Final day on the bay

We are under way southbound in the Chesapeake Bay, on our final open water leg before we reach the start of the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway. I'm using the opportunity to catch up here before the chaos of the port of Norfolk.

A bundled-up bosun rinses the anchor chain in the morning chill on the Elk River, as the sun just peeks above the Delmarva Peninsula.

Monday morning we awoke to winds higher than forecast, the same direction and nearly the same intensity as those which had stopped us in our tracks Sunday morning. We briefly considered staying until things abated, but we took a chance that winds would steadily decrease and we got under way for Annapolis, with a bailout option of the Middle River if things did not improve.

As we were weighing anchor, the Justine McAllister steamed past, towing a spud barge carrying the aft section of a submarine.

After passing Elk Point we angled over to the west and ran right outside the security zone for the Aberdeen Proving Ground (Bigger Bombs for a Better Tomorrow ™). We passed no fewer than four patrol boats, lazily tied off to the marker buoys. For all we know, some were empty, like those police cars they sometimes randomly park in speed zones. We noticed the depths were a full two feet shallower than charted, and I had to lower the alarm setting, a circumstance we attributed to two days of heavy wind pushing all the water out of the bay.

A bit of a different angle. Not something one sees every day.

By the time we reached the Middle River things had laid down some, and we pressed on. As we reached the Patapsco the worst was over and we decided to continue to Annapolis. We came within 90 minutes of Canton and the Fells Point neighborhoods of Baltimore, and briefly contemplated stopping, but we did not want to miss any of this four-day weather window to get down the bay.

We had been hearing Coast Guard announcements of a naval protection zone off Annapolis all morning, signifying that a warship was in the anchorage. As we approached we could see it was actually a submarine. One of the local tour boats was tied alongside, presumably running liberty trips or maybe taking midshipmen out for show and tell. The closest we came was just under two miles, so not a great view, but it's definitely unusual in this part of the bay. I learned later they were here for the Navy - Air Force game.

A distant shot of a US Navy submarine in the anchorage, with a passenger boat alongside.

We had the hook down in our customary spot in the South Anchorage (map) before 2pm. On a relatively pleasant afternoon, that gave me plenty of time to work on the davit crane, which had been acting up on our last couple of lifts, stopping mid-lift until I jiggled the wires. Upon taking it apart I found paint overspray on one of the lugs. It took quite a bit of fiddling with files and sandpaper to get it cleaned up, but all seems well now.

Paint overspray on a high-current lug. That's the actuator solenoid in the background.

At dinner time we splashed the tender and headed ashore to meet up with social-media acquaintances Tate and Ashley, who live in the area. We normally tender to downtown, but they suggested a dinner venue in Eastport, across Spa Creek, called The Boatyard, and so we instead landed at the Third Street bulkhead, enjoying a short walk around the neighborhood before dinner. It was great meeting them in person and we had a very enjoyable evening together over dinner and drinks. The restaurant was a great suggestion and we've added it to our list.

Every street that ends on the waterfront in Annapolis is a legal dinghy landing.

With warmer weather settling in, and October really being a great month to be here, the gravitational pull of Annapolis beckoned us to spend another night. But we again followed our gut to use this window of incredibly calm bay conditions to make tracks, and so we loaded the tender at first light and made a pre-sunrise departure from the harbor, bound for Solomons. The sub was still at anchor, with a tug and barge alongside, presumably doing provisioning.

Sunrise departing Annapolis harbor.

On the long open water run to Solomons I took the opportunity to update the blog header photo, which has been a long time coming, The one that was there heretofore was fully ten years old, with the boat in her original all-white livery and gear on deck we have not owned in a decade. I was able to snap an acceptable shot from the dink in Annapolis for the update.

Vector in the South Anchorage, Annapolis. I used a different shot for the header.

We had the hook down in a familiar spot off Molly's Leg (map) shortly after 2pm. That gave me plenty of time to walk the mile or so down to West Marine to pick up a new Drip Guard for our sump discharge. Sadly, they did not carry a new burgee staff, which we suddenly need to replace the one that leapt to a watery grave as Louise removed our anchor day shape departing Annapolis. At dinner time we returned ashore and walked to The Pier, which was a nice change of scenery from the harbor side, but not worth a return visit. We had a pleasant postprandial walk around the end of the island and through the University of Maryland campus before returning to Vector.

Vector at Solomons Island.

In keeping with the theme of moving while the moving is good, we again weighed anchor before the sunrise yesterday, with our sights set on Reedville, off Ingram Bay. I had foolishly thought we could get ashore for dinner there, with some four restaurants on the map. But here in the Virginia necks, nothing is open at this time of year except on the weekends. So when the plotter showed an early-afternoon arrival, we instead pressed on to the Piankatank River near Deltaville.

Sunrise over Pax River Naval Air Station as we steam out the Patuxent.

Long-time readers may know that we spent many months in Deltaville during our very first yard period ten years ago. We jokingly call the Piankatank the Plankatank, because the Garmin automotive GPS we had in our bus spelled it that way, and we brought the bus to the yard to live in it while work proceeded. The lone decent restaurant in Deltaville has since moved to the very same boatyard, and we would have made our way into the adjacent anchorage had it, too, not been closed until the weekend.

Instead we proceeded to the west side of Gwynn Island and dropped the hook in the river (map). In the fullness of time, no fewer than a dozen boats ended up anchored within two miles of us, and I know there must have been another dozen sequestered in the marinas in town. Deltaville is a canonical stop for cruisers on this stretch of bay, which has a dearth of convenient anchorages. And so it is we find ourselves this morning in a cluster of some 20-odd boats, all making the same snowbird journey south.

Sunrise over Gwynn Island as we departed this morning. I look forward to an even more relaxed pace, where sunrise photos are no longer the norm.

I posted about this on social media this morning, and a number of nearby boats have chimed in to say hello. I can see perhaps 18 southbound cruisers on the AIS alone, and many boats lack transponders. We're planning to tie up at the free High Street Landing in Portsmouth tonight, but with so many boats just ahead of us, we may find it full. We have some tricks up our sleeve, though, and a nearby anchorage at Hospital Point is our backup option.