Herring Bay - A Learning Experience

SHIP'S LOG:

After I dropped the anchor in Herring Bay and had supper, it seemed the end of a very fine day. Two other sailboats were anchor near by, not close but near by, and we were a cosy- wave-at-a-distance community of sailors. I did all my normal checks and went to bed and slept the sleep of the just . . . . until about 1:30AM when "the wind shes astarted to blow!" I don't think the gusts got to be more than 30 knots but it was the fact that NOAA had forgotten to mention the possibility that was most irksome. Herring Bay is on the western shore of the Bay and the wind was coming out of East/Northeast with nothing to impede its progress. I was in 15 feet of water with 110 feet of rope rhode, 12 feet of chain, a 35lbs CQR Plow anchor, and 30 lbs of additional anchor weights on the rode. The boat wasn't going anywhere, not in that amount of wind, but that didn't stop me from worrying about it. I got up twice to check and left the GPS on all night. The GPS plotted the movement of the boat and gave the depth of the water under the keel. ABISHAG didn't move out of a fifty foot circle and never seriously approached single digit depths. Of course, at night everything seems magnified, all the noises, all the movements, and when you are rocking up and down, sometimes not too gently, it can work on your mind. I know that I must have gotten some sleep but it sure didn't seem like it. I kept waiting for the anchor to pull out, the rode to part or something else to go wrong . . . . but nothing did. I had set everything up well, as I do every night, for just such an unexpected event. Through truth be told, I did ask God several times to get me through the night!

The morning didn't look to hot and the weather was iffy to say the best, but since I had the course already laid in, I took off for Patuxent River and the Solomon Islands. It was a trip of about 31 miles, the longest trip alone on this particular journey. The wind was out of the east but light so I motor-sailed and made really great time. Along the way I was passed by the US Navy Hospital Ship COMFORT. It has the nicest captain I have yet heard. When he contacted a ship in front of him and asked him to maneuver, he would take the time to explain why he want the other ship to move and seemed to suggest the what was to their best advantage. A far cry from" I am passing you to starboard!" with no ifs, ands or buts.

Anchoring in the Solomon Islands, an area just inside the mouth of the Patuxent River, is really something. all the homes are magnificent. If they aren't receive mansions, they are old homesteads with the look and panache of ages. When I dropped my hook out in front of this one house and set about making the boat ready for the night. The owner came out with a friend and I could hear them and see them talking and pointing to my boat. I kind of felt for them. If I lived there, having me park my boat "in their front yard" would irritate me some too.

So far, there hasn't been a lot of sailing on this trip, but tomorrow, weather permitting , will be a sailing day. I will head out of the Patuxent and turn right and either anchor somewhere in St. Mary River, at the mouth of the Potomac or continue south and anchor somewhere in the Great Wicomico River. I wonder what's so great about it?

MASTER'S PERSONAL LOG:

Strangely, even though I haven't really gone all that far since losing Bob & Fred, it seems almost as though I am really pushing it. Today was the farthest trip yet and it was only 31 miles! I don't know why I feel it but it seems like I am rushing and pushing. True, I do want to get back to wearing shorts and tee-shirts, but it is more the attitude. I want to get somewhere. Where I am not quite sure but somewhere. I am really struggling to enjoy each day where I am. It is getting a little easier, but I am still looking too much ahead instead of living in the moment. After all, what's the rush?