Friday, May 31, 2019

Cape May to Atlantic City

After the storms of the last three days a drier spell rolled in this morning. Seas were a bit rough early, but all predictions claimed things would get better and better as the day went along. I'm happy to say that was true.

Russ and I went to a pancake place in Cape May (really great little beach town, by the way) then started engines around 9:30 am. We were underway by 10.

Inlets are always a bit tricky, and the one from Cape May into the Atlantic was no exception. Bumpy and churned, we bobbled a bit getting outside. Once we were there and made the turn up the coast, the ride smoothed considerably.

While the seas were 2 or ever 3 feet at times, we encountered nothing but swells. No waves. Which meant we trundled a bit, rolling along the water. Sun was shining, air was warm, and we could see the coastline the entire way.

Atlantic City on the horizon.
We decided to make use of an anchorage right across from the city. We dropped anchor near As You Wish (who left left earlier in the morning to get here). John suggested we raft together for the night, so we did. But by 7 pm we started to swing. We didn't want to have the anchor lines get tangles so we parted ways, with us moving just a bit farther out. I went to start our engines and...

The port engine won't start. It had that "dead battery" surge to it. Unable to turn it over we limped away on one engine and safely anchored. 

John and Martha shot this picture as we tried to anchor
with one engine. The sunset was amazing!
Russ is investigating options, like using the starboard battery to start the port engine. We planned on getting an early start in the morning and get all the way to New York by late afternoon. Looked like a great day to go outside, better than today. But we may have to hold up here for a while. We'd already been contacted by the Atlantic City Harbor Host, so I'm confident we can get help if we need it (like a lift to a West Marine or auto store to get a new battery).

Stay tuned...

Wednesday, May 29, 2019

Delaware City to Cape May

First time heading south since we left Palmetto
 ...or, "What a day on Delaware Bay!" The trip was absolutely amazing. Sunny, warm, windless, and nearly waveless. The water looked like glass. The only time we had any swells of any kind was when we reached Cape May, and those were only 1 foot.

We tick off yet another state, setting our course for New Jersey.

Tough start to the day. After the briefing yesterday we were all told that thunderstorms in the afternoon would be a possibility. Best to leave early and be off the water by 2 pm. That meant a 6 am departure.

Glass, I tell you!
A number of boats wanted to make the crossing today, four of which were loopers. Cat-n-Dogs was the first boat out. Despite being parked nose to stern with all the other boats, the dockmaster, Tim, knew his dock and its current. He let lose all our lines except for a spring line and gave our stern a little push. The current slowly moved our back end clear. He tossed Russ the last line and said to me, "She's all yours, captain!" Off we went.

The early departure wasn't ideal tide-wise. The progress was slow for the first couple of hours, until we got to slack tide. At that point I opened up our engines a bit (those honkin' Yanmars need to be used at high RPMs occasionally, which is just fun for me!). Once we got about half way along the tide switch to our favor. When we reached the canal we were doing 10 knots without much effort.

One of many channel markers,
with both light towers and horns
About a hour away from the marina we received a Pahn Pahn on the radio. That's a call that means "Pay attention, this could mean you." A plane crash landed somewhere near the Cape May light house. We didn't see or hear anything, so we couldn't be any help. As time went on it sounded like a terrible search and rescue; they couldn't even find the plane. Even now I'm not sure they could get to it. Such an odd event for such a wonderful day. (

Tuesday, May 28, 2019

Bohemia Bay to Delaware City (update)

The new NEBO data... ooooOOOoooo!
The day did not start out swimmingly. Right off it looked light rain was coming. We wanted to head out around 8 am, but was in full swing by that point. 

We did get underway around 9 am. Besides some debris floating in the canal and hefty wakes from the commercial traffic on the Delaware Bay the trip was uneventful. We fueled at the fuel dock, the parked her on the long pier that is the marina, running almost the full length of the channel.

We're hanging out until 3:30 this afternoon for the dockmaster's "briefing." I've posted a pic of how we're all parked along this narrow channel, bow to stern. There will be a strict order of who-leaves-first and when given to us at that time. Then, we're off to Crabby Dick's. 

Another state down -- we're in Delaware. If the weather turns out as predicted, we'll be in New Jersey tomorrow.

The narrow canal that is Delaware City Marina

Again with the gray skies and calm water.
Frankly, it's all about calm water!


