Cruise track Details at end.

The World News section of the Washington Post was shaking, it's holder was shaking, in fact the whole cabin of Whim was shaking. Thirty knot gusts were shaking her rigging and the whole boat - while tied securly in her slip at Hartge Yacht Yard in Galesville, Maryland. This delightful, bright, warm Mother's Day Sunday was supposed to see Mel and Rick scampering across Chesapeake Bay toward the Eastern Shore. Though the desired course was broad off the wind, the thought of three to six foot seas rolling across the shorter course across the shallow flats entering the Choptank River was wet at best and tricky at least.

Mel had Whim ready to go. The Dartmouth Corrinthian Yacht Club (DCYC) burgee flew at the main truck, the Past Commodore flag flew at the mizzen truck (for both Mel & Rick!), and the Seven Seas Cruising Association flag flew at the starboard spreader. But Saturday's rainy low pressure system had been followed by a clearing sky and a rising barometer - "High after low, prepare for a blow!"

DCYC Burgee

A beautiful morning

Wind aft

Barometer rising!

So we decided to have breakfast, listen to a few more hours of weather reports, and evaluate our options. This year Hartge set up a wireless hot spot over the marina and Mel could sit below and check out the weather on the Internet. When you see a surface pressure map with 35 and 40 knot wind arrows, you know it's not nice out there. (If you look at the wind arrows on the south side of Long Island, you will see 35 to 40 knots - just where our Dartmouth friend Steve Blecher was trying to go sailing on his 53' J 160 Javelin this same day.) Mel had all of the electronic toys we might need arrayed on his chart table.

Breakfast...

... instead

It's a big blow!

Diskman, VHF, Stereo, Handheld, Satellite Radio & Cellphone!

Given the conditions on the Bay, we evaluated our options. The Rhode River is just 3 or 4 miles up the coast, and a good spot. (Funny, how we usually don't consider destinations near to us as being important while other people come from miles away to be here!!!) Whim was clean and ready. We did carry two sea kayaks aboard and lash them port and starboard, and launch the inflatable dinghy Whimper to tie it astern. Then, after a lunch break, we shoved off.

Which way should be go?	Whim's ready to go.	Clean cockpit	Ready for kayaks
"Let's go," says Mel	How true.

Easing out of the slip, we headed north out of the West River. Puffy, yes. Blasts from the northwest slowed us from 6.2 knots in sheltered water. As we worked into open water our speed dreceased to as low at 3.8 against the seas. Two happy teenages slid pst to leeward on their 5o5 - then had the audacity later to turn and set their spinnaker going back. but it was slow going into gusts over 30 as we passed our first possible destination of the Rhode River to stretch for the South River and Church Creek. Though slow going, it was just a matter of letting the engine do the work and doging the occasional salt spray.

Rick in 30 knots

It got progressively calmer as we worked northwest into South River. As we turned into Church Creek it was as iff there was hardly any wind blowing. We evaluated both braches of the creek an settled on the western branch, anchoring in a calm pool. The only evidence of our windward push was the salt evaporated on the dodger - which Mel set out to clear with wet paper towel and then Windex. In the afternoon sun we rowed out and took pictures of Whim nestled safely in the evening sun. That done, we settled back, made Mother's Day calls, and Mel grilled the steak while Rick made the salad.

Church Creek east...	looked good but ...	we went back ...	to Church Creek west.	Salt on the dodger
First water ...	then Windex ...	makes Mel happy.	Mother's Day calls.	Mel grilled steak.

A beautiful ...	evening from ...	all sides.	Rick took the pictures.	Quiet dock.

Zounds! Rick and Mel awoke at about the same time - a relatively late 0730. The Rocky Coast Roast wasn't perking, but the sun lit the cabin and both stretched after a good night's sleep. Certainly not South Beach, but lighter than many, breakfast was OJ and cottage cheese. Then Rick hauled the anchor up-and-down, Mel put the engine in gear, the anchor broke out, Rick hauled it aboard, and away we went out toward Chesapeake Bay. In the early moring an industrious osprey nailed a big fish back off our port quarter, struggled to get airborne with it and flew along to leeward to perch on a pier and enjoy a fine breakfast.

Starter Church Castles!

Old Customs House

Outward bound

Skipper Converse

Yesterday's northerly blasts were gone, but teasing puffs filled in from astern and we set the main, mizzen and jib at 0915 with the wind north by east, perhaps blowing six knots. Our course was for Knapps Narrows, the shortcut into the Choptank River without having to go south around the remains of the old Sharps Island. Motorsailing drove Whim easily a little over six knots. Dropping sails just offshore of Knapps, we were closely scrutinized by the many osprey familys nesting on the various channel marks. Mel remarked at the sprouting of new construction of large houses - maybe starter-castles - along the shore.

