The boat was rigged and put on the water at Rogue's Harbor (Elk Neck State Park) by 11:30am. She was launched and underway by 11:40. Talk about a bigtime delay! Oh, well, at least I was on the water.
The wind started out considerably weak and I motored for about a mile away from the dock. As I was beginning to peek around the corner of Turkey Point lighthouse, the wind freshened and I raised the main. She snapped to rather quickly. Because of the quick response, I also raised the Genny. The ripples on the water continued to increase and I could see more cat's paws forming on the water. At this point, the wind was not enough yet to heel the boat, but she certainly caught what wind there was and worked with it. Because the boat was moving smartly, without the drastic heel, I was able to earnestly work on my trip channel card, at least before the real 'action' happened.
Sure enough, within the hour, I had cleared the first two pairs of channel
markers and was definitely clear of the Turkey Point lighthouse by at
least a mile. The wind was a steady breeze, WSW coming directly from
down the channel. If I was to make it to Rock Hall, I'm going to have to
tack out of the channel and try to overcome the wind direction. So, I
made the first tack, turning NW, going directly toward the Aberdeen Proving
Grounds (US Army). The idea was to move NW enough to be able to then tack
SW and reattain the channel further south, possibly closer to Poole's
Island.
Well, I was about fifteen minutes into the NW leg when I began to slow
down considerably. It was barely noticeable at first, but then I observed
that I was really fighting a rising tide (the water was quickly
moving upriver. So, for a good half hour, I had attributed my lack of
progress to the tidal flows. Enough said, I cranked up the outboard and
added a little to my speed. By this point also, I was ready for the new
tack and came about to go SW.
The extra power seemed to work for a while, but then I noticed that once again the progress was pitiful. It seemed like I was catching wind AND running the outboard at near throttle just to sit still against the tidal flow! This was not right. By the time I had reached this point of frustration, I had sailed another two miles.
However, I kept on and slowly but surely entered the mouth of the Sassafras River. It was by this point that I had the outboard still going strong, both sails catching a full head of air, but I was not moving at all. In fact, observing the boiling water at the stern revealed that I was merely pushing out a lot of water and yet I was dead stuck. That's when I decided it was time to go underneath and see what the problem was.
I was nervous, but had to do it. I dropped anchor, tied out a safetly line (unused line from bow cleat/chock to a stern cleat), put on a PFD and jumped in. Once I had jumped in (the water was very warm and felt good), I crept my way along the port side, using the safety line as a guide, to midships area. I felt underneath, but really felt nothing unusual. The only problem with this method is the fact that my arms were in no way long enough to reach the keel, which was six feet down.
I was just getting ready to unclip and remove the PFD when these two crab trap floats (markers) popped out from underneath the boat. It looked somewhat like that scene in Jaws when the two barrels harpooned to the shark suddenly popped out of the water beside Captain Quint's 'Orca'. I nearly purged right there in the water! The next observation was that 'Windswept' was suddenly freely floating about in the water. She was free!!
I couldn't believe it, but certainly realized that there were TWO crab traps somehow loosely latched on to my keel and were being wholly dragged for what was probably two miles! In thinking about it later, that certainly explained a lot about what I was experiencing.
I climbed back up into 'Windswept', took off the PFD, unrigged the safety line and raised the anchor. Amazing, because as soon as the anchor was back on my deck, I was drifting effortlessly up the Sassafras River. Left with little choice, I raised sails and made my way up the Sassafras toward Georgetown, MD. By this time it was just past 5pm. The channel card I was preparing before noon was no longer an effective tool. I set it aside.
I arrived at the docks to top off the gas tanks and water tank. I was told to hold off for about ten minutes by the dockmaster. I was told to sit tight because someone else, already fueled up and ready to leave, had to cast off and leave the dock. I didn't think anyone was so special that we had to await their departure until I looked over. I gandered at a fishing boat that was equipped with four (count 'em) ganged 300hp outboards! I'm talking 1,200 combined horsepower!!
I stood there and watched as the skipper of this boat fired up each engine.
As the din grew, so did the smoke around this stern of this boat. The
experience was amazing, to see this pleasure/fishing boat with all that
power at hand. I could only picture this thing trawling at 75...
I once again rented a mooring at the Georgetown Yacht Basin. There was
much to think about and a lot was learned in today's sail. Sleep came
easily.
Later on in the early evening, a quick squall came and blew hard in the area. The squall was strong enough to bounce Windswept around on her anchor line a lot!
The squall was quick and the sun returned in time for a gentle sunset. Again, I went to sleep easily and would've slept all the way through the night except for a strange encounter around 3am. In the dead of night came a 30' motor boat, slowly cruising amongst the anchored boats (there must've been a half-dozen other cruisers in the cove) and causing a disturbing wake while passing by. The wake was strong and pitched Windswept pretty hard. As suddenly as the boat came through, it had left.
Returned to Georgetown Yacht Basin by late afternoon and cleaned up the decks for a little while. Tonight I felt having more than the usual 'sandwiches' or 'soup' for dinner, so I hit the docks and went looking for some real sustenance. The local deli was closed already and it began to dawn on me that it was Sunday night and that all the decent businesses had probably closed down. Horrors! I was going to starve!!
Luckily, though, I had continued on to The Granary for dinner. When you consider that a few days away from 'civilization' heightens one's senses, then this evening on their cafe was the perfect return to civilization. I let loose with what was probably the definition of a cheeseburger in paradise, with a side of french fries and a cold beer (or two).
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