Oct 26-29:  The Potomac River to Washington DC

     At Point Lookout Marina on Monday morning we borrowed their courtesy car and drove off to the grocery store for some provisioning.  The woman in the office had given simple directions "It's pretty easy to find" she'd said, and indeed, we came up to the little store with no trouble.  However, it was more of a general store that catered to snacks and dollar-priced items, not exactly what we were looking for.  I approached a fellow customer who looked at me strangely when I asked where we might find fresh vegetables and meats.  She thought a moment and then admitted there was nothing like that "around here" and gave us directions for a town about twelve miles away.  Where do the locals shop, we wondered?  Anyway, we found the Food Lion and it had everything we were looking for, and returned to the Marina to prepare for departure.
     Dan disappeared for a few minutes while I stowed food, and returned with my birthday present - a small winch for the mainsail halyard.  Now I can raise the mainsail by myself!

     We set off for a leisurely cruise up to Cobb Island, at the mouth of the Wicimico River, where we spent a quiet night at anchor.

     Tuesday we set off about mid-morning, intent on taking advantage of the tide and the current.  It was a fairly gray day, and sprinkled lightly much of the afternoon, so we piloted from inside the pilothouse, poking our head outdoors only to see if we had company or to take the occasional picture.  We're beyond the tourist season here, so we pretty much had the river to ourselves, although we did see an FBI dive boat as we came past Quantico, and a couple of yachts passed us on their way down the river.  Much of the river's edge mid-Potomac is wilderness, dotted with trees showing their fall colors (muted today because of the overcast skies) and we spied a few species of ducks, loons, terns, and a couple of bald eagles.  We came past Mallows Bay, where the rotting hulks of wooden World War I boats were left to disintegrate.  We made it all the way to Mt. Vernon, where we anchored just outside the channel for the night, just as the rain started to come down more steadily.

Cliffs at Quantico

One of the wrecks in Mallows Bay

Mt. Vernon

      It rained all night and into Wednesday, and we passed on a visit to Mt. Vernon, where George and Martha Washington lived on a large plantation.  Instead we just hauled anchor and headed the final fourteen miles up to Washington DC.  If it was going to rain most of the day, we thought we'd rather be there.  On the way, we passed Fort Washington, built in 1809, the only defensive fort built to protect Washington DC.

Fort Washington

We anchored in the Washington Channel, next to East Potomac Park, just before lunchtime.
     It's amazing to find an anchorage right there practically next to the Mall.  We are in sight of the Washington Monument, and just a short walk away from all the Memorials.  We signed up for dinghy privileges at the Capitol Yacht Club - $16/day gives us access to all the Yacht Club's amenities plus walking distance to everything in DC.
     We met up with longtime friend and former crew member Erica who lives in DC with her husband Lance and their two boys Elias and Simon.  Erica gave us directions to come to her end of town via the Metro (an experience in itself) and we enjoyed a wonderful home-cooked meal with the whole family and friends.
     We'll be in DC for a couple of days.  Today - Thursday - it's sunny and warm and we plan to do lots of walking to see the sites.  Tonight we'll meet up with Dan's high school AFS brother Thomas who is in town from Germany on business.

Saturday & Sunday Oct 24 & 25th: Oxford to Solomons and into the Potomac

     Right after breakfast I looked out the pilothouse window and there perched on the pulpit was a little bluebird.  Hope it’s an omen for us.  He spent long enuf for us both to see him, and he was off.  And so were we, off to cross the Bay once again, this time heading SW for Solomons Island.  Not much breeze, and a good thing as most of the way it was right on our nose. A chilly day, but still good enuf to be outside.  We had some company on the Bay, but even tho it was Saturday not that many boats. We recognized several South-bounders as they passed us.  Most turned into Solomons with us, where we rafted  up with Bill and Kathi of the  sloop Jarana, folks we had met in June on the St Lawrence River.  We had been playing cat and mouse since then, finally caught them.  We shared a drink and some cheese and crackers and compared notes of our summers’ trips.  At suppertime we broke off and headed up the Back Creek to anchor off the Calvert Maritime Museum.

