Day 73: St Michaels to Annapolis – 24/09/12

We have decided to spend the day in Washington tomorrow.  It’s only 32 miles from Annapolis to the nation’s capital by road but well over 200 miles out of our way if we do the journey down the Chesapeake and up the Potomac River.

Jim has offered us the use of his car from Annapolis so we need to head back there.  First we need to fill up with fuel and water, so we go over to the mega expensive St Michaels Marina, noting that the miserable cow with the attitude sees us coming and disappears inside never to re-appear.  Good.

It takes us about 5 hours to cover the miles back and we attach ourselves to mooring as near to the Charthouse Restaurant as we can as this is the side we need to take the dinghy to in the morning.

Photo:  As Ann and I shiver into Annapolis, chillin’ takes on a whole new meaning!

Photo:  Mike all wrapped up but still cold

Mike takes Ann and Terry over to town in the dinghy and they come back an hour later with bubbly, wine and chocolate.

We eat Chicken Pelau again for dinner (I do love one pot cooking even when the washing up responsibility is not mine) and settle down to watch a movie.

 

Position:  38 deg 58 min N, 76 deg 28 min W

Distance so far:  2643 miles

Day 72: St Michaels and Oxford – 23/09/12

We are woken at 3 am by the sound of really strong wind and can feel the boat pulling on the anchor chain.  Mike gets up to see what’s going on and immediately I hear the engines start I know it’s not good news.  I hastily throw some clothes on and join him in the cockpit to find out that the wind is blowing constantly at over 40 knots with higher gusts and that we have turned around 360 degrees and have begun to drag our anchor.  Terrific.  We are not alone though.  Looking around, other boats are doing the same thing and one boat is a few hundred yards from where he was when we went to bed as a result of an anchor dragging session.

With the wind pulling us against the anchor I find it difficult to unhook the clip that holds the bridle to the chain so I call Terry for help.  Never a man who likes to rush things, he asks if he can use the toilet first but Ann shouts ‘ noooooo’ and kicks him out of the door.

It’s cold in the howling wind but thankfully there’s no rain with it.  When the anchor is down and we are waiting for it to settle I ask anyone if they want a cuppa.  Tea in a crisis – how English!  However, we all do so Ann goes off to make it, and there we sit, in our strange assortment of clothes, wind howling all around, warming our hands around a nice cup of tea.

I don’t get to sleep immediately but am quite soundly asleep when the phone rings at the bottom of my bed where it is plugged in to charge.  It is Jim calling to make arrangements to get together.  I try to sound like I’m awake but obviously fail as he notices my ‘sleepyhead voice’.  We arrange to meet at 12 by the dinghy dock.

The wind has died down considerably but it’s still around 30 knots so Mike takes the boat in a little closer and we put down a hell of a lot of chain.  Most of the other boats have left so there is less of a problem with swinging.

We get togged up in our wet weather gear to go ashore and look pretty stupid as we approach the dock as the water here is completely calm and the sky is blue and cloudless.  Better to be prepared though – salt water splattered clothes just never dry out, and as I’ve just done my hair the rather fetching hood protects it although the advantage of this protection is somewhat reduced by the fact that my hair is now plastered to my head.  Why does life have to have such irritating Yings and Yangs?

It’s great to see Jim again, alone as he is for the moment while Annie is still in Australia after her son’s wedding.  He has her dog, Rex, with him for company though, and Rex proves to be very well behaved unless there is a squirrel around.  After all, it’s a dog’s job to chase a squirrel and stand, sentinel-like, at the base of a tree, just in case said squirrel happens to fall out of the branches, the only way he’s ever going to get one between his teeth!

Jim takes us to Oxford for a lovely lunch and then we have a walk around, stopping to check out Ocean Jasper on the way.  The walk reveals that Oxford is a very sleepy, very pretty, very New England sort of place.  The restaurants outnumber the shops but they do have a lot of picket fences.  Local artists paint 3-ft squares of these and they are offered for sale at a silent auction each year with the artist who raises the most money choosing which charity the profits will go to.  There are 18 of these little picket fences scattered all around Oxford.  Good job Jim found me a flyer – I was beginning to wonder why there were little bits of fencing stuck in strange places!

Photo:  One of the many painted pieces of picket fence scattered around Oxford

We find ourselves walking through a playground to get to the water and stop for a quick swing.  It brings back childhood memories – mainly of Ann pushing me so hard that the chain stopped being stretched out and that horrible ‘oh shit I’m going to go over the top’ feeling would come over me, although I didn’t know the word ‘shit’ and never fell off.  Good job too as playground surfaces were not made of the nice rubbery stuff they have now!  Anyway the memory stops me from revving up the pace too much.

