Eating Our Way Back Home

The Delights of the Chesapeake

Three states and a gazillion waterways: rivers, bays, creeks...So many places to explore and so little time! (One day I have to read Michener's Chesapeake.) In the meantime, we have seen so many wonderful sights and enjoyed the bountiful food of the region.

A Tasty Surprise

On our way to a sail shop to have our torn mainsail repaired, we motor- sailed with the jib and planned to anchor after traveling 50 miles, but alas, all of the possibilities for anchoring were shoaled in so we kept going. Twelve hours and 72 miles later (a record for us), we tied up at a free dock in Great Bridge, Virginia. (Not the Chesapeake, but a canal leading to it.)

We really needed to get off of the boat by then, so we crossed the bridge into a thoroughfare filled with stores and restaurants. After perusing the myriad of eateries, we chose Muroni's Mediterranean Restaurant which turned out to be a real find; fabulous food and exquisite presentation equal to any good restaurant in New York. We commented to the waitress that the owner should open a branch in NY, and next thing we knew, Mr. Muroni himself was introducing himself. We promised to add him to our blog, and here he is!

Another Farmers' Market

After thoroughly enjoying the fresh shrimp, shitake mushrooms, kohlrabi and freshly picked strawberries from a farmers' market in North Carolina, I made sure to visit another in the Chesapeake. This time I was able to get fresh sourdough bread and scallops and even picked up a basil plant to enhance our meals aboard. The seafood has been the best I've had in a long time making me wish I lived near the Chesapeake.

Ending the Day at the Crab Pot

While anchoring in a small harbor on the west coast of the Chesapeake to escape 30 kt. winds, we discovered Reedville, a wealthy town created by the harvesting of menhaden, an inedible fish used to make fertilizer and fish oil. At the end of the main street lined with captains' homes (see an example above), we explored the fisherman's museum which had a delightful

miniature town train exhibit. At the end of the day, we dinked across the harbor to the Crab Pot and dined on wonderful fried oysters and pulled pork; we bought sugar toes, a small local fish, which I prepared aboard with potatoes, onions, parsley, and spices. Yum!

Is this almost June? Despite the spring, we have been sailing in very cool temperatures, high winds, threatening skies and rain; Lou and I are bundled up while steering. You would think it was still winter! Did we leave the Bahamas too early?

A Dining Delight in Herring Bay

We took refuge from more 30 kt winds in Herring Bay further up the west coast of the Chesapeake. There was no one around and it was early, so we took the dinghy on a long ride into one of the marinas and discovered Skipper's Pier Restaurant. Everyone was freezing from the high winds, but it didn't stop them from sitting outside on the dock and enjoying the sun and wonderful food. We dined on appetizers at half price: egg rolls stuffed with collard greens and lightly spiced sausage in a delicious soy sauce - in fact, we ordered a second one - marinated skewered beef, and little neck clams in an orange flavored sauce that we soaked up with bread. That, topped off with beer, made up for the lost day of traveling. Funny thing, a few days later, when reviewing my log, I discovered we had been in Herring Bay on the way down south, had even taken a swim in the warm waters, but had no idea of the epicurean delights nearby!

A Bucolic Respite between Sails

Next day, we left by 7:00 am (we've begun to use the early morning hours to make time when the winds are calmer). A Small Craft Advisory was scheduled for the afternoon as it had yesterday, so we sneaked into Harness Creek off the South River of the Chesapeake. Our anchorage was alongside Quiet Waters County Park (Md.), and we went on a brisk walk to discover this fallen log carved into a person riding a serpent chased by a tiger. The day was calm, sunny and warm. Upon returning to the boat, we checked the forecast again and the Advisory was no longer in effect; so, our sails went back up and we traveled about 20 miles further up to another lovely anchorage.

The End of the Chesapeake At the north end of the bay in Maryland is the Chesapeake Canal which leads into Delaware. Before entering the canal is a marina and small basin for anchoring. And, here we found the Chesapeake Inn. What a scene it was when we arrived. We thought it was due to the Memorial Day weekend, but the waitress told us it was like this every 'nice' day. Cigarette boats (the long, sleek, very noisy and fast power boats) came and went all day, and the crowd gathered as if it were the hottest place on earth. We sat at the bar inside (didn't want to wait over an hour for a table), and ordered their famous pizza. This was exceptional pizza; a crust so light and tasty, not too thick, not too thin and wonderfully fresh toppings. You gotta go there!

Anchoring in the basin was another story, however. The basin was so crowded with small to large power boats and sailboats that we ended up anchoring 4 times. Despite the care we took, we still bumped with another boat early in the morning just as we awakened.

