Delaware: third state of our US tour

A year afloat: to the Caribbean and back
Sam and Alex Fortescue
Thu 23 Jun 2011 13:08
39:33.07N
075:33.83W
 
Shortly after leaving Annapolis yesterday, Summer Song completed her 10,000th mile in our ownership. There was some tension in the cockpit when the log read 9,999.9 Nm. You see, we weren't sure whether the instruments would carry on working when 10,000 ticked over, or whether some sort of Millenium-style bug would wreak havoc. In fact, we've covered about 9,000 miles this year alone, but many of them went unrecorded due to barnacles clogging up the log wheel.
 
Luckily the milestone passed without calamity. Instead, we had a tremendous spinnaker run 40 miles up to the head of the Chesapeake Bay, where the banks narrow and become greener, dotted wth rustic looking villages and magnificent waterfront real estate. The spinnakoo - covered with undignified streaks of mud where it had brushed against the anchor during the day - kept us ploughing north east past other boats until about 7pm. We only furled the beast to enter the Chesapeake and Delaware canal - a broad manmade waterway linking the two bays that saved us from retracing 200 miles of watery footsteps to the sea.
 
As the day went on, the water became smoother and smoother, ironing out what few waves there had been at the start. We pushed on through the mirror-flat canal in the dark to reach the Delaware side. There are plenty of lights to guide boats at night, but the main route markers seemed to be the many bridges spanning the canal, their arches and cables floodlit in spectacular geometric patterns. Despite warnings of gigantic freighters and tankers, we saw little more than a 14-ft Boston whaler.
 
Relying wholly on our electronic GPS in the dark, We gingerly manoeuvred in behind a breakwater at the exit of the canal, tight between two mudbanks, for a calm anchorage. Placid conditions didn't stop the Skipper from jumping up several times during the night and charging on deck muttering half-dreamed nonsense about our floating loose or being aground. In truth, the spot felt quite exposed - imagine anchoring at the side of Thames estuary. The scene was lit by a vigorously flashing light on the cooling tower of a nuclear power station on the opposite bank, and by the great forms of ships sliding by in the night.
 
It was also a shock to be back onboard after three nights of landlubbing luxury at Anna and Barrett's house near DC. It still seems unbelievable that we made it out to see them after so many years of vague promises - more than ten years since Anna first moved to the States. She's nearing the end of a PhD in Canadian, feminist writing on science fiction with an environmental theme and I have put in a bid to be the first to read her thesis. Though it looks specific enough to apply to a single author, Anna says it is a wide genre.
 
Either way, thank you Anna and Barrett for a wicked stay!