1800 Days – Seg. 17, Ch. 4, Pg. 10-14

    On Saturday, although we wanted to dinghy into Oxford again, it was still too breezy and choppy. We stayed onboard, read and rested, tended to small chores and checked over the boat. And we were disturbed by what we found. Once again, a voltage check showed that the batteries were not fully charged despite running the generator for 13 hours overnight. Worse yet, the foods and ice in the freezer compartment of our refrigerator showed signs that they were starting to thaw. Summer School was equipped with a typical marine refrigerator/freezer, a half size unit fitted into a compartment under the counter of the galley. This unit ran on 120 volt ac power if available from a dockside connection or our onboard generator. If these sources were not available, such as on Saturday morning after we shut down the generator, then the refrigerator automatically switched to 12 volt dc power from our house battery system. I reasoned that, if the battery voltage was low due to a lack of an adequate charge (for whatever reason), then the refrigerator may not be able to cool adequately, especially in the hot weather we were experiencing after the passage of Fran. We therefore decided to run the generator for an extended period and turned it on at 2 p.m., not to be turned off again until 8 a.m. Sunday morning. When we checked the refrigerator at that time our situation was much worse. All the foods in the freezer were thawed.

    It was imperative that we solve this problem if we were to continue our cruise, and our lives, as planned. Was our refrigerator simply failing, requiring us to replace it at substantial cost, perhaps several thousands? If this were the case we would have to spend significant time living in a marina somewhere while we got the unit replaced, which would completely disrupt our plans and our lives. This would be much worse than the problems we had with our air-conditioner.

    Once again I studied the manual for the refrigerator that came with the boat, looking for any hint or clue, and once again I read the specification that, if the refrigerator was mounted in an enclosed space, then that space should be vented with a minimum aperture of 35 square inches. I knew from looking at the vent cover on the outside of the cabin that the vent size was much smaller than this; the vent cover was only about two inches by four. In fact, for this reason I had long ago purchased a 5 by 9 louvered stainless steel vent cover with the intention of someday enlarging the vent to improve the performance of the refrigerator. But to this date our refrigerator had never failed us. On the other hand, we had not anchored for extended periods in weather as hot as what we experienced after Fran.

    There was one way to find out if the lack of adequate venting was the source of our difficulties, and that was to remove the refrigerator from its compartment and see if its performance improved. Although I hated to disrupt the interior of our cabin, I removed the mounting screws and was able to slide the refrigerator out of its compartment and onto the cabin sole without having to disconnect it. I was shocked by what I found. The compartment was not vented at all! The small vent that I could see on the outside of the cabin had been misplaced. That vent hole, which assuredly was meant for the refrigerator, opened underneath the galley sink instead! The wonder was that the refrigerator had been able to operate at all.

    Looking back on our actions on that Sunday morning I wonder at our boldness, but there seemed very little choice at the time. We had to get this problem resolved, and do it ourselves if at all possible. So I restarted the generator at 9 a.m. to provide power for my drill and saw, ran an extension cord onto the outside deck, and, after measuring very carefully, cut a large rectangular hole in the side of the boat. By noon the 5 by 9 vent cover had been mounted and sealed, and the refrigerator replaced in its compartment.

    We turned off the generator and waited. This would be a difficult test since the refrigerator was now running off the batteries and the outside temperature was again in excess of 90 degrees. We were encouraged by the fact that by evening the ice cube trays had started to freeze again though the meats in the freezer compartment were still soft.

    The NOAA weather forecast that night was the best we had heard for almost a week, with predicted hot temperatures but light winds and calm sees on the Chesapeake. If we were going to proceed with our plans to ascend the Potomac and visit Washington this might be the best time to cross the bay. We decided to leave the next morning if the forecast held, cross the bay and anchor somewhere in the Solomons area near the mouth of the Patuxent River.

    We were awake early on Monday morning. The NOAA weather broadcast was still the same, calm waters and light winds, so we got underway as quickly as possible. We left the protected anchorage at Trippe Creek by 8 a.m. to cruise the 45 miles across the bay and southward to the mouth of the Patuxent River. We reasoned that we would anchor overnight there and, if the refrigerator was working well and the boat was otherwise functioning properly, we would leave the next day to head south to the mouth of the Potomac and thence upriver toward Washington. On the other had if the refrigerator was still malfunctioning, or if there were any other significant problems, we would be close to Solomons, which had many marinas and repair facilities.

    On that Monday we were treated to an unusual experience on the Chesapeake. During the entire day the water, even out in the main shipping channel in the middle of the bay, was perfectly calm and flat. It was truly like glass with perfect reflections of the sky. Any disturbance, such as a ripple or a boat wake, could be seen from far away. We saw a number of areas where there were what we call fish boils - areas in the water where the surface was roiled by numerous fish feeding and trying to escape predators. We stopped briefly to fish one of these and easily caught five striped bass and a nice sized blue fish. By 3 p.m. we had entered the mouth of the Patuxent, continued past Sandy Point and the entrance to Solomons harbor, and rounded Point Patience off which the water was, incredibly, more than a hundred feet deep in the middle of the river. We tucked into Mill Creek on the western side of the river (not to be confused with the Mill Creek that flows into the harbor at Solomons) and dropped our anchor in a protected cove under the supervision of two beautiful swans. We were home for another night.