     Sunday we dinghied ashore to the Calvert Maritime museum dock first thing in a light rain.  The Museum was not open yet so we ventured up the road to West Marine in hopes of finding a propane sniffer, part of our repairing boats in exotic places routine.  No sensor.  We then walked the road to “town” of which there is very little aside from the numerous marinas.  I can’t even begin to count them, or the boats there-in.

     The museum was very well laid out, and besides the ever present screw-pile light-house, the small boat collection, the working “2-sail” oyster sloop and the powered “Buy Boat”, much of the museum was dedicated to the marine life of the bay and the fossils found locally in the  Calvert Cliffs.

Calvert Cliffs

Calvert Marine Museum

     Back at the boat we took advantage of the afternoon to run down the bay 20 miles to the mouth of the Potomac River.  A little choppy at first, but it calmed down as we went.  Fall is definitely in the air, but we saw more pelicans, so feel we are moving in the right direction.

     Very quiet traffic-wise on the bay, altho we were flanked by a tug towing a construction barge and a smaller barge with a tugboat on it.  We also passed a jack-up barge which was servicing a lighthouse.  we saw a tug pushing a two barge load of concrete bridge beams.

    We ended our travel day at Point Look-Out Marina, on an almost deserted pier where we had our pick of slips.  After supper we made a bee-line for the laundry, two washers!, and showers.

Sunset at Point Lookout Marina, Smith Creek

Friday Oct 23: Annapolis to Oxford

     The bascule bridge on the Spa Creek closes from 0730 to 0900, so either you get out before that or you wait for the morning traffic.  We planned to be out at 0700, but when the sun doesn’t rise until just after that, you tend to sleep late.  We hustled to get out during the last opening, and were the last boat out of the creek before the bridge closed down at 0730.

     The water was a bit choppy and the SW winds didn’t help matters, but it was a good cruise across the bay through the picturesque Knapps Narrows to the little town of Oxford. 

     We passed by many different fisherman.  Some were tending their crab pots, some were tonging for oysters, and some were dredging for clams.  We also came across some duck hunters who had deployed a raft of decoys behind their vessel.  Duck season began recently,  and we hear that goose season starts next week.  We gave them a wide berth, though probably not wide enough to their liking, and a short time later heard a couple shots from their guns.  Up until today we had thought duck hunting happened in marshes, or at least close to shore, and we’d seen a few duck blinds although no hunters.  Now we know.  

Crabbers setting their traps.

Clam dredgers.

One of many duck blind.  Didn't get a picture of the duck hunters and their decoys - we were too busy avoiding them!

     We got to Oxford a little after noon.  Oxford is a small, charming but depressed town with cute little houses on narrow streets and not much to offer the transient boaters beyond the marinas.  Still, we enjoyed a walk through, and as always, the people we met were very friendly.  It was our 27th anniversary today, and we celebrated with a pint of moose tracks ice cream purchased from the tiny general store in town.  

Thursday Oct 22: Annapolis

     Wednesday afternoon, with a heavy heart, we bid farewell to cousins Denny and Laura and Rock Hall, and to Tommie, may she have found a wonderful new home with people who love her.  Our crossing of the Chesapeake was fairly uneventful, and the sun setting as we went under the Memorial Bridge was colorful, heralding the warm day we would have in Annapolis.

     We dropped the hook up in Spa Creek, arriving at the bascule bridge just in time for the last opening.  Annapolis is known for boating;  to accommodate boaters, most streets that dead-end on Spa Creek have a dinghy dock.  So handy!  On Thursday we rowed over to Market Street and tied up for our walk into town.