Mel's professional hail on channel 13 to the bridge tender was answered equally crisply. In a ballet choreographed between two professionals, Whim slid, pushed by a following tide, just under the rising bridge as it's rising arc provided mast-high clearance. Not a moment wasted for bridge tender or waiting traffic.

Momma Osprey	Help out of Knapps Narrows	$$$ with a view	Sorry guys ...	don't bite.
Great herons	Going up!	Safely through	Chesapeake Skipjack

Clearing the bridge and feeling our way out the narrow channel we elected to turn north into Harris Creek to explore and find a place for lunch. Since it was again dead upwind, we powered up past Dunn Cove to the upper reaches of the creek. Our treat for the morning was the 7th Day of Christmas - Seven Swans A-swimming. Of course they took off as we approached and we just caught a picture of them flying away. What better place than an unnamed cove to anchor for lunch. With the hook dropped, it didn't take long to chop up a Chef's Salad with the remains of last night's steak.

Harris Creek

7th Day of Christmas!

Lunch at un-named cove

Chef;s Salad

What more fun for a pair of sailors than to set sail from anchor without an enigne? Easy, do it while an approaching motor-sailor appears to be running aground astern of you to get to your anchorage! That we did. Rick hauled anchor; Mel unfurled the jib; Rick backed it. We spun to port, gybed and sailed past the motor sailor churning up mud and breaking free as they headed for where we had been anchored. It wasn't fast sailing, we inched along at under two knots against the flooding tide a few times, but finally we cleared Harris Creek and almost cranked up the iron jenny.

But that last bit of patience paid off and Whim treated us to a glorious 6+ knot reach east toward Broad Creek. She heeled gently to the breeze, the bow wave gently hissed and jib, main and mizzen filled to the firm cool northeast breeze. It held most of the way to Broad Creek, but gently eased until it was time again to power to windward.

Under sail ...

feels good ...

wind aft ...

easy going.

The options of where to drop anchor for the night were profuse. At least three main stems were options: San Domingo to the east; Broad Creek up the middle; Leadenham Creek to the east, and each with multiple options. We chose to safe San Domingo and its "back door" access to St. Michaels for another day, and headed up Broad Creek. Three miles of gentle turns brought us to its headwaters. Pretty, yes, docks and other boats, yes, so we turned back south - this was too developed for out tastes this particular evening.

Swinging west as late afternoon turned to early evening, we crossed now-glassy water toward the wind-rippled reaches of Leadenham Creek. Mel's familiar favorite, Baby Owl Cove opened to starboard, open and broad with just a ripple across its surface. Rick asked to push on one choice west to Caulk Creek; narrower, and somewhat more protected from the forecast southest winds of tomorrow. It also open to starboard and we glided in. One big ketch lay at its mooring near the opening, but farther in, not a boat marred the smooth water. We pushed in to the northern end of the last 8-foot deep pool. As we turned to set the anchor the forecast southeast wind rufflled the water. With the anchor down, we hoisted the mizzen to wind-vane into the wind and settled in for a great dinner.

Masion "Duck Blind"	Tucked in Caulk Creek	Nice boat	Neighbor
Proud Whim	Last light	Sitting pretty	Anchor light set.

Tuesday dawned clear and brisk with a south-southeast wind at 10 -12. After a breakfast of steak and eggs, we headed out of Leadenham Creek into the chop of Broad Creek and the Choptank River. Using GPS we skirted the shallows and worked east to "G 1" at the bottom of the Tred Avon River. Rolling out the jib, Whim rejoiced in being free and running north toward Oxford. Mel laid Whim neatly alongside the fuel dock and we replenished fuel, water and ice, and left garbage ashore. Then we motored back to the town dock, where the ferry from the "mainland" has been arriving since 1683! While not quite that old, we observed the "3 Hour Maximum" docking limit and walked into town in search of groceries to replenish the galley. Half a dozen brick-paved sidewalk blocks later we turned into a small general store.

Mel stuck his head back out the door and inquired of the two teenage girls there, "Are you laughing because I'm walking in with an empty backpack?" "No," they shot back, "we thought you were coming from school." Not to be daunted, we did our best in this minimal chandlery to source dinner for two days. Hidden in the freezer section were some beautiful Ahi Tuna slices, fresh asparagus was found on the counter, orange jucie in the cooler and toss in a couple of newspapers and we were reado to go - except they didn't take plastic. But, they did have an ATM sandwiched between the drink cooler and the freezer, so we paid our ransom and headed back down the street to Whim. (The girls had long since disappeared, probably with gales of laughter!)

Oxford ferry dock - oldest ferry in the US since 1683

Oxford channel & aground cruiser!

In beautiful sunshine we turned northeast up the Tred Avon to the next big tributary - Trippe Creek. An easy entrance into proected waters boardered with many of the now-common elegant houses and sprawling grounds. We worked our way to the eastern-most bight and dropped our hook for lunch. Just a simple sandwich, but tasted so good with the sun bright, the wind cool and the water sparkling.

