Well, on to the second of our three recent challenges. Lessons, I mean.

Reedy Island, Delaware to Sassafras River, Maryland (21-Sep-2012)

Despite just getting a lesson in proper and thorough route-planning, we were too laissez-faire about the C & D Canal. We looked at the tide tables for Reedy Point (where we’d be starting our day), and it said that low tide was at 10:19 am. Our conversation about the matter went something like this:

“So if it’s low-tide at 10:19 here, and we’re going upstream, we should leave around 10:30 so that the current will be with us as the tide comes back in. Does that sound right?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Yeah, me too.”

So we left shortly after 10 (we even messed around with boat chores for a while to kill time). We should have researched the specifics of transiting the C&D Canal more thoroughly, because our logic was definitely faulty. We were fighting a 1.5 – 2 knot current, practically the whole way to Chesapeake City. We felt stupid as the guys going in the opposite direction just flew by, aided by the current that hindered us.

That was lesson #2. If you don’t pay the C & D Canal much mind, you could end up paying it much diesel. But enough about that – here’s a bit of what we saw along the way.

We stopped in Chesapeake City, Maryland, because we knew we’d be anchoring out, and were a little low on drinking water; not desperate, but low. A couple of gallons would do.

So we go ashore, and walk to the Chesapeake General Store, and take in a bit of the town.

The Chesapeake General Store is not like a general store of yesteryear. At this general store, you could buy trendy purses and laptop cases, fashion reading glasses, paisley patterned pens for ladies and greeting cards. That’s about it. It was a pretty cool place though. The original counter from the late 1800’s was intact, and the working cash register was made in 1904. The proprietress said there was a gas station that would have jugs of water ’bout a mile up the road. We’ve been doing some serious walking lately, so a mile doesn’t scare us. Off we went in search of water.

We start walking, and wave a man in a truck down and ask him about the gas station. He said “Sure, it’s ’bout a mile up the 213”. We’d been walking a while by the time we met this guy, and it’s still a mile up the road? We keep walking. And walking. We stop at a liquor barn, thinking they might have water, but they were closed. It was Friday afternoon, but they were closed. Anyhow, we keep walking and finally get to the gas station, get our water and start walking back to the boat.

In Chesapeake City, Maryland, “’bout a mile” means FAR.

On the return trip of our quest for water, we pass a pawn shop and we stop in to see if they have a travel-size banjo (a fun side-quest that brings us to all sorts of interesting consignment & pawn shops). No banjo, but Phill tries out this tricycle contraption (we still have only one bike, so we’re in the market for portable transportation). We didn’t buy this thing…not very practical.

Back to the boat, over-heated and little grumpy, we press on into the Chesapeake Bay, which is very beautiful, so our moods lifted pretty quickly.

I’ve been debating whether I should talk about my new friend. Until now, I’ve decided against it because I’ve pictured, dear reader, your eye brows slowly lift as you justifiably wonder if I’ve taken all my marbles sailing with me.

To err on the side of telling it like it is, here goes.

Since we left Kingston on September 1st, we have had almost daily visits from what resembles a Monarch butterfly. The orange is a bit darker, but very Monarch-like. I don’t know anything about butterflies. Anyways, it’s always a single butterfly, looks the same, each visit. No passing horde of them – always just one. I know that the likelihood of it being the same butterfly each day is about zero, and that this is probably a bumper year for solo-butterfly migration or something, but I like to think of the butterfly as My Butterfly. It makes me happy.

As usual, My Butterfly fluttered by, and I had my camera ready this time. It was about a half hour after we’d entered the Chesapeake Bay. This is the best shot I managed to get.

There. It’s out. I won’t feel sheepish about talking about My Butterfly anymore. It’s a “he” by the way.

A couple of hours later, we’re anchored and enjoying a sunset swim in the beautiful Sassafras River.

The day started with a lesson, but ended perfectly.