an infrequent repository of mostly new stuff
Aeon stretching her wings. Video from the longest leg.
The trip back was a 10 mile romp. The wind was now blowing at 15 to 18 knots, with a gust to 25 picked up by a buoy at the mouth of the Patuxent. Once we got away from the shore you could feel it. Most of the boats had reefs in. George stayed near the south shore where the chop was not as bad. I didn’t like what the trees did to the wind, so moved farther out, the rest riding it out in between.
Spirited Reach up the Patuxent
The basic plan is sail upriver until hungry, stop for lunch. Sail all the way back, and then some, to St. Leonard Creek. Hole up there for the night. If that ends up too far, turn into one of the smaller creeks along the way.
When scouting maps for launch spots, St. Leonard had looked promising. There was a place marked on the charts as a fairly large marina, but went by the odd name of “Vera’s Beach Club”. Hmm. A little googling rendered details of a seafood restaurant, bar, full service docks, etc.. Likely bathrooms and showers. Also, wet t-shirt contests. Bill’s on Broomes Island was more our style, but Vera’s did offer some appeal. St. Leonard was looking pretty good.
Aeon with her topsail, leaving the creek. photo: Kevin Brennan
The wind would stay locked to the Southwest for all four days, ramping up steadily day after day. What a stellar day this would be. Sailing all day at speeds averaging 5 knots, with sustained spurts over 7. Thirty miles covered easily. All after the walk to Sotterley, and with two long breaks of an hour each stuck in the middle. Just wow.
View from the Veranda
After a short night of sleep, morning came a little early. The first thing I heard after daylight – besides whippoorwills, gulls, bobwhite quail, crows, turkeys, crickets and cicadas – was Ken’s outboard chugging up the creek. Kevin M and Ken were already putt-putting across the water in LIttle T and the O’Day with everyone else on board.
video, the sail to Sotterley Creek
Back at the beach Kevin B, freshly escaped from civilization and its discontents, was prepping Slip Jig. The Navigator was quickly launched, in the water and ready to go. That left Mike and his Haven 12 1/2, saved for last to eke out every inch of the rising tide.
It’s crazy that he can haul this boat behind a little Subaru Forrester. The boat looks bigger than the car, but it works. A tongue extension on the trailer helps get to deepish water, and six of us are able to shoulder it off pretty easily. Everybody’s in.
Out of sequence, but timely.
We have a bunch of friends who are young farmers and foodies: chicken, beef, pork, cheese, beer, cider, wine, kombucha, eggs. Plus some chefs who work in local restaurants putting it all together in amazing ways. They work really, really hard.
Today they threw themselves a pasture party, kicked back and chilled out, and brought the fruits of their combined labor. They party as hard as they work – it lasted all day and into the night. We had to bail out while they were still going strong.
But we waited for the moon to rise – a “Super Moon” – and the clouds cleared just in time.
And super it was.
Broomes Island from the water
Why the long previous explanation? Well, on Thursday, for the first half the group, the vacation started as soon as we passed through the bent and rusty gate at Broomes Island. It was pretty clear that no one was going to get ruffled about anything.