Lunch at Trippe Creek	Lunch shack!

Rick easily hauled anchor once more, we rolled out the jib and eased west out of Trippe Creek. Turning north up the Tred Avon, red and green daymarks slowly passed abeam until we reached east into Peachblossom Creek. This slightly narrower carbon copy of Trippe Creek welcomed Whim into her seven foot water well east into her bosom. with the anchor set, we rigged shade over the cockpit and settled in to read the paper. Mel had an adventerous gleam in his eye and launched a kayak to explore into the shallow water east under the highway bridge. With a pair of walkie-talkies Rick kept in touch until Mel disappeared around the far bend. An hour later a hail raised Mel on his way back. "Do you have a recpie for swan?" was the reply. It seems Mel had intruded on private ground and this particular feathered friend was about to declare war. Hearty paddling secured Mel's safety and gliding return to Whim sitting in the sparkling reflections of the late afternoon sun.

All gear stowed, it was time for a few phone calls home, then relaxing into a gentle coktail hour of mixed nuts and fruit, pistachios, and jalapeno cheese and Carrs crackers. That was only to keep time until the wild rice, asparagus and Ahi Tuna was ready to serve as the sun slid slowly into the western sky.

Tuesday night - Peachblossom Creek

Our day's travels

Good anchorage

Mel decides ...

to explore ...

on his own ..

kayak bottom.

But the end of every good meal is followed by - dishes! As sunset faded beyond the trees our sliver moon from last night emerged higher in the deep blue dusk.

The ultimate test of a sailor is to come back to port the same number of times he left. In that vein, Rick & Mel tried to determine why the prior night the satallite radio (OK we're somewhat hi-tech) died while we were editing the day's pictures and writing the log with the computer plugged into the ship's power. One by one we turned on and off various lights, unplugged the computer, and various other loads on the sytem. It became clear that adding various cabin lights slowly added amperage and reduced voltage on the 12-volt cigarette lighter circuit until just refreshing a big file on the computer would drop the voltage the last critical tenths of a volt that the radio would shut down. Gads - the disciplines of modern conveniences.

Food taster - tuna & asparagus

Dishes!!!

Slowly wrapped in the blanket of evening, with the cresent moon dropping in the west, there was a special feeling of being both alone and totally wrapped into a lifetime of that special feeling that comes with being under way at sea or afloat at anchor. While we edited the day's pictures and text into the web page, a CD played in the background. Not just any CD, but one compiled by our forty-year sailing companion Brian Klinger who skeined together the various guitar songs we had sung under the loosly-knit name of "The Yachtsmen" more than 40 years ago. While some may not even know who the Kinston Trio, Chad Mitchel Trio, Arlo Guthrie, Harry Belafonte and many more were, in the warm confines of Whim's cabin, the echoes brought back decades of intense memories of joy and sharing great moments the Yachtsmen sang together.

A cool, gray morning with a damp south wind greeted us Wednesday morning. We hauled anchor after a simple cereal and banana breakfast - washed down of course with Mel's Rocky Coast Roast. Powering down the Tred Avon past Oxford we saw several cruisers - on trying to beat slowly against the southerly. We pased him quickly then started "racing" another yawl as we turned west into the Choptank proper headed back toward the Chesapeake. Main and jib flashed out, leads were moved and we quickly started gaining on our unknowing adversary. Alas the wind went fitful so it was back to motoring. But at least the sun has started to burn off both the low stratus and the thin upper cumulus.

Entering the Little Choptank about 5 miles south, we headed for Fishing Creek and its tributary, another Church Creek. the only difficulty was that Fishing Creek lay beyone a 5 foot ledge with a channel mark right in the middle of it. Though Whim only draws 4 feet with her centerboard up, this was going to be close. We edged up the shallow spot and crept across with a lowest reading of 7.8 feet. We had been hearing Coast Guard notices that the Bay waters were 1 to 2 feet above normal for the last two days - so we had a alittle cushion.

Once inside, we powered along the mile or so east until thurning south into Church Creek. This whole stretch had more development on both sides and wasn't much of a secluded or scenic spot - contrary to the cruising guide. Obviously a good number of the houses were new - good for them, but not for us. We had soup for lunch in a pool in Church Creek, then quickly departed.

Approaching Fishing Creek

More starter castles

Leaving lunch in Church Creek

Mirror smooth!

It was mirror smooth and simmering hot as we worked our way back down to Hudson Creek. Exploring almost its full 3-mile north-south length we saw what ambitious starter-castles grow up to be! Aside from a few swans, the erie thing as we passed a scattered mix of waterman docks, modest homes, starter-castles and the big house was that there was nothing moving.

Hudson Creek's swans

Castle!

Big enough?

Castle's boat.

It was like looking at a painting. No people, boats still at their docks. In total we did see one boat move and one person in an hour cruise up and back before anchoring at Casson Point at the mouth of Hudson Creek. An hour later one cruiser came in and dropped anchor to the east of us.

