About nine o'clock this morning, we prepared to leave. Roy started the engine, and I began cranking up the anchor. I asked Roy if we should bring in the blue trip line first, but he said to just go ahead and raise the anchor; the trip line would come up with it. So I cranked away. In due course, the anchor came out of the water. Almost simultaneously the engine died. The blue trip line had wrapped itself around the propeller. Roy had been watching the white float carry the line towards the stern, but he had decided the line wouldn't get caught in the propeller. He had no sooner reached that conclusion than the line wrapped itself around the prop.
Since the water was teeming with jellyfish, we hoped to be able to unwind the line without going in the water. I could see the white float next to the hull, so I got the pole and hooked the end of the float. I pulled as hard as I could but couldn't budge it. Roy restarted the engine. The idea was he'd shift into reverse while I pulled on the float, and the line would come unwound. But the instant he shifted into reverse, the float jerked so violently I nearly went into the water. I thought the pole would be pulled right out of my hands, but Roy immediately shifted into neutral and the hook released the float. So much for that great idea.
Roy went into the water with his knife to cut the line, but luckily he was able to pull the line off the prop without cutting it. And he didn't get stung by a jellyfish.
At last we were on our way due north. It was a very calm, hot day, so we had to motor. No breeze at all. We had planned on going to Herring Bay, but as the day went on, we realized it would be dark long before we got there, so we decided to anchor in the Patuxent River instead.
Dale and Herb had told us they were going to go to Smith Creek, but it was such a nice day they decided to continue on to the Patuxent River, where they ended up anchored next to us.
The day was miserably hot. Worst of all were the flies. They were all over the boat, and their bites were painful. Later, the bites itched like crazy. We went through Central America without a bug problem, and now we get zapped back here in the United States.
Sometime during the afternoon, we saw an old ship in the distance and decided to go over and investigate. It had gone aground long, long ago, and the navy had been using it for target practice, so it was full of shell holes as well as rusty. There were two other small boats next to it. Someone was diving off one of the boats, and the other was full of kids fishing.
Around two o'clock, I was typing away at my new computer when I heard the marine operator calling the Jofian on the VHF. I rushed to the transmitter as fast as I could, but I had to crawl under the computer cord, so that slowed me down a little. Nevertheless, I don't think it took me more than half a minute to get over there. To my dismay, the operator was already gone. I kept calling her, but got no response. Finally, Roy told me he thought she had said to answer on channel 26, so I tried calling her there, but she didn't answer. I tried 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 84, and 85, as well as 16, but couldn't rouse any marine operator, which seems strange. I hoped she'd call us again, but she didn't, so I decided to try calling the marine operator from a public phone as soon as we got to land.
We anchored in the Patuxent River shortly after seven and immediately hopped in our Royaks and paddled to a marina. Put in at a ramp and carried our Royaks up to the grass. Asked a woman where we could find a grocery store and a public phone. She said there was a phone across the street at the laundromat, but it was a long walk to a 7-11. We wanted to get a bottle of milk, so we set off down the road looking for the 7-11. Asked several other people along the way. The last one said we'd see it as soon as we went around the curve up ahead. It was half a mile to the curve, and no sign of a 7-11 when we rounded it, but after another quarter mile or so, we finally found it. Bought the milk and then went to a Roy Rogers fast food restaurant for supper. The chicken was delicious.
I went to a public phone to call the marine operator. The first one I talked with was in Baltimore. He said there was no record of a call for the Jofian. Then I tried to phone the one in Norfolk. You'd think the regular operator could connect you with the marine operator, but no; she said I'd have to get the number from Directory Assistance and call her myself. The Directory Assistance operator was unreal. She didn't have the vaguest idea what a marine operator was. She was looking under government offices. When she told me that, I informed her that the marine operator worked for the same telephone company she did. Then she finally found the number.
The Norfolk marine operator was very nice, but she didn't know anything about a call to the Jofian. She said they didn't keep records of their calls. I told her exactly what had happened and asked why the operator hadn't tried calling us again. She said they didn't do that; they called once and then went to another channel to wait for a response. She made the surprising statement that once they went to another channel, they couldn't return to channel 16! I asked her why not, and she said, "I don't know." On the West Coast, the marine operators call over and over again until the get you, but I guess every phone company is different. Anyway, now I'm going bananas trying to figure out who called us.
When we got back to the Royaks, the tide had come in. We thought we had left them plenty high on the grass, but the water was lapping at their sterns!
It couldn't have been a lovelier night to go paddling. The moon was bright, the water totally calm, and the temperature ideal. We stopped by the Solaris for a brief conversation with Herb and Dale, and then returned to the Jofian.
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