Monday June 27, 2016
I’d heard about Tangier Island all my life, the small Virginia Island in the southern Chesapeake Bay, where watermen speak in an old English dialect. We decided we would sail there next.
We left Portsmouth in the morning, maneuvering our way out of the Marina. On our way into the Marina on Saturday, I had made several wrong turns. On the radio with the dock hand who was trying to tell me where to go, I had to turns around 2 or three times in tight quarters. One man had yelled out then that “I handled the boat pretty well, for a girl!” He waved to us on our way out on Monday.
It was another gorgeous day as we sailed north up the Chesapeake.
By late afternoon, we were tied up at Parks Marina on Tangier Island. Mr. Parks likes to drive his scooter on the narrow wooden docks. It is how the old man gets around. He had very specific instructions for us as to where our boat should be and which lines should tie up where. He has lived on Tangier Island his whole life, and I really did not think his speech was that different.
We had arrived at the island too late for dinner at any of the restaurants. Everything closes early, as soon as the tourists leave on the ferry. I asked the dock hand if he could get us some fresh picked crab. We planned to spend two nights there. The cost would be $20, and the crab would be delivered the next day. Yeah!
We were sitting in the cockpit later that evening when a woman came along and started talking to us. Nicola had just come from the shower, and she combed her long hair while she talked. She and her husband had sold their home in Boulder, Colorado, and were living on their boat. They spend their winters sailing in the Caribbean and summers going up and down the East Coast. They met online. They have kids from previous marriages. We’d been talking to Nicola for at least 30 minutes when her husband Marc came along. We were having a great time talking with the couple. After another 30 minutes, Jim asked Marc how he got interested in sailing. Marc at that point did not know what our last name was, but he did know where we were from. He said, “I grew up sailing at Gibson Island with the Gambles!” Turns out his father and Jim’s father were fellow professors at Hopkins med school for 40 years, and they were friends! Jim is 9 years older than Marc, and Marc remembered Jim’s siblings. Small world!
In the morning, we walked to Hilda Crockett’s Cheasapeake House for breakfast with Marc and Nicola.
Tangier Island is not much bigger than Gibson Island. I was surprised to see grave stones in people’s front yards. Breakfast was served family style at a big table. We sat with two men who were there for a few days to work on the island’s generators. Big plates of bacon, scrambled eggs, fried bread, ham, potatoes, etc…., it was delicious.
On our walk back to the boat with Marc and Nicola, they said that they were leaving soon and sailing to Solomon’s Island. Mmmmmm. Nice day to sail, maybe we should go too!
Mr Parks had gone to the mainland, and the dock hand was out on the water somewhere. I left two envelopes in the Marina work shed, one with $35 for our night at the Marina, and one with $20 for the crab meat. I wrote on the envelope that if the boat Clarabelle showed up, to give them the crab meat. I had no idea if or when anyone would find the envelopes, but I didn’t want the dock hand to be out $20.
Night at Parks Marina on Tangier Island.