Chesapeake Trouble

Norfolk and New Friends

I talk a lot about how the universe has a funny way of making things work, and the magic of the universe was especially strong during June. Grace and I booked it through the Dismal Swamp because we had plans to meet up with my college skipper Tom that evening in Norfolk, VA. As we drove Elpis through the chaos that is the naval base in Norfolk, scary-looking space boats looming over us on all sides, a twenty-something guy in a skiff pulled up next to us. “Are you girls Loopers?” he shouted over to us.

Grace and I nodded. Who was this guy? No one under 50 has ever heard of the Loop. “That’s awesome! I did the southern part of The Loop right after college with some friends,” this guy told us. He introduced himself as Tyler, we chatted for a few minutes, and then he took off up the bay.

Grace and I remarked how strange that encounter was and then went back to navigating and making our way through the bay at a slow 5 miles per hour. About twenty minutes later, we saw Tyler’s skiff pull out of a harbor and head straight for us. “Should I slow down?” I asked Grace. Haha. Once again, Tyler pulled up next to us, this time holding up a six pack. “Can I join y’all? I brought beer.” Grace and I looked at each other and shrugged. Why not? We tied his skiff to Elpis’ stern and Tyler climbed on board. We learned that he was from Mobile, AL, had graduated from the Naval Academy, was now flying helicopters, loved to sail, and that we even had mutual friends (including Tom!). The chances of us crossing paths at that exact moment had been so slim, but he was soon to become a great source of help and friendship over the next few weeks.

Tom met us all at the local yacht club with his dog Rudder, helped us anchor (practically right in his parents’ backyard), and then brought us to a Real House for air conditioning, fresh food, and showers. A crew switch had to take place – Grace had to head back to Michigan for a week, and our friend Sophie (who we had met in the Exumas) was coming to sail with me – so I had the luxury of hanging out with Tom’s family for a few days. Tom’s mom Julie deserves an award for being the best host ever. We made brownies (that she later delivered directly to Elpis!), she cooked the most delicious meals all week, she took me on fun tours of Norfolk, and she even drove me to Target!!! I was ready to stay forever. A thousand thank yous to Tom’s family, the kindest folk. We appreciate you!

Navy Ships and Navigation Adventures

I was roughly 87% sure I could handle cruising on Elpis without Grace; after all, I had been living on the boat for over nine months. As it turns out, I actually kind of hate the Chesapeake. I think I lost about ten years off of my life from stress that week. Sophie and I began our journey feeling a little apprehensive. Our first mission was to get fuel, and to do that, we had to cross through an extremely chaotic area of the bay. There was a giant shoal directly in front of where I wanted to go, with one large ship to the left of it and one smaller ship toward the right. We were following what seemed to be the most logical path (to the left) when a ship hailed us on the radio, the message a little static-y. We understood that the general gist of the message seemed to be “give space to the boat.” But which boat? We weren’t sure. I assumed it was the boat I was nearest to on the left, so we pointed Elpis away from that boat and toward the right side of the shoal. The voice on the radio came back, this time much angrier. I then pointed Elpis back the original direction. I was feeling really stressed about it until I texted my friend about it and he said not to worry, his parents once sailed right over a submarine. Life happens. The navy yells at you. We all move on.

There are all sorts of navigational markers in the Chesapeake, a few marking a shipping channel, but many with all sorts of unfamiliar labels on our chart. Thank goodness we have the “How to Read a Nautical Chart” book for reference, because without Grace there to reassure me, and rattled from the experience with the navy ships earlier in the day, I began to question everything. Every time I heard someone speak on the radio that day my heart practically jumped out of my chest.

Lucky us, that week had plenty of storms forecasted and there were few protected anchorages that didn’t require going several miles up an inlet. I will just say that I did not sleep much that week because I kept staring at the multiple anchor alarms I had set, wondering if they really worked.

Fuel Filters and Four-Point Tie Slips

Early in our adventure, as Sophie and I were motor-sailing along, the RPMs began to go up and down. Every time this happened, we would look at each other, nervously smile, and keep sailing. This had happened with Grace and me before, but usually adding fuel solved the problem. But the fluctuating RPM issue persisted for a while, and we had just added fuel, so I had a sinking feeling it had to do with the fuel filters. I pulled out the engine manual and it agreed. I also contacted Madde (another Exuma friend) for a professional opinion , and she told me I needed to change the filters ASAP or it would be a long sail up the Hudson River without an engine.

Madde, perhaps sent into our lives by the universe, followed up her ominous text with “I have a friend in Deltaville who has a slip you can keep the boat at while you do a filter change. How far are you from Deltaville?” We were just a few hours out of Deltaville. It was meant to be.

We were really grateful until it was time to pull into the slip, which is one of those four-point tie slips which are literally my worst nightmare. Sophie and I managed to get Elpis set up at the dock smoothly, the only incident being that I stepped on my sunglasses, which was a loss I was willing to take if it meant everything else went fine. We then spent the afternoon preparing to do a fuel filter change.

I had watched Grace do a fuel filter change a few times before, but I had never actually done it myself. Sophie and I spent the afternoon watching youtube videos on changing fuel filters in a Yanmar 2GM 13hp engine and learned so much (did you know Elpis has the same engine as many tractors?). With the kind of flawless telepathic communication only made possible by living together for nine months, Grace called me that evening and walked me through the fuel filter change via speakerphone. It started raining as we were changing the filters, so Sophie and I had to close up the boat, wondering just how many diesel fumes it was safe to inhale before something bad happened to us.