After a burger and salad dinner we listened to the weather one last time only to learn that they had added small craft warnings for tomorrow afternoon with increased winds from the north. Though we had been expecting - even hoping for - northwest to north winds, the increase in predicted velocity prompted us to Pull up the anchor and reposition so swinging on a long scope with a north wind wouldn't put our stern too close to the shore. That done we said good night to the sun, updated the log and turned in.

Little Choptank

Casson Pt. anchorage

The only other cruiser!

Sulky sunset.

After a burger and salad dinner we listened to the weather one last time only to learn that they had added small craft warnings for tomorrow afternoon with increased winds from the north. Though we had been expecting - even hoping for - northwest to north winds, the increase in predicted velocity prompted us to pull up the anchor and reposition so we'd have more swinging room with a north wind. That done we said good night to the sun, updated the log and turned in.

Rig-shaking puffs rattled us awake about 0400. Off and on for an hour and a half successive blasts announced the arrival of the cold front. Thursday morning dawned with the proverbial, "Red in the morning, sailors take warning." But by the time we departed at 0706, the wind had backed down to less than ten and breakes in the clouds were visible. As we worked our way across the shallows north of James Island the wind fell still further. We turned south in deep water and motor sailed past the Calvert Cliffs, the giant LNG dock, and Cove Point Light. A somewhat unusual hail on Channel 16 from the Coast Guard (not the usual weather radio) repeated the small craft warning - and suggested it had already started blowing hard at Baltimore, 40 miles up the bay.

Red in the morning...

Calvert Cliffs

LNG Dock

Unloading manifold

Storage tanks

Big structure!

Approaching Cove Pt.	Cove Point ...	Lighthouse

White caps started chasing us as we rounded Cove Pont for the 3 mile broad reach to Drum Point. Now with engine off, Whim romped along doing 7.4 as the increasing gusts funneled over the cliffs and fanned out on the water. It was a great, but short ride as we dropped sails around Drum Point to motor into Solomons Island. Solomons is a megalopolis of marinas lining every shore. At least a dozen are squeezed next to each other, stretching over a mile into Back Creek. We headed for Mel's favorite, Zahniser's. Professionally greeted by Terry, we were briefed and tied up before noon. It was scrub-down time, fore and aft to wash away five days of salt spray and mud from the anchor. Whim was ship shape and Bristol fashion once more. Now overcast, the wind once again was whistling in the rigging - but we were tied snug to our dock.

First Solomons dock

Next dock ...

Into Back Creek

Cleaning transom

At Zahniser's.

The afternoon was spent touring the Calvert Marine Museum which has the old Drum Point Screwpile Lighthouse as its centerpiece. The we returned to the boat, did laundry, took showers, and uplaoded the web page on the convenience connection provided at Zahniser's. How spoiled we get - it was a 56k dial-up and took about an hour to upload the 100 pictures we had so far. Then it was a nice walk to Stoney's Kingfisher for a delicious crabcake dinner, topped off as Mel bought soft cones for the walk back to the boat.

Friday morning we started out with a little lazy breakfast, waiting for ice to be available after 0800. Then we puttered on a few fix-it projects, and finally got under way at 0924. No rain, but we headed out in a raw east wind in the 10-13 knot range under a leaden sky - no sun this day. Crossing under the big Patuxent River bridge, we steered to port to pass Point Patience, which totally masks the wide river from the bay view, and headed for Mill Creek to explore.

With charted depths in the 8-13 foot range, this proved to be a very nice spot with several potential anchorages for a night. It had relatively few houses around the shorres, and those were neat, crisp and of modest proportions. heading north across the MIll Creek entrance, we entered Cuckold Creek which was more developed with a pair of marinas and many private piers. Our reward was at the head of the creek at Forrest Landing Cove which would also make a nice anchorage. Mel had not seen any of these before, so he was happy to find now options.

Patuxent River Bridge	Approaching Mill Creek	Snug corners...	handy way to ...	dry sail.
From the Cuckold Creek	Handy marina	Forrest Landing Cove

Back out into the river, we headed north, rolled out the jib, and made 6.8 knots for the Sotterley Plantation restoration. The last generation dock, as suggested by the guide books was indeed ravaged beyond any use. Approaching over a 5-foot spot was tricky enough, but the expected dock "around the bend" didn't look much better, and we spun out into deep water and moved upstream so we could look back over the shallows to assess the situation. Beyond a second point - 25 yards in - we could see a much better looking dock, with some canoers near by. We realigned our approach and started in. We kept left to avoid a 1-foot area beyond the 5-foot stuff, but got a bit too far left and the fathometer all too quickly clicked down to a very, very thin 4.1 feet before we were able to swing right back into deeper water. But then we were in 7 feet and rounded with no further difficulty to tie up at the dock.

