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We departed Chestertown at five in the morning bound for Solomon's Island down on the Patuxent River on the western shore. The day offered little in the way of sailing. Catspaws toyed lethargically with the skein of the water and fish stirred along the embankment, but for the most part, the water stayed as smooth as a child's skin, and no amount of wishing would change the way things were. This, however, did not stop us from setting sail, if for no better purpose than to shake out the rainwater. Pride II anchored up in the mouth of the Little Choptank River in an empty, lonely spot called Trippe Bay. We were not lonely long; a workboat roared up out of the gloaming, laden with revelers kicking off the Memorial Day weekend. After circling and hailing us, they tore off into the gathering darkness. A Force 5 breeze kicked up during the night and, when daylight dawned, a small yacht rode unquietly a short ways off our starboard beam.

As far as backyard barbecue weather goes, Memorial Day was a disaster. A brisk nor'easter brought a cold, persistent, and driven rain to the Bay. But for a sailing vessel with a southerly destination, these are the ingredients of a quick passage, wet or dry. The crew hauled up the anchor, and as soon as the bow paid off, the fores'l was set, followed briskly by the stays'l. Once the anchor was securely catted, the foretops'l was laid on. With 20 knots on the quarter, Pride II came screeching out of her evening's lodging like she was she was trying to dodge the bill. Initially she was making 9 knots over the bottom, but then settled down to a seven and a half knot romp down the Bay -- this under only three sails. It took a series of jibes to get out of the Choptank and then another series to get into the Patuxent River. We nosed up into Zahnheisers wharf at Solomons and secured the vessel just as the rain let up.

Solomons

The next several days at Zahnheisers were characterized by heavy duty vessel maintenance, with particular emphasis on cosmetics. It takes a lot of labor to maintain Pride of Baltimore II in the manner to which she is accustomed. But the standard was set the day her keel was laid and those of us charged with her upkeep have no choice but to uphold that standard. All of the crews that ever sailed in either of the Prides have invested heavily in the appearance of the ship. Being aware that the vessel may well be seen by more people this year than in any year in the past, we have even more motivation to make her shine. All we ask for is perfection. Adapting the old Navy maxim "everything that doesn't move gets painted" -- much of it in the last few days at Solomons. There is no saluting aboard Pride II.

The clock struck June before it was time to leave Solomons. The days were warm and sunny, giving the first taste of summer after a cool, wet May. The evenings were exquisite, the grass heavy with dew. The crew launched the ship's boat, Chasseur, and every evening her wee sprits'l rig could be seen plying the channels and waterways of Solomons, both after work and again after dinner. The crew would pile in, four or five at a time, rig the mast, sprit and sail, and wander about the harbor, chasing puffs and drifting through pools of calm. Her shapely clinker hull, with its fresh coats of paint and varnish, and her wooden spars are a welcome contrast to the fiberglass and aluminum denizens of the local marinas.

A couple of weeks ago, midshipman Cam Bowdren joined Pride of Baltimore II as a supernumerary, sailor-in-training for his high school senior project. Cam has been assigned to a watch and participates in every aspect of shipboard life. The learning curve is steep but he is thriving and gaining a rare experience. Among his rare experiences was falling into the trap of taking the Captain, the First Mate, the Bosun, and two Deckhands out for a sail in Chasseur. He was standing nearest the tiller when the painter was cast free. I'd be damned if I were going to go for an evening pleasure sail and be in charge of anything more than keeping the seat of my pants out of the bilge water. So there's Cam, a capable sailor, but now in charge of an unfamiliar and quirky vessel with a cargo that includes five professional mariners, four licensed Masters, 40 years of cumulative seatime in sail, and countless nautical miles under the collective keel. After missing stays a few times and sailing into a mooring field that coincided with a wind shadow (causing us to break out the auxiliary oars), Mr. Bowdren got the situation in hand and took us for a ripping sail down the harbor. Then he beat Chasseur back up to the ship's side as dusk fell.

Calvert Maritime Museum

Time off was scarce at Solomons because the port call represented too good an opportunity to do uninterrupted maintenance. An Open House and a school tour were our only mission-related activities, the rest of the visit being devoted to sanding, painting, and varnishing. Each watch, however, got a half day liberty.

