Saturday was forecast to be absolutely beautiful… mid 70’s and winds 5-10 knots which were supposed to swing 180º around noon. Following the age old wisdom that gentlemen never sail to windward, I thought I’d figure out an all day downhill trip.

The plan was to launch at Carter’s Creek in Irvington, sail down to Parrott Island, across the Rappahannock to Mosquito Point and around Mosquito Island. Hopefully by then the wind will shift and I’d have a run back to the ramp. I ended up going 20.5 miles in 6 hours. Average speed was 3.4mph with a max of 7.3mph.

I doubt my little economy car would do too well at this ramp, so I borrowed my dad’s F250. It drops off quickly and I did need four wheel drive to get the boat out without slinging rocks.

Tacking down Carter’s Creek. Getting off to a bad start with the not sailing to windward thing… This creek is named for Robert “King” Carter who was an incredibly wealthy colonist in the late 1600’s and early 1700’s. He was an agent for Lord Fairfax to manage the Northern Neck land grant and in the process built up an empire. He briefly served as governor of Virginia and in his will he left 300,000 acres, 3,000 slaves, and £10,000 in cash. Apparently when he died and Lord Fairfax found out how wealthy he was, Fairfax appointed his cousin as his agent instead of a native Virginian.

Eventually I made it to the mouth of the creek where a deadrise loaded with crab pots passed me. King Carter’s plantation is basically behind him although the house would have been to the right out of frame. Unfortunately nothing remains of the plantation… the main house burnt down during Carter’s life and according to his diaries he seemed most upset with the destruction of his wine cellar.

Out into the Rappahannock and heading for Parrott Island which is past the bridge on the right. I was doing about 3mph through here.

About halfway to the bridge the wind started to drop. I was still making progress though, about 1 mph which was partially the tide. I have a half baked idea for a topsail for these conditions. I’ve seen it done with sprit rigs and I think it would be an interesting experiment.

The most interesting thing happened as I approached the bridge. The wind died down enough so the water was reflective, but according to my GPS I was still making 3mph. I have added a tiller extension so I can sit closer to amidships which I’m sure helps.

Coming up on Parrott Island and the wind started picking up some. There were a lot of kayakers out and about in the shallow areas.

There’s a narrow channel marked by two rows of PVC pipe, but it was deep enough that I didn’t have to follow it.

Heading across the Rappahannock to Mosquito Point at 2-3mph. This section was marked by powerboats cutting in front of me like it was the upwind leg of the America’s Cup or floating apartments that are as tall as they are long throwing up a mountain of wake for me to bash through. And the ever present bumblebee trapped in a tin can sound of jet ski’s running around. I think I counted 12 or 13 sailboats within view, it was an absolutely beautiful day.

Coming around the back side of Mosquito Island. You might notice I’m suspiciously close to the marsh grass.

The wind changed a bit before I was expecting it to, so I had to tack my way up the narrow channel. At the very end I was trying to take a picture of the island when I ventured a little too close to the marsh and the centerboard got stuck in the mud. The bow started falling off the wind while I was getting the centerboard up so I pulled a U turn and tried again. I was surprised by how consistent the tacks were. I measured the angles and they average 93º which, from what I understand, sounds pretty good for a sprit rig!

After getting back out into the river I headed back for Carter’s Creek. For over an hour I was on a reach scooting along at 6-7mph. The tiller extension really helps with trimming the boat and hiking, but there’s a bit of a design flaw. I like sitting on the floor of the boat and when I do, the tiller extension angles down and rubs the varnish off the ~4″ of tiller I left sticking out. Not sure what I’m going to do to fix that problem.

Back at the entrance to Carter’s Creek. It’s narrow, curved, and busy. I counted six boats going through as I was approaching. Fortunately I was able to get through without too much trouble.

And tacking my way back to the ramp. Some of the funny tacks were due to wind shifts or dodging moored boats. At the end there I dropped the sails and rowed in to the dock. It’s interesting how the wind tends to shift at the mouth of creeks… I’ve noticed that every time I sail in tight quarters.

My GPS track of the trip.

I launched from the public boat ramp at the mouth of the aptly named Put In Creek. This creek flows into the East River which flows into the Mobjack Bay. It’s a nice ramp, although the parking is a bit limited and there’s no trash cans or restrooms.

Heading down the East River past Williams Wharf. This area has a rich history from the colonial period through the steamboat era. In the 1600’s and 1700’s English goods were unloaded and tobacco was loaded to export. In the 1800’s it was an official port of entry. In the steamboat era it was a regular stop and the James Adams Floating Theatre played shows here. In the mid 1900’s it was an oil depot. In the early 2000’s the Mathews Land Conservancy bought it and they are in the process of building a huge pubic access site. There will be a boat ramp, docks, fishing pier, nature trails, and a community center building.

