Sailing on the Chesapeake: An In-Laws Adventure

by John Wesley (with Connie Wesley)

Prelude/Rock Hall
It all began when our respective male and female fledgling offspring fell in love. In the course of “get-to-know-you” conversations in the wake of their wedding, my wife, Connie, and I, parents of Todd, discovered that Gary and Robin, parents of Amie, shared a mutual love of sailing and the excitement that invariably accompanies casting off toward new waters in search of fresh breezes. We learned that the Bonners had enjoyed sailing for many years, both small boat racing and large boat cruising, and regularly chartered sailing vessels from Haven Charters, out of Rock Hall, MD, to ply the waters of the Chesapeake. Would Connie and I be interested in joining them for a 4-day sail at the end of June? Does a bear have hair? You bet! We enthusiastically accepted—and thus began an adventure that rekindled our spirits and camaraderie, and expanded our friendship.

I am no stranger to sailing, having worked three summers during college as crew for H. Irving Pratt, Commodore of the New York Yacht Club, on his 56-foot racing sloop, Caper, during which we competed in the New York Annual Cruise each July and sailed the Newport–Bermuda and Annapolis–Newport races with a crew of 10. During my surgical residency, Connie and I sailed small boats in Boston’s Charles River Basin, and we day-sailed a 40-foot naval sloop on Lake Michigan when I was a staff surgeon at Great Lakes Naval Hospital. For many reasons, we’d been away from sailing for years since, but we were eager to get back into it and so were delighted to join the Bonners.

To help us prepare, Robin sent out a packing list suggesting equipment, apparel, and provisions for the four breakfasts, four lunches, and three dinners we would eat aboard. Connie and I immediately embraced the Bonner tradition of bringing Robin’s chicken corn chowder to serve for dinner one night, as well as lots of healthy snacks. We all packed light in duffel bags and wore Top-Sider–type deck shoes with nonmarking white soles, as required by the charter company.

We arrived on a Thursday evening at Rock Hall Harbor and boarded our charter, Wind Dancer, a Pearson 39-foot sloop. Connie and I moved into the forward crew’s quarters foc’s’le bunks, reserving the aft owner’s/captain’s quarters for Gary and Robin. When the Bonners arrived a few hours later, we all settled in, stocked the boat, and socialized with the help of wine and mixed nuts until 12:30 a.m. Because we were hooked up to the Haven Harbour Marina power outlets, we luxuriated in on-board air conditioning that first night and also took advantage of the showers in the nearby bathhouse.

Friday morning dawned clear and beautiful! I fired up the propane galley stove and poached eggs, then served them on thinly sliced ham for Gary and me, while Connie and Robin had yogurt and cereal. Coffee and green tea rounded out our meal.

Charter manager Dave stopped by after breakfast to run through the workings of the boat; review the nautical charts; demonstrate the nuances of the engine, head, and electrical/navigational system; and sign us out. Both Gary and I had read the ship’s manual the night before, so we were all set. We motored out of Rock Hall Harbor into a freshening breeze, set sail, and headed south. Once we cut the engine, the ”silence” of the whish of water parting before the wind-driven yacht was exhilarating! It was a perfect day: bright sun mixed with fluffy white clouds, and wind up to 20 knots. The boat was equipped with a roller-furling jib, and winches for lines and sheets efficiently installed just forward of the companionway. The four of us had no difficulty in handling the boat—as for me, it all came back in a rush! We all took turns at the helm and stretched our sea legs fore and aft, admiring the full length of Wind Dancer from several vantage points, with the beautiful profile of the Chesapeake shoreline opening up before us. The wind blew from the southwest, and we tacked back and forth, making our way down and across the Bay, under the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, toward the booming sailing town of Annapolis.

Annapolis
Annapolis boasts the U.S. Naval Academy and St. John’s College, as well as countless historic buildings. And—perhaps a little known fact—Annapolis was for a short time the U.S. capital! (It was also, infamously, a regular landing site for slave ships.) Sailors gravitate to the town. It’s generally acknowledged as the sailing capital of the United States and is site of the annual U.S. Sail Boat Show held each October.

We put in at Annapolis Harbor about 5:00 p.m., picked up mooring buoy No. 25, and settled down to a leisurely cocktail hour of wine, cheese, and crackers. We reviewed our delightful “shakedown” sail that had elapsed so smoothly and decided to explore the historically rich Annapolis seaport with dinner ashore. We hailed the harbor water taxi by cell phone—a far cry from the protocol during “days of yore” when a boatswain’s pipe or flags would have been used. I brought out my boatswain’s pipe, which I had learned to play during my summers on Caper and in the Navy, and had fun reproducing some of the traditional “whistles!” After a short ride by water taxi, we disembarked to wander the narrow streets of Annapolis, in search of a suitable dinner spot. But first a shower. The Harbor Master’s Dock provided just such an opportunity, with efficient his and hers facilities, and soon all four of us were cleansed of suntan lotion and perspiration from the day’s sailing exercise. That made dinner at the historic Federal House Bar and Grill (1830) that much more enjoyable.