     Annapolis is Maryland’s state capital and also home to the US Naval Academy, where we spent much of our day.  They welcome visitors.  Dan and I watched the inspirational fourteen minute movie of the academy students’ fours years, then set off to explore the campus on our own.  Only a handful of the buildings are open to the public, including the Naval Academy Maritime Museum, housed in Preble hall.   The elderly volunteer at the museum desk asked if we were interested in Noon Formation, and advised us to turn around and go to watch the students gather in companies before we entered the museum.  Good advice!  We went over to the parade grounds outside Bancroft Hall as students began to form up for their noon inspection.  Every day at noon all the students on campus (some 3,000 +) stand with their classmates while the Naval Academy band plays cadences.   When the swordsmen had sheathed their weapons and all the students had filed into the Hall (presumably for lunch), the band marches to the center and played the Navy theme, the Marines theme, and God Bless America.  It was quite impressive to watch.  We thanked the volunteer at the Museum for making sure we got to see it.

     The Museum too is impressive.  The first floor is a historical overview of the role the Navy has played in America, from its conception in the Revolutionary War to present times.  The second floor contains an incredible collection of models, very intricate and some of them over two hundred years old.  There is an entire room devoted to the models and other art work produced by French POWs held in England prisons in the nineteenth century.  The POWs, using materials found in the their prison yard or gathered from their daily rations, built ship models, cases for glasses, and other small works of art and their captors encouraged their sales at open air markets.  Some of the ships are entirely made from the bones leftover from their meals.  Really something to see, if you ever get to Annapolis.

     After our tour of USNA, Dan and I walked across the bridge spanning Spa Creek, to the town of Eastport, where we met up with my friend Janie Meneely.  Janie is Annapolis born and bred, a local folk musician who also works as managing editor for Chesapeake Bay Magazine.  We had a great evening together.

Oct 19-20-21:  Still in Rock Hall

     If there is anything more frustrating than not being able to figure out why there is an alarm going off, we don't know what it could be.  On our approach to Rock Hall on Sunday an alarm suddenly started sounding.  It was windy and rough, and we'd been bouncing along for about an hour when the noise started.  The only light flashing was the alarm light.  We lost the tachometer temporarily but everything else was working just fine.  Logically, it seemed to be that all the motion had jarred a wire loose somewhere.  We weren't in a position to check it out just then, and put up with the noise as we made our way into Haven Harbour Marina in Swan Creek.
     Since then, Dan has been shoulder-deep in the engine.  Loose wire?  Couldn't find one.  Alternator?  Nope, seemed to be doing its job.  Batteries are charging.  Engine starts just fine.  The instrument panels shows all readouts working fine.  It's just that every time the engine starts, the alarm starts too.  (Since we're a motor-sailor, we'd kind of like to make sure this problem is fixed for good.  We don't move without the engine running.)  There were many calls to Beta Marine, who suggested it might be a faulty regulator. We are in a full-service marina at which both my cousin and his wife work, so we have access to consults who concurred and a new regulator was ordered and delivered in record time.  However, it turned out the new regulator did not shut down the alarm.  More calls to Beta Marine.  Ground wire, they suggested.  Check the ground wire at the bottom of the engine.
     Now, the engine schematic that came with the new engine (put in only a few years ago) has never been accurate.  It calls for wires that aren't where wires actually are, wires with different colors than actually exist, and other anomalies.  Yet Dan patiently (and not-so-patiently) traced and checked wires as he sought out the problem.  At one point it seemed things were fixed, but that proved not to be the case.  He is still working on it as I write this.
     In the meantime, we've spent some time with my cousin Denny and his wife Laura, explored a little bit of Rock Hall by bicycles (supplied by the marina) as we visited local marine and hardware stores, and we've been looking for our cat Tommie.
     Sometime on Sunday evening she decided to go walkabout and hasn't been back since.  There have been possible sightings in the extensive marina grounds, but she has remained elusive.  We are staying positive, believing she is actually wandering the grounds and finding comfortable accommodations in the millions of places to hide, as well as plenty of food in the nearby marshes. We have since heard several missing cat stories where cats eventually returned to their owners, sometimes after a couple of months! and we hope this will be the end to our story too.  We miss her terribly and hate the thought of moving on without her.  My cousins, the other employees of this marina and the people in the very friendly town of Rock Hall are all helping us keep an eye out.  We've placed posters, notified vets and shelters, walked the docks and the yard several times.  In the meantime, we wait, and hope, and Dan takes out his many emotions on the engine chasing down that alarm problem.

