I was recently asked by a fan to share my feelings about our new home. 

I better stop myself right there and explain that sentence. First off, I bet you didn’t realize I had fans, did you. #humblebrag 

Well, I have many. Dozens? Hundreds? I can’t really count more than more-than-one. But I know more than one thing for certain: when I walk into West Marine I am greeted with a picture of myself, looking stunning in tan. The Long Haired One is present in the photo also, but fuzzy and in the background. The other thing I know is that fans approach me often. “Oh, is that a cocker spaniel?” they all said in the Carolinas. “Look at that cocker spaniel!” they all exclaim in Virginia. Life is good here, for I have found my people. 

Did you say you got a new home, Hastings? Yes, we moved aboard a new boat in January. We lived on it in the boatyard, and now at a marina. We’ve done a few weeks of sailing and living at anchor too. It’s fine, though it does not have as much space as the old boat. That works better for me in the end. I prefer to be directly beneath the One True Daddy at all times anyway, so that I may help him up should he trip (he often does-I don’t know why) and so that I may look cute and calm him should he curse about not having a place to put his feet (he often does that too-I’m not sure why).

The best thing about this new boat is that it took me to meet new fans. These fans are in Maryland, and with any luck, they’ll be teaching those Carolina and Virginia stiffs a thing or two. In Solomons, we went out to dinner. This is definitely the best thing about traveling. During the summer, when the boat is hot, my people don’t often leave me alone aboard. So I go everywhere; I even get to go to restaurants. Traditionally, this has always been a bit disappointing. Yes, they often snuck me bites when no one was looking. Burgers, fries, etc. Always a tiny offering. But in Solomons, the server was the most caring and thoughtful fan I had ever met. She produced a plate of french fries. She said, “I’m not sure if dogs are allowed to have fries…” I got worried, but I rolled out my “I Can Have Anything” face and they were given. Delicious.

We left Solomons the next morning and cruised to a place called St. Michaels. 

Now I must lodge one complaint about the new boat: the dinghy is ridiculous. It’s loud and stinky and slow. It takes forever to get to shore. Get on that crew!

The dock at St Michaels had some of the nicest bathroom facilities we’ve come across. A city park with a well manicured and well-fertilized lawn. Just lovely. And I needed it after that dinghy ride.

We walked into a busy little town. Lots of fans, potential fans, and fans who weren’t fans yet. We went to another restaurant. I was braced for disappointment as the waiter brought baskets of food over to the table. He took one off the tray, and it went down past the table. It was placed in front of me. It contained an entire chopped hamburger patty, cooked and cooled just enough to eat without slowing down. So I didn’t slow down. "What sort of residency requirements does Maryland have?" I ask as I lick my chops.

The next morning we go for breakfast. I was given a slice of bacon while the crew enjoyed crepes. We walked the town and stopped by the brewery. They didn’t have food, but I was allowed to sit inside, in the AC at the bar with them. What a day! The next day we went to the pizzeria. My Darling Mom, who is now giving me choices from the menu, offers the “Lady and the Tramp pasta and meatballs” or the “Sammy’s Beef Stew”. The Lady and the Tramp was amazing. 

The only bummer about this situation is that apparently going to restaurants and receiving food is not free. I was informed that my Cocker Spaniel Appreciation Enterprises venture was not yet in the black and that unless revenues improved dining out would be curtailed. Regardless, every walk into town I encouraged them to try something. Ice cream, bars, pubs, brunch, dinner, lupper, elevensies, etc. And I did get to go back and try Sammy’s Stew, which was delicious but contained stupid vegetables that you had to eat around and spit out.

Our time in St Michaels came too soon to a close and we set sail back to Virginia. I still like Virginia, but now when I snooze I’m thinking about Maryland and all that it has to offer! 

Rather foolishly, we left the perfectly wonderful embrace of Onancock and arrived in Crisfield, MD. The anchorage felt too small. A survey of the area revealed a fence around the marina. The marina office was closed. The waterfront restaurants were closed. We didn't launch the dinghy. We began to miss Onancock.

