With this being our final weekend on Silent Sky, we wanted to squeeze every second out of it, and I’d call it a success.
With a single reef in the sails in 15-20kts of breeze, I fell off onto a broad reach headed across the Bay. It had been breezy for a while, and as we emerged from the protection of the Piankatank, it got a little nasty. The breeze settled and the waves were generally 2-3′, but we’d get the occasional set of 4-5’ers as the current was against the wind. I kept the helm for a while, but I struggle in those conditions and I felt like my poor steering was causing the boom to slam around excessively (in reality, it was mostly the conditions – Chris steers better in those seas than I do, but we still got knocked around in the bigger sets).
The wind wasn’t supposed to be from a good direction for Tangier, so instead we headed for Onancock, leaving Tangier open as a possibility for Sunday. We got in early enough that we were able to head into town and check out North Market – a cute little cheese, wine and beer shop. It was the first good cheese shop we’d found since Southport, and we got to try a few cheeses along with some nice olive oil and balsamic. We picked up a local beer to enjoy along with our cheeses and had dinner in the cockpit with live music in the background right around sunset. It was bittersweet knowing that this was one of the last times we’d do that on this boat.
We had a relaxing morning and by the time we got under way, it had clouded over. There wasn’t supposed to be much breeze, but when we got out of the channel, it ended up being a perfect sail and the wind built to a steady 15. Knowing this was probably our last sail on Silent Sky was incredibly bittersweet, but I loved every second. Eventually I gave up the helm so Chris could have one last sail too. On what would have been our final tack to get into the anchorage, the gooseneck pin on the boom broke, so instead of getting in that last little bit of sailing, Chris had to go forward and jury-rig a way to secure the boom. We’d broken this pin once before (in Jamestown, RI), and it’s one of the few things on the Catalina 36 that we thought was really poorly done.
The wind was supposed to be out of the northwest shifting west, but instead it came around to the northeast and kept veering east, so the anchorage was rolly. We could have gone back to Onancock, but we hoped the wind would let up and shift to its forecast direction (spoiler alert – it didn’t). When the breeze settled down a bit in the early evening, we launched Squall and tried to go ashore in hopes of getting crab cakes for dinner. However, it’s SUPER shallow around Tangier, and we kept finding beds of seaweed which choked up the engine, causing it to stall out. When we couldn’t get it started, a local was kind enough to come out in his boat and tow us back to Silent Sky, refusing the gas money we offered in return. At least now we knew how to get in without ruining the engine, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed.
We had our morning coffee as we walked along the beautiful white sand barrier beach – it was good to feel sand between my toes again. And it was nice to be back in a place where I felt inspired to shoot – I haven’t really picked up my cameras much since we’ve been in Deltaville. Of course, in the process of remembering cameras, coffees, sunscreen, etc., I forgot shoes, so we had to go back to the boat, but by the time we headed back out, the waves had calmed a bit.
We FINALLY made it to town, and I could have spent the entire day just winding between all the fishing huts on stilts with crab traps laid out on their docks. To say Tangier Island is unique is an understatement, and I immediately fell in love. We tied up the dinghy at Parks and a family was nice enough to let us tie up to their Whaler so we could access the dock more easily. Tangier Island is remote enough that they have retained a colonial British accent, and it turns out that it sounds just like the white Bahamian accent we heard over and over in the Abacos. We had lunch at Four Brothers Crab House and the crab cakes were the best we’d ever had. After lunch, we took a quick walk (and I found a sticker for the log book), but we saw what looked like storm clouds forming, so we decided it was time to head home. Perfect timing – we ran into the people we were tied up to just heading back to their boat.
We had a little bit of breeze, but with the broken gooseneck, we couldn’t sail anyway. It was still a nice trip home, but it was melancholy – I couldn’t shake the thought that this was the last time I’d be at the helm of the boat I’d come to love so much over the past 8 years. But rather than focus on the fact that our time with her was winding down, I reflected on all the amazing memories that we’ve made.
2 replies on “Every Weekend Should be a Long Weekend”
Melissa and Chris,
It was so very nice to meet you this evening!
Wishing you nothing but the clearest of skies and smoothest of sails on your journeys!
Cheers,
Sloop Mike
An exquisite dedication to your Silent Sky, Melissa. Stay safe out on the high seas.
OXO Sally