Sunday, May 26, 2019

Rock Hall to Bohemia Bay

The trip here was pretty good, except for two things: The really shallow shoal just outside Rock Hall you have to travel around (note the loop at the bottom of the map) and Memorial Day traffic. I get it -- most folks work five day workweeks, so when a long weekend comes they go crazy. And by that I mean fast. There's a code on the waterways which is "You are responsible for your wake." These guys and their ultra-fast, ultra-big Sea Rays don't care. They can do 25 knots so they're going to do 25 knots, wakes be damned.

Needless to say, we were rocked a number of times. Not as bad as the Tangier run, but unnecessary.

This stop, close to the Chesapeake/Delaware Canal, is largely to prep for the next few days of travel, whenever the weather lets us get to them. From here we have some open waters before we get to the Hudson; the Delaware Bay and the Atlantic. Tides will be an issue we need to pay attention to. Working with them, you can get an extra 4 knots of speed, against, of course, you'll go 4  knots slower. That can make for a long day.

Cloudy, but placid waters. Good boating day.
The Harbor Hosts here know the area well. We've already spent some time with them going over weather, tides, and what to expect. Useful stuff for us newbies.

Our next stop is Delaware City, about 23 NM away. From there, it's a straight shot down the Delaware Bay into Cape May. 

That also means we'll be leaving yet another state. Gotta say, Maryland has the coolest state flag. Looks so regal, to me.

See? Ain't that a cool flag?

Friday, May 24, 2019

A couple of days at Rock Hall

Who remembers these???
Weather has determined we stay put for a while, with small craft advisories and thunderstorms (the latter were pretty cool, really). With the aid of our trusty dinghy (I think I'm going to refer to it as "Kitty", being a very small boat compared to Cat-n-Dogs) we went to town a couple of times for lunch.

Thursday we ate at Pearl on Main. We selected it because it's downtown and they offered a couple of vegetarian options. While eating (portobello mushroom sandwich and a cauliflower cheese "steak") we took a hard look at the surroundings. Behind us was a real, honest-to-goodness, phone booth -- complete with phone. When I took a picture the owner came over. He'd lived in Rock Hall his entire life and knew the history of every building downtown. This, he pointed out, was the pharmacy/drug store. The booth we sat in was original (since they had a soda fountain) as was all the wood work and still working bar. Even bottles that decorated the place were original.

The following day we ate at Harbor Shack. We split the coconut shrimp and the crab cakes, and enjoyed the warm sun and breeze.

Koi pond at one of the marinas

In case you forgot you were in a
waterman's town

Original bottles at the drug store.
RHIT they contain the original drugs, too.

Sunny deck of the Harbor Shack

The harbor. Even if you're ATON savvy
this one is a bit confusing.
Basically, stay out of the middle!

You know they haven't been there a while
when ospreys are nesting on the boat

After tonight, the anchor tally is 12. 

Wednesday, May 22, 2019

Dividing Creek to Rock Hall

Today's voyage was broken into two parts. Part one was getting to Kent Narrows and part two, Rock Hall. We wanted to stop at Kent Narrows for a couple of reasons; pump out the boat, drop a return package off at the UPS Store (and there aren't many on this side of the Chesapeake), fill our propane tank, and do some grocery shopping -- hey, three days on the hook made us plow through our provisions!

We left Dividing Creek around 8 am, after the routine of dinghy-ing dogs, making coffee, and eating breakfast. The trip to Kent Narrows was pretty quick, with an arrival time of around 9:30. We planned on docking on a marina wall and pumping out there, hopefully staying for a couple of hours to do our errands.

The only obstacle between us and the marina was a bridge, 18 feet high. It only opens on the hour and half-hour. We figured we could slip right beneath it, but our arrival time synced with an opening. We hailed them and waited. In listening to the radio, we knew at least one other boat on the other side was also waiting. There are rules to these things -- any boat moving with the current has the right of way. That's because they have less control manipulating their vessel and those moving against the current. We were moving against it. I boated aside a bit, giving the boats space to pass before we went through.

Two boats came through. As soon as I had the opportunity, I headed up. This was one of the freakiest bridges (and we've been under a bunch now) I'd had to navigate. First, it was incredibly narrow. Second, it was all cement, which means you couldn't see through it to know what other boats or obstacles may be on the other side. Given the current I felt like a salmon swimming up some falls. But the biggest issue was, immediately after the bridge, smack in the middle of the channel, was a shoal. So as soon as we cleared the massive cement structure, I hung a hard left, avoiding the shoal and lining myself up with dock. All done without incident, just a bit intense.

