Solace

On September 20th we leave beautiful quiet Reedville to make a trip across the Chesapeake Bay to visit a little island called Tangier. The size of Tangier is quite small, 3 miles by 1 mile. We sail across the bay on this morning and it takes almost 3 hours to get to our destination, but sailing with no motor going is always the preferred method of travel. It might take a bit longer, but the ride itself, is always better. The distance to Tangier from Reedville is about 12 nautical miles.
Because the winds are in our favor this day for sailing, we use both the jib and the mainsail. I am again practicing staying on course by following our compass heading and also by sighting a landmark and using that. On trips such as this, I have learned that we do not use the red and green channel markers as much as we use landmarks and headings. The red and green markers, you may remember, are used primarily to mark the shipping channels and passage from one end of the bay to the other and to come from sea. Steering a course has taken some practice. When all you see on the horizon is water, then watching the compass becomes very important in order to maintain your course. I was thrilled when we did see the tops of the trees on Tangier Island.
As we near Tangier, the daily ferry from Reedville passes us, full of tourists going for their visit too. The ferry makes a daily run to the island. It seems that the trip on the ferry is about 1 hour, compared to our trip of 2 and half hours. As we approach the island the passageway way is clearly marked with red and green markers, making our entry pretty clear cut. Andy has called ahead to Parks Marina asking for a slip at the dock for the night. Mr. Parks is known to be quite the character, and Andy suggests that I “talk him up” when we arrive, because he likes the girls. I immediately wondered if I should put on my makeup, which, by the way, I have not applied in 5 months! After Andy called to reserve a slip for the night, Mr. Parks called us two times on the radio to see when our arrival time might be. I think he was just as excited about our visit as I was. Mr. Parks assured us that he would be waiting for us at the dock to help us get in. There is a fairly strong current that runs through the channel where the docks are, so getting Solace into the slip takes some fancy maneuvering. Captain Andy did that of course. I think I am years away from docking the boat, but I am willing to learn when the time comes.
We arrive at the tiny island and slowly begin to navigate the narrow channel to the docks. Upon arrival, I see workboat after workboat, in slips, with little shanties attached to each dock. The boats are lovingly named after their moms or their wives. I see one that is named Cynthia Lou. My father called me Cindy Lou when I was little  Of course, that was my favorite. The docks are filled with crab pots, hundreds of them. It is apparent that the fishermen rely on crabbing for a living. Tangier is known for its soft shell crabs. What is sad is that we know the crabbing has been terrible, so I suspect that many fishermen and their families are struggling to make a living. The pots would be in the water if they were catching crabs. On this day, there are several men working on their boats, or in the work shed, busying themselves with work related things. One man is painting his boat, another is working on the crab pots, and another is standing in his work shed late in the day, and I think partaking in a “nip”. We see many small johnboats moving up and down the channel and hear two men talking about the frustration of the crabbing experience. Sound travels across the water, so we feel as if we are a part of their conversation. The awesome thing is that they sound hopeful that things will get better.
When we radioed Mr. Parks that we have arrived, he assures us that he will help us in and that he will be waiting for us. Sure enough, when we inch our way in, we hear a “beep, beep”, and sitting at the end of the dock, is a young looking “80 something year old” gentleman, sitting on a scooter, waving at us. This is Mr. Parks. Brings a smile to my face as I think about it  He proceeds to “holler” direction to Andy and me about how to dock the boat. Now you must understand that Andy is the Captain, and I have learned that I should listen to the captain and his direction. I am holding a dock line and waiting on Andy to give me further direction. Meanwhile, Mr. Parks is calling me sweetheart and giving me instruction as well. Gets a girl rather confused! I also know from experience that Andy knows his boat and what to do. I try very hard to ignore Mr. Parks’ direction and wait on Andy. I think Mr. Parks finally figured that out, because he finally hollered to Andy and me that he was an old man and that he had been telling people what to do for 80 years, so it is hard to change an old man. Andy moved right into the slip, even with a strong current, and tried to appease Mr. Parks by acknowledging his directions. All was good. Mr. Parks was a charmer, and I was looking forward to more chats with him. I immediately let him know that he was the first gentleman to meet me at the dock on a scooter. I secretly hoped that he might take me on a ride.
