4th annual rockfish tournament at Lowes Wharf

•September 15, 2014 • Leave a Comment

The Lowes Wharf 4th Annual Rockfish Tournament, Pig Roast and Crab Feast was held on Sunday September 14th. It was a benefit for the University of Maryland Shore Regional Health Cancer Center and was sponsored by Preston Automotive Group.

Thanks to our hosts, Bruce and Barbara Boyd, for making it happen. Our boat won 2nd place with an 8.67 lb 31 inch rockfish, brought in by Kevin just near the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. Turns out the winning rockfish was caught just minutes from Lowes Wharf.

A great group of people, and a super fun day. Thanks to all – the Boyds, Kevin, Captain JC Kinnamon, Tim and Mo McHugh and First Mate Eric Werner.

Great fishing charter off Tilghman Island

•September 14, 2014 • 1 Comment

Thinking about fishing on the #ChesBay?

Meet JC Kinnamon, who comes from a long line of Tilghman Island watermen – he’s terrific and awesome and his boat – High Hopes II – is top-notch. I’ve been out on it at least five times now, and highly recommend JC and his First Mate, Eric Werner.

They find the fish, wherever they are.

More later on today’s fun rockfish tournament (2nd place!) but for now, this is just about JC (with a quick thanks to our captain, crew, Bruce and Barb!)

Here’s JC’s public/professional face:

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Here he is after his inevitable success:

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horsefly o’clock

•September 11, 2014 • 1 Comment

AARGH! The curse that follows our good fortune, living in this Chesapeake paradise. Horseflies in September, right after the jellyfish/nettles.

horsefly

 

Yuck squared.

Yet…hmm…if you think about it, they appear at exactly the same time as the local crop dusters – and act the exact same way!

Out of nowhere, last Tuesday, there they were dive-bombing, screaming, shooting, careening, but not really – they’re excellent pilots. Open your car door and boom! Bam! Buzz! Slam-slam-slam! God, what a ruckus! Get out, already!

Sometimes, you arrive somewhere, and – BAM-ZIP-SLAP-THUNK they’re diving at you, in the doors of your porch, your house, boom-bam-slap – suicidal? maniacal?

And when they bite! Ach! Nasty little buggers. I’m quite sure they have big, spiky, probably filthy teeth.

But, hey. We live in an awesome cool place, right?

Let it go.

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzz

“wetlands are not terra firma”….Maryland, are you listening?

•September 9, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Fabulous piece in the NYTimes about Louisiana losing its boot, and the changing authority of maps in 2014.

I had to share with you – Click here for the excellent story.

Louisiana

 

bat o’clock

•September 4, 2014 • 2 Comments

For the past 24 years at the cabin on Fishing Creek, we’d make note of bat o’clock – the time just before dusk, when the bats come out over the creek by the dozens, flitting, flipping, zooming, circling, diving, feeding. We used to take folding lawn chairs out to the side yard, where we would lay flat and just watch the night fall, bats rising from the creek, zooming all around. Sometimes – ooh! you’d feel them whoosh just by your face. It never felt creepy, only cool.

Today, the airspace is filled with tree canopy, but if you walk down the rocks to the swimming access in front of the cabin, you can see/feel/smell it like it always was, and the bats still start zooming at, oh, around….early dusk, otherwise known as…bat o’clock.

The cabin is as steady and delicious as it ever was, and this time of year, the shagbark hickory leaves are starting to fall – big and broad, they know how to shade. And when the rain slaps those big leaves, with the constant sound of the moving creek beyond…zzzzzzzz. Nap-ville at the cabin on Fishing Creek.

Roadside memorial

•September 3, 2014 • Leave a Comment

The long two-lane road that goes from Easton all the way to Tilghman Island is called Rt 33, or the St. Michaels Road, and it’s the only way in and out of Bay Hundred. That road received some special attention from the state recently – meaning slowdowns, one way traffic, cones and highway workers for a couple of weeks. They put an entire new surface on Rt. 33 and it’s quite nice.

But not so much, when we consider the 40 year old father, working highway contractor who was controlling traffic when he was hit by a car and killed on August 21st right in front of Martingham outside of St. Michaels.

We all sat in those lines of traffic for weeks, and waved to those guys. “Which one was he?” I wonder? He was only 40 – a dad, who lived in Denton. I even searched on the internet for a memorial or obit photo but there was none. It mattered to me, to know which one of the workers he was. I’m certain his eyes met mine at least a dozen times during those road construction weeks, as they’d wave traffic through, and I’d wave my hello and appreciation, every time. It felt like we knew them and they knew us – we were all involved in that job together.

Both Kevin and I had to turn around and come home on the afternoon of the accident. Once it happened, the road was closed for hours. Everyone feels horrible when these things happen – in our little rural area, with a limited population over that long skinny peninsula, when there’s  a bad accident, it rings extra heavy and dark. The person who hit him was a man, 84 years old. He probably wasn’t texting, like half the people on that road seem to be doing. As a child of two still-driving parents in their 80s, my heart lurches at the thought of what probably happened there. Ach…

I’m glad someone put up a memorial at the edge of the woods – you can see his boots are there too. It’s more than sobering to see, so powerful.

Farewell, John Kenneth Shahan. Thank you for your service. May your family be surrounded by love and support. May everyone who drives by here be reminded to slow down and focus on the road. And may our 84 year old neighbor who hit you find some kind of peace. Everyone lost here. Deep sadness.

memoral to john kenneth shahan

FIVE golden retrievers?

•September 2, 2014 • 1 Comment

Yes.

Alice, this one’s for you. If the prospect of two lab puppies seems daunting, consider the energy in the St. Michaels household of Erin Colomb Henson and her five golden retrievers.

That’s 20 muddy dog feet. Whoa.

erin and her five goldens

 
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