The Captain's Logs are below.

Read the Crew's Views from John, KC, and Caroline as they reflect on their experiences in Asia.

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After the excitement of the Great Chesapeake Schooner Race, the celebrations in Norfolk, and our brush with Irene, the crew and I were ready to "blow this clambake" and get out on the water again. Pride II's new crew came with all the makings of a great crew. But even with the race under their belts, what was still required was more time with each other and with the ship in order to forge that close-knit, interdependent entity that is so easily recognized as a professional crew. Tim Frush, Second Mate since the beginning of the season, signed off as scheduled in Norfolk. Christine Cleary, who has also been with us from the beginning, stepped up to fill the spot. Deckhand Chris Landers, who injured himself in Philadelphia, received a clean bill of health was able to fully resume his duties. The crew transition was complete. God willing, this would be the crew to finish out PrideII's 1999 season. Together we set off to explore the Bay and pay our respects to the watery communities of Maryland. At least the ones we can fit into.

Because of our Asia voyage last year and a later than usual start this past spring, there were many smaller ports around Chesapeake Bay that Pride of Balitmore II had not visited in at least two years. In some cases it had been longer. Our mission, as I saw it, was to fly the flag, reacquaint Maryland with their Pride, and get as many people as possible to visit the ship. Our goal is to dye the fabric of Maryland a deep shade of Pride.

St. Mary's City, MD

Fittingly, our first call was historic St. Mary's City where the Calvert family founded the colony of Maryland. In the spectrum of preferred waterways for Pride II to sail in Maryland, the St. Mary's River ranks high. Although it is relatively narrow, it is deep, unobstructed, and well marked. Having come all the way from Norfolk, it was well past dark when we made our approach. The high banks, however, offered good radar ranging. The Second Mate, Christine Cleary, manned the scope, checking our position every few minutes, while the Chief Mate, Tom-Tom Cloherty, readied the anchor forward. We dropped anchor off the point in 20 feet of still water. The chime of crickets traveled from the banks to where we stood on deck. For how many more nights will we hear this?

The following day brought an all-day deluge. We moved the ship from the anchorage to the dock at St. Mary's College. After some minor maintenance, we made it an early day. Even in the rain, however, one could appreciate what attracted the first settlers to this place: the deep water and the high ground. This stretch of river is still fairly pristine and offers spectacular views in any direction. During the stay at St. Mary's, Pride II hosted a number of school groups. The crew did some painting and varnishing once the weather cleared up. The last night was spent at the Dove docked at Historic St. Mary's City. A potluck dinner was held on the dock with the crew of the Pride and the Dove enjoying oysters and hot dogs together. The Captain of the Dove, Will Gates, had been one of my first captains many years ago aboard Harvey Gamage. The next day we sailed out with several of the Dove people aboard, bound for Solomons Island.

Solomons Island, MD

The morning was crystal clear. The northwest wind was fresh. By the time we reached the open waters at the confluence of the St. Mary's and Potomac rivers, it was gusting to thirty knots. With a reefed foretopsail, the staysail, and the foresail, Pride II was making nine knots. My original intent was to set more sail upon entering the Bay and see if we might short tack up the coast to the Patuxent River. Given the wind strength and the miles still to cover to windward, instead we brought in the canvas and chugged the 17 or so miles or so up to Cedar Point, hugging the western shore for a lee. Pride II berthed alongside the Solomons Island Yacht Club. Our visit was brief and was timed to coincide with the Governor's Convention on Tourism. Our stay in Solomons was distinguished by clear chilly nights and spectacular moon rises, waxing to full.

Fourth graders throughout the state study Maryland history all year. To that end, each week a different teacher has joined us for a full week to document the ship's activities and to bring Maryland history to life using Pride II and her travels as the primary vehicle. The War of 1812 looms large in Maryland history. Destroying the shipyards of Fells Point was an important objective of the British force in their attempt to take Baltimore. The attack failed giving rise to our national anthem. The shipyards they were after were building Baltimore clippers at a furious rate. These ships were putting to sea as privateers and wreaking havoc on British merchant shipping. What better way to bring this history alive than to go aboard the only existing Baltimore clipper in the world, the Pride of Baltimore II?

So once again, in Solomons and every port we visit this fall, local school groups come to visit the ship to learn about life aboard and to make connections between their history books and a real 1812 Baltimore clipper.

Alexandria, VA

Pride II sailed from Solomons Island on the Monday before Halloween. We were bound up the Potomac River for Alexandria, Virginia. The distance was great enough that we ended up anchoring two nights on the river. Some fine moonrises continued to entertain us, each night the moon rising a bit later, a bit diminished. Patches of autumn color began to show here and there, depending on what type of tree congregated where. Much to my surprise, we caught a fair breeze at one point and were able to sail for several hours on the river. That same morning we sailed through a live-fire exercise near Quantico, Virginia. Actually, they stopped shooting while we sailed by. Very sporting.