Many used it to visit the Calvert Maritime Museum. Like many of the best museums, the Calvert Maritime Museum is small but good at what it sets out to do. The Museum deals with the role of the Patuxent River area during the War of 1812, where considerable action occurred. It also covers the history of the fossils and excavation at Calvert Cliffs. The world of the waterman is featured, along with some great examples of traditional Chesapeake Bay watercraft. The rise and fall of the sturgeon fishery is another area of focus.

Interesting as all of this was, for sheer enjoyment nothing topped watching the otters swim their endless circuits past the glass walls of their outdoor tank. Is it as fun for them? I don't know.

Crabfeast Aboard

Before leaving Solomons, an obligatory crabfeast was held on deck; attendance and participation were mandatory. Believe it or not, one or two of our crew hadn't tried crabs Maryland style! To my way of thinking, this fact represented a very serious miscarriage of reason, a collapse of logic, and a fundamental disconnect between Pride II's philosophical mission and the human resources charged with its execution, i.e. the Foot Soldiers of Goodwill, the crew. Part of representing Maryland is appreciating Maryland. But how can one appreciate Maryland and the Chesapeake without having rolled up one's sleeves and plunged into a box of hot crabs, torn them limb from limb, flung their empty husks, juice flying all over your shirt and onto the people sitting next to you, gnashing through shells, and generally working oneself up into a crab lather, the aroma of which no amount of bathing can eradicate before nature has run its course? How, I ask you? The answer is simple: it cannot be done.

Therefore, after consultation with the officers and the cook, we set about remedying the situation, approaching it as one would a delicate training mission. The cook, Andy Jackson, procured a box of hot crabs caked in Old Bay from a local fishmonger. He deployed paper toweling strategically around the vessel. Much as one would have medical back-up on hand when conducting certain types of training, an alternate food source was prepared and kept on hand as an emergency precaution. A variety of likely antidotes were stockpiled and maintained at the manufacturer's recommended temperature in a specially designed climate controlled box. To make a long story short, as a scientific experiment I suppose the crab feast could be classified as a failure because next day both the crabs and the antidote were gone. In strict scientific parlance, there was no control. However, in terms of training, it was a successful undertaking. Everyone ate at least one crab. Deckhand Ellen Ewankow showed particular bravery in the face of crab guts spilling out on her lap and managed to press on with the sordid affair despite extreme reluctance. Based on the fact that everyone stank of crab the next day, I judged the evening a great victory for the kind of proactive approach that we need to take toward the training of serious professionals who are seeking to expand the scope of their experience and accept greater responsibilities in the tireless crusade to spread Goodwill in the name of the great state of Maryland.

Also in the matter of crabs, Ms Tognoni satisfied her self-proclaimed desire to catch crabs by buying a net and some bait, and lowering the affair into the brackish depths at the foot of the dock. Her efforts actually yielded a number of the creatures, some of them keepers, and one bloody, pinched finger. She was, however, persuaded by her environmentally sensitive shipmates not to seek revenge by boiling the offending crustacean alive. The little fellow was released over the side and withdrew, ghostlike, into the gloom of his native world.

Off to Washington, DC

On sailing day, the Bay was as still as a glass of water on a hotel nightstand. We were bound for our nation's capital, Washington, D.C. Pride II puttered out of the Patuxent River and headed south toward the Potomac River. A Man Overboard drill broke the monotony. While it was productive and is always worthwhile, it could not be described as realistic, and that is as important to recognize as anything when doing drills. Pride II steamed to the south, a slick ripple emanating from her bow like a flight of geese. Shortly after entering the mouth of the Potomac River, a sou'westerly breeze sprang up. It was mid-afternoon by this point and only a few miles farther to the anchorage. Sure, we could have motored the last few miles, but this crew likes to sail, and the more we sail the better we are at it. Therefore, we cracked on the four lowers, the foretops'l and the jib tops'l and tacked our way up to St. Clements Island and dropped the hook.

