Monday, November 10, 2008

Fish Weir

We are currently in Beaufort NC and have had little to no internet access until now , so I'm going thru the ship log and updating the blog since our Annapolis departure just after Halloween.

We left Annapolis Nov 1st headed down the Chesapeake, thinking we'd end up in the Solomons but were making good time, with clear settled weather so decided to push on, the kids were doing great, really adapting to life on board and being creative with the accomodations. Lee cloths became hamocks, stored halyards became swings, and in the mornings comforters draped over lee cloths become forts. School has been going well also, and although we're new at being educators so far so good. We reached the Potomac and set to cross it, Twilight was setting in and there was promise of a beautiful quiet night (little did we know) although it was only a new moon. Laurel made dinner, tucked the boys into their bunks and we ventured into the evening.
We were headed for the Great Wicomico River, it was very dark by then and were starting to close in with the shore when we heard a cacophony of bird chatter, really loud in what seemed like hundreds of birds, Laurel swept a light ahead and suddenly a large fish weir appeared in front of us. Luckily we just missed it, although if we had hit it we would have probably gone right through it.

Fish weirs are odd medieval looking fish traps, they are built of rows and rows of saplings and larger sections driven into the mud usually in a circle. Sort of odd looking for our modern times, but effective.

Somehow escaping this whole weird and surreal event, with sticks in the mud and hundreds of birds really hit our funny bones and we chuckled about it for hours. Friends of ours that live in the upper Chesapeake and like to sail at night report having plowed right through one once. I saw no note of it on the chart although "fish trap areas" are denoted in other areas of the Chesapeake

We eased our way into the Wicomico, still chuckling to ourselves, found a good anchorage and settled in for a safe night's rest, no birds, no sticks in the mud.

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