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.
Showing posts with label Chesapeake City. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chesapeake City. Show all posts
Sunday, October 03, 2010
Friday, October 01, 2010
Groceries, or "Here, take my car!"
During the one break in yesterday's nearly non-stop, 24-hour downpour here in Chesapeake City, MD, Evan and I set out with our recently-acquired, collapsible granny cart to see the town and get some groceries. Chesapeake City is actually not a city, but a historic village of wooden houses dating back to the mid-1800s, so it came as no surprise to discover that the village has no grocery store. Our only hope, a storefront marked General Store, turned out to be a giftshop.
The nearest gas station convenience store was over a mile away, and the nearest supermarket about six miles. No public transportation. We decided to give the gas station store a try for eggs and veggies and such. We snapped pics of neat old houses on our way out of the village, but then the sidewalk ended and it was time to concentrate on avoiding cars and cart-destroying pebbles. It also dawned on us, now that walking to the store was no longer that scenic, to call ahead and see if the gas station store even had what we wanted. It didn't.
So we turned around and retraced our steps; we would just have to wait for Annapolis to get our groceries. Two minutes later, a woman stopped her SUV to ask if we were ok. We told her we were fine, just looking for a grocery store! She said ok, glad we weren't stranded, and drove off.
When we reached the edge of the village proper, the screen door to a small white wooden house sprang open, and a tall man came out and asked us if we were looking for something. He'd seen us pass the first time, then again this time, and figured we might need help. We told him about our hunt for groceries, and he said, "That's way on the other side of the bridge. Can't walk that. I can drive you if you want. I'm just hanging out here."
What? Evan and I couldn't believe it! Was it the granny cart? Walking to and fro with no obvious destination in sight? To top it off, then he said, "Or you can take my car! Here, take the car. I trust you." He went in and fetched the keys and handed them to Evan. (Hmph). I asked him his name; it was Jeff, and we shook hands all around. Off we went, Evan and I driving a slightly beat-up Volvo to Redner's Warehouse--Employee Owned supermarket, which was miles away. I still couldn't believe Jeff trusted us to take his car! And he'd have done it without knowing our names! He wasn't even a sailor! (Boat people, like Gary back in Manasquan, often offer to drive cruisers around on errands because they have been in their shoes before.)
Then we got to Redner's, and I have to say I was impressed. I don't know why I have the impression that American supermarkets should be, by and large, crappy and full of only processed food, because so far that hasn't been the case. (I think my prejudice stems from one popular explanation for American obesity, which is that most Americans don't get unprocessed, fresh food in their supermarkets. Based on my short experience so far, I would guess it's not so much that fresh ingredients are completely unavailable as Americans might not choose or know how to cook with them. But I digress a la Jamie Oliver.) ShopRite in Manasquan was great, and Redner's here was amazing! It had KIMCHI! It also had great organic selection too. Prices were extremely reasonable, much lower than, say, Gristede's back in NY. We got more than eggs and veggies, needless to say.
After we'd dropped our groceries off on the boat, we drove back to Jeff's with cookies and chocolate for him. He came out as we were parking, thanked us for the goodies with a "Glad I could help!" and that was that. I was a little disappointed not to chat with him and get to know a little about him, but wow, he really did offer his car just to be of help.
The nearest gas station convenience store was over a mile away, and the nearest supermarket about six miles. No public transportation. We decided to give the gas station store a try for eggs and veggies and such. We snapped pics of neat old houses on our way out of the village, but then the sidewalk ended and it was time to concentrate on avoiding cars and cart-destroying pebbles. It also dawned on us, now that walking to the store was no longer that scenic, to call ahead and see if the gas station store even had what we wanted. It didn't.
So we turned around and retraced our steps; we would just have to wait for Annapolis to get our groceries. Two minutes later, a woman stopped her SUV to ask if we were ok. We told her we were fine, just looking for a grocery store! She said ok, glad we weren't stranded, and drove off.
When we reached the edge of the village proper, the screen door to a small white wooden house sprang open, and a tall man came out and asked us if we were looking for something. He'd seen us pass the first time, then again this time, and figured we might need help. We told him about our hunt for groceries, and he said, "That's way on the other side of the bridge. Can't walk that. I can drive you if you want. I'm just hanging out here."
What? Evan and I couldn't believe it! Was it the granny cart? Walking to and fro with no obvious destination in sight? To top it off, then he said, "Or you can take my car! Here, take the car. I trust you." He went in and fetched the keys and handed them to Evan. (Hmph). I asked him his name; it was Jeff, and we shook hands all around. Off we went, Evan and I driving a slightly beat-up Volvo to Redner's Warehouse--Employee Owned supermarket, which was miles away. I still couldn't believe Jeff trusted us to take his car! And he'd have done it without knowing our names! He wasn't even a sailor! (Boat people, like Gary back in Manasquan, often offer to drive cruisers around on errands because they have been in their shoes before.)
Then we got to Redner's, and I have to say I was impressed. I don't know why I have the impression that American supermarkets should be, by and large, crappy and full of only processed food, because so far that hasn't been the case. (I think my prejudice stems from one popular explanation for American obesity, which is that most Americans don't get unprocessed, fresh food in their supermarkets. Based on my short experience so far, I would guess it's not so much that fresh ingredients are completely unavailable as Americans might not choose or know how to cook with them. But I digress a la Jamie Oliver.) ShopRite in Manasquan was great, and Redner's here was amazing! It had KIMCHI! It also had great organic selection too. Prices were extremely reasonable, much lower than, say, Gristede's back in NY. We got more than eggs and veggies, needless to say.
After we'd dropped our groceries off on the boat, we drove back to Jeff's with cookies and chocolate for him. He came out as we were parking, thanked us for the goodies with a "Glad I could help!" and that was that. I was a little disappointed not to chat with him and get to know a little about him, but wow, he really did offer his car just to be of help.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
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.
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.
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| 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. |
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