Solomons Island, MD

We left Annapolis yesterday and unfurled the sails (yay!) down the Chesapeake to Solomon's Island, a small island full of beautiful trees, picnic tables, dogs, touring motorcycles (you know, the ones with radios and cupholders), and, of course, boats. We arrived just before sunset and biked the length of the island, stopping off for some bbq at an outdoor stall blasting Arrested Development Gob's magic theme song (Europe's "The Final Countdown," thanks Shazam) on a radio station called Hair FM. Then we got  some really delicious key lime pie at a far less screechy, laid-back place called Kim's. A pass on a bingo evening, and we tucked in early for a peaceful evening on a mooring, since we'd gotten up at 6:30am and were going to have to again. Not the most exciting day of our trip, but definitely one of the most pleasant so far.

US Sailboat Show: Parting with money can be fun

Sometimes, like when we discover a rudder has to be replaced, parting with money is absolutely horrendous. Other times, like today, it is very much fun.

Annapolis hosted the first day of the annual US Sailboat Show, and Evan and I went with two minds about it. I wanted to go aboard all the open house yachts. I say yachts, as opposed to sailboats, because most are pretty luxurious and cost more than 100K. These are not the 20+ year-old sailboats Evan and I come across. Evan, on the other hand, wanted to talk shop and do business with trade vendors, since he'd already visited the boat show once and drooled over the boats he couldn't have.

So Evan went to do errands, and I went up and down the docks visiting boats. And I was surprised to find that I really only lusted after one boat: a 30-foot racing yacht from Turkey called Sensei.

Beautiful teak decks and very clever design

http://www.facebook.com/senseiyachts?v=photos#!/album.php?aid=155946&id=167917876417

All the other yachts left me unimpressed. Sure, some were huge. Others had microwaves and fancy fridges. Most had big bathrooms. But the wood finishes felt surprisingly thin in a lot of the boats, and the metal hardware on cabinets and such felt flimsy. I wouldn't pay $200,000+ even if I had it. I soon left the fancy yachts and rejoined Evan, and how much more fun were the tents full of vendors! I came away with two bags--one tote and one pouch--made from recycled sails; a great polartec anorak (less than $25!); shampoo/body soap that lathers even in saltwater; and a bunch of free pens. Little (but happy) fish in the pool of big spenders (a large number of which were wearing ballooning-pelvis pants, aka pleated khakis).

Visiting Land Life

Last night, Evan and I took advantage of a sailor friend's offer to use his Vespa to get around town, and we drove in the evening chill to watch "The Town" at Bow-Tie Cinemas, a 15-minute drive outside the historic downtown area of Annapolis. (Good but 95% on RottenTomatoes?) I was thrilled to be doing something from my everyday life before cruising, much like I was thrilled to go out on a sailboat when I lived on land. It's odd, what becomes a treat in what context.

Today, though, was an even bigger treat in terms of reliving my landlubber days. After Evan and I strolled around historic downtown in the early afternoon, I spent the rest of the day doing some of my favorite things that are impossible to do on the boat:

--turtling around used bookshops;
--petting every dog whose owner says yes;
--walking aimlessly and taking pictures;
--enjoying the smell of flowers and trees and and wafts of cologne/perfume from people passing by;
--hanging out in a window seat at the local coffeeshop, people-watching with pen, notebook and coffee; and
--chatting with complete strangers over a counter.

Ah, the pleasures of life on land, especially in an actual city.

Annapolis

Yesterday we put another 10 hours under our belt as we sailed down the Chesapeake Bay from Chesapeake City to Annapolis. It was a gorgeous day with plenty of sun and little waves. Sadly, there was practically no wind, so we motored. We skirted lobster and crab pots, a few tankers, and plenty of speedboats and other sailboats.

Then we passed under the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, which marks your entrance in Annapolis waters. The water glittered sequin-like with late afternoon light, and *that's* when we saw what a popular boating spot looks like.



We will stay here for a few days before moving on to explore some of the many detours off the Chesapeake. After that, Norfolk, VA.

Horsepower and Plotting (or is it Plodding)

An average Honda Civic today has 140 horsepower. In 1983 it had 55 horsepower.

Our boat has 25 horsepower.

Now, when I hear "25 horsepower," I imagine 25 horses pulling a giant stagecoach over American prairies or something. And even though this is not is not an accurate way to think of horsepower, (apparently, it's more like 25 mini-horses on individual treadmills powering our engine), it does illustrate the fact that traveling by sailboat is a little like traveling by horse. Actually, it might be slower.

A walking horse goes about 2-3 miles an hour and a trotting one about 8-10 miles an hour. A horse can trot for hours. Our boat's average speed is 5 miles an hour. (It might be a draw.) A horse can canter at about 10-17 miles and gallop at about 30 miles an hour. Our boat's top speed is 6-7 miles an hour. (Horse wins.) A horse that was conditioned for traveling in the old days could go an entire day and cover 50-60 miles. Our boat can, theoretically, go 24 hours a day. (Boat wins...but only in theory, see last.) A horse needs to rest every now and then and munch on some oats and drink some water. Our boat does not need any rest, but it does need wind or fuel. We have enough fuel on board for 56 hours. The crew needs rest and food, but we can take turns sleeping, and the boat continues to sail even while we're eating. (Boat wins.) A horse can go out in almost any kind of weather and over pretty rough ground. Our boat is weather- and current-finicky. (Horse wins.)

So how does this affect our course plotting? Let's look at this morning.

I woke up this morning to the sound of rain pitter-pattering overhead and an excited Evan plotting this week's itinerary aloud. If the weather forecast is accurate, we might be able to leave in the next day or two and cover the 110 miles to Annapolis, MD by the weekend. Then I got excited, because Annapolis is near Baltimore, where my good friend Lesley lives. Easy to hop on over to Baltimore from Annapolis, right?

Wrong. It would be at least 6-8 hours of travel-time on the boat. Why? Baltimore is 36 miles away, and our boat goes, on average, 5-6 miles an hour. Then add in another hour for channel traffic and navigating.

Then I looked at the map and wondered why we don't just go to Baltimore ahead of Annapolis, since we'll be coming down the Chesapeake Bay towards Norfolk, VA. The answer is that Baltimore is 15 miles away from our channel route in the Chesapeake. That may not sound like much, but consider that the distance from downtown Manhattan to the open Atlantic (just past the Verrazzano Bridge) is 8 miles and took us around an hour--and that was with the tide. So, sailing to Baltimore instead of Annapolis would add on around 4 hours (and navigating a current) to our travel time down the Chesapeake.

At the end of this tortuous process, we concluded that we will be going straight to Annapolis, then renting a car for the quick drive back up to Baltimore. But all that is days away. In the meantime, we have more rain, the Delaware Bay, the C&D Canal, and Chesapeake City.

The tiny blue line between the tops of the Delaware Bay and the Chesapeake Bay is the C&D Canal we'll be going through.