Four canoes full of 5th graders and their guides were launching off the sandy beach at the foot fo the dock. We were greeted with a less-than-friendly, "Do you have a reservation?" After saying no, we noted there was a phone number to call for reservations so we suggested we'd tie up and call. After a few grumbles from one guide, Mel graciously and paitently worked his way through two people plus the head teacher, who happened to be sitting near the dock, to get permission. Not only did his charms get us permission, but they came down and drove us the half mile to the plantation propper.

Old Sotterley pier

Mel calls for OK

Whim secure.

Started around 1705 by James Bowles on about 2000 acres to raise tobacco, wheat and corn for his father in jolly old England. When he died in 1727, his second wife, Rebecca (Addison) Bowels, married George Plater II and they expanded the manor further from it's original and second expansion. The plantation passed to George Plater III in 1755 when he was age 20, and nine lears later, at 29 one year after the death of his first wife, he married Elizabeth Rousby - then 13 - and had six children, the first when she was 14. These were critical times - independence - and, as George was a delegate to the Continental Congress and held many important positions, Elizabeth effectively transformed the manor into an elegant estate. Her husband became the sixth Governor of Maryland in 1791, shortly before he died in 1792. George Plater IV inherited the plantation in 1792, and George V did so at age 6 in 1802. It passed to the Briscoe family in 1922 who ran it through the Civil War until 1887 when it was abandoned until purchased by Herbert Satterlee and wife Lousia (daughter of J.P. Morgan). They restored the plantation to it's apex form as much as possible, and it was maintained by their daughter Mablel until transferred to a foundation in 1961.

The Plantation

Entrance gate

The Manor ...

Governor Plater

Original front

It was fun to tour the manor and outbuiltings to see life as it evolved over 300 years. At one point we watched gusts of wind sweep in waves across the fields stretching down to the river - now growing hay as a cash crop - and recalling the "amber waves of grain" expression. It was a fun place to visit.

Customs House	Barn	Corn Crib ...	Cooper & carpentry	Slave cabin
English Garden	View across Patuxent	Entering St. Leonard Creek

After a quick soup lunch, we powered across the river into St. Leonard Creek and began exploring all of the major coves for two miles up the river. Many would have been suitable for a snug anchorage, and there were a few nice boats tied up along the way.

At breedens Pt. ...

Nice swan!

Rollins Cove

Months ago, when this trip was in the planning stages and we were focusing on southern destinations, Mel recalled a "famous" old restaurant that he had heard of for many years - Vera's White Sands Restaurant. Vera spent 40 years in Hollywood, traveled extensively to Polynesia and the far east, and was a successfull business woman too. This restaurant, on St Leonard Creek, combines both into one flamboyant place! As we read various cruising guides, Vera's appeared over and over again. Mel had called to see if a reservation was required - only to learn that they were only open Friday to Sunday until Memorial Day. So we revised out whole plan to be there on Friday - the 13th as it tuned out. And now we were there.

Vera, whose age is not exactly known but is likely in her upper 80s or lower 90s, has her white house next door to the restaurant. It's modeled after the Taj Mahal, and has a large pool in the marble floor of her living room. Below the restaurant is her marina - sparsely filled now to leave room for transients (who pay more) when the crowds start arriving after Memorial Day.

All of the pictues below were taken when we arrived about 1630, and had walked up and talked with a very poised young woman who turned out to be the daughter of Dr. Selvin Kumar, friend of Vera's and now the manager of the restaurant. She graciously let us take pictures, and we promised to be back for dinner later. Dr. Kumar met us just as we were leaving, and recalled the conversation with Mel about bringing the crazy Californian to see Vera's.

Approaching Veras ...	White Sands restaurant ...	and home.	Mel checks it out...	Wow!
Front Door	Shell canoe	Fountain guard	Wall of fame.
Tiki bar	Cosy booths	Giant clam	Whim at dock.

We were not too surprised to find just one person at the bar and us as the only restaurant patrons - given the early season and the cold, windy night - not exactly an invitation to Polynesia! But we were warmly greeted, seated at a prime window location where we could see Whim at the dock, and ordered the shrimp curry special, and Rick added a Vera's martini. Another foursome came in, two more and then a threesome. It turned out we were served by another of Dr. Kumar's daughters and we learned more of the extreme seasonality for the restaurant - from a handfull of patrons to 150 at a time.

As we were leaving we walked through the Tiki bar to again thank the daughters and Rick asked if by chance that was Vera sitting at the end of the bar with her father - yes it was. A picture and more good conversation ensued, with Dr. Kumar giving Whim a copy of his new book of poetry, "Great People & Greatest Moments", (he had written one about Vera previously, "The Legendary Vera - A Life of Glamour"), and even autographing it for us. What a night!

Happy campers!

Dr. Kumar & Vera with her signature martini

Dr. Kumar's book ...

autographed.