   

Oct 16 - 18:  Severn River to St Michaels and up to Rock Hall

     Friday the 15th we left Baltimore after a nice walk through the brick-paved streets of Fells Point where we admired the early nineteenth century architecture and read all the billboards about the history of the area and its contributions to the War of 1812.   We hoisted sails and cruised back down the river and under the big double bridge that connects the Western Shore with the Eastern Shore, en route to the Severn River where we'd been offered the use of the McGeady family dock.

Annapolis

     We passed by Annapolis, where the US Powerboat Show was in full swing, and up the quiet river almost to its end.  "Big Joe" McGeady was waiting on the dock for us.  What a lovely quiet cove.  The trees were just starting to turn.  They must be spectacular in peak season.  We spent two nights at the dock and enjoyed our time with Big Joe, who found a laundromat for us and chauffeured us there on Saturday and to do other errands, entertaining us with anecdotes about his past working on the water in marine construction, his present various volunteer jobs, current history and climate of Baltimore and the area, and his extensive family.  It was fun getting to know him, and we really appreciated his hospitality.  He and his wife Emily also allowed us into their home for hot showers.

Willie Dawes at the McGeady dock

Nightfall with crescent moon.

     We decided to bypass Annapolis until the boat show was over, so we bid goodbye to the Severn River and crossed the Bay to St. Michaels, where the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum is.  What a fabulous town and what a nice museum!  Admission gives you two days' entrance, much needed to see all the exhibits.  We spent all afternoon exploring the various buildings and returned again in the morning to make sure we didn't miss anything they had to offer.  Saturday night we had dinner out at a boater-friendly ("we welcome shorts and boat shoes") restaurant.

"Screw-pile" light house - moved from Hooper Strait to the CBMM.  Pilings were screwed into the sand for a more secure footing and the house built on the platform above.  Ice destroyed many of these lighthouses.

Mitchell House at CBMM. Eliza Mitchell was the sister of Frederick Douglass.  The left portion of the house is original; the right portion is a replica of the addition.  The Mitchells raised nine children here, though not all at the same time.

      Sunday we set out up the Bay, cruising through Kents Narrows, to Rock Hall where my cousin Dennis and his wife Laura had reserved a slip for us at Haven Harbour Marina.  The winds were strong from the North, and the seas were some choppy, bouncing us around a lot.  So much so, something jiggled loose in the engine and alarms buzzed steadily for the last hour of our trip.  Alternator, Dan thought, or a battery wire.  Something electrical.  Good thing this is a full-service marina, I thought; if this turned out to be something major that Dan needed help or parts for, he'd surely find it here.  Turns out it's more of a frustration & headache than a major problem.  The engine is fine, the alternator is working, the batteries are charging.  We just have a buzzing alarm going off when the engine is turned on.  Dan will track it down.  We planned to be here a couple of days anyway, as I haven't spent much time with Dennis and Laura in a very long time, and Dan had never met them.  They had us over to their house last night for a wonderful home-cooked meal and sent us home with goodie bags for our fridge.

Oct 14: Parade of Sail in Baltimore

    We had a leisurely morning in Bodkin Creek, about as urban a cove as we have ever seen.  At every house a dock and boat, but just as still as a mill pond.

Great Blue Heron and Bald Eagle keeping an eye on each other from their perches.