John Babinski teaching Russ how to crack crabs
It set us up perfectly for the dock. Russ got a line out, and the water moved us up against the pilings, nice and snug. As we pumped out Russ asked about staying for a couple of hours while we ran our errands. They couldn't let us stay where we were, but we could move around the corner. As I backed away from the wall the current pushed us into the little channel. I swung the back end in and, in reverse, parked the boat against the wall. It all worked perfectly.

We got an Uber. I was dropped off at a Safeway while Russ took care of his package and the propane. I took another Uber back to the boat -- Russ got there before me. He'd walked the dogs while waiting. Starting up the engines again, we headed back out into... Kent Narrows.

How the Crab House keeps a
pitchermof beer cold...
The add a bag of ice. Brilliant!
I'm assuming it's called that because it's narrow. Crazy narrow. I had to time our entry into the main channel with the other traffic. Also, I had to avoid the shoal in the middle of the thing. I got Cat-n-Dogs into the channel, then started to turn. The current had gotten stronger while we did errands. I pushed the engines hard just to bring the nose about so we could head up stream. I'm chalking all of this up for practice, since I suspect the rivers will be just like that!

I followed two smaller boats through the zigs and zags, one of which really struggled to keep their boat between the markers. By this point it wasn't just narrow, but shallow as well. Moving slow and steady, we made it to deeper waters, and turned northward to Rock Hall, just another hour away.

We anchored there (bringing our anchor stat up to 10 nights!), and met friends at the dinghy dock to get some crab cakes, Waterman's Crab House. Possibly the best so far.

In short, not an eventful day, just a FULL day.

Monday, May 20, 2019

A day on Dividing Creek

Mostly a day of leisure. We did some kayaking, and took our bikes to shore for a bike ride. Lots of pictures of the area and wildlife.

Small covered bridge, St. Michaels
Russ kayaking on Dividing Creek
Bike trail on Wye Island
Can you see the turtle on the branch?
Just above the water.
Blue Heron flies in front of our boat.
Thank you, Martha Babinski for the pic!

St. Michaels to Dividing Creek Anchorage

Pic from our NEBO.
Not enough cell service to keep track.
The day started out a little earlier than usual, around 2 am. For some reason I was awake. While looking at the ceiling I saw some distant flashes. Ah... maybe thunder woke me. Grabbing my Samsung I took a look at the weather. Wouldn't you know it, there was a teeny, tiny little storm cell -- the only one around -- heading our way. Given my stirring Russ was up. I told him what was up and that we were going to get a storm. I went to close the windows in the saloon.

Lizzie was already anxious, so there must have been some thunder. I hushed her, closed the windows, and went back to bed. As the storm neared my mind raced. Recall we had issues anchoring? I started to wonder if we did a good enough job should the winds kick up. Russ must have wondered the same. Next thing I know he was checking the drag alarm -- he sets a proximity alarm that will notify us if we move farther than we're supposed to. 

By 2:30 the storms hits, lightning and thunder and rain. We didn't feel any big winds. The dogs, however, were crying. We gave in around 3 am and let them sleep with us, just as the storm passed. Another burst came about an hour later, lighting up the room and raining hard. 
Crab Claw restaurant, St Michaels. Deck at water level.

We got up around 5:30, our normal time these days, fed the dogs and got them to shore. Much to our surprise, the same nuisance high tides that are destroying Tangiers and happening here, too. 

While we weren't traveling far today, we got ourselves organized and headed out around 9:30. We aimed for the Wye River, just across from St. Michaels, and the park on Wye Island.

We set our anchor (flawlessly, I might add) around 11 am. Russ promptly put together his kayak and I made us a small lunch.

Network here is sketching, so this post is going up a day late. More to follow, including many more pictures.

Saturday, May 18, 2019

Oxford to St. Michaels

Go ahead. Laugh. We traveled over forty nautical miles to travel ten.

This isn't what we'd intended. We thought we'd stay another night in Oxford, or meet As You Wish up San Domingo Creek, which was kind of a back way to get to St. Michaels, just a 15 mile trip.

We got up this morning, took the dogs ashore, ate some breakfast, hung out a bit, then headed into town to take a walk. It had been recommended that we have lunch or dinner at the Robert Morris Inn. As we passed the place we saw folks seated outside, eating breakfast. I'm always up for a second breakfast.

The Robert Morris Inn is named after Robert Morris, who signed all three key documents to American history; The Declaration of Independance, The Articles of Confederations, and The Constitution. The inn was built in 1710, made from the ships that came over at that time. Walking into the building was truly like stepping back into time.

