Goodbye Graham, hello America
A year afloat: to the Caribbean and back
Sam and Alex Fortescue
Wed 15 Jun 2011 01:39
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37:42.675N
75:45.433W
We're sad to have waved goodbye to Graham after two
weeks of his excellent company - most of it afloat. Alex and I have spent the
last four days hanging out with him and Irene at their big house among tall oaks
on the James River. Graham drove us to supermarkets (CostCo, where 16oz of prime
beef jerky cost just $7!), battlefields, early English colonies and Indian
villages; organised a barbecue in our honour and generally saw that we were
pampered exceedingly.
By way of example, I had a bath - the first since
leaving London (there have been plenty of showers, dear reader - fear not). We
spent the evenings listening to the marsh frogs croaking in the reeds and the
screech owls screeching. As we sat and ruminated, we found ourselves parrying
the efforts of a stray tomcat, who decided quite suddenly that he wanted to be
everybody's best friend - even if that meant sitting in their drinks and digging
claws into their legs.
At his Sunday night barbecue, we met an
American couple who also sail a Sadler 34, purchased from the fellow in
Dartmouth who sold us Summer Song. They had sailed as far as Australia, although
not in the Sadler. Also there was the founder of the world-famous Society for
the Promotion of Adolescent Behaviour (of which Graham is a member) as well as a
chap who had travelled to Italy with an old black and white photo of his
grandfather, and somehow managed to locate his relatives.
It was a charmed time of much needed relaxation
after the rigours of the crossing from Nassau. But this morning, it was a different Chesapeake that greeted us as we left
Urbanna. The bay had previously been calm and unruffled by any wind; the horizon
just two miles off in the haze and the air heavy and saturated. Now, it was
clear and sharp with a good northerly blowing and short, choppy seas. There was
a nip in the air that we hadn't tasted since Galicia. For much of the day, we
were on a reach, making a steady 6 knots and heeled over with the lee rail under
water.
After a 45 mile passage, we're now anchored up a
river on the east shore of the bay next to some local boats. The town, once
known unpromisingly as Port Scarborough, is now called Onancock and is rather
pretty. It lies at the end of a short, twisting river. Though perfectly groomed
and wilderness-free, it resembles Beaulieu River in Hampshire with trees
touching the water and magnificent houses set back from the shore. Instead of
brick and stone, though, everything here is made of clapboard and seems a little
too neat.
We have a fairly demanding series of hops to make
if we're to arrive in Annapolis, 100 miles north, by Friday. But it should be
doable.
Graham, you're welcome to join us if you get bored
of work. As Val Kilmer said to Tom Cruise in Top Gun, "You can be my wing
man any time."
Well, my sail trimmer and bacon frier, at any
rate...
Note: Photos will follow as soon as technical
difficulties revolving around the loss of a USB cable have been
overcome...
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