Baltimore Skyline

     Underway at 1030 for a trip against the wind to Baltimore.  We toured the inner harbor then stopped to speak Capt Jessie Briggs of the AJ Meerwald. The AJ Meerwald was built in 1928 as an oyster dredger in Delaware Bay and survived 15 years of oystering, years commandeered as a fire boat during WWll, then a career as a surf clammer, before being sunk in shallow water as was a common way to hang onto a vessel that you had no use for, but thought you might someday.  In 1988 she was sold for a dollar, hauled out and rebuilt back to near original and is now used for training and Bay awareness.

     Capt Jessie invited us to raft up for a while, so we did, then invited ourselves aboard the AJ for the Schooner Parade of Sail, the kickoff event in the weeklong Great Chesapeake Bay Schooner Race, that Jessie’s father Lane had started 27 years ago. We quick anchored the Willie Dawes off the marina then rowed to the marina to join the Meerwald. Up and back thru the inner harbor,  25 schooners, cannons blazing, generally milling about, all with a great sense of comraderie, Capt. Jessie handled the schooner like the pro he is.  Thanks Jessie!

     Once back at the Willie we had our supper and were just about to settle in for the night when I heard engines reversing close aboard.  Once on deck I was blinded by blue strobe lights flanking the Willie Dawes.  The nice Baltimore Police were here to inform us that we were in a no anchoring turning basin, and they showed us another place we could anchor.  Very nice, no problem, we thank them for not towing us while we were in the parade.  We upped anchor and quietly moved to the other side of the marina.  

Willie Dawes in the wrong anchorage.  Oops.

     Of note, Baltimore is an exception to the rule reserving and allowing visitors several places where it is OK to anchor, as opposed to many that allow none.  Thankyou Baltimore.

Oct 13: Through the C & D Canal and Beyond

     We knew the current in the canal wasn’t going to be favorable until after eleven am, so we spent a leisurely morning before setting off.  The Reedy Island anchorage might be handy to the canal entrance, but it had a strong current and was not all that protected from the big ships that went up the Bay to Wilmington and Philadelphia.  We felt every wake.  Dan set our flopper-stoppers, and that helped some.

Entrance to the C & D Canal

     The Chesapeake and Delaware Canal is fourteen miles long.  We entered just before eleven, with the current against us.  By the time we got through it, the current was giving a steady push, something that continued right into Chesapeake Bay.  

Schooner AJ Meerwald

     The schooner AJ Meerwald was right behind us much of the time, and Dan being Dan, picked up the radio and struck up a conversation with their captain, letting him know we’d sailed in company with the Meerwald back in 2000 when we’d taken the Lewis R French to the Boston Tall Ships Sail-In.  The captain responded “Oh, you sailed with Danny!”  To which Dan replied “As a matter of fact, I am Danny.”  It’s a small world amongst the schooners captains.  The AJ Meerwald is the New Jersey flagship, built in 1928 to harvest oysters.  Now she does PR tours to help raise awareness of the ecology of the Bay.  We sailed with them through through the canal and into the Chesapeake.  They were Baltimore-bound, getting ready to rendezvous with all the other schooners entered in the Great Chesapeake Bay Schooner Race.  

     We were also Baltimore-bound.  Well, heading for the mouth of the river that leads to Baltimore.  My brother Ralph, who lives in Georgia, just happened to be in the DC area attending meetings.  He contacted us, asked if we could meet for supper.  To make it an easier drive for him, we decided to push toward Baltimore instead of calling it a day someplace nearer to the end of the C & D Canal.

It was a pretty day, though the wind was was right in our teeth.  We had a fair tide  and it wasn’t too choppy with the wind against it.  We chased the storm clouds, and got caught in a couple showers, but they didn’t last long and were over and gone by the time we reached Bodkin Creek where we’d arranged to meet Ralph.  

    We took longer than we’d hoped, because the tide turned and slowed us down, but it turned out our travels were still faster than the greater Washington DC traffic.  We were half an hour late to the Cheshire Crab, Ralph got there about fifteen minutes after that. The food was good, and the time spent together was even better.  Thanks Ralph, for getting in touch. It made our Chesapeake visit even more special!

