October 20 Solomons to Cape Henry - 41 Miles

It was cold in Mill Creek last night, in the low 40s -- a two cat night. We have no heat except when plugged into shore power so we closed off the doors to the forward head and the salon, making the pullman cabin small, and with all three blankets, two cats and two humans, had a comfortable night.

The morning was warmer and calm in Mill Creek and we set out for Deltaville, which we had somehow bypassed on all of our prior trips.  On the way out, Lene got us onto the sand at the right side of the channel but we dropped the sail and were able to back off in reverse.

Out in the Bay, we were close hauled on a starboard tack but true wind was only ten knots and we were able to make our way close to the turn west for Deltaville using full sails.  It was early so we decided to continue on to Yorktown. But then the wind came up and we had to use the smaller head sail and the chop came up so we needed to use an assist from the engine, and the wind veered a bit forcing us further east than we wanted.  I saw that we would have to tack near Virginia's Eastern Shore and would have another twenty miles on a port beat, westward across the Bay and up the York River to Yorktown. We ended sailing almost seven hours, I was getting tired and the idea formed: Why not stay the night on the Eastern Shore?

Lene checked the cruising guide and the town of Cape Charles, with its Harbor of Refuge, a man-made basin cut into the coast line, containing its municipal marina, was close. It was approached by a well marked 2.7 mile long channel heading east and then NE. I love well run municipal marinas; they are a reply to those who think that government is the source of our problems rather than the solution to many of them. The town is about nine miles north of the actual Cape for which it is named -- the southern tip of the Delmarva peninsula. It is a quiet town especially when we explored it, late on a Monday afternoon, after giving ILENE her bath. We strolled the main drag and saw signs indicating new businesses were opening. The port is still largely for commercial fishing and barges for the cement factory across from us. But the sunset, looking across the Bay isn't shabby. Note the tanker on the horizon at the left; more on this later.

We had dinner at The Shanty, the restaurant located in the marina and I won't describe each dish (this ain't no food blog) but the cooking was imaginative, well executed, delicious and inexpensive. We bought this PVC and driftwood egret there, to add to our aviary sculpture collection.

Speaking of sculptures, here are two mermaids, seen during out stroll through town.

Two sad things happened out there today. We saw several boats, close together, off our port bow, one giving off a plume of white smoke. We heard some incoherent VHF radio chatter about a fire. Normally, such chatter is about nautical events tens of miles away. We saw a helicopter overhead. We called to offer further assistance but got no response. Then, after we had passed, the flames ranged 30 feet high and great clouds of black smoke emanated.

Someone's dreamboat is no more. News reports state that the boater was rescued by a good samaritan who got there before us; no one was injured.

The other sad event was the probable death of my Ipad. It fell out onto the swim platform and there was bathed in salt water. A smaller loss than of an entire boat, but more personal. It put a crimp in Lene's relationship with me for a while. "I told you not to leave it up here!" she said. She was in a foul mood; stewing in her anger. A few hours later I reminded her that after I had told her not to carry her cell phone in the dink unless contained in a zip lock, or stronger, plastic bag, she fell in the surf at Grand Turk Island. On that occasion I simply let her use my cell phone. Memory of that earlier comparable sad event of 2012 cooled out her anger.