enjoy it while I walked around town and, later than I would have liked, purchased my Diet Coke. In just ten days, there have changes in the blooming flora. The white azaleas and the tulips are gone, but there are still plenty of irises and the roses are flourishing. The splashes of color along the streets help to alleviate the gloominess and are probably saving me from sinking into full-blown depression. That and the cottontail rabbits.

Azalea in bloom in front of the former bank building

Pink ladies

Flowering dogwood

Cottontail rabbit

Irises with raindrops

Yellow, white and orange iris

I do miss the California sunshine as well as the drier climate. The dishes do not even dry here! What I wash after dinner and put in the rack still needs to be dried with a towel in the morning. Oh, well! Sunshine is predicted for two of the next seven days. I will relish it.

Meatloaf at the Market Day

Yesterday (May 12) there was no post because the gray skies and northeast wind continued, and that did not seem worth mentioning. Peter finished wiring in new outlets and did some other work, I helped Katya study for a final exam next week, and there was no excitement anywhere. There was not even a sunset meriting a walk to behold it.

Today (We just realized it is Friday the 13th!) it was warm enough that only shorts and t-shirts were needed outside. The sun shone for much of the day. In the late morning, Peter suggested going to the Oxford Market again for lunch. It seemed to me that there were plenty of menu selections on the boat, but I was agreeable to going out. (Besides, I needed to go to the market for my Diet Coke.) Once we arrived, I realized why we went today. Friday is meatloaf day, and Peter had previously raved about it. He was in luck, because we arrived just in time for him to get the very last serving, with gravy, mashed potatoes and coleslaw. I ordered a veggie wrap, which was also delicious. We sat at one of the picnic tables on the sidewalk in front of the store to eat. There was a large pot of colorful flowers on each brightly painted table, and more flowers in flats and pots filled shelves separating the street from the sidewalk as gorgeous hanging baskets hung from beams. They all must have arrived this morning, because I noticed yesterday that the shelves were mostly empty and there were no hanging baskets. I suspect the new ones will disappear quickly also as there seems to be a mania for flowering plants here in Oxford.

Each day when I walk about town, I find something in bloom that wasn't out the day before. Today, we discovered large, vivid pink Chinese peonies with layers of petals; some of the blooms were accented with a middle layer of creamy white petals that were thinner and pointed, enclosing a few more petals of pink. We also encountered a large China rose bush with each bloom uniquely colored and striped. 

Chinese peony

Pink and deep red China rose

China rose in shades of red, yellow and white

China rose on same plant with more speckles

The wind was lighter today, and we were able to get the stack pack sail cover attached to the boom. We plan to arise early tomorrow, before thunderstorms arrive late in the morning, in order to put on the mainsail.

Mostly cloudy with gusty winds

When we are on the boat, we are much more aware of the current weather and the forecasts because they dictate what we can do and whether and in what direction we can travel. Right now, we still have maintenance to finish, so we wouldn't be sailing anyway, but all the other pleasure crafts, other than a couple out for a day sail, are still staying put. The watermen have returned to their trade despite the windy conditions. 

We have gotten into the habit of taking a walk each evening around sunset. Yesterday evening, there was another beautiful golden orange sky. As we walk, we also look at the flora, pondering the types. The app PictureThis is a great help to us. We found a beautiful tree covered in hanging clusters of white flowers, which we identified as black locust, which is endemic to only a few small areas of North America, mainly the Appalachian Mountains and the Ozarks, so it is not native here. 

Sunset with leaves blowing in the wind

Black locust tree by the water at sunset

Today, Peter worked some more on rewiring and finished rerouting some water pipes along the bulkhead to be able to prime the seawater wash-down hose on the bow for cleaning the anchor. I'm sure he did other things too, but I do not fully understand everything he does. He is just busy, busy, busy.

Meanwhile, I took my daily walk (weather permitting) through town. I admired some irises different than any I have seen before, ones that were not in bloom just a couple days ago. Also, I stopped in Treasure Chest, a lovely shop featuring high quality local artwork and artisan crafts. With no demands on my time, I stopped to talk with the owner, Joan, who makes exceptionally fine jewelry, discovering that she and her husband used to live aboard their boat, which they brought from Chicago through the Great Lakes and the Erie Canal to the East Coast to explore the Intracoastal Waterway. Then I went to the Oxford Market, where the  owner now recognizes me as the lady who comes every day around noon to purchase a fountain Diet Coke.

White and purple iris variety

Salmon, white, purple and orange variety of iris

Having finished my thorough cleaning down below and waiting for slightly warmer weather without a chill northeast wind to clean the decks and lines (because I always get myself wet when let loose with a hose), I occupied myself reading, studying Spanish and working on embroidery. At sunset, we set out to walk along the waterfront. The clouds were low in the sky and the sunset was not spectacular but did present muted shades of lavender. Peter decided we should eat out, so we stopped in the historic Robert Morris Inn for dinner. 

Mantra in the late afternoon light