The night before arriving at Alexandria, we anchored at a spot directly beneath Mount Vernon. It was quite a sight to stand on deck and watch the shadows lengthening across the home of George Washington. It is so rural along the Potomac that one would never suspect that another few bends in the river will reveal our nation's capital. In the morning, we fired the customary salute to George as we departed the anchorage.

This was our second visit to Alexandria this year, and once again we had the distinction of holding up Interstate 95 while they opened the Woodrow Wilson Bridge to let us pass. We let fly with a cannon just as we went through and it was positively deafening. The bridgekeeper hailed us on the radio a few minutes later to say, "Now I know why the Polish army wears brown pants." Another cannon off the Alexandria waterfront produced a perfect smoke ring about four feet across. It blew across the water and up into the sky and disappeared.

The town pier at Alexandria is a delightful spot for the ship to lie. A beautiful park and promenade adjoins the dock right in the heart of the Old Town. It is a short walk to anything a sailor might want ashore. Erin the cook had strict orders to procure pumpkins and candles for the ship, as it was already the October 27 and Halloween was upon us. Time was found to allow the crew to carve Jack-o-lanterns and we soon had five flickering ghouls guarding the decks of Pride II. Dan Thompson (Pup) won the prize for creativity. He carved the face on the bottom of the pumpkin, poked the thing full of holes, and then smeared it with tar. Arrr.

The usual range of activities took place aboard our stay: two onboard receptions, two Open Houses, and two school groups. In addition, two dear friends of Pride II, George and Bobbie Walton, took the crew to dinner in Old Town one night and a merry time was had by all. We sailed on Halloween with a full ship and headed down river through a shroud of mist. In the brief span of days that were spent in Alexandria, the foliage along the shoreline had fallen deep within autumnal grasp. The isolated bursts of color that we witnessed upbound had given way to a general turning of the leaves on both banks. We carried on past dark with our Jack-o-lanterns lighting the way and anchored at the mouth of the Potomac at a place that the chart proclaimed to be Cornfield Harbor. Next stop: Baltimore.

Baltimore, MD

Ever since the Schooner Race, conditions had dictated a preponderance of motoring and a lack of sailing, much to the dismay of the crew and myself. Some of this was due to weather, some of it was related to the fact we had traveled approximately 200 miles on rivers where wind is fickle and the ship's heading is constantly changing. The trip up the bay brought more of the same. We anchored east of Kent Island on November 1, with a promise of fair wind the next day. Pride II got under way in a dense fog on November 2, but a sou'easterly soon filled in and the visibility improved. We set all plain sail and pointed her head toward Baltimore. A strong low pressure was forecast for the afternoon and I wished to be home before it hit. Beneath a thickening sky, Pride II glided silently up the Bremerton Channel, under the Key Bridge, dodging traffic, and gybing as she went. We fired a gun at Fort McHenry and another down Broadway at Fells Point as the first drops of rain began to hit. We still had two shots left and a perfect wind for sailing into the Inner Harbor. As Pride of Baltinmore II passed the Aquarium, the crew struck the foresail. She rounded up off the stern of the USS Constellation, bringing down the headsails, and backing the topsail.

The guns leapt and the final two shots resonated through downtown. The mainsail came down and we went alongside as the first gusts kicked in. We were not long at the Finger Piers when it began to gust to thirty knots. The air was heavy and tropical. Green-tinged clouds tore this way and that across the sky, and the rain came in heavy, along with some cats and the smaller dogs. But no matter; we were secure with doubled lines.

The stay in Baltimore was brief, though the crew did find time to beat our sagging jack-o-lanterns to pulp during a quiet evening in port. Then we were on our way again, this time to Havre de Grace.

Off to Harvre de Grace

Autumn brings wind. Weather patterns become more sharply defined and move more quickly. Cold fronts pack more punch and sweep lower and lower across the continent. On departure day, we once again had a fresh nor'wester of about 25 knots to speed us on our way. With just the foresail, topsail, and staysail, Pride II made eight knots down the harbor past Fort McHenry. The helmsman was steering nearly dead downwind with the topsail squared for either tack all the way past the Key Bridge. But I knew that once we reached the end of the Bremerton Channel over by the Eastern Shore, we would be able to set the mains'l and a jib and enjoy a first rate beam reach up the Bay toward Havre de Grace. But as so often happens with the autumn weather, the strongest winds move through quickly as high pressure fills in behind, leaving a sunny day and little to sail with. So it was for us. As the morning gave way to afternoon, the breeze that propelled us from Baltimore gradually subsided. Upon reaching the turning point in the channel, we set the main and the jib. For awhile she trotted along at a respectable seven knots. About the time the deck was coiled down, however, and the crew began to enjoy the sail, the wind petered out, and there we were. Well, this is all part of the game. If you want to sail, be prepared to not get your way. Pride II chugged the remaining miles to an anchorage in the Sassafras River and spent a quiet night on the hook serenaded by ducks.