In a trice, our ever-resourceful Bosun, Jesse Kenworthy, rigged a rope swing, sometimes known as the "splatline." After furling sail, it was time for swim call. The crew took turns swinging out and plunging into the Potomac. Shortly after dinner, thunderheads began swelling up out of the west. By 2000 they were upon us. The gusts barely reached 30 knots and the worst of the lightening and rain bypassed us. Nevertheless, given the forecast for possibly violent weather, I took the precaution of setting the other anchor. By 2300 the river was glassy again so we retrieved our storm anchor before it could become fouled with the working anchor at the turning of the tide.

The next day, June 3, was an uneventful motor farther up the Potomac to an anchorage off Mount Vernon. This is always a lovely spot to lay for a night. With the exception of a few bugs, it was as fine as ever. Coming up the river, however, we were struck by the number of large, dead carp that were adrift on the waters. Arrival Day brought a fickle and light breeze, though it was from a generally favorable direction for sailing the remaining miles. The sails drooped languidly and were at a loss as to which tack they preferred. We fired the customary salute at Mount Vernon and the non-customary one at Fort Washington.

When Pride of Baltimore II passed through the Woodrow Wilson Bridge, she was carrying four lowers and a fore tops'l, all plain sail. With engine assist, we negotiated the channel up toward the city, sometimes steering by the Washington Monument, sometimes by the Capital dome. It is forbidden to fire cannons in Washington, so the gunners exorcised their aggression by letting fly with a few charges while passing Old Town Alexandria. The Alexandrians never seem to mind. Approaching the Washington Channel, where our dock lay, the breeze steadied up a bit and the sails filled. We sailed past East Potomac Park and up into the basin and took sail just off the pier.

Washington, DC

The stay at Washington was a departure from the season we have known thus far. We were greeted by a number of local officials. The Mayor's mother sang the National Anthem to us. For the next five nights, the crew and I were guests of the Washington Police Department, though perhaps not in the sense with which one normally associates such an arrangement. They, and the Fireboat Services, graciously made their pier facility available to Pride II, her crew, and to the parties using the ship for the better part of a week. In addition to our usual Open House (Aben Skip in Danish) and School Tours, three large evening events were held aboard.

Lastly, the committee dedicated to bringing the Olympics to the Baltimore-Washington area in 2012 held a smashing event on board attended by Mayor Williams and a number of past Olympians. Cam Bowdren, our resident sailor-in-training signed off here.

Alexandria, VA

On Friday, June 9, we shifted down to Alexandria for their annual waterfront festival organized by the Red Cross. An abbreviated Parade of Sail consisting of ourselves and one other schooner kicked things off. All weekend there was music in the park, fireworks at night, and Open House aboard by day. Approximately 3,000 people boarded Pride of Baltimore II during the weekend. The weather has been brutally hot and humid, but what else is new under the sun in the month of June in this neck of the woods? It will be good to head north and get out on the open waters of the Atlantic later this month.

The Starboard watch and I enjoyed an unusual day off while at Alexandria. The U.S. Coast Guard buoy tender James Rankin was operating on the Potomac River, and her captain invited us to join them for part of day to see what they do. Buoy tenders are specially designed craft equipped with cranes and hauling apparatus that enables them to replace, maintain, and relocate aids to navigation. They can even refuel lighthouses. The Rankin is a state of the art example of this kind of ship. Her propulsion systems are Z-drives that are integrated with a sophisticated navigation system in a way that enables her to maneuver and hold position with extraordinary precision. Her captain, Paul Dilger, the officers, and crew demonstrated the capabilities of the vessel and the specialized nature of their work with obvious pride. The captain even let me recover a buoy and re-set it. Needless to say, he didn't wander very far away, and the crew did all the real work anyway. As a mariner, it was extremely comforting to witness the professionalism and the seriousness with which these men approached their work.

Today is an all hands maintenance day. There are no events scheduled. It is always amazing to see how much work the crew can accomplish in a day when there are no interruptions. Robert Foster, former crew member and survivor of the Pride of Baltimore, stopped by to show his family the ship and take us on a shopping run. He and his wife were married aboard seven years ago. Tomorrow we will pass through the drawbridge at 0445 to beat the Washington rush hour traffic. Tonight, early to bed.

Watch Below,
Captain Parrott