Wye River

The stay on the Wye has lived up to all the hype in the guide by Shellenberger. We are spending our time on the east river because it appears to have less of a housing population. Our two days anchored under the Wye Heights Plantation were as perfect as we could have ever wished. On a daily basis, we took the dingy out to see the black sheep grooming the plantation’s large lawn.

From Quiet Waters Park to Shaw Bay

The absence of osprey was explained by our daily observation of the two local bald eagles. Snapping turtles abound and we have seen a large ray feeding near the mud flats. Our first evening under Wye Heights dazzled us with a stunning sunset.

From Quiet Waters Park to Shaw Bay

Staying in that tight anchorage could only have been comfortably accomplished with nightly lows below 70 and no strong winds out of the NW. Myron planned our stay there based upon the weather forecast, and this time the forecast held. Although the days may still climb to the 90’s, we are thankful for experiencing the coolest evening weather yet. Lately, the mornings and evenings have a fall-like feeling. Is it really still August? The cool nights make us feel as if we are tardy in commencing our journey back to Jacksonville. That is until we pull up the Jacksonville weather report. It is clearly still summer there!

For fun we have played around with ‘chicken-necking’ – the term for an amateur’s crab line. We do not have chicken necks, so we tied chicken bones left over from our dinner to a line with a small weight and sent it to the bottom next to Hold Fast. The theory is that the crab will hang on to his ‘catch’ as you pull up the line. We certainly see something working the line and can feel something on the line as we slowly bring it up. It is about half way up from the bottom that the theory fails and our potential dinner discovers the freedom in letting go. I heartily longed for a net yesterday when I saw a very large crab swim up from our chicken line and then alongside Hold Fast. I am not sure whether it was thanking me for the meal or taunting me. Either way the score is dismal, we are skunked and the crabs have picked clean at least five bones. While we are content with our rice and beans dinner, today’s adventures just might involve a small transaction with one of the local crabbers.

Love to all,
Dena

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