Coming up on the mouth of the the East River and the Mobjack Bay. I saw four or five crabbers out checking their pots.

Looking back up the East River. Gotta remember what those houses look like so I can find the right place to turn when I come back!

Out into the Mobjack Bay! I kind of cut the corner at the mouth of the East River and it was pretty shallow. The centerboard never hit, but I could see ripples in the sand below. Fortunately the tide was rising and I wouldn’t have to worry about shallow water coming back… right? Actually I misread the tide table and the tide was dropping. We’ll see how that went when I come back. It’s probably too small to see, but New Point Comfort Light is just to the right of the point.

After making the turn into the Mobjack, I quickly shot down the shoreline. It was around in here where I started questioning Windy’s 10mph forecast. And to some extent my ability to get back. Since the wind was coming from the northwest, there’s about 10 miles of fetch. The waves were pretty steep and close together, but going downwind was smooth enough. A couple times I got the boat to surf down a wave for a few seconds which was exciting. Before I left I bedded the centerboard cap with some butyl rubber and I’m pleased to report that has stopped the leaking.

Getting closer! This is the last stand of trees on the peninsula before it turns into a long low marshy/sandy stretch. Just to the left of the woods out of frame is a wooden bird watching pier where I launched my canoe a few years ago to row out to the lighthouse.

I made it! I considered stopping, but there was 10 miles of fetch and I didn’t want to risk getting blown onto the riprap which was making a kind of scary crashing sound. Plus there are breaking waves off to the left where it gets shallow. I figured by the time I could get the sail brailed up and turned around into the wind to row, I’d be half a mile out into the Chesapeake. I’m glad I climbed it a few years ago so I wasn’t as tempted.

But I decided to circle it and call it a day. You can just make out the door on the bottom right. The riprap didn’t use to be nearly this high, but in 2012 Mathews County put these big boulders in place. There was a real worry the whole thing could wash away in a good hurricane. It’s still really exposed, but it’s probably better protected than it’s been since it was built.

In 1910 the keepers house and outbuildings were still standing. The water is starting to cut around the edge though.

By 1928 all that is left is the oil shed.

Nearly cut through by the 1950’s. You can just make out one wall of the oil shed which is still standing.

And here’s all that’s left today. The island is about 150′ x 150′ from an original 100 acres. This doesn’t show the longer dock that was built in 2016 to help restoration work sometime in the future.

The tower is made from sandstone blocks and stands 58′ tall. It’s in pretty rough shape. It’s interesting how 200+ years of sand blowing around has weathered the lower blocks way more than the top. When my wife and I landed we must have scared off 50 pelicans… everything was covered in bird poop and smelled like rotting fish.

I didn’t expect it to be open when I arrived, but somebody has ripped the lock out of the frame. There were no posted signs, so I started for the top! You can see how much the island has been built up to keep it from flooding.

Sandstone steps. There’s no handrail and you really need to be close to the wall to have enough space for your foot.

After 50 steps you make it to a wooden landing that looks to be pretty new. There’s a rusty ladder made from angle iron that leads up into the lantern room. One of the rungs has rusted through, so it’s a little sketchy.

There’s a tiny door to the balcony which is about 3′ tall and 2′ wide. Everything is rusty and covered in bird poop. I walked out onto the balcony and the railing wiggled enough that a good shove might rip it right off.

The steps are covered in loose stones and twigs that birds have brought in.

My wife took this picture of me at the top. Proof that I was there haha.

After rounding the island I started tacking back home. I pretty quickly found I had to sit on the rail to have any hope of keeping the boat upright. I’m not sure what the windspeed was, probably 20-25mph according to the Beaufort scale. I really need to figure out reefing… but it’s tough with a sprit rig. I’m thinking maybe drop the jib, then scandalize the main might be easier than trying to lower the snotter and tie in reefs. I really should practice sailing with just the main to see how it works.

This is the only picture I took until I made it back into the East River. It doesn’t look too bad, but there were a lot of whitecaps and the waves were short and steep. They seemed to be spaced about 1.5 boat lengths apart which made for a rough motion. A couple times a wave hit the side of the boat and covered me in spray and at one point a whitecap nearly broke into the boat. Fortunately she just slid up overtop of it. Looking at my GPS track, I lost about 50 feet every time I tacked, and sometimes it took a few tries to get through the wind. But when I was moving the boat averaged around 4.5-5mph.