Photo:  Down by the water in Oxford

Photo:  Big kids on the swings

Photo:  Ann taking another opportunity to sunbathe

After the swings it’s ice cream.  Even Rex has one – vanilla in a bowl.  I wonder if dog’s get brain freeze as he eats his much quicker than we do.

Photo:  Painting on the side of the only food shop in town

We leave Jim by the dinghy dock with promises to meet up again when Annie gets back. 

Photo:  Jim, me and Mike

On the way back to the boat, we suddenly hit something.  We look all around but there is nothing obvious then suddenly Mike realises that it is low tide and we might have even hit the bottom.  Even though we are only in the dinghy it’s really shallow if you get out of the designated channels.  He slowly gets back on course and we get back to Jeannius without further mishap.

It’s cold on the boat during the evening – the weather is set to change over the next few days – nice during the day but colder at nights.  I hope we’ve got enough blankets – we won’t be heading south for a couple of weeks yet!

 

Position:  38 deg 47 min N, 76 deg 12 min W

Distance so far:  2636 miles

Day 71: St Michaels – 22/09/12

We have a lazy day today.  We stay on the boat.  It’s warm and sunny and we are in a pleasant place.

 

Position:  38 deg 47 min N, 76 deg 12 min W

Distance so far:  2636 miles

Day 70: St Michaels – 21/09/12

I am in the saloon after breakfast when I suddenly realise that everyone else it at the bow looking over the boat into the water so I go up to investigate - there’s a large blue legged crab clinging to the anchor chain.  Mike lets a bit more chain out and our stowaway lets go but swims over to the bridle and clings on there instead.  Apparently these local crabs are edible but one between four doesn’t provide much meat (and I don’t like the thought of boiling it to death anyway) so while Mike goes off to get the boat hook to give him a gently nudge, I waggle the bridle to see how hard he’s going to cling to it.  To my surprise he lets go immediately and swims off.

Photo:  Anyone for crab?

Now I’ve never seen a crab swim in deep water; I thought they just crawled around on the sea bed and rocks, and just floated a bit if the water caught them, but they have special little flippers (or at least these do) that waggle around in the water.  He looks quite sweet actually and I wish I had given him a closer look before encouraging him to clear off.

It’s another lovely day for just sitting around on the boat but Ann has other ideas and wants to get some washing done – she has seen that there is a laundrette in the town.  We gather it together, and along with some of our rubbish, we head over to the dinghy dock.  We give ourselves nearly two hours to do it and ask Mike to come back for us at 1.15 pm.  I should have taken the hand held VHF as I later find out.

Getting rid of the rubbish ends up being a major problem that I had not anticipated.  Although there will be places to dispose of it in the marina, we are on the other side and not marina guests.  I ask around, go to the administration office, a lady makes phone calls and eventually I am told to go into the maritime museum to see Bill.  In the museum shop, no one has heard of Bill or his bins but a very helpful lady there goes out to the boat yard behind them and eventually we discover where they are hidden in plain view of her office.

As we walk back to the museum she questions me about my sailing and when she hears that I have sailed around the world in 16 months she asks me if I will come back and give a talk about the experience.  She’s disappointed when I say I am just passing through. 

Ann has been guarding our dirty washing and wondering where the hell I have got to and I explain as we walk up the road to the laundrette – and discover that it is well and truly closed.  Peering through the door we can see that all the machines are there but the place is deserted so Ann goes off to one of the other shops to find out what the score it.  The score is nil points to us – the place has shut down for good.  Apparently we can get a taxi and go a few miles down the road where there’s a place that will do it for you but that’s not what we want.

We figure there must be a laundry at St Michael’s Marina so we drag our dirty linen down the high street and down the road that I hope will lead to the other side of the creek.  It does.

I go into the marina office and am greeted by a woman who, after realising that I am not a marina customer, proceeds to treat me as though I am something that she wants to scrape off the bottom of her shoe.  When she finds out we actually want to use her laundry facilities, without being a marina customer (heaven forbid) she becomes even more frosty telling me that marina customers come first (no, really?) and that someone had just arrived who wanted to use the laundry.  Her husband smiles apologetically and asks if we can come back tomorrow which seems to horrify her as she says they are fully booked at the marina tomorrow.  Extremely reluctantly she says that if we are quick and only have one load, we can go right now, right this minute.  Yes, ma’am!  Any one would think we were getting the service free instead of having to pay for it.

Smiling sweetly and mentally giving her the ‘v’ sign we walk round the back to the laundry.  After all the fuss I was expecting something really good but it’s a tiny room with two washers, two driers, a dirty floor and a rank smell of drains.  By the time the washing goes in it is 45 minutes after we have left Mike and there is no time we will be ready by 1.15 pm.