It was already after sunset on this already dark day as we headed down the dock to go anchor for the night. But we both had great smiles on our faces and had thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. Trying to capture one last twilight glimpse as Whim departed the dock, the low light and zoom resulted in a bit of a blurr - but maybe that just adds to a special night!

Dressed to kill.

Good Night Vera!

The cabin had a warm, cozy feeling Saturday morning when Mel handed Rick his coffee at 0610. Mel had also put a small starter log in the ship's stove (not the galley) to drive out the cold and damp. The forecast was for highs in the 80s, but with a raw southerly wind it was anything but as we powered out of the Patuxent.

After clearing Point Patience and the bridge, we set sail and enjoyed having first a beam wind, then wind aft as we passed Drum Point into the Chesapeake. With clearing skies and a little warmth the wind came and went, so we kept the engine running for a while. An LNG tanker was just leaving the giant dock, so we had a little show to watch. Finally it started building - they had predicted small craft advisories - and we rested the engine, set the glorious mizzen staysail and romped along at between six and seven knots. Our plan had options: if we were going slowly or the threatened rain arrived, we'd head into the Choptank for Dunn Cove; if we were moving north quickly, we'd hold on for Eastern Bay and the St. Michaels area. Good it was, and off we went. Just about Knapps Narrows the wind went dead aft and light so we started the engine again and kept on. We happened to hear on the radio that the bridge at Knapps Narrows was at least temporarily stuck anyway. Having had our share of land at Solomons and Veras, we elected to tuck into Hunting Creek off the Miles River where we anchored in a beautiful little cove.

LNG tanker.

Staysail time!

Pretty

Hunting Creek

By now it was indeed hot - low 80s as predicted, and cooking the planned spaghetti dinner didn't help as the cabin temp soared over 90 - so we ate on deck in what little wind there was. Right across Hunting Creek was a fine house, expansive lawn and was obviously all set up for a big party - tent and all. Thanks to 10-power optics, we vicariously joined the party.

Party time ...

with tent ...

and music.

Party people

After our ten hour day, and droping the hook at 1703, we declared happpy hour and nibbled while starting dinner. Though the sky was blue above, with a quarter moon on high, the unmistakable rumble of thunder caught our attention. A few minutes later the automatic weather alarm on the VHF radio went off with a severe thunderstorm warning message. The first one was in western Virginia, but it was not long before alerts were almost continuous as storms popped up from Philadelphia to the Carolinas. We watched as one that had been over Washington DC slid slowly past to the north with dramatic black skies and a most unusual cloud formation. All we got was a very welcome cool puff of air that lasted about two minutes - just time to scramble and close the ports, only to open them again five minutes later.

Overhead, but ...	Threat astern ...	Funnel?	Weird.
8 miles away.	sliding past ..	looking dark ...	Puff in this cloud.

It's not smart to think you've somehow bested Mother Nature! No sooner had the above been written and stowed, with the light gesture of a little puff from this massive storm. From the first distant rumbles of thunder around 1745 to the pictures above about 1930 lightening had slowly increased. As the sun set about 2015 more black clouds filled in to the west and lightening increased. for the next hour Mother Nature's sound and light show built into a crescendo with almost continuous flashes by 2125.

By now the cushions were stowed below, and the ports which had been opened after the first "false alarm", were closed again. In the flashes a roll cloud could be seen closing in, and the wind line soon raced the short distance down the creek toward us. Whim sailed in the first blast, then pulled up short on the anchor line. As the wind shifted and built she surged back and forth as if trying to hide from each gust - and we looked to see if the anchor would still hold her as she charged back and forth. As this dance steadied, the rain arrived first as a shower turning to a fire hose. The bright lights of the party house faded to a dim dull blur and more distant lights were gone in the black. Gusts around 35 shrieked through the rigging and turned rain and water into a white froth. A loud staccato pelting on the cabin top announced the arrival of the hail. Yet in fifteen minutes the roar subsided, the rain lightened and the wind eased - just in time to stick a nose out the companionway - still in the shelter of the dodger - to look around. As a final reminder of who is boss, a blinding flash and almost instantaneouse thunder crashed into the shore a short distance astern. And then it was gone with fading rumbles departing to the southeast.

Sunday's forecast was for more of the same - southwest winds with showers and thunderstorms in late afternoon. But the morning was cool and overcast with ragged stretches of stratus still riding a southwest wind aloft, though it was northwest on the surface. A lazy breakfast and a few chores and we headed for St. MIchaels to get fuel, water and restock the galley. Departing just before noon we crossed the Miles River into Leeds Creek and explored a couple of coves before settling into one for a Chinese lunch.

Selina inbound St. Michaels	St. Michaels	Screwpile lighthouse at the museum
Classic	Skipjack	Head boat!