We sailed to Solomon's, Maryland, back on the western shore. Thankfully, we had our enclosure up and were protected from the wind, noise, and water onslaught.  Hastings started to deteriorate. He's been seasick twice in his life - both times in Chesapeake Bay. You'd think the Bay would be fine, fine, fine, but it's really like the ocean out there. Passing the Potomac, we had steady 25 knot winds and a steep chop.

As we neared Solomon's, we were developing quite a list of needs. Laundry. Showers. Dinghy dock. Dinner cooked by someone else. The marina clerk seemed quite nervous telling me that a mooring now costs $40. She didn't realize how little money matters to people that have dog vomit on them. 

I picked up the mooring line, which was blanketed in patent pending Chesapeake Bay mud. More laundry to do! 

5 loud honks. The international signal of imminent danger. We'd anchored in Onancock, VA on the DelMaVa peninsular. It seemed like we were well out of the channel 5 minutes ago, but now the barge is approaching us on a dead on collision course. The anchorage is thrown into disarray as the alcohol soaked 5 powerboat raft up behind us frantically disassembles with equal amounts of giggles and swearing. 

We're totally safe out of the channel (right?) but decide to fire up the motor just in case. First crank. Nothing. Old engines, they're the best! Second crank. Nothing. Third times the charm? Nothing. Sad faces. Fourth crank. It's not funny anymore. "You know, I turned off the engine last". Ah! Lucy's engine off procedure involves turning off the fuel and leaving it off. Matt likes to turn off the fuel and then turn it back on. Problem solved. Engine starts.

By this time, the raftees are driving around us (now just giggling), assuring us we don't need to move. But the fire drill has started, so we're in it to win it and pull one more boat length forward. Now it's time for the anchor down / survival beer. (Haha-the pretty bar on the water with outside seating? refuses our adorable 14 yr old dog. We didn't want their overpriced beer anyway). 

Barge Crisis Aftermath.

Chesapeake Bay Shake Down Cruise Day 1:

What worked: 

• the stack pack! all zipped up in just a moment. 
• the original sails! We sustained 7 knots of speed with a reefed main in 12 knots of wind on a beam reach.
• the autopilot! We thought it was broken, but just had to be reconnected.
• the toilet! Some Negative Nancy told us we couldn't use a composting toilet when heeled? Weirdos! 
• actually stowing belongings before heeling over!
• the dinghy: it took us about 8 minutes to inflate and launch the dinghy. It's fine.
• Dulcinea, overall: fantastic sail boat. We love her. 

    

What we learned: 

• Docking at a fuel dock can cause sudden windiness to appear from nowhere.
• Fuel comes out of the overflow vent before the tank appears to be full.
• Don't let the dog stand under the fuel overflow vent while fueling.
• Undocking a full keel boat with full power forces boat to cooperate but terrifies the crew. 
• Always reef early when a small craft advisory is called. This will ensure the wind speed drops to 8 knots and will give you a lovely day on the water.
• Sunblock is good.
• Seriously, stay out of the channel in Onancock.   

Finally, masts and thumbs were fixed with duct tape and we were ready to leave. We leapt up at 5AM, dinghyed the dog to shore at 530AM, and then had an argument about the weather.

Fishing Bay Anchorage, Deltaville, VA

Finally, finally, we left Deltaville, VA. Chesapeake Bay was perfectly calm. Don't worry, instead of enjoying it, we had another argument about the weather. It was so nice Reckless Ruth wanted to go offshore and round Cape Hatteras, but guess who appeared? Negative Nancy, telling tales of the "Graveyard of the Atantic", producing spreadsheets and graphs showing certain doom. Such a Debbie Downer. 

Chesapeake Bay (just FYI, this boat was in the yard with us....)

We pulled into Norfolk, the official start of the Intracoastal Waterway and celebrated by going ashore, lifting the dog up a steep dodgy ladder, marching to the Irish pub, and demanding sausage rolls. Hastings was happier than he had been for weeks, collecting compliments and walking on pavement and wagging his little stump tail. It's very, very different in Norfolk. Just 40 miles north is complete silence, the Milky Way at night, and here, it's hustle and bustle, helicopters overhead, street lights and sirens.

Busy Hampton Roads area

Steering through the melee

Hastings loves a good pub!

Norfolk at Dusk

Norfolk at 3AM