A Serendipitous Reunion with Cruising Friends

One of the wonderful things about cruising is the people you meet. We first met Nancy and Bruce of Seabird going south in the Dismal Swamp. We coincidentally kept pace with them throughout our trip allowing us to get to know them better. On the way north, however, we stopped seeing pretty much anyone we knew. We wondered where they all were. Well, after an 11 hour slog through the Delaware Bay motoring from the Canal (another record: 80 miles!), we came into the anchorage at Cape May, and luckily, I spotted Seabird through our binoculars! We were both so excited and invited them aboard to share our dinner which I had been able to prepare while motoring along: meatballs in a cranberry and chili sauce with stove top stuffing and broccoli. In the spirit of cruisers, they brought wine, an appetizer and dessert. They, too, are on their way home (to Maine), and are trying to use up all of their provisions. What a lovely time we had catching up and sharing experiences. Too bad we had to cut the evening short since we all had to be up at the crack of dawn to get an early start.

The Last Leg - The New and The Unfamiliar

The day before our approach to New York City thunderstorms were predicted. We were in need of a protected anchorage and Lou knew of one around the point from Coney Island. Who would think other than a boater that near the hustle and bustle of Brooklyn we could find such a secluded and lovely creek. We spent our last evening watching a male swan chasing the geese away from his cygnets. In the morning, we went under the Verrazano Bridge towards the NY skyline and by the afternoon passed the Tappanzee Bridge for our last meal of our 8 month trip. We were meeting our friends Marty and Mildred Stone at the Striped Bass, one of our favorite dock and dine restaurants in Tarrytown. (Can you tell who the sailors are?) At dusk, we headed across the river to the Nyack Boat Club to tie up for the night.

Home at Last

We are now ensconced in our home on land. It seemed a little strange at first, but now it feels as if we never went - and I'm writing this only a week after returning. I've begun donating clothes and items we really don't need or use because the house appears too cluttered. Right now we are consumed with what Lou calls the of "eternal dross of domesticity": cleaning, organizing, pruning, repairing, and the dreaded paperwork.

Will we go again? Probably, but not this year. Instead, we're thinking of heading to Maine in August/September. In the meantime, we hope to keep in touch with a few favorite cruisers we met along the way. And, of course, Lou has already begun to look at boats. After all, sailors aren't always cruisers. Ripple Effect started out as a sail boat, and along the way, it turned into a cruising boat. Although we weren't one of the smallest or simplest, we certainly were far less sophisticated than most. After all, it is written...

I must go down to the sea again, in a modern high-tech boat,

And all I ask is electric, for comfort while afloat,

And alternators, and solar panels, and generators going,

And deep cycle batteries with many amperes flowing.

I must go down to the sea again, to the autopilot's ways,

And all I ask is a GPS, and a radar, and displays,

And a cell phone, and a weatherfax, and a shortwave radio,

And compact disks, computer games and TV videos.

I must go down to the sea again, with a freezer full of steaks,

And all I ask is a microwave, and a blender for milkshakes,

And a watermaker, air-conditioner, hot water in the sink,

And e-mail and a VHF to see what my buddies think.

I must go down to the sea again, with power-furling sails,

And chart displays of all the seas, and a bullhorn for loud hails,

And motors pulling anchor chains, and push-button sheets,

And programs which take full charge of tacking during beats.

I must go down to the sea again, and not leave friends behind,

And so they never get seasick we'll use the web online,

And all I ask is an Internet with satellites over me,

And beaming all the data up, my friends sail virtually.

I must go down to the sea again, record the humpback whales,

Compute until I decipher their language and their tales,

And learn to sing in harmony, converse beneath the waves,

And befriend the gentle giants as my synthesizer plays.

I must go down to the sea again, with RAM in gigabytes,and teraflops of processing for hobbies that I like,

And software suiting all my wants, seated at my console

And pushing on the buttons which give me complete control.

I must go down to the sea again, my concept seems quite sound,

But when I simulate this boat, some problems I have found.

The cost is astronomical, repairs will never stop,

Instead of going sailing, I'll be shackled to the dock.

I must go down to the sea again, how can I get away?

Must I be locked in low-tech boats until my dying day?

Is there no cure for my complaint, no technologic fix?

Oh, I fear this electric fever is a habit I can't kick.

(written by Brian Eiland cat designer/builder)

Thanks to all of you who have followed our travels. We love your comments and emails. Until our next trip, Ripple Effect is over and out.