Sunset Bodkin Creek

Oct 10-11-12:  Outside New Jersey and on to Delaware Bay

     Quite a few snowbirds in Rum Point, and most stayed in on the Saturday the 10th, as the wind was quite strong, and being from the East, not a good time on the Jersey shore.  Many of the cruisers made dinghy trips to Atlantic City, but we had explored further up the cove and landed our dinghy,  Sybil Ludington on the beach/seawall right in town Brigantine.  Kathy checked out the Post Office for mailing and WIFI while I got a couple groceries.  We then met at St Georges Pub for a lite lunch and to make use of the WIFI.  

     At the beach while launching Sybil, I found an oyster on the shore, not sure the season, but what the heck. Back at the boat we made a list of all the cruisers in the harbor, just to keep track.

I knew that after a day at anchor all these Southbounders would be itching to get along, and sure enuf, 0700 the mass exodus began.  A steady stream out the narrow channel between the marshes and out Absecon Inlet to the gentle Easterly swell of the Atlantic.  

Atlantic City Light, tucked in amongst the casinos.

     A lite NW wind was just enuf to keep sails full and dampen the roll as we all motored to the South.  Soon enuf the boats spread out,  some offshore headed beyond Delaware Bay, but many heading for Cape May to follow the ICW up Delaware Bay to the C and D Canal, etc.  We made the turn at Cape May and while the 6 boats in line ahead of us turned for Cape May Harbor proper, we turned North up the ICW to a little anchorage called Sunset Lake in the town of Wildwood Crest where we had the anchorage all to ourselves. 

     Once at anchor, Kathy hoisted me up the mast to correct a chafing issue (on the masthead, not on me). Issue resolved and we were headed ashore to try and catch the Patriots’ football game at 1600.  We crashed the first bar we found, Mulligans.  Knowing that we were not home town crowd, we waited a while before asking the waitress if she might tune one of the 9 TV sets to the Pats game.  She finally got the game on the smallest set, hey, good enuf.  After appetizers we split a burger, then the TV said that the Pats game was blacked out in this area.  Oh well.  We got the check and were ready to head back to the Willie Dawes, when our the second half came up on the big screens.  Tom Brady had things well in hand, so just before dark we snuck out, and headed back to the harbor, just in time to catch a great pink sunset.  But not before catching the weather forecast on someone’s home big screen as we passed their picture window to the street. The forecast for Monday:  Near Perfect.  Good Enuf.

Sunset at Sunset Lake

     Monday morning the plan was to get underway at 0530 as we wanted to catch all of the flood tide up Delaware Bay. Well, rolling out of the Vee-Berth at 0630 will have to do.  Make the coffee and oatmeal and we are off, a couple miles to Cape May, thru Cape May Harbor then Thru the Cape May Canal to the bottom of Delaware Bay.  

Entrance to Cape May Canal

Sea fog on the Cape May Canal

     Nearly calm, “Near Perfect”, we made a line for Henesey Point, about 30 miles up on the Eastern Shore.  Some of our fellow cruisers were ahead of us, several back, once again spreading out as we went along.  Faster boats could reach the Chesapeake  and Delaware Canal by afternoon, the slower boats would be caught in the ebb current.  Guess which we are.  Going up the bay we were amongst crab pots, sort of like home, and many of the crab boats could pass for Maine Lobsterers.  Also saw a couple of 60 foot or so diesel powered oyster dredgers.

Crab pot buoys and one crab pot stake.

Ship John Shoal Light in Delaware Bay  

     Since the weather was so fine we decided to go a bit further up the bay than originally planned and changed course for the anchorage behind, or beside Reedy Island, just a couple miles shy of the Canal.  Of course just before the anchorage we must pass thru a turbulent opening between two stone jetties they called dikes.  My remark to Kathy was, “Sand everywhere, and we Mainers have to pass between these hard places”.

