August 2nd:
Cape St. Claire, MD to Solomons Island, MD
(55 miles)

Kohl and I meet at 0300 to finish some last minute packing and prepare to depart. Alt Escape is kept in the water in Deep Creek (39°02N, 76°27W) off the Magothy River; so, launching isn’t an issue.

…An hour later and sheepish grins all around as we waste 15 minutes trying to start the motor. We have borrowed a couple of gas cans and a gas line/bulb from a friend to extend our range should the wind not cooperate. We discover, after trying nearly everything else, that the bulb works in only one direction. Instead of pumping gas into the motor, we’ve been pumping in the direction of the gas tank. We reverse the line, pump the bulb, start the motor. Slipping the bow and stern lines off, we head into the creek. The winds are calm, and the skies clear. The only thing disturbing the steam rising from the creek is the bow of Alt Escape making her way to the Magothy River and the Chesapeake Bay.

At 0715 we need to change to a second gas tank. We are about a mile north of Bloody Point Light and making good time. Traffic is surprisingly light. We haven’t seen any commercial traffic coming down the channel, and few sport boats are about. We have taken to trading time at the tiller. An hour on, then an hour off (a practice we continue for nearly the entire trip).

We call Gene on the cell phone at 0800 as pre-arranged. The phone service plays the message "Cell phone out of service area." We had talked about communications before the trip. VHF works great, if you are within line of sight. In this case, we were still 50 miles away. We had thought primary communication would be over cell phone in the beginning, and then switch to VHF later. We were never able to use cell phones for communicating between boats.

By 1100, we are sailing well at 5-6 mph and having an enjoyable time. Winds continue from the northeast, but have risen a bit to 10-15 knots. We continue to try to raise Coyote on the VHF, to no avail. We will have to wait until we get into Solomons Island to catch up with Gene.

We turn Cove Point at 1600, enter the Patuxent River, and meet Coyote at Solomons Island (38°19N, 76°27W). We set the anchor off her port side and attach a line from our boat so we can pull the boats close enough to jump from one to another. While aboard Coyote for dinner and drinks, we notice Alt Escape is the smallest boat around--a point of great pride for Kohl and me.

After dinner, Kohl and I borrow Gene’s dinghy to go into a marina for gas and ice. I guess it is true what they say about sailboats and marinas--all we stop for is a couple of gallons of gas, a bag of ice, and to drop trash. In this case, that is exactly what we did. Our trip down had burned about 9 gallons of gas, accumulated one small bag of trash, and melted a bag of ice. With two big guys (each of us topping 200 pounds) and two tanks of gas, we were nearly too much for the 6 foot dinghy. The cove must have been giggling at the sight of two men rowing a dinghy that had a scant 2 inches freeboard to keep it from sinking.

At 2030, while aboard Coyote for a nightcap, I am startled to notice that both boats’ anchors are dragging. We are being pushed by the wind and will run into a restaurant’s pier in a matter of minutes. I pull Alt Escape over, jump aboard, start the motor, and pull the anchor. I have only set the anchor by myself once before, and that was in a secluded part of the Magothy River in light winds. Now I find myself setting the hook in a crowded anchorage surrounded by boats that cost more than I could make in several years. Surely, my insurance company (which is carrying the boat on my homeowner’s policy) will not be pleased if I hit one of these fine vessels.

The only place I can anchor is between a Swan 43 and a 30-something foot power boat. After taking three passes round the anchorage to judge the winds and decide on a location for throwing the anchor over, I take my shot. The anchor sets right away, and I put the motor in reverse almost full throttle to ensure the flukes dig in hard. I put out a long rode and set about getting ready to sleep. Well, I sort of slept. I don’t think I slept for more than an hour at a time before popping my head out of the cabin to ensure I haven’t drifted. It is the longest night of the trip, but all turns out well.