Our postprandial perambulation took us through several more interesting passages, ultimately leading to an ice cream parlor for dessert. When the water taxi took us back to Wind Dancer later that evening, we all were happy to sink into our respective bunks about 11:00 p.m., well fed and exhausted. But not before we discovered that the mast-head light (required when moored or at anchor) did not work. I had brought a 360-degree LED battery light for night reading down below, and Gary successfully rigged it into a very satisfactory mast-head light, hoisting it up the main halyard. Finally, to bed!

Saturday morning dawned fair and calm after a cool and comfortable night. One of the best parts of sleeping at anchor or on a mooring is the gentle rocking of the boat in response to the motion of the tide and evening breeze. We breakfasted in like fashion and with the same menu as the day before, dropped our mooring, and motored out toward the Bay—only this time we had no wind whatsoever! We continued under power toward St. Michaels, our next chosen port-of-call on the eastern shore of the Bay, for several hours without a hint of wind, trying all of the antics that sailors invoke—my favorite being to whistle and scratch the mast!—all to no avail. Finally, I decided to take a 30-minute “power nap,” and voila! I awakened to a freshening breeze. Gary, Robin, and Connie had already begun to unfurl the mainsail and jib, and we had a very enjoyable beam-reach up the Miles River and into St. Michael’s Harbor.

St. Michaels
We dropped anchor at about 5:00 p.m., broke out the wine and cheese for about an hour or so, then hailed a water taxi and headed to shore. We wandered about, exploring the Harbor with the help of a brochure, “A Walking Tour of Historic St. Michaels,” and ended up at the St. Michael’s Crab and Steakhouse (a local favorite) for a delicious seafood dinner alongside the docks. While waiting to return to Wind Dancer by water taxi later that evening, we decided to tour the St. Michaels Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum on Sunday morning. Once back onboard, we spent another cool, comfortable night.

Up and about at 7:30 a.m., Gary and I were joined by Robin as we prepared our poached egg and ham “extravaganza”—now for three! Connie preferred her usual helping of Cheerios with fresh fruit and yogurt. We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast topsides on the cockpit table just aft of the companionway, made all the more pleasant by the almost complete lack of wind and our decision the previous night to spend a good part of the day touring the Maritime Museum onshore.

We were not disappointed. The museum is a gem! Its main focal point is the Hooper Strait Lighthouse, originally located 40 miles south of St. Michaels in the treacherous waters of (surprise!) Hooper Strait, and now the symbol of the Museum. The lighthouse's spider-like screwpile design was well suited for the soft-bottomed Chesapeake and became an icon of the bay. Of the 42 screwpile lighthouses built on the Chesapeake in the late 1800s, only 3 survive. Inside the lighthouse, we enjoyed photographs and artifacts that allowed us to imagine the day-to-day solitary life of a lighthouse keeper. Additional exhibits included several restored Harbor buildings housing historical displays that documented how the Bay has changed over the past 100 years from primarily a place of work to a place where people come to play. Also shown were a working boat yard, with several restorations in progress, and an oystering dock, replete with insight into the history, conflicts, tools, and people of the Chesapeake Bay’s oystering industry.

Most fun of all was our encounter with the floating fleet of Bay boats out of the past, including a bugeye, skipjack, crab dredger, draketale, wooden river tugboat, replica buyboat, and especially the three-log canoe. The last is a fully functioning antique racing sailboat, unique as a class to this part of Chesapeake Bay. The boat’s narrow, rounded hull (made from three large pine logs fastened together by wood pins and carefully hollowed out) makes it very unstable, and the crew must climb out on long boards to counterbalance the heeling force of its tremendous sail area. It is maintained and sailed in weekend racing regattas all summer long by volunteer crews—some of whom have been sailing log canoes for 20 to 30 years!

Earlier, we had watched and photographed three of the log canoes under full sail as they conducted shakedown practice runs in the Harbor. We were fortunate to meet upwith a log canoe crew member during a lunch break who, after spending 10 years as a “sailing widow” caring for her four children while her husband raced the Museum’s log canoe, now joins him as one of the Saturday/Sunday crew of 10—and she loves it! The name of their team is the Flying Pig! The story goes that one of their best sailors and now captain of the team vowed he would never sail a three-log canoe (when sailed properly they carry a tremendous sail area and are very unstable!) until pigs fly. Well, last summer they were regatta champs with their canoe the Edmee S. The Bay area boasts 21 functioning three-log canoes, and the competition is very keen.