There’s nothing we can do so we go off for a drink.  The waitress is one step away from care in the community -  Ann’s wine comes slopped over the glass and the bar, and my water is decidedly odd - it has bubbles and tastes of bicarbonate of soda.  Yuk.  When Ann asks for the bill we realise we have been charged for wine and draft soda – so that’s what the strange taste is.

We need to let Mike know that we can’t meet our rendezvous on time and go to the marina office.  Thankfully the dragon isn’t there and the guys let me use their VHF to call the boat although there’s no answer – as I haven’t taken the hand held Mike hasn’t bothered to switch the radio on.  One of the staff is a staunch fan of all things British and a massive Liverpool supporter.  He gives us a brochure for the marina.  What a rip off.  This place is twice the price of the one in New York which was right by Central Park, and more than the one in Boston which was right in the centre of town.  Not only that, they charge more for Friday and Saturday nights.  I hate it when places do that.

The brochure does enlighten us on the subject of all the Union Jacks though.  One reason is for ‘our partnership and loyalty to the USA during the Iraq conflict’ and the other reason is over the Battle of St Michaels in 1812.  The British navy arrived to wipe out the town’s boatyards but were outwitted by the villagers who hung lanterns in trees beyond the town causing the gunners to overshoot.  St Michaels has since been know as ‘The Town That Fooled The British’.

We go up to the end of the dock and watch for for Mike.  We are on the opposite side of the creek to where we are supposed to be and hope that we can do something to attract his attention.  We spot him immediately he leaves the boat and as soon as we think we are within yelling distance we stand there and shout, waving our arms around to attract his attention.  He fails to notice us but no one else in the marina does.  As cries of ’Mike’ and ‘Skiplah, we’re over here’ echo loudly around the marina, Mike passes 50 yards away, completely oblivious, our screaming masked by the noise of our outboard and his vision probably blocked by the smoke it puts out.  Only when he reaches the dock on the far side and cuts the motor can he hear us and over he comes.

Refusing to go back to the boat and come back for us 45 minutes later, he instead comes to the bar and we wait for the drying to finish.  Ann receives another glass of wine slopped everywhere.  What is wrong with that woman?

We just have a very late, light lunch because we are off to the delights of Big Al’s smoker, and spend the afternoon reading and catching up with computer stuff.

Big Al’s is a bit of a disappointment really, especially for Terry.  Ribs are off the menu until tomorrow and although the rest of the food is good, the portions are decidedly un-American and we leave, most of us with room to fill which unfortunately for my diet gets filled up by another vat of ice cream on the way back to the boat.

Photo:  Another sunset over St Michael

 

Position:  38 deg 47 min N, 76 deg 12 min W

Distance so far:  2636 miles

Day 69: Annapolis to St Michaels – 20/09/12

We leave around 9 am.  From not knowing whether to visit the Naval Academy early or go to Chick and Ruth’s for breakfast to watch the patriots swearing the Pledge of Allegiance (something which happens every morning apparently) he ends up doing neither.

It’s a lovely day again, just right for yet another session of motoring to St Michaels.  I have never sailed so little!  We arrive in the bay during mid afternoon, and once we are sure that the anchor has settled, we take the dinghy and go ashore to explore.

On our way in we notice that there are union jacks all around the marina – something we have not seen elsewhere.  I wonder why?

Photos:  Entering the harbour at St Michaels

There is a maritime museum, quite a few restaurants and bars and a wonderful couple of old buildings, one of which has a figure head from a boat which was once displayed at a the Naval Academy in Annapolis.  It is supposed to be good luck if you fondle her rather large, prominent twin assets so Mike and Terry follow in the steps of many young naval cadets and do just that!

Photos:  Boys will be boys

The main street here is Talbot Street and most of the shops and restaurants are found here.  We wander along this relatively busy road up to the end of the ‘built up area’ although this is hardly what I would call built up.  We do go in some of the shops but to be honest, it’s all a bit samey and dare I say it, staid.  I would have to be desperate to buy any clothes here - they are expensive but cater to a taste that is about 30 years older than mine.  Having seen the sale signs in some of the windows, Mike presumed that his wallet could take a hit and is relieved when I leave shops grimacing at what I have found inside.

Photos:  Talbot Street, St Michaels

However, ice cream is ice cream and we stop for a large one one the way, laughingly called a single scoop.  It’s that half litre thing again, although nowhere have I had  a waffle cone of the type that Victoria and I had in Padanarum.  That one is still in my memory as ‘simply the best’!