Now Rick, being the cook, usually didn't do the dishes, but, hey he's a nice guy so he volunteered to do the dishes while Mel cranked up the engine for the Wye River and our evening's anchorage. He even volunteered to get Mel's rain gear and offer navigation tips, warm and dry from the computer below. What a good guy Mel is, he slickered up, snugged a heavy, wide-brimmed black oilskin hat on his head and smiled into the the increasing rain shower. About an hour later we were into the Wye, and the rain stopped in time for Rick to come up and drop the anchor.

Our cove held nine foot depths well into Wye Island and as we rounded to drop out anchor we found ourselves exchanging stares with a big pair of swans and their three fluffy gray cygnets on the beach. All afternoon, as light showers dimpled the cove, the swan family enjoyed teaching the kids all about gracious dining. We settled in down below with a steaming pot of tea and copies of the Sunday New York Times and Washington Post. A great way to spend Sunday afternoon!



Some nibbles preceeded Mel grilling a nice steak back aft to match the salad and mashed potatoes ready below. One last sprinkle just added a finishing touch to the ruddy sunset through the trees; the swans headed for their sandy beach.

Hi guys!	Yes, they're funny lookin'	A perfect Sunday!	With Treasure Island on the front page	What's new?
Dinner time.	Red at night ...

A sailor's delight it was. The subtle click of the lighter as Mel dropped a starter log into the cabin heater at 0515, as false dawn gently eased the dark in the cabin, was a signal to roll over and catch another 40 winks. Shortly after 0600 the Rocky Coast Roast was ready, but a delight to sip in the bunk - no need to rush this morning.

Don't know who was first, but as we came on deck after breakfast, the swan family was eating astern - and yes there were four of them. We oiled some blocks and lowered the jib to put some new tellatales on it. Then we hauled anchor from Comet Cove - named by Mel & Molly for an evening of doing jsut that - and were off for the day's adventures.

Cabin heater ...

cozy warm.

Mornin' swans!

Yep, there are four.

Comet Cove

Sparkling sun danced on the ripples from the crisp northwest wind as we worked clockwise around Wye Island. We rounded the western end and headed north up the Wye propper. We poked our way into the jost promising coves and captured a beautiful great blue heron who was also window shopping!

Hatch rain shield

Great blue ...

on the wing.

Grapevine Cove

Boat lifts for power boats were everywhere, but finding one for a large sailboat showed just how creatively this technique can be employed.

Big boat lift ...

looks ...

OK

After lunch well up the Wye, we set sail southbound with the northwester pushing us. It was a lazy sail, between 2 and 4 knots, but glorious none the less. At the mouth of the river we set the main, hardened up and close reached across Easter Bay to Tilghman Point, and tilghman Creek for the evening. It's entrance is very narrow, but there is good water once inside.

Tilghman guard house

Entrance

Secure by 1534, we stowed our gear, then decided it was time for an expedition with the kayaks. Lewis & Clark... errr, Rick & Mel, launched the red and yellow torpedos and set out to explore Tilghman Creek. Swans, as you have noticed, seem to own these waters. So even here there were at least two families that protested our intrusion into their territory - and at their level too!

Ready to paddle!

Rick's roundup?

Beat it buddy!

Poor Rick.

An hour of paddling later we returned safely to Whim and settled in for nibbles and dinner - pork chops and broccoli with apple sauce and horseradish.

Retired fleet

Safely home ...

Bottoms up.

After nine days of having every anchorage to ourselves, tonight another boat, Suzanne arrived just as dinner was about to be served. They made three or four attempts to set thier anchor - all dead to windward of us - before getting a good hold and settling down for their own dinner. Look very closely at the close-up of their foredeck at the bottom left corner of their cushion and you will see the tips of the flames of their grill! If this was not enough, while we were eating, yet another boat dropped anchor astern. Then, a whaler motored by with a great dog up forward to check out this little fleet! Their goes the neighborhood! But it promised to be another beautiful night for everyone.

Company ...

cooking on foredeck!

Another visitor!

Tilghman sunset.

A few unpredicted gusts in the 15 -20 range swept through Tilghman Creek during the night, and Mel stuck his head up to be sure the anchor was keeping its tight grip on the mud. Having gone to bed, as usual around 2000, there was still over eight hours of bunk time when we arose for breakfast about 0645. With no particular place to go for the day, we enjoyed a scrambled eggs, Little Smokies and English muffin breakfast.

Morning dog walk

Breakfast for champions

Under way at 0840, we slowly threaded our way out the narrow channel against a cool north wind blowing about 10 -11 knots. Only then did we discuss where we might go. The choice was to explore Crab Alley on the northwestern side of Eastern Bay. Rick's computer's track device had given up the ghost last evening, so we could not plot routes on the computer - not a big deal, and in fact it was fun pulling out triangles and sliding them around the charts to establish courses. The GPS tracking still worked and we could see on the chart where we were, so there really were still two systems working (not to mention about three other backup systems we could have used if we wanted!)

