Leaving Annapolis: a little motoring, a little sailing, a little terror

Chesapeake Bay Bridge

The squeal of the engine overheat alarm went from subtle to shrill quickly. We exchanged a worried glance and wordlessly switched positions. While I settled in at the helm, studied the current and our best options for a safe landing Lance cracked open the engine compartment. A quick glance overboard showed the exhaust water was spitting out at a half-pressure dribble. We had just departed Back Creek channel from Bert Jabin's Yacht Yard after a restful and magical month of sight-seeing, puttering around on little boat projects, and a path-wearing parade of Amazon packages. The engine had seen some lovin' and we were both surprised at its unhappy noises. Lance pulled apart the raw water strainer, hoping to find the offending blockage but all we found was a little sludge. Not enough to cause the alarm, we rinsed it clean anyways. More troubleshooting required. We were in the middle of the busy channel with a slow current pushing us towards shallow water. I deployed the anchor so we could buy time to gather our thoughts.

Lance double-checked the ball valve, all good there. Something was definitely in the pipe or the hose blocking the raw water from coming in to the engine.

On Wednesday Nights the Outdoor Dine & Music on West Street is in full swing. It started off as a way to keep restaurants running during Covid but is on track to be a permanent good-weather standard.

I volunteered to be the one to go overboard and remove the offending blockage. I started thinking through everything I would need and where to find it - snorkel, mask, fins, all readily accessible. Oh - and I'd need something to poke with. Something like a long metal coat hanger. Wait... there's that one that came with the boat - it seemed like an important thing left behind by the previous owner and so we'd been moving it around the boat instead of discarding it. Lance remembered it the same time I did and brought it up with a grin. He removed the strainer cup and shoved it into the pipe and felt a pop and a freerun out of the boat. Plastic bag, wood, schmutz, octopus, snails, whatever it was that was blocking our precious raw water, it was then released back into the Severn River. He put the strainer back together and I restarted the engine which cooled right down, the anchor came up, we were on our way. Total delay 10 minutes. Best of all I didn't have to take an impromptu swim in the dark brown waters of the bay.

Chloe keeping an eye out for marauding ducks in Annapolis

Bert Jabin is the premiere boat yard in a city well known for boating. While we were there to take advantage of the marina itself and not necessarily for any professional work, we did pepper with questions all the pros we could keep up with as they speed-walked around the property from job to job. All month we'd heard woeful tales from other boaters as they worked through their own boat issues. For a minute we worried we'd be turning back to become one of them, landing on the working side of the yard instead of the fun side this time. But with cool heads and a moment for a breath we solved it ourselves. This time. Whew.

We had a destination in mind: Chesapeake City, 50 something miles away. It was hot and windless and so when we got bored with the sound of the motor and the heat we anchored in peaceful and lonely Still Pond. Well, our end of it was peaceful and lonely anyways. The shallow end had jetskis, powerboats and the constant thrum of generators. But other than the occasional wakes as they flew by they left us alone. The breeze eventually made an appearance as the sun went down and made for a restful night.

Chloe's run-crazy beach, an easy dinghy ride away

The thing about swinging on a lonely anchor is this... the world slows down and takes on an aspect of timelessness. It's easy to become completely absorbed in thoughts, a book, a phone call with a friend and it becomes all-encompassing. In hindsight I suppose many of my favorite hobbies are like this: motorcycling, scuba diving, road bicycling. Moments of terror interspersed among vast amounts of singular focus. No chance for the outside world to butt in. Some free space for the head and heart to recover from the daily onslaught and regain focus.

Lance was reading a book and humming to himself. Chloe was relaxing on the deck, the breeze in her fur. I perused the weather apps. The storm I'd been following online was adjusting course and the new projections showed it missing us and also our friends in North Carolina. Chesapeake City - we're coming for you.

The ICW, Virginia Cut, Great Bridge and Annapolis

The Alligator River Canal

After leaving Bellhaven we cruised the Alligator River, encountered our first swing bridge, and pushed on across a stormy Albemarle to tie up safe and exhausted at the Coinjock Marina. We decided to stay there for a couple of days to recover, enjoy their famous prime rib, and then motored on through the beautiful marshlands to the free docks at the Great Bridge.

The public park at the Great Bridge, perfect for long dog walks

At Great Bridge we were treated to a quiet and peaceful park perfect for long dog walks along the river, and giggled at the honking geese expending great effort to keep all their young together as they clumsily learned to negotiate the river banks and swim.

We were going to just stay the one night, but dark clouds rolled in so we decided to stay an extra day, and used our rainy downtime day to visit the Great Bridge Museum.

The Great Bridge is historically significant because it was the site of a great Revolutionary War battle in which the spunky and wily settlers conquered the mighty British Army, despite being outnumbered and significantly outgunned. The last villager to retreat off the bridge was Billy Flora, who bravely pulled the wooden planks off the bridge behind himself to further slow the British advance. By maintaining control of this bridge, the colonists denied British reinforcements that might have turned the tables on other other important battles in the region as well.

