Spring in Solomons
May 6, 2013
Ok, enough of delays, we are now back aboard and ready to sail from this place, albeit a wonderful place. We are most fortunate to be doing this, to sail places we have never been. Unlike our home waters, we have no idea what the approach to the harbors north of here will be. The charts tell us where we need to go and how deep the water is. For us the magic number is five feet of depth. We have freedom to challenge ourselves and seek out those spots on the charts that interests us but so many have sailed these waters before us that we attempt to ignore the guides other than to be safe. We might not want to know all the special stuff about “what’s around the corner” lest it diminish the joy or regret of having found it for ourselves. Imagine how it must have felt to Capt. John Smith to have sailed up a river and found the perfect site to start Jamestown four hundred years ago. My imagination allows me to filter out the thousands of boats that might be there and simply see the little back water as if it were the first time a sailor has been there. True, this might not be practical in oh, say, Long Island Sound but it did work in the Low Country of the Carolinas.
We purchased a book that discussed in romantic terms the waters of New England. Said book was written in the early 1900s and has been revised only 12 times since. The latest version still references Loran navigation which has not been in wide use for about 20 years. The author must have been a member of the Great Gatsby crowd since he reminisces about the days before “plastic” boats as if to say that unless one sails a 40 meter wooden/brass yacht whilst wearing a Navy blazer con ascot, one is really just cluttering the scene. My guess is that the proper “yachtsmen” of yesteryear also wore socks. Well, scoot over Old Stick, here we come, the Coopers of Port Aransas and our dawg Scurv of less than noble birth. May your caviar have the aroma of monkey droppings.