Wye River
After returning to Wind Dancer and learning from the water taxi skipper that no jellyfish (nettles) had been reported yet this season, Robin and I took a refreshing swim off the stern. As we finished a light lunch, a delightful breeze came up out of the southwest, a true zephyr. We made ready to raise anchor and set sail, then spent the late afternoon jibing and tacking across the Eastern Bay, setting course for what looked on the chart to be an isolated and weather-protected cove off the Wye River. Again, we were not disappointed. It was an idyllic cove in the wild-looking shoreline, very protected from the southeast, with hardly any evidence of habitation. The depth-gauge registered 26 feet, and we dropped anchor for our last night aboard. Other than two sailing yachts a reasonable distance away (evidently with the same idea), we were alone and undistracted by Homo sapiens activity.

This was the night for Robin’s special chicken corn chowder, served with a delicious bottle of Chardonnay and preceded by a leisurely cheese and cocktail hour, during which I pulled out a mini-collection of airline-sized bottles of assorted single malt scotch to celebrate the occasion. One of the more enjoyable aspects of being anchored off-shore without television and other aspects of our highly technological land-based environment was the opportunity to exchange stories about our respective offspring and child-rearing. Relaxing and fun, it also gave us the chance to recount the events of our adventurous weekend. We played Bananagrams after dinner, read for a bit, and turned in for yet another rhythmic night’s sleep at sea.

Rock Hall and Home
Our final day dawned calm and fair. After breakfast, we began cleaning and packing piecemeal for disembarkation, planned for late afternoon. A light breeze came in from the southwest and picked up throughout the morning and early afternoon, providing excellent sailing conditions. Out in the middle of the Eastern and then Chesapeake Bays, we took turns at the helm and thoroughly enjoyed bringing out the best in Wind Dancer. For a yacht designed primarily for cruising and comfort, the boat pointed surprisingly well—about 15 degrees off the apparent wind. There’s something almost magical and exhilarating when holding the helm “in the groove” with the main’sal and jib perfectly trimmed, riding the puffs, and feeling the full thrust of the hull cutting through the water.

As we sailed up the eastern side of the Bay, we cavorted with a dolphin, way north of the usual waters of encounter at the mouth of the Bay, and spied several osprey feeding their young while sitting on large, unruly stick nests built on tall marker-buoys. We also had the opportunity to go through Kent Narrows—a winding passage under the bridge between Kent Island and the eastern shore—which Dave, the charter manager, had warned us could be treacherous and so to exercise caution. Gary saw this as a challenge, took the helm, and skillfully maneuvered us through the meanders and shallow spots, while the rest of us stood look-out and took pictures.

Alas, all good things come to an end, and we returned to Rock Hall Harbor to meet Haven Charters’ checkout schedule. Activities included coming alongside the refueling dock, pumping out the bilge, flushing out the waste-holding tanks, refilling and topping off the water and fuel tanks, and then finally maneuvering into our slip (No. 24 on Blue Dock). We completed our checkout, showered in the bathhouse, and packed the cars. Then, before heading home in different directions, we reconnoitered for a final dinner together at one of the Bonners’ favorite restaurants: Waterman’s Crab House, overlooking Rock Hall Harbor and the Chesapeake Bay. It was a perfect denouement to a wonderful 4 days of sailing and living at sea!

GLOSSARY OF NAUTICAL TERMS
Aft: Near, toward, or in the stern of a ship.

Boatswain or bosun (also bos’n or bo’s’n or bo’sun): A petty officer on a merchant ship in charge of hull maintenance and related work.

Boom: A long spar used to extend the foot of a sail.

Bow: The forward or foremost part of a ship.

Bugeye: A type of sailboat developed in the Chesapeake Bay for oyster dredging. The predecessor of the skipjack, it was superseded by the latter as oyster harvests dropped.

Buyboat: A large vessel (usually 50' or more) that went up and down the Chesapeake Bay and bought the daily catch from the skipjacks and other working boats.

Companionway: A ship’s stairway from one deck to another.

Down below: Below the main deck of a ship.

Draketale: A variation on the deadrise workboat, with a narrow beam and a rounded stern that rakes forward to the deck.

Dredge: An excavation activity or operation usually carried out at least partly underwater, in shallow seas or fresh water areas with the purpose of gathering up bottom sediments and disposing of them at a different location.