I tried to cut the corner since I thought the tide was rising and I made it through on the way out, but I soon started hearing my centerboard bumping along the bottom. I couldn’t point up any higher and I really didn’t want to tack back into the Mobjack if I could help it. The water was quite a bit calmer through here, so I pulled in on the main sheet and used my balance to keep the leeward rail underwater. For nearly half a mile I kept the boat heeled over which kept the centerboard from hitting. Those side decks come in handy again!

Even though the water was calm compared to out in the Mobjack, tacking up the river back to the ramp was the trickiest part of the day. I’d get hit by sudden gusts of wind that would nearly put the rail under, then the wind would die just as suddenly and I’d nearly fall off the windward side from hiking. But I eventually made it back to the ramp and got the boat hauled out.

I guess the day went too well to get off without a minor disaster! Coming home I felt the trailer start to sway a bit and when I looked through the side mirror I saw a few chunks of rubber coming off. This tire was really old and starting to dry rot and I was thinking I should probably replace it. It took about 20 minutes to put the spare on and with that today’s adventure was over!

I won’t keep you in suspense, I did make it and here’s my GPS track. It was a 21.1 mile trip!

All loaded up and ready to head to Gwynn’s Island. I get some strange looks when I pull in at the boat ramp beside a row of lifted F250’s pulling 300hp center consoles. Clearly I’m in the wrong line of business.

I launched right at low tide and I was a little worried I wouldn’t be able to get to Rigby Island since it’s so shallow. Fortunately I could rely on a rising tide throughout the day and hopefully a boost on the return trip.

This time I did a better job of brailing up the sail. I think some bungie cords might be easier to use rather than wrapping the brail line around everything. I’m starting to get better at getting everything rigged and launched without incident. From arriving to launching took 40 minutes.

Heading away from the ramp on a run. My mother was a postmaster on Gwynn’s Island and she’s told me stories of how that swing bridge would sometimes stick open. One time it jammed just before a hurricane arrived and she was worried she’d have to stay in the post office. But fortunately they got it closed again.

Towards the bottom of Gwynn’s Island I saw a number of watermen checking crab pots. Growing up I used to think I wanted to work on the river, but I bet the freezing cold or sweltering hot days would outweigh the nice days.

Heading towards Rigby Island. It was somewhere along in here where I heard an unwelcome grinding sound emanating from the centerboard. The boat speed also seemed to take a hit. Looks like I was running out of water! I need to get a jam cleat and mount it to the centerboard cap for the downhaul. Currently I just tie the line around the thwart, but that makes it hard to get the board up in a hurry.

The sandy part of the island is so low that I was having a hard time seeing it and I strayed into a shallow area. I made a turn towards shore because most of the houses had docks, so I assumed there was deep enough water.

There are a lot of sandbars in this area and with the low tide they were just barely submerged.

Navigating by the color of the water. The sandbars seem to be pretty sharply defined though.

Heading out into the bay. I found a row of PVC pipes marking a channel between islands so I followed it out rather than follow the shore further south.

There’s Wolf Trap light on the horizon! It’s a little over 5 miles away. As I got away from shore the wind started picking up. The waves were the biggest I’ve had the boat in, maybe 3′ at times but the majority were probably 2′. At one point I had waves coming from two different directions and the wind from a third… so it was an adventurous trip. The boat really handled it well.

Eventually I made it to the lighthouse. I wanted to circle it, but the wind shifted so I’d have to beat directly towards it. Everything was making me start thinking about heading back, so I decided to turn around. Maybe another time. These pictures really don’t do the waves any justice.

Aiming at what I thought was Stingray point just north of Gwynn’s Island but it turns out that was actually Windmill point. I was a little over 20º off of where I should have been going.

After checking my phone I realized I was about to miss my exit.

Heading through the hole in the wall wing and wing. Despite being ~30 yards wide in places the channel was well marked. I’ve been thinking about making a tool that is a combination whisker pole, boat hook, and mounts to the rudder head to support a tent’s ridge line.

Nearly back to the ramp. I went 21.1 miles in 5.5 hours with an average speed of 3.9mph and a max of 6.8mph. I think I need to get my GPS tracker to take more finely spaced points. It’s currently set to take a point every 2 seconds, but I can’t believe 6.8mph is the max I hit today.

My planned path.

GPS track

The bundle could be neater, but it worked well. The framing could be better too… Totally didn’t notice the reflection in the water when I took the picture.

A pair of ducks that seemed a bit alarmed by their sudden change of pace.

The fog that was supposed to burn off before I even arrived at the boat ramp was still hanging around and there wasn’t much to see, so I started following lines of crab pots.

The theme from Master and Commander started playing in my head.