It's not often that we get to untie the docklines on a random weekday and head out for a sail. With my husband's job, we're usually out on long weekends or planned holidays during the high season along with a million or so of our closest boat loving brethren here on the Chesapeake. But on this unusually chilly June day we set off with friends for trip about 3 hours north to the boat yard for a "short haul", meaning a haul out of the water for only a few hours to do a little work under the waterline. And then back in the water for a leisurely sail home.
(Zach takes the helm. )
Without needing to concentrate on dodging sailboat races or stinkpots or weekenders it was amazing to fall in love with our home waters all over again. We were able to slowly savor the familiar watery sights as they were dipped in golden late day light. The silhouette of our wee town, the channel markers we pass all the time but rarely slow to notice, that osprey we know so well because earlier in the spring we watched him swoop into the marina after a wind storm and collect those sticks one by one all day to build that nest.
And the bridge. These waters, this town, this state is so defined by the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. After going under it once, nice and slow Naia needed "More! More bridge, more trucks, more!" She loves trucks, that girl. And she loves that bridge.
Of course the slow rhythm gave way to sweet sleep. Same old settee, different view for this nap.
(Naia asleep on the settee, Zach spies a familiar landmark out on the bow.)
(The Annapolis skyline reflected in our salon windows.)
What a lovely kick off to the official season. Cool, quiet, magical. I feel quite lucky to be able to savor the beauty of the world and our own little neighborhood under sail, such a special perspective.
