From DC, we motored and sailed to Annapolis. We passed through Tilghman’s Island, and walked the small town there (enough time to buy some ice cream and pet a dog), and then sailed through lovely conditions to reach Annapolis right as a big storm hit (gale winds and lighting). We decided to take a mooring ball, and wait out the weather.
Annapolis proved to be a lovely city to visit, and as you might imagine, very into boat culture. Every night there were small regattas and sailing lessons, chartered sunset cruises and fishing boats on the way out and back. There was even a mock pirate ship- chartered for groups of kids- that would chase after a small dinghy and shoot the character-villain with broadsides of mounted water cannons (the squeals of glee could be heard across the harbor) . On our first morning, a rag tag looking teenager asked for a tow and when Paul asked where he just pointed in the general vicinity of the pirate ship. Paul obliged, and once he dropped him off he heard him hamming it up and screaming for mercy from the barrage of water guns.
Not that any one would complain of being soaked by water guns. Annapolis was hot. Not DC hot, but hot and sticky enough to slow us down and make us grateful for air conditioning, which we found in the bars and restaurants that sold $1 oysters and local beers. The muggy air was always charged, and a thunderstorm could roll through and soak every thing, putting two inches of water in our dinghy, only to have the pavement dry 10 minutes later. The cicada song is actually the sizzling sound of summer. Usually highs of high 90’s, with 50% or more humidity.
We moved the boat off the mooring ball and into a rolly anchorage, in our attempt to save one mooring fees. We sacrificed comfort and had some of the rockiest nights at anchor that we’ve experienced in awhile, enough to keep us grumpy and sleepy eyed into the next morning. But that left money in the budget for dozens of oysters, of which Paul merrily stacked after eating, loving the sound of the shells as he tossed them in a pile on the tray.
Maryland is beautiful. We found and used a community center gym that had beautiful well kept grounds of forest. Mallards walked on our dinghy and begged at the piers for bits of ice cream cone. Ospreys made their high pitched peeping calls out to their mates and their babies, their nests aloft the navigational posts. This is a state that prizes its natural beauty, with trees growing tall and patches of flowers everywhere.
On our last day we toured the United States Naval Academy. The new class of freshman (plebes) had just started 2 weeks ago. The grounds were impressive and historic. We learned a lot on our walking tour, all the while seeing small groups of 18 year olds learning to march. Every morning we had woken to the drifting call of reveille reaching the boat at anchor, and every evening closed out with the sound of retreat as the sun set over the “Yard.” It was very interesting to see this life up close. I sent my dad, a Lieutenant in the US Navy, many photos.
We’re halfway to Philadelphia now, and slowly making our way out to the sea. It was staggeringly hot today, and Paul and I took turns being inside with our makeshift air conditioning below while the other braved the sun and sweat. There was almost no wind for sailing, so the muggy air barely ruffled our hair and the sweat dripped under our sun shirts.
This looks like I imagine East Coast summer camp to look, with small sandy beaches along the river, where ducks cool their webbed toes, and bald eagles sit in the green trees. Deer munch on manicured acres of lawns in front of fancy houses, and thunder in the distance tells us it will rain again soon. Osprey and egrets and swallows and bald eagles, dragon flies and fat black flies, crab pots dot the water and keep us on our toes. We find an anchorage next to a sandy shore, no swell to speak of, no wind to speak of. We’ll be sweaty tonight, but without the constant rolling and squeaking of a boat, I think we’ll sleep in peace hearing the bird sound. Tomorrow we leave Maryland for two other states and take the C&D canal from the Chesapeake to the Delaware Rivers.
xo
lindsay and paul
(PS I like the rivers, but I am tired of the mud and long for the salt)
TIBURON MARINO 