All day, the phrase “For want of a nail” has been circulating in my mind, as if on a short, scheduled route, like a jitney in a theme park. (If you don’t know the line, Google it and then return to the blog.) (Read More…)

If all goes as planned, Robin will head north next Tuesday. Perhaps that would be better phrased: If all goes as we plan. (Read More…)

The breeze blew in here cool and refreshing as a drink taken from a tin cup dipped between the mossy boulders of a mountain spring. One of the boatyard denizens was actually heard at breakfast time complaining of the chill. Imagine, in the furnace that can be August on the Chesapeake! (Read More…)

I was on my way to the restrooms just before dinner when I encountered Richard, whom I’ve mentioned before along with his 105-year-old lugger, Rosalind of St. Ives. It is always a pleasure to meet Richard when he has enough time to talk, and this time he was seated before his shop, near the rigger’s shop, having an evening pipe before retiring. (Read More…)

Robin finally flew the coop. We are anchored in San Domingo Creek, the back door to St. Michaels off Broad Creek on the Choptank River. We sailed halfway here, not bad for mid-August, and we motorsailed the other half, which is more typical of this season. (Read More…)

Thank the creator I don’t work for the boatyard. If I did, I’d be painting today. (Read More…)

It is around dinner time, and I am waiting for my friend, whom I will call Rusty. He has no individual name, at least in any human language. He is a green heron, and he haunts the dock at dusk. I shouldn’t call him friend, though. Acquaintance is more appropriate, given our relationship. (Read More…)

A downside of working aboard is a day like Tuesday. The summer heat has left us in Oxford for a day straight out of October. The sky is so blue that the Chesapeake water is, too. And there is a sail-stretching breeze. (Read More…)

Yesterday morning was idyllic. At 7 o’clock the sun was muted low in the east by a few clouds it painted pale yellow. To the west, the sky was light blue, again with just enough little, puffy clouds, the sort a watercolorist would want to create for a scene of calm nature. (Read More…)

It was too hot at noon to spend much time outside, so having determined last night that the Oxford Museum would be open, I popped in for my first visit. (Read More…)