By: Jane Meneely
Illustration by: Dick Goertemiller
The Bay glittered madly, as if sprinkled with a billion diamonds. The wave tops shimmered. Even the spray spilled across the deck like so many sparkling gemstones. It was as if the sun were in overdrive. And did I mention the breeze? Magnificent! Bearing southeast from Herring Bay on that fine summer afternoon, we had a steady reach across the Bay. All its myriad possibilities lay before us.
My friend Karen studied the chart thoughtfully. What are our options? she asked. I held the tiller of my little sloop Petrel and looked ahead. With the wind like this, we could drive all the way to Cambridge, I told her. But Karen shook her head. She wanted to go someplace new. With her index finger on the chart she traced the shoreline below the mouth of the Choptank River and paused at Trippe Bay. Here? she suggested. Too shallow, I said, and a lee shore at that. Her finger moved farther south to Hills Point.
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