    After settling into our anchorage a check of the refrigerator showed that everything in the freezer was hard frozen; the cutting of the vent hole in the side of the cabin had worked and the refrigerator was probably working better than it ever had.

    Although we still had the problem of the batteries not charging fully when the charger was running off the generator, we thought we could live with this for awhile, at least until we got to a marina in Washington. So we settled in to a hot night on Mill Creek and made our plans to start for Washington and the Potomac early the next morning. Once again, however, Hurricane Fran forced us to change our plans. We learned, when we watched late night news from a Washington channel, that the Potomac was experiencing its worst flood in a hundred years due to all the rain dropped by Fran in the Potomac watershed. Whole trees and parts of buildings were being carried down the river by a current that was described as savage. There was no way we could fight against that current for a hundred miles and cope with all the debris in the water. A cruise up the Potomac and a visit to Washington would have to wait for another time. Of course we had no way of knowing that this anticipated cruise up the Potomac, when it came, would be part of the last cruise we would ever make in Summer School.

1800 Days – Seg. 16, Ch. 4, Pg. 5-10

    By Monday afternoon most of the boats that had been visiting Chestertown had left. The holiday weekend was over. We departed as well, hauling our anchor at about 3 p.m. We only went about nine miles downriver to anchor one more time in Comegys Bight, the only boat in this pretty little bay that we liked so well.
    Our strategy in making such a short cruise was to position ourselves close enough to Kent Narrows to be there at high tide, about 10 a.m. on Tuesday morning. This, we felt, was crucial. The approach to Kent Narrows from the Chester was notorious for shallow water and shoaling with a high probability for first-time users such as ourselves to run aground. We would need every inch of depth we could get. Additionally, when the tide was running strongly the current through the Narrows was supposed to be fierce. If we could get there at high tide the current through the narrow bridge opening probably would be more manageable though our charts showed that it would not by any means be slack. This no longer surprised us. From our previous boating experience we knew that there was often a significant offset between the times of slack current and the times of high or low tide.
    On Tuesday morning we were up before seven and underway by 8 a.m. Two hours later, despite having considerable difficulty in finding the channel leading from the Chester to Kent Narrows (it was not as shown on the chart and had apparently been recently moved), we were in front of the Kent Narrows bridge waiting for it to open. As near as we could tell it was exactly high tide, though the current was still running strongly from the Chester toward Eastern Bay, pushing us toward the bridge and making it difficult to hold our position. To our relief the bridge tender seemed very knowledgeable about the problems of handling boats in strong currents (this was sometimes not the case we had found), and when he opened the bridge he used a loud PA system to instruct boats waiting on the other side of the bridge to stand back while we rode the swift current through the narrow opening.
    As soon as we entered Eastern Bay we knew that we were in different waters than in the Chester River drainage basin. We saw swimming crabs and stinging jelly fish, called nettles by the locals, everywhere.
    We followed our plotted course south about ten miles, past the wide opening to the main part of the Chesapeake, until we came to the mouth of the Wye River off Bennett Point at the end of a thin strip of land called Piney Neck. There we proceeded carefully across the shoals off the point (there were two marker buoys to help us) and turned north up the Wye River toward Wye Island. The charts showed the main channel of this river to be very deep with usual depths of 30 to 40 feet and sometimes as much as 50 to 60 feet deep. After the shallow water we had been through it was a pleasure to cruise through such depths, though we had to be attentive not to stray too far from the main channel, as we soon discovered, because the water shoaled quickly on either side. We planned to continue to follow the main Wye River north, past the mouth of the Wye East River that marked the tip of Wye Island. There were several places that promised good anchorages north of the island. We intended to take two or three days to explore ashore by dinghy and, finally, to circumnavigate the island before coming back out on the Wye East River on our way to Oxford and the Choptank River area.
    As we cruised slowly up the river we came fairly close to the shore of Piney Neck on our west. After about two miles we came abreast of a large stately house with extensive grounds, and all over the lawn and in the waters near the shoreline was a large flock of Canada geese. In addition we saw a flock of brilliant white swans. They were stunning in their grace and beauty. And then Nancy yelled at me to watch the depth gage, we were in the shallows. In my excitement over the geese and swans I had allowed the boat to drift too close to shore. But, thanks to Nancy's attentiveness, no harm was done and I turned back into the main channel, thrilled by the sight of these magnificent birds and eagerly anticipating the prospect of exploring this area over the next several days. Less than a mile beyond the house we rounded a large point of land, Drum Point according to the charts, extending from Wye Island on our right. On the other side of the point we entered a sheltered bay and there we decided to stay. We had this seemingly secluded anchorage all to ourselves throughout the night.
    Wednesday morning arrived early and abruptly in the form of wakes that threatened to rock us out of bed. These, we found, were due to work boats traveling up and down the main river channel as well as two boats that were tending crab traps in our little bay. But there was nowhere we had to go on this day. Maybe we would just travel a little around the shore of Wye Island. We could take it easy, get naps and have a restful time. So we eased into the morning, lingering over coffee, juice and toast, talking about how we would explore the area.
    Finally, at 10 a.m. we turned on the VHF radio and listened to the NOAA weather broadcast, and that changed everything. We were shocked to learn that there was yet another hurricane coming, Hurricane Fran, and it was forecast to come ashore in North Carolina and move up the Chesapeake. It was stated that the weather on the Chesapeake was expected to deteriorate as early as the next day, Thursday. It was evident that, if we were going to get to Oxford and the Choptank, we had better leave immediately or we would risk being windbound on the Wye River where there was no nearby town where we could resupply if that became necessary. We scurried about getting everything ready, finally hauling our anchor and getting underway by 11:15. How quickly our plans had changed!
    It was about a 45 mile cruise to Oxford and there was no short cut this time to keep us in sheltered waters. We had to proceed out the mouth of Eastern Bay south of Kent Island, all the way to the main shipping channel of the Chesapeake to skirt the shoals off Poplar, Jefferson and Coaches Islands. As we approached the main body of the Chesapeake we encountered southerly winds to 20 knots that resulted in head seas of about four feet. We left the bridge and went below in the cabin to use the lower helm station where it was less bouncy and out of the wind. This was the roughest water we had encountered since our tour of the Bahamas. Every wave produced a shower of spray over the bow that crashed onto the front window. We had to round Tilghman Island to enter the broad mouth of the Choptank and there is extensive shoaling that extends for more than six miles off the southern tip of the island. Fortunately we were able to carefully cross these shoals using a path that had adequate depths for our boat. Once we were into the Choptank the water calmed appreciably. We headed upriver toward Oxford, which is situated on the neck of land where the Tred Avon River enters the Choptank. Up the Tred Avon, about two miles past the Oxford waterfront, we turned into Trippe Creek, which made off to our right. A mile up the creek we rounded a sharp point of land at a narrows and carefully favored the south shore. We were in what was really like a little bay about a half mile wide but very well protected. Charted depths were 7 to 10 feet. Perfect, we thought, not too deep yet with adequate swinging room. We could safely let out a lot of anchor line to give us the large scope necessary to withstand high winds. It was late, almost 6 p.m., when we dropped our anchor. It had been a boisterous ride but we were now in a spot that we thought would be a good hurricane hole and it was only three miles from Oxford where there were restaurants, marinas and stores for reprovisioning.