Photos:  Ice cream – just the ticket

Ignoring the content of the shops, the town is very pretty.  I am surprised to find everything once again looking so like New England.  I really hadn’t expected that this far south.  Although there are some brick buildings, most of the houses are clapboard with the occasional shingle one thrown in for good measure.

Almost at the end of the town strip we cross the road to retrace our steps and find Big Al’s, a diner, with a huge smoker outside.  They do their own salmon, pork, turkey etc and offer lunch and dinner.  It smells wonderful and we decide to go back tomorrow as Terry wants spare ribs having been unable to get them in Baltimore’s Hard Rock Cafe.

We do a bit of shopping at the Acme supermarket and the Village Shoppe, a nice deli which would be nicer if it wasn’t trying to sound oldie worldie with the extra ‘pe’ at the end of it’s name.  Yuk.  Mind you they do sell wonderful Stilton cheese which delights Mike.

Although not funny as such, I can’t help but give a schoolboy snigger when I see the signs for the undertaker’s business alongside a road sign saying ‘Dead End’.  I have such bad taste!

Photo:  The pretty harbourside houses

In the evening we are presented with a beautiful sunset, and although it sets behind the land, the colours across the water as it descends are magnificent.

Photo:  Another beauty

There are four huge half-pound crab cakes that we bought from Chick and Al’s for me to cook for dinner tonight.  Given that the lump meat crab is only held together with a sort of seasoned mousse, cooking them could be interesting.  We were told that they should be cooked in the oven but given that I won’t use the oven, they have to be pan fried instead.

I gingerly open the first container and experimentally turn it over and plop it onto a plate.  It turns out beautifully after a couple of taps on the bottom, although it does start to collapse a bit after the warmth of the galley gets to it.  Ann puts the container back over it and I shove them all back in the fridge while I wait for the water to boil for our instant mashed potato – you can’t beat Idaho instant!!

I manage to get all four into our big frying pan but when I try to turn them the fall apart although I am able to squidge them together each time so they sort of resemble their former shape.

We sit inside to eat because it’s too bloody cold outside, as it has been for weeks now.  The crab cakes are delicious although they give the appearance of having a cow pat on your plate and the mash, as always, is sublime.  Accompanied by a good film while we eat and a helping of Terry’s almond M n Ms, I acknowledge that sometimes I am very easy to please although I think Mike would disagree.

 

Position:  38 deg 47 min N, 76 deg 12 min W

Distance so far:  2636 miles

Day 68: Annapolis – 19/09/12

Having had the day cooped up yesterday, we are all eager to get off the boat.  Having said that, we don’t make it to shore until gone 11 am.

After paying for another night on the mooring, we arrange to meet at Chick and Ruth’s Delly for lunch and split up to explore after getting ideas and maps from the very helpful people at the Visitor Information office.

Since all the roads in the centre of town lead to the State House, the government headquarters, we make a start there.  After checking our IDs and scanning my handbag, we are let in to wander around, although not all of it is open to the public.

 Photos:  Inside and outside the State House

Heading back to the main road, I go in a couple of clothes shops, trying stuff on but not really finding anything that takes my eye.  All this time Mike either hangs around suspiciously outside or comes in and sits down looking bored – but he doesn’t complain and pretends to be disappointed when I don’t find anything I like.  Either he’s turned into a bloody good actor or it’s a case of the invasion of the body snatchers!

We spend the rest of our morning walking around town, with me ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ and pointing my camera at the architecture around me.  Annapolis is really quite lovely.  Most of the buildings are either brick in the colonial style or clapboard.  Most have been restored and look lovingly tended.  A lot of the back streets are very leafy and people look after their vegetation, with lots of pots and window boxes.

Photos:  Beautiful Annapolis houses

We walk past the Hammond-Harwood Home, a house that Thomas Jefferson described as having ‘the most beautiful doorway in America”.  All I can say is he didn’t see very many!

Photo:  The most beautiful doorway in America?  Probably not!

Photos:  More Colonial government buildings

As we are walking to Chick and Ruth’s Delly for lunch, we hear Ann calling us – she has left Terry wandering about the Hammond-Harwood House and gone off alone, so we all go up to the diner together.

Now apparently Chick and Ruth’s Delly is a bit of an Annapolis institution, especially if you are partial to crab cakes, which I am.   In fact, it’s known as Crab Cake Central and its crab cakes are shipped all over the US.  It has also featured in the TV programme “Man Vs Food” and when we look at the menu it’s not hard to see why.  There are sandwiches available with 3lbs meat in them and 6 lb shakes – 6 lb!  In the programme the presenter managed to win the challenge by drinking a 6 lb vanilla milkshake and eating a 1.5 lb sandwich of turkey and corned beef in under an hour.  Gross!

