For the long-time members, it evoked warm, comfortable memories of days of yore, when 9-boat trips were the rule rather than the exception.  For the more recent members, it was a joyous, robust occasion full of serendipitous potential for the future.  For the trip leaders, it was the culmination of months of constant effort and planning.  For everyone involved, it was just a damn good time.

Being responsible for the last trip of the year was a two-edged sword.  On the one hand, we had time to market the exciting opportunity to the members.  The downside was having to wait so long to reap the benefits of our efforts.
It became apparent early that this was to be a trip unlike any recent excursion.  The first five boats sold out in the first month.  No one withdrew until late August.  Eventually we added three more boats to make room for the 48 people who had signed on.  We had to tap suppliers from three separate marinas in Rock Hall to find enough boats.

The pre-trip meeting was very well attended.  Was this because it was a Sunday afternoon instead of the usual Monday evening?  Was it because we used a newer, more centrally located restaurant?  Whatever the reason, the atmosphere of the meeting and the bright fall afternoon was a harbinger of things to come.

Three days before the trip, NOAA lofted the spirits of all Chesapeake sailors with forecasts of 15-20 knot winds for Saturday.  By Thursday midday, the forecasts were much less exciting at 5-10 knots.  As if to punctuate disappointment, it was cloudy, cool, and showery Friday for the drive to Maryland.  We all knew our favorite restaurant, Waterman’s, had been destroyed by Hurricane Isabel and one boat was still being repaired when its skipper arrived, but none of this was enough to  dismay anyone.

As described in the members’ package, the first morning dawned clear and crisp.  A heron searched silently for its meal.  A blue sky with gem-like brilliance was a welcome ceiling on this cathedral of sailing we call the Chesapeake Bay.  Slowly sleep fled the boats and crews began preparations to get underway.

Slow and delayed departures forced us to abandon the plan to rally all boats in the Swan Point Channel.  The winds were somewhat stronger than predicted so our burgeoning fleet paraded across the bay under sail.  By the time the leading boats were halfway up the Patapsco, the last of the wind lifted and vanished.  Everyone motored into the Inner Harbor in rough intervals of 15-30 minutes.  A party atmosphere thrived dockside with the smiles growing broader and the laughter louder as each little ship put in.

Most crews made their way to Little Italy following a  suggestion that good and plentiful food could be had at Mo’s Crab and Pasta.  They were not disappointed.  Most had take-home bags because the portions were too much for one sitting.  After dinner about 30 people took a walking tour of areas in Fells Point that have a ghostly history.  Again most of them enjoyed the tour, especially the crewmember that found $20 in the street!  It was rumored that a single penny showed up in some boats the next day, just like the ritual of one of the ghosts of Fells Point.

The consensus was that the Inner Harbor East Marina was a perfect location from which to explore the Inner Harbor and its contiguous neighborhoods.
Sunday morning, the trip leader conferred with each skipper to pre-plan our raft configuration and destination.  There was a good 15 knots blowing and no one wanted to waste it.  We went sails up above Fort McHenry.  Most crews sailed all day until they got to Baltimore Light, which is off the mouth of the Magothy River.  The sailing was phenomenal.  Even the largest boat in the flotilla, the Dreamcatcher Island Packet, was overpowered by the wind and had to reef jib and main eventually.  The entire experience from rail-down to heaving-to to reef was invigorating.

It was decided that our planned raft location behind Dobbins Island was too exposed given the strong northerlies.  John Sefcik’s crew investigated Broad Creek and we decided to build our raft in the inner most branch of the creek. Larry Sherwood’s boat investigated how close it could get to the shoal buoys before running aground – and they found out.  Cecile’s boat decided to get a closer look at an all-glass contemporary home perched on a point on shore, and also temporarily went aground.  These minor diversions behind us, the raft began to take shape. Once the three-boat core was securely anchored, Raft Control directed boats onto either side of the raft until all nine were secure. The whole process took less than an hour.  Food and drink quickly appeared and “boat-ating” commenced.  Shortly after sunset, Stan and Marcia were surprised with belated moving-away presents.  A rousing rendition of “Happy Birthday” was sung by all to Friend of the Club skipper, Art Samaris, in celebration of his birthday.  Next came the show tune sing-along. 

The party lighting was provided by a few handheld spotlights that were on the charter boats.  John Sefcik’s boat was the center of mass for the party.  It helped that Nutsy Fagan has no bimini and therefore, it was more open to a crowd.  The surrounding shoreline was quiet but our convivial band of sailors was full of Terpsichore, singing selected tunes from “HMS Pinafore.”  Barbara thought it would be thematically appropriate and fairly well known, and it seems she was correct.  Little did Rob know that Judy Dunbar and Barbara had conspired to create an appropriate costume for him to wear while leading the singing as the Captain of the Pinafore.  (Rob thought he would have done better at Motown than Gilbert and Sullivan, but half the crowd really didn’t notice and the other half thought he did an admirable job.)  We learned by way of an old English drinking song the many things that can be  done with a “drunkin’ sailor.” The singing ended with a group sing of the trip theme song, “Save the Last Sail For Me.”  Rob’s request to his buddy Rich to “save the last drink for me” was honored, and a well-deserved Scotch was ready for him when the performance was over.  As the revelry subsided, the soulful sounds of a saxophone played by Walt Dunbar pierced the still night air, and thus ended the second day.

Monday morning was just as beautiful as the previous two.  However, there was little wind.  The trip had been so successful that few people were really bothered by that.  The line of boats strung between Baltimore Light and Swan Point Channel.  Not long afterwards, a line of cars retraced their ways home.  Like Jack Nicholson’s Joker, the smiles would not go away.  Some of us are still smiling.

Many people have indicated they looked forward to this recount of the trip.  We do not know if we captured it all or captured any of it well, but we do know that for those of you who were not on this trip…you just had to be there.