FOG, BRIDGES & LIGHTHOUSES
Chesapeake, MD, Saturday, June 07, 2008
Waking up at dawn for an early start to our last leg from Annapolis to Riviera Beach, we find the creek and docks covered in a clammy fog. But visibility seems to be a couple of hundred yards and we put out in good hope.

Coming out of the Severn River onto Chesapeake Bay the fog is even thicker. Around us in the distance we hear but cannot see motorboats. A speedboat race is scheduled for today and the engine noises sound like P51 Mustangs revving up. We are apprehensive about negotiating under the Bay Bridge in the main shipping channel without good visibility. Eventually, we decide to move over a bit towards the shore and drop the anchor in about 12 feet of water. Most of the crew returns to bed while one or two keep watch with the fog horn at hand.

We wait from about 0730 until early afternoon. Various boats appear at speed and either leave us awash in their wakes. One sailboat helpfully asks us if we are all right and just waiting out the fog. Other boats approach us warily out of the pea soup. Thinking obviously that we had some better idea of where we are than they, we are asked for directions. After telling one motorboat that the ‘R3’ entrance buoy is SW at 1.5 Nm, he putters off to the SE and disappears into the fog again. Two sports fishermen come by and reappear two hours later. “Very thick out there,” they report. “Only one fish. Which way to the entrance?”

About 1330 the sky becomes a bit bluer above us and visibility seems to be improving. Off we go.

The Bay Bridge gives the appearance of rising on legs out of cloud. We realize that there have been a lot of boats out there the whole time in the bad visibility. Perhaps they have radar.

Motoring up the Chesapeake in weak following winds, we steer from one no-longer-manned lighthouse after the other. Weather forecasters have been sending out a “Heat Alert”; the fog has kept us cool so far. But as the afternoon progresses and the sun slopes to the west we are exposed to direct sun rays and begin to burn. The thought of a cold beer at the and of the voyage creeps in.

By mid-afternoon the anchor is down in a rural-looking cove near Riviera Beach and we are in the car heading for Kathleen’s parents’ house in Catonsville for a much-anticipated hot shower and a meal.