A Marina in Oxford: Swans Are Common

    The Trippe Creek anchorage was our home for the next five days and I have nothing but good memories of this time despite Hurricane Fran. On Thursday, the day after we arrived, we took Recess into town where we found a convenient dinghy dock at a restaurant. We had an excellent lunch, disposed of our accumulated trash from the boat, and got a cooler full of ice for our drinks. On our return trip to Summer School in the early afternoon the winds increased and the water became sufficiently choppy that we were taking in spray over the bow of our little inflatable dinghy. Back onboard, NOAA weather radio confirmed that Fran had come ashore in North Carolina and was expected to churn up the Chesapeake still at hurricane strength. We set out a second anchor and adjusted our lines to give us plenty of scope. We were about as well protected as we could hope to be.
    I slept little on Thursday night as the winds increased, preferring to stay awake to watch the radar, GPS receiver and depth gage so that I could detect any appreciable movement of the boat caused by anchor dragging. I dozed fitfully through the early morning hours as the winds seemed to be holding steady at around 30 mph. I was glad when dawn finally came and revealed our bay to be covered in whitecaps. The early morning weather report brought good news, at least for us. Fran was tracking west of the Chesapeake and we would miss the worst of the storm. As the day wore on the winds increased somewhat to 35 mph but we were secure and unworried in our anchorage. In the afternoon Nancy and I sat in our small cockpit at the back of the boat, warmly comfortable and shielded from the wind. We still had a few chicken necks in the freezer compartment left over from Rolph's, and we used these to crab from the back of the boat. By dinner time we had caught eight beautiful large blue crabs and these became the main course of our dinner. Altogether it was an enjoyable and memorable afternoon. I was aware that there must have been some storm surge due to Fran because there was a house on the shore about a half mile away that had a boat dock, and the dock, as best as I could see, had disappeared under the water. However, since we were at anchor we merely rose with the water level, which had essentially no effect on us. By nightfall the winds had started to diminish and the temperature had increased substantially due to the tropical air brought into the region by the hurricane. The low temperature never got less than 75 overnight but we had our generator and air-conditioner. We were comfortable.

House on the Shore at Trippe Creek Anchorage

Dock Submerged by Rising Waters from Hurricane Fran

Restaurant on the Shore in Oxford

Flooded at High Tide During Hurricane Fran