We go for something lighter – Mike and I have Eggs Benedict with jumbo lump crab meat (and fried potatoes) and Ann goes even lighter with a salad.  We decide not to wait for Terry as he can get waylaid when his camera is out (even worse than me), which is just as well as he turns up half an hour later having been given a very enthusiastic tour of the house which over ran.  He gets the same as Mike and I on our recommendation.

Photo:  Chick & Ruth’s Delly

You can buy their half-pound crab cakes to take home and we decide to go back later to get some. 

After a delicious lunch we all go over to the USNA (the naval academy) but as Ann and Terry have no photo IDs on them, we once again have to split up.  To be honest, with all the security that abounds in the country now, I’m really surprised that we are allowed somewhere like this at all.  They don’t even scan our bags even though the machine is there and waiting.  We are just waved in by a bored looking job’s worth type who isn’t at all bothered by the 20 year old picture on my driver’s licence (long story).

Mike and I enter the huge campus, most of which looks like it has taken French chateaux as its design influence.  The buildings are beautiful and the 338-acre grounds are beautiful and well tended.  This naval academy has grown since 1847 when it was founded as the Naval School for 50 students and now has around 4500 midshipmen.

Photos:  The United States’ Naval Academy at Annapolis

As we walk around, I hope to see battalions of fit young men jogging around singing “I don’t know but I’ve been told” etc and being insulted by their drill sergeants but I only see a few wandering around in very well pressed uniforms.  I was expecting to see Richard Gere lookalikes a la ‘Officer and a Gentleman’ fame so I’m a bit disappointed.

As we walk back to the exit, I hear the sound of bagpipes and we follow it to find hundreds of midshipmen assembled ready for marching.  There are also about 3 different bands playing different music which sounds more than a little jarring.  The all of a sudden they stop and two lone drummers come and stand right by us and to their beat, all the midshipmen march in their squadrons past us and up the road.  It takes almost 20 minutes for them all to go by and I film it all, or at least I think I do but I discover later that I pressed the video button once too often and turn it off again, so I’ve managed to film about 5 seconds of them and a bit of the floor.  Such a professional!  Maybe it’s just as well.  They don’t look too professional and can hardly march in step.  Maybe these were first years but they do need a lot more practise.  All I have is a crap photo of them disappearing into the distance, white hats bobbing.

Photo:  The end of the march

We leave to meet Ann and Terry at the dinghy dock and go back to the boat.  We watch a fleet of kids in a race, all frantically rocking their boats from side to side in an effort to fill the sails as there is little wind.  As they go past they some of them notice the Ensign and one little chap exclaims “Cool, that boat’s from Liverpool”, then I hear another one shout “is that a turtle?”  I look over to where he is watching and there is something definitely moving in the water.  Mike looks and says it looks like a crocodile but as far as I know there are no salties around here.  While he goes off to get the binoculars we keep our eyes on it and when he comes back and takes a closer look he says it’s definitely a crocodile and can see the man operating it with a remote control.  As he says this a guy on the dock leans over and picks up the crocodile head, laying his remote on the ground beside him.  Why would a grown man be playing with a remote controlled crocodile head?  Weird!

Photo:  Man, remote and crocodile head

We had been expecting to hear from Jim, captain of Ocean Jasper on the WARC Rally, to arrange to meet up this afternoon/evening.  When no call came during the day, I begin to wonder whether I have given him the wrong number – I have a track record of typing e-mail addresses wrong so why not telephone numbers.  My fears are confirmed when we check our e-mail and find one from Jim saying he’s been trying to get me.  Luckily, in a screwy sort of way, he hadn’t been able to get his car started after two weeks away (not like my 14-year old Mazda then which started first time after 18 months of being left outside!) so he couldn’t have come out to play anyway.  We arrange to meet another day.

Ann and Terry had stopped for ice cream while they were out and after the big lunch, Mike and I don’t fancy any dinner but decide there is room for a serving of ice cream, and head back to town in the dinghy.  We have no idea what time the shop shuts and one guy calls out that we look like we are doing some sort of military parade as we walk in time with each other as quickly as our little legs will carry us up the hill to the furthest away ice cream shop.  It’s still open so we choose and then walk slowly down the hill again.  I like American ice-cream.  You get huge portions – a double scoop is like a half litre tub!

God, I’ve got to go on a diet!!!

Tomorrow we leave for St Michaels, just over on the east coast of the Chesapeake Bay.

 

Position:  38 deg 58 min N, 76 deg 28 min W

Distance so far:  2609 miles