The Tavern at Robert Morris Inn
After looking the menus over we decided to stay. They seated us outside (perfect) then took our order. Right away we could tell that they weren't ready for the crowds. While not packed, there was a steady stream of folks coming to eat, and only three servers to handle them. So, while waiting for our food we did what all looper/mariners do... we checked the weather.

Today would be a beautiful day, calm waters, little wind. Tomorrow, however, the wind would come up and seas were projected to be 1 - 2 feet. Not bad. But not great, either. And Monday seemed to be a terrible day to travel. Still reeling from last Monday's trip we decided to get to St. Michaels today, then do the quick jaunt Sunday to get to a secluded and protected anchorage Sunday, and hang out there until Tuesday. By the time the food hit the table, we were headed out.

Sunset in Oxford with As You Wish
For the most part the trip was fine. We passed a number of fish traps, which look like fences in the middle of the water. It's incredibly difficult not to panic as you float by... are we close? Is there land there? Are we going to round aground? We didn't, by the way. That was all fine. 

Once we rounded the corner off the Eastern Bay onto Miles River, traffic picked up. That was the main reason we initially weren't going to travel -- gorgeous Saturday means everyone who owns a boat is in their boat. The run into St. Michaels was like a race between the weekenders, casting wakes everywhere.

Boats and tourist fill the little town. We get anchored (which was a bit more challenging this time), then took the dogs to shore. When we came back we weren't happy with the anchor job at all (we seemed pretty close to another anchored boat), so we tried again. After a few minutes, we weren't happy with that position, either. Unlike yesterday, when it all went smoothly, this time it was a frustration, largely out of our potential to swing into surrounding vessels (which there were none of last night). Eventually we got settled and joined some friends in town for dinner.

See? This doesn't look good, does it?!

Friday, May 17, 2019

Solomons to Oxford

After spending several weeks in marinas we decided we should take a few days to anchor out. Folks have raved about the little rivers and niches on the east side of the bay, with easy dinghy dock access for the doggies and sheltered coves. We decided to explore them.

This also gave us a "dress rehearsal" for next weekend. Memorial day. We're sure that if the weather is halfway decent, every marina will be packed. Russ and I plan to anchor out that weekend and stay away from the mass boating experience, maybe kayak somewhere, dinghy to a restaurant... low key holiday plans.

Skies were just a little gloomy, but the wind remained calm for the whole trip. Seas were one foot or less. We passed a number of fishing boats, so clearly the weekend has begun for some folks.

Moonrise in Oxford.
Once we got to the little town we dropped anchor (again, all of this is getting easier and more comfortable), loaded up the pooches in the dinghy, and took them to shore.

We struggled a bit to find the public docks but ended up parking in the slips of a restaurant, Capsize. Turns out they're dog friendly. We gave Savannah and Lizzie a walk, then went back for a late lunch; corn and crab bisque, ahi lettuce wraps, and monk fish tacos. All were excellent.

After dropping me and the dogs off, Russ did some shopping, taking the dinghy back to town. I showered and hung out with the dogs. We ended the day watching the sunset from the fly deck.

Looper friends, Martha and John (As You Wish), anchored with us. They took the photo above.

This made me laugh.
Better not be near the slush machines!

Thursday, May 16, 2019

A rough couple of days

After the beating we took on Monday morning we were (well, I was) very happy to be in Tangiers, safely docked. Since we arrived early we ate lunch at the only restaurant open this time of year, Lorraine's. While more of a diner kind of place, they had the best crab cakes this far (we intend to do more research, so stay tuned). 

Less of this...
More of that!

We helped a couple of other boats dock (TxAu and Southern Cross... in the end, one boat was rafted onto the other -- remember that), then all of us got together for docktails, a AGLCA gathering to share adventures. All of us had stories about the day. The two other couples planned on going out to eat at Lorraine's, which we passed on, having just eaten there. It was particularly amusing watching them return, given the tide had risen and they had to wade through knee-deep waters.

The next morning we got up really early. Given the tide, we weren't able to take the dogs to shore for their last walk. We hustled to get them out before any accidents, wearing sandals in case we had to wade a bit ourselves. Once each dog did their business, we came back to the boat. Russ lifted Lizzie and put her on the deck, then stepped onto the fender step with one hand on the railing. Instead of stepping up onto the boat himself, he simply reached up and opened the door. 

