Monday, December 6, 2021

day sixteen - back across the Bay

Sail off anchor 7:00, low overcast, a light north wind in the creek.  7:30 slipping out of Mill Creek and I sail just to the south of the marked channel, the same path used to enter the creek on a couple of days earlier.  A waterman is not happy with my course.  Coming off the Patuxent in a skiff he swerves into and then out of SPARTINA's path.  As he goes past he's gesturing, pointing the channel markers and saying something about shoals.  I'm baffled and don't know what his problem is, maybe he has a trot line in the area but I have sailed over many trot lines and it has has never been a problem.  I look back at him, get a glare as he raises both arms in frustration.   I keep sailing, sliding out easily on to the Patuxent River.

7:40 making 2.5 on the Patuxent.  Red marker "8" at 7:50 as we round the sand spit known as Patience Point.  The tide is with me but I can easily see that an opposing tide would require some patience.  Five eagles, two adult and three fledglings, stand on the sand spit - just beautiful.  Making 3.3 with five boats working oyster beds near the north shore.  

Sailing along Solomon's Island at 8:10, 3.0.  Passing the entrance channel at 8:15, 4.2 and a little sun breaks through the overcast while a steady stream of big boats, both sail and power, come out the channel from behind Solomon's.  

Drum Point at 8:50, 2.2 in chop where the river opens into Chesapeake Bay.  Out of the rough water at 9:40, 4.0 with a freighter in sight to the south.  

Soon I see a tug with a barge in tow to the north.  Both vessels pass well ahead of us, 4.4 sailing east towards Barren Island.  10:25 Barren Island in sight, 3.0.  

11:25 wind disappears, motor sailing as we leave the shipping channel. 12:30 main and jib down with rain showers to the NNE.  Wind is gone but waves are not, pounding into the chop under power.  Light sprinkles with showers around, making 3.5.

Approaching Little Choptank River 2:45, rain.  In the river at 3:00, rain moves on.  Anchor down 4:10 Brooks Creek.

Evening, the sun comes out.  Dusk, the cry of an eagle and the hoot of an owl from across the creek.

Penne Pasta for dinner

30.11 NM


1 comment:

Canoe Sailor said...

Great pictures and story. When I was growing up in Florida I thought of a waterman as someone who could sail, run a big powerboat, surf, ski, dive, and fish. Now I'm on the coast of North Carolina and they refer to commercial fishemen as watermen, but I feel something lacking.