Here we go again...

What new and interesting thing can one say about making the same exact trip for the FOURTH time around?  And forget writing this blog, sometimes I wonder why we are even doing this in the first place. Is it really a worthwhile adventure, or is it now just a habit?

Rick discovered a number of things wrong with the boat this spring. The windless (the electric mighty-motor that pulls up the anchor) was on the fritz, the depth sounder died and needed to be replaced, several of the old electrical circuits needed to be rewired, etc. You get the picture. By now we should be prepared for this, but of course being inveterate optimists, we were surprised and disappointed as usual.

The cabin, while work is being done.

After all of the work (and money) that has gone into this boat, Rick was quite discouraged. I made the suggestion that maybe we could take a summer off, stay at our house and really enjoy the season in Baltimore. I have loved our sailing trips up north, but I have really begun to miss the things we give up by leaving every summer. If we stayed we could hike a bit of the Appalachian Trail, buy fresh peaches and tomatoes at the farmer’s market, and spend time with our friends. Imagine – a summer free of boat hassles, seasickness and unpleasant smells from the head! For a while I thought Rick might even take me up on it, but unfortunately, he solved all of the problems, fell in love with the new sail we bought, and grew more and more excited about our trip north. So that’s it, “Goodbye city life, Green Acres, we––are­­––theeere!”

We’ve put Valkyrie in a new marina at Sparrows Point where she spent the winter. Young’s Marina is a quant little mom and pop kind of business that has a few slips just big enough for our boat. The amenities are pared down compared with the swankier marinas in Baltimore’s inner harbor, but the down-home feel of the place suits us much better – along with the much lower price tag. Plus, it’s only a half hour’s drive for us, and it’s located in a spot that can get us out in the Chesapeake quickly, skipping the four miles of dreary industrial scenery that lines the river out of Baltimore.

Valkyrie has been out of the water at Young’s since November (“on the hard” as they say), and we had her put back in (“launched”) in early May. Phil Young muscles the boat into his travel lift, a giant sling on wheels, then rolls the whole thing down to the water. Once lowered into the water, the inanimate, ten-ton boat seems to come alive, floating off the sling as though perfectly weightless.  

Phil Young driving the travel lift

Back in the slip!

Fast forward to July. We planned to leave on Monday, but as per our usual – too much stuff to do and too little time allotted - we’re finally getting out on Thursday. Yes, we’re taking off on July third, coinciding nicely with the arrival of Arthur, the first hurricane of the season! Rick thinks Arthur won’t effect us really, so it's anchors aweigh.

Our plan is to make it up to the Bohemia River today – a forty mile trip – and go through the Delaware Canal tomorrow, making it to Cape May in time for the Independence Day fireworks. We do a last minute grocery stop, and load up the boat for departure. It’s hot as blazes, and sweat is running in streams down my legs. I’d like to say that we leave the dock in a triumph of dancing and high-fives, but we’ve been in such a rush to get going that at the crucial moment I’m still down below trying to get everything stowed away. Very anticlimactic.

Storms are predicted for late in the day but we don't see anything yet. I insist that we enjoy our first cocktail hour of the trip before we get hit by lightning, so popcorn with gin and tonics are in order.

The storm turns out to be a good blow, with lightning, thunder, white caps and rain. At one point the dinghy flips over with the wind, but then flips again and rights itself. I try to retreat to the cabin below, but it is so hot down there with all of the portholes closed, and the boat is being tossed so much that I know I won’t last very long without getting sick. I reluctantly choose to stay in the cockpit and get hit by waves and rain. Rick tries to reassure me by insisting that the dangers of a lightning strike are pretty much as great down below as they are out in the cockpit.  Plus, getting struck will probably sink the boat anyway.  Now I feel so much better. He insists that we don the inflatable life jackets we keep on board, and I don’t argue.

The storm finally passes over us, and unscathed, we motor into the Bohemia to anchor for the night. Dinner and a sunset. Not such a bad first day.