His foot slipped, the door swung open, and Russ perfectly fell sideways, clearing both the pier and the boat, splashing into the water. He was quick to get out, joking about taking his morning swim. But did tweak his back just a little (the other side from the last time he went in to rescue the dogs).

Despite that, he repaired the radar array during the day, doing a much better job securing it to the roof than the builder did. 

By noon another boat had joined us, a 44-foot Endeavour TrawlerCat named El Tejon, also loopers. We all helped them come in and introduced ourselves. I mentioned to the owner, Don, that one of the boats we'd looked at was a 44-foot Endeavour. After talking to him for a while, and hearing when and how he bought the craft, Russ realized we looked at exactly THAT boat. It had the name Kingfisher at the time. Glad it found a home.

As the day went on, the weather turned windy and cold. Drips of rain came and went. No big thunder storms, just gray and dreary weather. No one wanted to back to Lorraine's so we all got together for a BBQ on the Southern Cross. She's a 63 foot vessel with a gorgeous interior. The hostess, Penny, offered tours, which we all were happy to do. At that time I realized I was wearing shoes. Most boats have a "no shoes" policy, so I kicked my off, leaving on my socks (cold, dreary, windy day...). The floors on the Southern Cross are varnished to a mirror-like finish.

Just as I took my first step down the stairs, my foot slipped. My heel slid off one step and onto the next, only to slide of it. I banged my way down four steps or so before I fell on my bottom. I hurt my heel (the same foot that is recovering from plantar fasciitis), bruised my bottom, and, you guessed it, tweaked my back. Nothing major, but yet another irritation.

By 9 pm, when we all retired, the winds were blowing like crazy, over 20 mph. Cat-n-Dogs bounced significantly from the waves while being pushed into the pier by the wind. Russ just made a comment about how wonderful fender boards were when a terrible squeak came from the hull. One of our boards had worked loose. We got up and out, pushing on the boat against the wind, trying to put the fenders and boards back in place. This did not help either of our backs.

The boat on the left is target practice for the military,
The one on the right is El Tejon.
This storm wasn't as bad as the Charleston one was, but the bouncing was significant. I did get to sleep, which was pretty sound, when a terrible squeak roused me. The other fender board had come undone... at 1:30 in the morning. We both got up, put on winter coats, and again pushed the boat against the wind to put the fenders and boards between us and the pilings. It was crazy cold, and blowing like mad. We thought we heard yelling. We looked around a couple of times but didn't see anyone. Once we succeeded we returned to bed and tried to get some sleep. After such physical exertion, however, I lied awake for two hours before finally getting some sleep.

That next morning my back was not happy. While trying to walk dogs I could only take 6-inch steps down the pier. I was in tears, just miserable from the pain and the memories of how we got here. As I walked, I felt better and better. I'm happy to report just one day later it's no more than a small nuisance.

All that yelling? Remember that one boat,TxAu, was rafted onto Southern Cross? Rafting means a bunch of fenders are between the boats that are tied together. Right at 1:30 am, their fenders slipped. TxAu was bumping Southern Cross, her deck stuck below the bigger boat's rub rail. They, too, had a rough night. 

Even El Tejon claimed they were up at 1:30. Probably from the commotion by the rest of us!

Sunset on Solomons
The morning was still blustery but all the weather reports said it would die off.  As the morning went on, 7 am, 8 am, 9 am, the winds died down significantly. All of us decided to make a run for it at 10 am. It had to be a staged exit -- TxAu first, then Southern Cross, then us, then El Tejon. We all headed out, we all headed to Solomons... and we all had a wonderful crossing.

Needless to say, I seriously needed a nice, calm day to remind me why we were doing this.

Wednesday, May 15, 2019

Tangier to Solomons

Just a quick note since I'm sooooooo exhausted. I'll write up more on that tomorrow. 

The crossing from Tangiers to The Solomons was just fabulous. We left at 10 am and arrived around 3:30. Four other boats left from Tangiers, so the trip was like being part of a flotilla about to siege the islands.

Seas started at 1-2 feet, and ended around 3-6 inches. Chilly, in the low 60s, but ample sun made the day outstanding.

Lastly, another state is beneath our belts. We left Virginia and are now in Maryland.

Tuesday, May 14, 2019

A bit about Tangier Island

From what I understand, it's doomed. They have been losing eight acres a day since 1850, mostly due to the land sinking and eroding. Rising waters of course aren't helping either. The inhabitants believe they have fifty more years. I think that's extremely optimistic.

