Whoops. In yesterday's blog I said that we were anchored in Annapolis. I beg your pardon. We are anchored in The Maritime Repulic of Eastport, and I would be keel hauled if they found out that I called it Annapolis.
Yet, learning about my mistake brought back a very pleasant memory. In December 2004, Libby and I travelled to Eastport for our first ever look at a real live Westsail 32. It was our first overt act toward adopting our new life style. We had never been here before so we knew nothing. Following directions we came to downtown Annapolis, crossed the bridge into Eastport, and took the first left turn, and followed it to the end. That took us to First Street.
As we got out of the car, the scene was wonderful. The street was lined with historically charming brick houses, and overhanging trees. It looked like the Stockade area in Schenectady. However, as I looked down the street I was stunned to see a sailboat sailing across First Street (see the picture, and study it closely). We walked to the end and found that the street terminated directly on the water.
In the creek at the end of the street there was an enormous sailboat race going on in a brisk 20 knot wind. Wow. We certainly didn't have sailboat races in upstate New York in December. Apparently it was an informal race because there were no buoys. Also apparently, the object was to sail your boat up the creek to the bridge, then back out. However, the end of the creek was very narrow allowing very little room for sailing. Nevertheless, there were hundreds (actually countless) sailboats darting and maneuvering in impossible tight spaces to complete their course without collisions. There were small boats, big ones, sail boats, motor boats, anchored boats. It was chaos. Standing back to look at it reminded me of a swarm of bees at the entrance of the beehive. It was impossible to focus on any one boat for more than a second. The fleet resembled a squirming writhing swarm more than a collection of boats under command. Yet, despite the seeming inevitability of disaster, we never saw any boat collide with any other.
On that same day, we saw our first three Westsails -- Sibiland, Amanda Jane, and Morning Mist. We fell in love with Morning Mist and she was our favorite until 10 Westails and three months later when we first saw Tarwathie.
This morning, we ventured in to Annapolis early in the morning to have breakfast at Chick & Ruth's Delly. It is a delightful bit of Americana. Maryland Governors go to Chick and Ruth's on Flag day to pledge allegiance to the flag. They serve chipped beef on toast for dinner. You can buy a Golda Mier sandwich or a Dick Cheny salad. What a cool place.
Pardon my butt but: Yesterday I tried to fix the radar. Talking with the Furuno technician I learned that the fault was almost certainly that the rubber belt that connects the motor to the antenna had jumped off, causing the antenna to cease to rotate. I though it would be a great thing to fix by myself, despite the fact that it is still under warranty. I got in to our boatswain's chair, and with Libby and our friend June working the winch and tailing the line, up I went. I took off the dome to look inside. Surprise! The belt was in place. I went back down the mast and turned on the radar to see if the antenna turned. It did, and the radar works perfectly. Grrrrr - mechanic's syndrome. I went back up the mast and put the dome in place. The radar still works. No doubt it will continue to work until the next time we have a foggy day and we really need it. Grrrr.