Entrance to the Reedy Island anchorage.

     The anchorage was not all that great, as the wind had come up 15 knots SSW and the 2 knot current was running downstream against the wind.  Never a comfortable combination, but the tide will soon turn and chances are the wind will go down with the sun.  Famous last words, Marnie and Al can tell you about that one.

Tomorrow, Chesapeake Bay!

Oct 7-8-9: New Jersey Intracoastal Waterway; Manasquan Inlet to Atlantic City

     Wednesday we were up and out into the open ocean for the first time since traveling along the coast of Nova Scotia.  Everyone traveling South must cruise at least partially outside the New Jersey coastline.  Those of us with shallower drafts and shorter masts can make use of the New Jersey Intracoastal Waterway at the entrance at Manasquan Inlet, 26 miles down the coast from the Verrazano Bridge.  The swells from Hurricane Joaquin were not as bad as we’d heard, but they still were breaking on the beach high enough to attract surfers, but they weren’t keeping the fishermen away.  There were several people casting lines all along the breakwater leading to the Manasquan River.

Entrance to Manasquan River - the breakwater is made up of interlocking manufactured stones that look like giant jacks.

     The waters here are shallow, and the channels and canals are narrow, and there are many bridges that need to be hailed to open for us, but it was great fun to slowly motor along and wave to the people sitting on their porches or fishing from their backyards.  We’re enjoying some warm and sunny weather - it’s been in the seventies and we’ve gone back to short-sleeve shirts, shorts, and lots of sunscreen.  This portion of the ICW is quiet; most boats traveling South do the entire New Jersey run from the outside, and the locals probably aren’t getting out on weekdays as much in the fall as they do in the summer.  We encountered only a couple of other sailboats drifting along, and mostly small-boat fisherman.  

Brielle RR Bridge, the first bridge before Pleasant Point Canal.

Rt 35 Bridge

     Wednesday night we anchored up the Metedeconk River, and Dan took the dinghy ashore to walk to West Marine for a couple of supplies while I stayed behind and did my own chores.  Like much of the NJ-ICW, our anchorage was bordered on one side by marsh and the other with wall to wall houses and condos. We watched a white heron and several ducks looking for their dinners in front of tall sedges, and then turned around and saw a densely built-up, brightly lit waterfront studded with private piers.  It’s quite the view, depending on which way you face.  

A great blue heron challenges a white heron with a fly-by.

Swans, marsh, and houses.  You can't see their docks, but they all have them.

Thursday we followed the meandering channel under more bridges and into Barnegat Bay.  We have a guidebook that reads like one of those old Disney travelogues, and it gives a great history of this area in particular, mentioning that the Dutch established colonies here before the Mayflower set people onto Plymouth rock, that rebels harassed the British here during the Revolutionary War, and that this area is the birth place of the coasting schooner.   

     We called it a day as we moved from Barnegat Bay into Little Egg Harbor, and dropped the hook off Mordecai Island in the Liberty Thorofare.  We were treated to a beautiful sunset, and Dan was amused to see a dredging barge getting ready for a night’s work.  (No, he doesn’t miss that.)

Sunset in Liberty Thorofare

Friday dawned overcast and very windy.  Our anemometer read 20 knots of wind, with gusts up to 25.  The water was a bit choppy as we followed the markers 20 miles to Atlantic City.  Everything we’ve read about the ICW cautions that we follow the buoys, and not adhere strictly to the magenta line on the charts.  We found this to be true today - following that magenta line would have put us aground for sure.  No doubt Joaquin shifted the sandy bottom around.  It was impressive that someone had already moved the buoys accordingly.  A strong front is moving through today, and we found a snug anchorage in a small basin across from the Absecon Inlet where we have a nice view of flocks of birds in the small marsh nearby and the brightly lit towers of the casinos in Atlantic City.