As I type this we're waiting for high tide to recede. For two or so hours before and after high tide, we can no longer walk to shore without getting our feet wet. At its highest the water is up to our knees. 

Low tide. Pic from our boat to Mr. Parks house.

High tide. Note the water under the cross pier,
and the lack of green in front of the house.

Close up of Mr. Parks house

To be fair, right now we're experiencing abnormally high tides. They call them "nuisance tides" here. We've been assured this is unusual. I predict this will be the norm soon.

We did do some walking around. There are a couple of cemeteries here. If you glance at the headstones you'll see a couple of names repeatedly. Parks is one. Crockett (the town's founder) is another. Families, descendants of British explorers, have been here for generations. They even still have a British accent.

Given this is a tourist town mostly but chilly in the winter, a number of the restaurants won't open for another week for Memorial Day. We ate at the only open place called Lorraine's. Crab cakes were very good. 

So, if you want to see the place, time's a-wasting! I suppose you could always use scuba gear...

Monday, May 13, 2019

Cape Charles to Crisfield (um, Tangier Island)

Never made it to Crisfield. Not that we didn't try. We absolutely shouldn't have tried. 

All the weather info gave us a cautionary, but doable, flag. First, waves at 2 feet, but as you go north dwindling to 1 foot. Second, winds around 15 mph, right on the no-go line. Third, rainy. Fourth, colder, highs in the low 60s, which is about a 15 degree drop from the day before. If we stayed the day, however, we were probably going to stay for two, since Tuesday's forecast looked even worse. So we thought "go." All of that did make us pilot from the inside helm. Good decision, that.

This made the Albemarle crossing look like a cake walk. 

Things started out similar to how we came to Cape Charles, which was a fine, somewhat bouncy ride. Then the waves grew to closer to three feet. Moreover, to our port we saw very dark skies. We decided to give up then and head for an anchorage, about an hour away. So wished we stuck to that plan.

But the skies cleared, giving us just a little rain. We pressed on.

You can see the dark spot on the right
where the Raymarine is supposed to be.
Within the hour, waves grew. Cat-n-Dogs crashed through 4 foot waves, with some topping at 6 feet. Our bow would crest then slam into the wave behind it. Repeatedly. Gushes of water washed over the bow. The impact jarred the boat, our bodies, and our teeth. We went through that for fa couple of hours. And (of course) dodging the occasional crab pot.

The problem is once you're in it, how do you get out? If you turned around, are things better or worse? Are you closer to just press on or should you find somewhere to anchor? 

We decided to cut the trip shorter by veering to Tangier Island. It had been on our original destination days ago but we were talked out of it -- better to go to Crisfield, then take a ferry to Tangiers and save yourself the trip. Given that it shortened the day by an hour we jumped on it.

About 45 minutes from Tangiers the waves smoothed out a bit, to the 2 feet as predicted. From that point in the trip was trivial. We entered the island just at slack tide, making docking the easiest part of the day.

Bustling downtown Tangiers
Once safely tied to the pier we walked the boat to assess our condition. We did not make it unscathed.

Russ noticed some plastic bits on the deck, which he identified as part of our "all around" light. We knew the housing was cracked, but the LED light within worked just find, so we never replaced it. He opened the roof hatch above the fly-deck helm, then cried out, "Oh, no!" The radar array was missing. Once he tucked back down he saw it was still attached, just hanging by its cables from the top. 

Another small casualty was our bed, which is in the bow of the boat. The slamming flexed the platform screws so badly it slid off its base.

Many things on the fly deck got tossed about. The dock boxes slid (thankfully, they were on mats, which prevented them from going far), bikes twisted out of their bungees, the water softener escaped and rolled around the floor, and Russ's kayak, which had been tied to the roof with SeaSuckers, fell to the floor. 

The bent screws from the bed platform
A couple of lines, while secured to the railings, fell into the water and dragged behind us. It's just dumb luck they didn't end up in our props.

In fact, the only thing that went right today was our timing into Tangiers Island. We arrived at slack tide, just as the winds completely calmed. Docking was a joy.

So, here we are, at Parks Marina. We'll be here for two nights while we do our repairs and lick our wounds.

The pugs are not amused.

I need to say this: When we contacted the marina around 11 am this morning, the owner, Mr. Parks, wasn't expecting any boats because of the weather. Six boat showed up today, including us. We were just the first. Which meant we got the primo parking spot! So we weren't the only ship of fools on the seas today.

Not ours anymore

There's a saying in the boating world, that the happiest days of a boater life is the day he buys the boat and the day he sells it. This...