Despite the sporadic sailing, the occasional gale or torrential downpour, the days on the Bay have been predominantly beautiful. Since we often weigh anchor early in the morning, we have been treated to many gorgeous sunrises. The fair days have been mostly warm and pleasant. Because we are generally anchoring at night, the crew has been freed up to work on the ship by day. A variety of projects have kept people busy: stripping and re-varnishing the aft hatch; painting the gun carriages; tarring the rig; oiling the deadeyes, cleats and other sundry wooden fittings; rust-busting and painting iron fittings around the deck; scraping and oiling the mast hoops, and on and on and on. The crew likes the ship. They are taking good care of her.

The morning of November 4 was spent pleasantly at anchor. In was a grand sunny day, and only 14 miles to Havre de Grace. Based on what is known of the channel leading up to Havre de Grace, I decided to wait for a rising tide that was due in the early afternoon. Other than being narrow, twisty, tortuous, and shallow, the channel into Havre de Grace is pretty straightforward. A number of people shook their heads when hearing we were going there, but the ship has been there before and the controlling depth was still reported to be 13 feet. Pride II draws 12 and a half. No problem. The worst part is the first part, when the channel describes a long gentle arc from the first buoy to the second buoy, a mile and a half away. If you steer directly for the next buoy, you will go aground. So you have to calculate your course like estimating the trajectory of a bullet, to arrive at the desired spot. A 15 knot cross-wind from the west southwest added to the fun, but as for the marksman, it is part of the game. For awhile the sounder read a steady four feet beneath the keel. No problem. Then it was three. Still no problem. Then two. Then one and a half. The helmsman asked, "So, the depth sounder…is that reading in feet? "" `fraid so."

One foot. It got all nice and quiet back aft. After reading .9', the bottom began to drop off again. Things were looking pretty good until a tugboat pushing a barge full of gravel popped out from behind an island to meet us at the narrowest point in the channel, just where it takes a dogleg to the north. The tugs generally draw around 10 feet. We sorted things out on the radio and they very courteously gave us the lion's share of the channel. Nevertheless, there was little to spare between the buoys.

Havre de Grace, MD

When we arrived off the dock, a crowd of thirty or so people was there to greet us. This was the first time a crowd had met us since we arrived back in the Chesapeake and it was very rewarding indeed. Once we got the lines on, someone ashore yelled, "Welcome Pride of Baltimore" and they burst into applause. So people are glad to see us after all. Two former crew members, now married, dropped by to see us with their three children. Josh and Diane gave us the use of a car for the time we were there. The Open Houses pulled in a good crowd and everywhere we went people recognized us as the crew of the Pride II. The town and the area around the mouth of the Susquehanna River is very picturesque and renowned for its decoy carvers. The crew finally got some well-deserved time off in Havre de Grace and spent it combing used bookstores, junkshops, and flea markets. Fall began to live up to its name as the sidewalks and curbsides brimmed with fallen leaves ripe for wading through. Hunting season had begun and one night a friend of the ship presented the cook with some venison which she made into a stew that, we all agreed, couldn't be beat. Some of us caught a High School football game one night, complete with a wobbly marching band, discombobulated cheerleaders, and an announcer who could not be understood two feet away. Adding to the pleasure was the fact that the home team was actually the visiting team because their own field had been washed out. This meant that in order to cheer for Havre de Grace, we had to cheer the away team. Did any of this diminish the enjoyment? Not a whit. When the time came to sail, everyone agreed that Havre de Grace had been a first rate, A-1 port-of-call.

Oxford, MD

Heading down the Bay, it was clear that the boating season was over. We passed the occasional yacht, but on the whole the Bay was empty and Pride II traveled swiftly and alone. The night before arriving in Oxford, we anchored in Herring Bay. The next morning, a light sou'west breeze allowed us to sail off the hook and across toward the Choptank River. We ran a Man Overboard drill part way across the bay, and recovered "the victim" under sail. For the first time since the Race, we had a chance to break out "the kites" and sail around for the fun of it, not to mention the practice. Later in the day, a Fire drill served to keep people on their toes. In the late afternoon Pride II ghosted up the Tred-Avon River into Oxford. The gunner, Dave Briddle, rocked the town with some of the best cannon shots of the year. It was my last day of sailing for the '99 season and it couldn't have been better. Though somewhat alarmed by the gunnery, the townspeople let us know in no uncertain terms that Pride II was very welcome. The Tred-Avon Yacht Club extended us their hospitality while we lay at their dock and the ship hosted school tours and the general public.

The next day Capt. Miles arrived to take command for the final two weeks of Pride II's sailing season. It was a raw, cold, blustery November day. All the gaiety of autumn was gone and the sky had the look of iron. The next day, I cast off Pride II's docklines. Standing on the pier, I had the mixed pleasure of watching her head out the Choptank toward St. Michael's, making sail as she went. The crew was a crew, as a crew should be, and the vessel looked splendid. As always.

Watch Below,
Captain Parrott