July 12, 2008.

We had a twenty couple mile trip to Saint Michaels on tap for the day. While leaving the anchorage this little girl seemed to be asking herself WWND? (What Would Nancy Do) We slipped our mooring at 1100 and soon had the sails up and the engine off. Our direction of travel was to be southeast, exactly where the breeze was coming from.

It was such a beautiful day we decided to tack our way down the Chesapeake and into the Eastern Bay. We moved directly across the bay at about 5 knots. Unfortunately, the wind started to diminish almost immediately. We ended up sailing between 3 and 4 knots for hour after hour as we tacked back and forth while we made our way down the bay. As we made our final tack towards the Eastern Bay there was a north bound sailboat nearby. It turned out to be Sapphire on their way to Annapolis. We said a quick hello and watched them disappear up the Chesapeake.

Finally, when we entered the Eastern Bay our point of sail changed to the northeast and we were able to ease the sails a bit. Then we were reaching along at 4 1/2 knots for another hour until the wind finally died as evening approached. We ended up starting the engine and motoring the last hour of the day into Saint Michaels. Or should I say next to Saint Michaels.

Saint Mikes has a tiny little “Y” shaped anchorage. Each branch of the Y has enough room for about a half dozen boats. There were already 8 or 9 in each branch so we were forced to anchor outside the harbor with a half dozen other boats. It’s very calm out here and we’re protected from the prevailing winds so things are good for now. We’re only spending 2 nights here and then moving 6 miles away to the Wye River for better protection from a hoolie that’s due on Sunday.

Late Friday night the wind started to kick a bit. Two boats were forced out of the overcrowded inner harbor. So they had to join the rest of us outside. By the time they arrived the wind had already died and it’s a good thing too. They had obviously spent the early part of the evening drinking their faces off.

It was a sailboat with 4 complete drunks aboard, I’m talking staggering. Their attempts at anchoring was the stuff of legend. The captain was giving orders to the deck crew over his loudspeaker, the anchor monkey was slurring a reply, a woman was amidships acting as amplifier for the slurring monkey and a useless fat guy stumbling around saying “I gotta pee”. All they needed was three rings and a calliope. The captain was ordering them to drop 70 feet of chain, not nearly enough in the 25 foot deep water. It was wonderful, a guy, drunk out of his mind, giving ridiculous orders to his wasted crew with his hailer so everyone in the anchorage could hear every word. We listened for 30 seconds as the chain just screamed from the locker; it had to be 200 feet if it was a foot. The captain backed down and nothing, the anchor no sticky. Of course, he probably never even got the chain unpiled off the bottom. Then they decided to try again. Somehow while they were retrieving the chain it got jammed in the hawse hole. They had muddy chain tightly jammed so they needed the deck wash and a screwdriver. So then there was the monkey, the big mouth drunk chick and the stumbling tiny bladder guy all with their hands in the anchor locker, with the hose spraying and the screwdriver prying at the chain. Partay! WoooHooo!

After a good 20 minutes the second boat used his hailer and told the sailboat that he was going to drop his hook and that then they could raft to him. He did this with ease and mercifully the rafting took place and the evening resumed its quiet calm. Way better than television.

Watermans Dictionary entry. Hoolie- pronounced who-lee. Excessive wind. As in....Its blowin' a hoolie out there.