The Great Bridge is a drawbridge which opens on a schedule tied to the raising and lowering of the lock right behind it. On one day we counted 16 boats stacked up waiting for it to open.

While we were resting here we met cruisers from Camden Maine who were on their way home after an extended trip through the Bahamas. This part of the ICW is part of their annual route, and so they suggested we follow them through our first lock and the craziness of Norfolk VA the next day.

Our first lock had a difference of only 14", and was easy to negotiate.

Passing beyond the Great Lock signifies the end of the wind-driven tides and the beginning of the lunar tides, which are much more predictable. And finally some deeper water.

We met this fuel tanker in our lane. We decided to let him have the whole thing.

We scurried to get out of the way of a fuel tanker that surprised us around one bend, its two tugs pushing and pulling it into place for fuel off-loading. We waited for quite a long time at a railroad bridge so long trains of cargo and fuel could go by, Minerva dancing in circles to keep her place in line despite the current and the wind.

Commercial vessels such as this Core of Engineers ship always get the right of way at the bridges so it's a solid tactic to find one and keep up if you can for quicker green-lighting through the locks and bridges. The Core of Engineers maps the depths of the ICW and makes dredging recommendations. We are always happy to see them and are grateful for their service.

Norfolk has a military base and also a ship-building yard and there were several military and cargo vessels in various stages of build-out. After so much time in the quiet little village of Oriental and the timeless travel in the tranquil marshland beauty of the ICW, Norfolk was an assault on the senses; between the industrial smells and the cacophony of normal city life and the banging and clanking of the shipyards it was totally overwhelming. We set the hook at an approved anchorage just off of Hospital Point and were surrounded by city lights and noises and absolutely huge vessels moving around. The next morning I paddled Chloe to the tiniest snippet of beach in front of the hospital where we were greeted with big "no trespassing" signs... too late the dog was already off the SUP and frolicking on the sand. We paddled immediately back to Minerva and took off to Yorktown.

Minerva in Yorktown

The marina parked us alongside a day cruise commercial sailboat, we didn't know it at the time but it turned out to be the very same boat that sparked a dream of sailing for our friend Emily, who is now a liveaboard boat owner too.

A small cruise boat is nearly always parked here. Because we were sharing this dock with two professional cruise boats, many of the passengers came by to ogle Minerva too. More than once from inside our sailboat we heard "ooooh let's go out on Minerva instead". Yeah... no. Get your own boat.

Lord Nelson's house, Yorktown, built around 1730

Yorktown also has significant revolutionary war history. Once upon a time it was the place through which all colonist-made products were routed for tax purposes, the primary export for this region being tobacco, making it ground zero for the boiling resentment between the colonists and the British who established a Navy presence there to try to keep a lid on it. The subsequent battle here was won by George Washington and French allies, and visible holes remain on the hillside from the cannon and musket fire all those years ago.

The day we left Yorktown we crossed the wake of the original Jamestown settlers, one of my bucket list items, and we were out in the Chesapeake. And, alas, still no wind.

This is the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel, which looked weird on the charts and even weirder in person. Off to the left of the picture the pier legs support the bridge the cars drive in on, and they disappear into the tunnel behind that brick building. I wonder how many cars we motored right over.

Escaping this skinny water marina meant a 5:30 am departure. Tides wait for no one.

For most of our voyage to Annapolis from Oriental, we had either no wind, wind directly on the nose, or no room in the channel to maneuver, but we did eventually find amenable wind and put up the sails.

The anchorage in Galesville is also the starting point for the Wednesday night beercan races. We became an obstacle for the racers as they jockeyed for the best starting position.

Chloe stopping to smell the flowers at Solomon Island

Surreal late morning light bathes the Smith Point Lighthouse at the mouth of the Potomac

Coast Guard and Navy ships abound in this region, and there is always something interesting going on. On our way into Solomon Island we saw three fireboats practicing.

And then we rounded the corner, and we were there.

Annapolis. Finally.

Bert Jabin Yacht Yard, home for a month

We settled into a slip on G Dock at Bert Jabin Yacht Yard. This place is crazy busy. They store boats on the hard, using travel lifts and huge forklifts and a mountain of jack stands. Everything you need to get work done on your boat is here; professionals ranging from gel coat repair to diesel mechanics roam freely throughout the property.

Sling lifts and oversized forklifts at Bert Jabin Yacht Yard

Boat rests on the hard, still wearing its winterized shrink wrap despite the May heat

A forest of jack stands supports an assortment of boats on the hard 

On Tuesday we were shaken to the topsides with loud noises, the Blue Angels were practicing for the Naval Academy commissioning ceremonies by doing repeated low flyovers right over our heads. It went on all day. It was so loud. And so awesome. On Thursday our friend Ceri came to visit and we went downtown to an outdoor restaurant downtown and were interrupted from our cozy conversation by a great cheer from everyone seated in the area. The Blue Angels were walking amongst us in blue coveralls with yellow stripes. We tried to follow them into the bar but the crowd swallowed them up.

Painkillers at Pussers

All quiet between storms on the G dock

Minerva needs a new fuel lift pump, we'll settle here for a month or so and swap it out. This seems like the right place to get it solved.