An early morning bike ride around Tangier left the following impressions:
Neatly kept homes and yards, most with a low chain link fence around them. Almost no dogs but as one of Ryan's correspondents called it, a "feline fiesta!"
(One of them came to call on Calypso last night, use your imagination.)
Graveyards in the front yards of a dozen homes: Pruitt, Parks, Crockett and a couple other families predominate. Low country style with a big concrete slab on top to protect against high tides.
Golf carts the preferred method of transport, and several homes have built a 1 foot high platform in their yard for the cart, I presume to protect the cart from flooding.
But oddly few of the homes appeared to be raised up.
The big water tower in the center of town. TANGIER in large letters with a cross on one side and a crab on the other.
Not too much action in the shedding sheds where they put the crabs while they wait for them to molt to sell as soft shells. The season must be coming to a close.
No jackstands at the boat yard. 50 gal drums and a few blocks of wood prop up the watermens' boats.
Mr. Parks, still in his Sunday go to meetin' charcoal grey suit and tie, helping day trippers tie up at a slip. Then he hops on his scooter so he doesn't have to walk from one end of the dock to the other.

Went to Hilda Crockett's family style all you can eat restaurant for lunch since we missed it last night. A bit overrated and overpriced. Oh well, we are supporting the island. And we sat next to a pleasant young couple from Manhatttan and a foursome who flew their Piper Cherokee in for lunch.

Motored in flat calm back across the Bay to Deltaville. Still analog only signal from Sprint so it looks like we will be off the digital grid for another day. A wisp of a new moon. A couple dozen boats anchored here. Looks like the snowbird migration has begun.

The entrance to Jackson Creek is fun. Straight in until you can reach out and get a burger from the deck of the house on the beach. So it seems. Then bang a hard left.