We did the usual get the boat ready to live in, instead of sail in, procedure. Then we went and took a welcomed shower with lots of warm water. We wanted to talk a walk on the island and see the sights. It will be hard to explain the lifestyle that we observed. The few paved roads are very narrow, just about as wide as a car. Speaking of cars, I only saw one car, and it was parked in a yard. We immediately heard scooters coming from all directions, and golf carts and bicycles everywhere. The ferry had landed, so there were lots of people roaming around, tourists like us. It was abundantly clear that the folks living on this little island have very little to do, compared to what we know as living and working. I counted five little restaurants, and three little souvenir shops. There was also a B and B, called Heavenly Haven, which was about the size of a single wide trailer. Neat and tidy, but not what most of us consider to be a Bed and Breakfast. They did have a vacancy School had just let out, and there were children of all ages on their bicycles, or scooters. I think too, that all the women on the island were out and about on their scooters and bicycles. Andy and I wove our way through the activity. The houses on Tangier are very old, and have history that I will never know. We wanted to take a golf cart tour with one of the locals, but this did not work out. After the ferry pulls out at 4 o’clock, the tourist traps shut down.
We strolled the streets and located the post office, the community center, the church (appeared to be only one), and the museum and historic homes. One especially charming house was the Patrick Benson home purchased in 1879 by a ship’s captain from Dublin Ireland. The post office door was plastered with papers full of ads and things for sale. It was like a community bulletin board. We were too late to visit the museum, and too late to get the golf cart tour by a local. We made plans to do that the next morning. Unfortunately, we could do neither the next morning, as we learned that they did not begin or open until later in the day. They clearly start their day when the ferry boat arrives with tourists in great numbers. We did not qualify.
We managed to find a restaurant open past 6 pm and decided to have dinner at Lorraine’s. All the other places closed earlier. We had a decent dinner of crab cakes… very large crab cakes and fries. Enough crab cake to take some home for sandwiches the next day. Our dining experience was interesting, because the waitress and cook came out and sat down at the table beside us. Andy and I were the only customers at the time, with seating available for at least 80 people. We hardly filled the restaurant! I think the ladies wanted us to feel welcome, so they struck up a conversation by asking where we were from, and then it gave me the opportunity to ask some burning questions that I had.
I was most curious about the school and education on the island. We learned that there are 68 children of school age on the island. The school has enough teachers and staff to meet the needs of all grade levels, with two classes being taught together in K/1 and 6/7. Average class size…4 to 6 children! Being an educator, that would be my dream class! Unlike the island of Sapelo, in Georgia, the children are not ferried across to the mainland for school. The reason for this is primarily weather and wind conditions in the winter prohibit safe travel for the children. The state of Virginia must continue to provide the education for the children, so it appears that the little school house on Tangier is held to the state requirements of all children in the state. They receive the same core curriculum that any child in VA has, including foreign language and college prep courses. I very much wanted to make a visit to the school and talk with the principal, and hopefully get to see the kids and classes in action. I plotted my plan to get up early the next morning and do a “surprise visit”. However, just before crawling into bed, and excited about my plan, I realized that it was Friday evening….so, no school in the morning. We also met one of the teachers who came into the restaurant to pick up his meal. He grew up on the island and was now teaching. He taught history and physical education. It was most interesting talking with these locals. The people on the island speak something close to the “Queen’s English”, as Andy describes it. It is an accent clearly different than any I have heard before.
The homes are very old, and most are very small and modest. Each one is decorated with yard art and items that most of “us” would label junk. There are many homes along the way that have historical markers, indicating the past owners and their livelihoods. Many yards have tombstones and graves in the yard because dry land is hard to come by. The reason given for this is the need to protect the family member from being lost in floods. There are also cemeteries everywhere you look. I assume that everyone who has ever grown up on the island is then buried on the island. Imagine how many people that is if this has gone on for hundreds of years.
The island of Tangier is charming and I have it on my list of places to return to next time I am up this way. I still have a million questions that I would like to ask the locals. I would like to learn more about how they do the soft shell crabs, but we did not see this happening because of the bad season. We did see the equipment and boxes that they use, but nothing going on. I would like to spend an afternoon with children, both young and teens, to see how they see their world, and what their hopes and dreams may be. Andy shared a story of a father he met some 20 years ago on the island who had two daughters. They were both ready to graduate, and one said she was leaving Tangier the minute she turned 18, and the other said that she would never leave. It leaves me wondering so many things about how they live. It was very clear that there is a sense of community that we do not see any more in much of mainstream America. I had to chuckle knowing that everybody knows every body’s business! Oh, and one more thing, I want to get that ride on the back of Mr. Parks’ scooter. So, I will be back Tangier Island!