Here is a highlight! We watched this beaver this evening for about 20 minutes, swimming under the bridge we were on, and then chomping on plants just a few feet away. Then a second beaver swam through the pond, carrying a branch the entire way. More on this later.
Here's another highlight -- a calm day today cruising 57 miles up the Potomac. It was a welcome relief after yesterday, my roughest seas of the entire trip. Janet and I truly have had a wonderful time, despite the rough seas yesterday.
My last blog posting had us leaving Yorktown to head north last Saturday. We had an uneventful, but hot, cruise out the York River and up into the Rappahannock River, to the town of Urbanna. It was a pretty harbor with a couple small marinas and about six boats and scattered crab-pot buoys in the anchorage. We found a nice spot and anchored, and then I took a swim to cool off. (This is a picture of the bay I took the next morning on my bike ride.)
It was such a pleasant evening, we decided to grill steaks and eat upstairs. But right as I was grilling and gathering the stuff to bring upstairs to the table, the wind abruptly changed directions and picked up intensity. I could see dark clouds heading our way, so I hurried to bring everything downstairs and close all the windows. It just so happened that in our original leisure, Janet was taking her shower during this sudden change of circumstances. She noticed out the head window that the boat was swinging wildly. Sure enough, after I got all the windows closed, I saw that I and my neighbor boats had all swung in the opposite direction that we had been, now facing the strong wind, and I was dangerously close to hitting them. I also decided I was dragging anchor. Oh my! It also started to pour buckets about then, with lightning and thunder galore.
I started up the engine, and tried to maneuver out of harm's way, pulling up the anchor as I did (which means my hand was on the switch that pulls it in). But as luck would have it, the anchor got caught on one of the crab pot lines. So I lowered the anchor a bit, hoping for the best. Sure enough, it got untangled and I was able to raise the anchor.
We tried three more times to anchor in a safer place, but the wind prevented us from doing it successfully. So I decided to just cruise slowly out of the harbor and weather this storm until the winds died down. I idled into the big swells in the wide river for about a mile, then turned around and idled back again into the harbor, as the wind was dying down. Although it was still raining hard, at least the eased wind allowed me to dock at an open slip in the marina. I'd had it with trying to anchor with boats and crab pots everywhere. Janet climbed onto the dock (in the rain) as I eased the boat in, and she tied us up! Finally we could relax, microwave the cold steaks, and eat the dinner we were so close to 90 minutes earlier.
It rained all night, with many lightning shows.
The next morning was sunny, calm, and wonderful, and we got ready to head farther up the Rappahannock to visit friends. The dockmaster came by to collect his fee, and we realized they had washing machines and dryers. So Janet did two loads while I took a bike ride and did some other chores. Then the dockmaster let us use his car and we went to a grocery store for a few things.
Finally we departed and it was a pleasant two-hour cruise to Bowlers Wharf, where we anchored in the main river just off where my friends have their cottage. We took the dinghy in to their dock, and finally got to visit what had been planned for about a year! The photo shows Breaking Away anchored off their shore.
This picture shows Bob Riggs next to me, and Ray and Sherry Collins. Bob has been a valued Charlottesville friend for 18 years. Sherry is his wife's daughter, and Ray is Sherry's husband. They live in Richmond. Two years ago, Bob drove Annette and me here for a visit, and we got to enjoy Sherry and Ray and their cottage then too.
When we landed, Ray had a fabulous chicken salad lunch for us, and Bob contributed a fruit pie. At one point, we decided to all go out to the boat for a tour. My first trip took Bob and Janet. By the time I returned for Ray and Sherry, a thunderstorm was threatening, so I stayed in to visit with them while Janet and Bob chummed out on the boat. Eventually it was calm enough to fetch Janet and Bob.
Then Bob drove us into Tappahannock for more grocery shopping. When we returned, I took Ray and Sherry out to the boat, but wouldn't you know, the thunder clouds quickly came in. We hustled back into the dinghy, but by then the swells were splashing and Ray and I got pretty wet on the short trip in. I had to borrow some of Ray's clothes while mine were in the dryer. We were rewarded with Ray's avocado/tomato/cilantro/onion...(and other stuff) dip! YUM!
For dinner, Ray grilled us fabulous pork loins, with a side of local squash. Eventually it was time for Janet and me to head to the boat for the night in the pitch-black darkness. I'd forgotten our flashlight and to turn on the anchor light, so Bob moved his car into position such that his headlights showed us our way back to Breaking Away. He's a genious!
The storm waves on the river were relentless and never stopped all night nor the next morning. This meant we could not use the dinghy to go in to say goodbye. We phoned and waved as we pulled anchor and headed back to the Chesapeake. What a wonderful time we had with these friends!
Now that it was Monday, we wanted to get all the way to the Potomac River and stay about 20 miles up, at the dock of some friends whom I know from Washington, D.C. There was a Small Craft Advisory out in the Bay, which was supposed to end at 1 pm, so we timed our arrival back to the Bay for 1:30. Sure enough, it was manageable out there, but it still was pretty rough and Janet was on sea-sick medication. So, I decided to seek shelter in Mill Creek, south of the Potomac.
