What I Saw this Morning

This is what I saw when I climbed up into the cockpit this morning.

Anchored in a bay off the Potomac River, called Breton Bay

The sun shimmering on the water, so intensely dark blue in this first hour after sunrise. There’s a long, low, white restaurant on the shore with outdoor seating. Glowing in the early morning sun. Empty of course, at this time of day.  A few houses tucked into the trees of the bay surrounding us.  

A football field length away, a middle-aged man in a small clean boat with a roof overhead. We mistook him for a crabber at first, but upon closer inspection, he must have been a scientist of some kind. Moving trays around on the small boat, adding something to some trays. Stacking them away and moving on to another spot on the water.

A Blue Heron (maybe a young Great Blue) standing on a channel marker, ostensibly guarding the osprey nest below him. No osprey to be seen anywhere. Through my binoculars there was another Great Blue Heron standing stock-still in the tall grasses on the shore. Thinking he was invisible, I suppose. Just a stick in the grass.

Great Blue Heron

We pulled anchor and got underway. There was an eagle far away, sitting at the top of a dead tree. Would never have seen him without the binoculars. Moments later, another eagle atop a green tree, his white head making him visible against that green even without binoculars. Then he flew, or rather, soared and flew in great sweeping gestures across the sky.

A flock of cormorants, flapping desperately, coming from somewhere low on the horizon and rising across the water to land one by one on the multitude of stakes that made up a fish weir, or trap.

Cormorants

A flock of Pie-Billed Grebe, flapping for all they were worth to maintain a short distance above the water. Their silhouettes with head lower than their feet remind me, oddly enough, of an old film clip—Esther Williams taking a swan dive off a tall board.  If I did that, it would turn into a belly flop.

See the Anhinga, lower right 

One Anhinga. I almost said “one lonely Anhinga” but why should I think an Anhinga is lonely. I always see them swimming alone, their long necks and heads the only parts visible above the water. I saw an Anhinga up really close one time, swimming beneath the walkway on land. The way his feathers spread out just a little so that his wings rested lightly below the surface, holding the bird in perfect balance kind of like a sailboat. Lovely.

He's caught something

Lots of Gull-billed Terns or Sandwich Terns (very hard for me to tell them apart) flying maniacally. Up, flapflapflap, then down, flapflapflap, and up again, and swooping flapflapflap toward one another. Like it’s some kind of bird soccer game, without the ball, of course.

Immature gulls, one here and there, flying, then resting on the water again. Immature gulls seem to be more plentiful up the Potomac. The mature ones are out at the ocean. Do they tire quickly? Is that why they spend more time sitting on the water than other birds we see?

There must have been fish on the last boat.

My husband putting on a long-sleeved shirt over his knit shirt. There’s wind on the Potomac today, on our nose. A fairly common experience for us. “Wherever we want to go, that’s where the wind is coming from.” We can’t sail directly into the wind, so we’re motoring again.

Sailing beneath flight path of Reagan Natl.

The American flag flogging in the wind on our starboard side. Our third American flag since living onboard.  It has some wear left in it before the wind tatters the loose end that whips onto itself and eventually frays.  I remind myself that our flag represents something much bigger than our current Administration.

Still on the Potomac

A cockpit that is in need of cleaning. The cushions will be spread out on a dock and scrubbed within an inch of their lives. The cockpit floor with its’ nonstick is scuffed and will require elbow grease to remove a stain from spilled wine, and another from some mystery liquid. Dust bunnies and dead bugs ready to accumulate on the scuppers when a bucket of water is thrown at them.

A lovely dragonfly

I see where I made errors in constructing some sewing projects.  I should have used black, not white zippers to attach the shade panels on port and starboard, like I did when I remade the aft panel. The bridge between the dodger and bimini was not sewn taut enough to keep the following edge from whopping back and forth in the wind. After 4 ½ years, should I bother to correct that design flaw before selling the boat?

I see my own feet wearing stockings inside a pair of Croc sandals. The socks are like new. Hardly ever worn over the past years on the boat. The Crocs have held up remarkably well, but at some point, something is bound to give way.

Potomac is wide

Behind me, in the galley below, the sink is full of dishes.  My husband fried eggs and made us toast on top of the burner this morning.  Good coffee, too. Made in an AeroPress©. It would hold its’ own in competition with Starbucks. Some folks might think that I would want to get those dishes washed up first thing after breakfast. I am, however, not one of those people, but they will get done…soon… probably. Sometimes writing comes before other more practical matters.

Lighthouse in Chesapeake

The Potomac shorelines are far away. The River is wide now and getting wider. By the end of today, we will have exited out the mouth of the Potomac and rounded the point in order to head back in to shore to anchor at Solomon’s Island, Maryland.

Sunset at last anchorage

After today, there will be just one more day on the water, heading north toward Annapolis, our final destination. I hope we can have one more day to sail. Shut off the trusty diesel Yanmar and just sail Northern Star one more time. Shake out the sails and listen to the sounds of the water and the birds. And the occasional plop of a fish hopelessly leaping for freedom. Can't blame him for trying, but it's important to know where one belongs. And I'm betting that fishes' fate is to be dinner for a bigger fish.