Crab Alley approach

Crab Alley man!

Swan convention in foreground

Still at it

More!

A first we thought we'd get a great sail for the day, but by the time we emerged from Crab Alley it was already getting very light. Turning southwest, we headed down Eastern Bay to Kent Point, then turned for the West River and Galesville. Mel had been trying to located James and Ellen Forsyth on the Valiant 40 Moonshadow, but they did not have a cell phone and only communicated via email. By pulling into Galesville, Mel thought they might be there, or at least we could check email and see if we could locate them.

Arriving in Galesville shortly after 1300, Mel did indeed find an email that they were in Weems Creek off the Severn River, just above Annapolis. So we shoved off and headed for Annapolis. As predicted, the wind had hauled east and we were able to add sails to engine and had a glorious motorsail - as far as Thomas Light. As the course turned north and west, the wind was far aft and the sails were once again furled as we continued under power.

Only working screwpile ...

Thomas Pt. Light

Annapolis head boat ...

tacking.

Number 2.

Annapolis is one of the quintessential sailing places. Not only the capital of Maryland, with the state capitol dome visible from the Bay, but it's home to the US Naval Academy and the impressive Bancroft Hall with its more prominent dome prominent from the water. Throw in lots of tourist boats and you get the picture. We threaded our way through the myriad channel marks to Weems Creek and did indeed find Moonshadow - though no one was aboard when we arrived.

US Naval Academy ...

sailing program.

Academy Buildings ...

dome and tower.

It wasn't long before James and Ellen, and little Cruiser the Dog, came by and accepted our invitation for dinner. Mel did chicken on the grill, Rick did the green beans and fresh baked rolls, Ellen brought the salad, and we noshed on nibbles beforehand - as usual. It was a delightful evening swapping stories about cruises, particularly their stay in the Caribbean since last November when Mel helped them sail the boat down.

Moonshadow

Looking good

Cruiser

James & Ellen Forsyth

with Cruiser.

Once again very light winds were forecast, so we elected to explore all the nooks and crannies of the Severn River. No other river on the Chesapeake has as many fine hurricane holes - small sections of water totally protected from wave action and reduced wind from high trees or bluffs. We poked out way into at least half a dozen over about four hours - though the length of the river is about six miles in a straight line.

Up the Severn	Chase Creek canoes ...	prams & ...
far left end ...	right side ...	bitter end.

Beautiful estates with grassy lawns, fine docks and impressive boats mixed with old boats and run-down docks. Here as in few other rivers, deep water was often very close to the bank. We even came across James and Ellen's prior boat, Vignette, moored in Hopkins Creek off Little Round Bay. We stopped to pass the word on our way out of the river.

Carrollton Manor &	Forked Creek	end cove &	exit view.
34 Gosslings!	Wise old osprey	James & Ellen's prior ...	boat Vignette

We powered back to Galesville to catch the fuel dock while it was still open and filled the tank - so we would not have to do that tomorrow on our last day - then headed for the Rhode River. A nice ten knot easterly had filled in and we set all sails for the five mile trip. Coming in we tacked down wind, then rounded up under sail to set the anchor. A perfect way to wrap up our last night at sea.

Rhode River - High Island!

We practically stuffed ourselves trying to work down the last of our larder. Nibbles included pistachios, olives, pickles, carrots, and celery (with a little peanut butter) washed down with diet root beer. Below Rick chopped the last of the radishes, celery, onion, green pepper and cucumber in the salad bowl, then salvaged the last of the lettuce. The remaining onion got smushed into the hamburger patties. The last of the milk and butter went into the last of the mashed potato flakes (yes, the same box we had started on the 2003 cruise!). Hey, it's easier than trying to lug it all home.

Last sunset!

Mel made one last pot of his special coca-coffee mix and we reflected on what fun we'd had, the whole range of territory we had covered, and only an hour of rain - for Mel!

The last of the cottage cheese and orange juice, with pennyed kilbasa, were breakfast - but Mel still had a stash of Rocky Coast Roast safely aboard. We motorsailed with just the jib and a nice morning northerly the short distance back to Galesville, arriving at 0806, and tucked Whim safely in her slip.

Our dinghy Whimper had faithfully followed us the whole way, and now we carried her back ashore to rest on a rack until another adventure. Finaly log entries were made, Rick's GPS and computer stowed, and laundry and duffels stacked in a dock cart. The deck was scrubbed down fore and aft, as was the galley and head. We packed the few remaining food items in Mel's cooler, then it was time for showers.

With all that accomplished, we headed out for lunch, then Mel dropped Rick at BWI for his flight back to California. It was one great trip! We have provided below screen shots of the various sections of our cruise - as you can see we touched many corners, but as Mel says, there's a lot more to see!

Cruise track

Severn River	Galesville, Rhode & South R.	Eastern Bay
Choptank River	Little Choptank	Patuxent River.