What a beautiful decision that was! Janet finally got some relief, for a start, but the setting way back in the river was incredible. Tall trees everywhere, no wind, glassy water, cozy homes in the woods. After happy hour, we launched the dinghy and took a ride all up and down Mill Creek to view the scenery, the herons walking and flying everywhere, the homes, the coves, and the peace. That night we just sat outside and watched the full moon and listened to the fish jump. What a quiet evening, night, and morning we had in Mill Creek!
The peace turned ugly, however, once we returned to the Bay to head 7 miles north to the mouth of the Potomac. The swells kept getting bigger and bigger, and eventually the weather service issued a Small Craft Advisory. Since I was headed directly into the 3-ft swells, it wasn't THAT bad...yet. But by the time we got to the mouth of the Potomac, the swells grew to 4 feet and they came not only from the north, but northwest from the Potomac. Janet was downstairs asleep from the motion medication, so I was at least grateful that she didn't have to experience these conditions the whole time. My only option was to head NNW to the far bank of the Potomac, where I assumed I'd have protection.
It was the worst sea condition of the entire Great Loop trip. Luckily, the boat handled the swells and bouncing in a safe manner, and we had all the windows closed so that all the splashing water stayed outside. I was going slowly, so the 10 mile trip across the mouth seemed to take forever. I could not use auto pilot either -- too rough. When I finally got to the other side (in Maryland, the state where I began!), the seas still came at me from the direction of traveling up river. I poked along until I arrived at the first deep creek where I could seek protection, Smith Creek.
Oh what relief it was to be out of the turbulence! I couldn't wait to anchor and get some rest. Janet was able to get up and join me upstairs too as we entered the creek. My anchorage book told of a great spot just inside, in 8 feet of water. The charts showed it as 8 ft also, with a wide entry into the cove. Well, guess what? The 8 ft turned to 1 foot in an instant, and I RAN AGROUND! Oh no!!! (I later called the nearby marina to inform them about this so they could arrange to put a warning buoy there, and he just said, "Oh yes, we know there's a sand bar there." I couldn't believe it.)
I collected myself for a few minutes, and then checked the direction of the tide. It was lowering! Yikes, better do something fast. My only hope was that the propeller would still turn and not be stuck in the mud. I started the engine, held my breath, and put it in reverse. The prop was turning! I kept giving it more and more reverse throttle until it was almost at full RPM, and it finally inched backward until I was free! Whew! Didn't have to call the tow boat for the fourth time.
We gently cruised a little farther up the creek and anchored in another quiet cove. Finally we could relax and have some food and drink and rest. The Small Craft Advisory was scheduled to end at 6 pm, when waves were predicted to be only one to two feet. Since we wanted to get to mile 78 on Wednesday and we were only at mile 6 (up the Potomac), we elected to pull anchor and head back out and travel 20 miles to St Clements Bay for the night. It wasn't smooth out there, but was so much better than earlier. We dropped anchor just after dark, about 8:45.
This picture is of St Clements Island this morning as we departed our totally peaceful and pretty anchorage (sitting off some stately homes). We had a great night of rest and quiet.
See the tall 40-ft cross in the picture? St. Clements Island is where Lord Calvert first landed when he came from England with 140 others to establish Maryland in 1634. He didn't stay here long, moving back down the river to St. Mary's Bay. The cross was erected to commemorate this initial landing spot. The lighthouse there was pretty cool too.
Anyway, the Potomac River was a pleasure today. Light breeze, cool, smooth water. What a welcomed difference from yesterday.
This picture is of an old rusted hulk in a fleet of "ghost ships", about 30 miles from Washington, D.C. This Mallows Bay was a gov't-approved dumping ground in the 1920s for wooden steamships that proved un-seaworthy and were left over from WWI. They were rafted together and set afire. Their wooden remains became an artificial reef for fish, birds, plants and trees. Other boats, like the one in this picture, were dumped there in later years.
Here's another picture of the beaver we watched eating this evening. After we anchored in Mattawoman Creek here, 20 miles from D.C., we had our usual slushy happy hour drinks. But then we decided to dinghy to the state park dock and explore. A bridge went across a marshy area off the river, thick with grasses and lily pads. We spotted many turtles, a huge fish, and then...the beaver. It was so neat. He swam closer and closer to us, and finally right under us and then settled in to munch his dinner.
Every so often we had a symphony of tree frogs, which swelled up into a din of sound, and then die back to quiet a few minutes later. We took a walk through the campground, and generally enjoyed this evening. That is until we were invaded by billions of flying bugs, who somehow got through the window screens and swarmed all around the lights while I was writing this blog. I have stopped three times to turn on the generator so we could vacuum them up. Of course, we had to closed the windows completely, after Janet used her hair dryer to blow them off the screens. EEUUUUUU yuk. Luckily it's cool tonight so the windows can be closed.
Tomorrow it's Washington, D.C. and a Happy Hour party for all my old friends here I could muster up. We'll see a Hawthorne High friend on Friday. See ya then.
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