Daily Archives: 1 23 May 14

Friday, 23 May

It’s 0700 and anchor’s aweigh for Quintan.  The forecast calls for an already brisk northerly to build to 15-to-20 knots.  It should make for a rapid ride southward, back to Quintan’s home slip off the East River.  The crew of Steadfast enjoyed a second cup of “Joe” as Martha and George pause on the way past.  Good-byes and well-wishes exchanged, Quintan motors down Dividing Creek, headed for the Bay.

After a quiet night in Lawrence Cove, Quintan bids an early farewell on her way home to Mathews.

Steadfast, however, is bound northward, whence the wind blows this day.  And tomorrow, too, says NOAA.  That being the case, she may not make much northing but can give it a try, regardless.  So she shoves off at 1030 and, after a two-hour slog into a mostly three-foot chop, she moved a bit more than eight nautical miles northward to the mouth of the Great Wicomico River.  Solomons Island (MD)–the hoped-for next landfall–will wait ’til another day.

Instead, this evening she swings with each puff Aeolus blows over and through the trees that shelter the lovely cove east of Reedville in which she’s anchored.  This is a great spot (don’t tell anybody but it’s at N 37 degrees, 50.401’ W76 degrees 16.276’).  Handsome homes line the shore with only the sound of a John Deere lawn tractor competing with songs of the birds and the snap of the colors at the stern.

There’s none of the “smell of money” that wafted over Reedville in past visits.  Omega Protein has installed a new “scrubber” to its plant here to reduce that pungent fragrance.  Up Cockrell Creek a bit after midday, Steadfast was dwarfed by Omega’s big blue-hulled fleet.

Three of the dozen or more menhaden boats that work the Bay out of Reedville.

She may seek another nearby anchorage tomorrow, just for variety, but she’ll not test Aeolus at the mouth of the Potomac, not while he remains in this blustery mood.  And that’s okay.  Little Red–the Westerbeke–deserves a day off on a holiday weekend.  There are chores to be done, too, those that got pushed aside in the days and hours before departure, so a lay-over day won’t be wasted.

Things will be a bit different, though, from here on.  The “Dividing” done this morning, Steadfast and crew (and “Hallie” the black cat) now move on alone.  We miss our friends–all of you–already.  But this’ll be fun!

Steadfast out.

Thursday, 22 May

The distant sounds of artillery practice fire were heard on the Bay this afternoon.  The deep bass tones heard now are punctuated by sharp flashes of light that reflect off charcoal clouds moving eastward over Lawrence Cove.  Steadfast gently swings at anchor as the wind alternately shifts and quiets.  The first few drops on the canvas now are indistinguishable, washed away in the downpour that has followed.  She’s getting a good rinse!

All this transpired according to NOAA’s morning forecast, as had the light-to-non-existent so’westerly of the morning and afternoon as Steadfast motored back to the western shore in tandem with Quintan, another sunny, 80-degree, 30-mile day.

This cove off Dividing Creek was selected as the destination for its reputation as good shelter in a storm.  It’s worked out that way.  Martha and George stepped aboard this evening from Quintan presented the Steadfast crew with a gift selected for a similarly positive effect on the safety of a sailing vessel: a black cat.  Yes, that is the lore dating to ancient Egypt, even.  So who are we to question when, not long after this three-inch ceramic feline comes aboard, the rains yield to another good omen that arcs overhead to the north.

One suspects that for Steadfast and her crew, there may be a pot o’ gold at the northernmost end of that rainbow. And that would be an excellent forecast, indeed.

Steadfast out.