Fo’c’sle (forecastle): The crew’s quarters in the ship’s bow.

Forward: Near, being at, or belonging to the forepart of a ship.

Galley: The kitchen area and cooking apparatus aboard ship.

Halyard: A rope (line) for hoisting or lowering a sail.

Head: A ship’s toilet.

Heel: To lean to one side, as from the action of the wind.

Jib: A triangular sail set on the stay extending from the head of the foremast to the bowsprit.

Jibe: To change a vessel’s course when sailing with the wind so that as the stern passes through the eye of the wind, the boom swings to the opposite side.

Knot: One nautical mile per hour.

Line: Any rope on a ship.

Main halyard: The halyard for the main sail.

Main sail, or main’sal: The principal sail on the mainmast.

Mast: A long pole or spar rising from the keel or deck of a ship and supporting the yards, booms, and rigging.

Mast-head light: The light on top of the mast used when motoring under power at night, or when anchored or moored in a harbor.

Mooring: A permanent anchor marked by a buoy used for anchoring or making fast a boat.

Point: A nautical term: to sail close to the wind.

Roller-furling: To secure a sail by rolling it around a stay.

Sheet: A line (rope) attached to the foot of a sail used for trimming (adjusting) the sail to the conditions of the wind.

Skipjack: The skipjack is a traditional fishing boat used on Chesapeake Bay for oyster dredging. It is a sailboat that succeeded the bugeye as the chief oystering boat on the bay and remains in service due to laws restricting the use of powerboats in the Maryland state oyster fishery.

Stay: A large, strong rope or cable used to support a mast.

Tack: To change the direction of a sailing ship when sailing close-hauled (close to the wind) by turning the bow into the wind and shifting the sails so as to fall off (turn away) on the other side at about the same angle to the wind as before.

Three-log canoe: A fully functioning antique racing sailboat, unique as a class to the St. Michael’s area of the Chesapeake Bay.

Topsides: Up on deck.

Winch: A powerful machine with a crank and one or more drums on which to coil a rope, line, or sheet for hauling in (trimming) a sail.

Zephyr: A gentle breeze from the west (Zephyrus—Greek god of the west wind)

READINGS
Atlantic High. William F. Buckley Jr. (1982). A well-written narrative of an adventurous cruise across the Atlantic by one of our country’s well-known authors and commentators.

The Nagle Journal. Edited by John C. Dann (1988). A fascinating account from the diary of Jacob Nagle, sailor, from 1775 to 1841. He served in the Revolutionary War under Washington at the age of 15, and then embarked on a 45-year career as a sailor on privateers and merchant ships—taking him to five continents and across the oceans of the world. A great read based on the intimate record of a common man who lived an uncommon life.

On the Wind’s Way. William Snaith (1973). A noted trans-Atlantic racer writes of his adventures aboard Figaro III, a 46-foot yawl with a crew of eight, as they race from Bermuda to Sweden—more than 3,500 miles of open sea. A harrowing adventure!

Racing with Cornelius Shields and the Masters. Cornelius Shields (1974). An excellent series of vignettes by one of the most highly respected sailors of the 20th century, with guest chapters by Robert Allen Jr., Robert Bavier, Britton Chance Jr., Ted Hood, Buddy Melges, Bus Mosbacher, Olin Stephens II, Roderick Stephens Jr., Ted Turner, and Stephen Van Dyck—a veritable who’s who in the annals of 20th-century American sailing.

Sailing—A Sailor’s Dictionary. Beard and McKie (1981). A tongue-in-cheek lexicon that will bring wails of laughter. Great with after-dinner libations.

Two Years Before the Mast. Richard Henry Dana (1840). A narrative of an upper-class merchant-seaman’s experience as a common deck-hand on the square-riggers of the 1840s. A Harvard junior whose eyesight had been adversely affected by measles, he dropped out to “take the cure” of the rigorous life and healthy salt air. A wonderful read.

Yacht Racing Rules and Tactics. Gordon C. Aymar (1962 and later). An excellent introduction to the techniques and terminology of sailing. One of many introductory books on the market.

LINKS

Talbot County Chamber of Commerce


John Wesley is a retired pediatric surgeon living in the Chicago area with his wife, Connie. They now spend much of their time traveling to visit the four children they raised together and their five grandchildren, in Michigan, Maryland, Oregon, and California—that is, when they’re not planning and embarking on non–family-related adventures, such as camping trips in U.S. national parks, medical missionary trips in South America, and now sailing excursions. (See “Empty Nesters and Purposeful Travel,” by Connie Wesley in the Spring 2009 issue.) Who knows where they’ll end up next. . . .


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