Fuel filter looking filthy

Between the stop at Deltaville and the predicted high wind and storms the rest of the week, Sophie and I realized we weren’t going to make it to Annapolis in time for her to catch a bus to Philly, where she lived. After we finished the filter change, that was next on our list of things to worry about.

If you’ve never heard of Deltaville before, it’s okay because neither had we, and apparently neither has most of the modern day United States, because there is literally no public transportation anywhere within an hour of that town. We looked for breaks in the weather to sail further up the Chesapeake, but there wasn’t any viable shore town that also had public transportation. I don’t even think there were Ubers. We were at a total loss. Although Sophie was a little panicked, I just had this feeling that something would work out. “Just trust the universe,” I told Sophie. “It will help us out.” Sophie thought I was crazy. We asked some yacht club members if they had any suggestions, and they told us there was a big junior regatta that weekend with people driving in from all over, maybe even from a place with buses. It seemed to be our best bet.

Friends and Fishing Bay

The next morning, Sophie and I had to leave the yacht club. I drive Elpis in reverse all the time; that’s my job when we anchor, and I’d even practiced in narrow creeks on the inland river system. The thing about anchoring is that there usually isn’t anything behind you. Here, we had a particularly inconveniently placed boat at the exact space I’d have preferred to back Elpis into. We woke up at sunrise to make our escape without an audience. We planned it out ahead of time, using lines to leverage ourselves part way out of the slip before I threw it in reverse. I didn’t hit any boats. It was beautiful. I think I was prouder of myself that day than when I graduated from college.

We anchored later in Fishing Bay, a very deep but beautifully protected anchorage on three sides, still unsure about how Sophie was going to get home, wishing we had an adultier adult to make decisions for us. We decided to go check out the junior regatta. I got dressed in a Michigan shirt with the logo on the front (maybe some college sailing folks would be there and take pity on us), realized it was dirty, then changed into a different Michigan sailing shirt with the logo on the back. We borrowed bikes from a nearby marina and rode over to where the regatta was taking place. As we were walking in, someone walking behind me said, “How’d Michigan’s team do this year?”

I turned around. A friendly, familiar-looking gentleman was talking to me. “I actually graduated already, but probably not very well,” I said back. (Sorry, team.) He laughed, we talked about Michigan for a few minutes, and I tried to figure out if I knew him from somewhere. He asked what Sophie and I were doing at the regatta, and I explained how we were in the middle of a boat trip… then we both made the connection: it was Loren! I had stayed at his apartment in St. Petersburg, FL last Christmas! Now here he was in Deltaville, the most remote place on earth, to help coach his granddaughters in the regatta. What were the chances. Not only did he immediately save our semi-hopeless Sophie situation by introducing us to his son-in-law who would be driving to a city with a bus station that Sunday, but he and his daughter lent us a car, bought us groceries, and invited us to stay in their extra guest room at the air bnb they had rented for the regatta! Sophie and I were in heaven. We were so grateful for the kindness of this family. So much of the timing of things had to happen so exactly for Loren to find us. We spent the next two days sitting around expressing our disbelief at the unlikeliness of the situation and feeling thankful.

We enjoyed delicious food and high-stakes rounds of Uno with Loren and his family, exchanging sailing stories and good conversation, so happy we had all found each other. I felt especially appreciative for how many people this boat trip has introduced to me; I didn’t know anyone at that dinner table just months ago.

Although Sophie and I made relatively little progress up the Chesapeake, I was so glad she came to sail with me for the week. It was like having a little piece of George Town, Exuma with me as we spent the whole time reminiscing. Sophie just recently passed her Captain’s test, so catch Captain Sophie this winter in the Bahamas.

After Sophie left, I had to survive just 24 hours until Grace would arrive back at the boat (also courtesy of Loren, who, miracle of miracles, had offered to pick her up from the airport. We are literally forever grateful and also indebted to Loren and his family). During those hours, a squall ripped through the anchorage with gusts in the upper 40s, I learned that our anchor alarms do, in fact, work, I once again experienced the goodness of the universe and the kindness of the boating community, and I had the good fortune of meeting Reuel, who had circumnavigated with his family at age 5, his wife Pam, a photographer, and their friend Bob, who acted as my windlass and cooked a lovely dinner for me on their sailboat.

I had never been so relieved to have Grace back on the boat. With a newfound appreciation for Grace’s confidence, mechanical skills, and calming demeanor, I could have cried tears of happiness when Grace arrived back at the boat, ready to take on the Chesapeake.

We spent one last day in Deltaville, now my least favorite place on earth, riding bikes into town to find ourselves in the Cruising Outpost summer magazine! (Check it out at your local Westmarine. We're also featured in this winter issue.)

Grace and I said good riddance to Deltaville and headed on up the Chesapeake, hoping to make it to Annapolis by the next weekend. This week was a good reminder that, as tough as boat life gets and as impossible as a situation might seem, the universe is watching out for us and the boating community is full of good people.

Calm after one of multiple squalls

Neither of us got cake on our birthdays this year so we decided now was as good a time as any to celebrate

Fishing Bay

Weather is fun