That trusted saying gave us some hope last night—AFTER a doozy of a thunderstorm. I’m sure that doozy ranks up there with severe. Unfortunately, I don’t remember “red sky in morning; sailor take warning” at sunrise earlier that day.
Just as Captain Pete was getting out the grill to cook some chicken, the skies (as in plural) turned from light grey to black. It was soon as dark as night and only 6 p.m. We quickly battened the hatches, and stowed everything blowable down below as the winds quickly increased to 35 knots or more. We didn’t want to venture out to take a look at the windguage. Pete let out a bunch more chain on the anchor rode and it did its job as the winds and more biblical rains continued for almost two hours. No chicken ever got grilled.
Earlier yesterday, we had gone through Kent Narrows on the Eastern Shore. There's 65’ clearance at Kent Narrows and the drawbridge opened on demand. Thanks to some dredging in the past two years, MicMac’s 5’ draft could make it through, and that saved us quite a bit of time on our way to the Eastern Bay and St. Michael’s. Kent Narrows looked like a fun place to stop, based on the tiki bar complete with LIVE palm trees. I didn’t know they could survive here.
Finally got in a great afternoon of sailing with 15 knot winds on our way to anchor in Tilghman Creek around the tip of Rich Neck. The tall pines on the neck are the site of a great tale, tall or not, about the hangin' tree out there on the point. Local legend has it that a slave, Simeon, failed to adequately keep his eye on the master’s young son and the boy died when his pony threw him. The slave was punished by hanging him from the tall pine on Tilghman Point. But his ghost still walks the beach looking for the little boy.
I didn’t see Simeon but I did watch that point (and its hangin' tree) for a long time during this storm of the week!
And yes, the red sky at night was true. We had great weather and clear skies this morning as we motored to St. Michaels. Pete dingied in to visit the museum and look at old boats, while I’m playing on the computer. Emails sure pile up when you’re away from the internet. . . and blogging is addictive.