As we leave Norfolk, we see docked Navy ships, all dull gray in color. (This shade of gray is the least visible under all light conditions.) There are miles of nuclear submarines, aircraft carriers, destroyers, and amphibious troop transporters. We also see commercial vessels: a huge cement barge and a container ship being loaded.
It's cloudy, rainy and the wind is blowing off the quarter at 15-20 knots. Otis (the electronic autopilot), overwhelmed by the swells, steers badly and is relieved of duty. Monty (the windvane pilot) takes over and works hard to steer. Our spirits are low and we wonder if travelling today was such a good idea. Just about then a pod of dolphins surfaces, and soon they are taking turns swimming in our bow wave. We're making about 7 knots under sail alone, and we're pushing a small wave of water in front of us. In this wave, the dolphins like to rest, one on either side of the bow. While there, they turn sideways to look up at us on the bow looking at them. Kristina and Luke squeal with delight.
We're tired when we arrive in Yorktown. It's been a long trip by water, since we had to round a penninsula, but by land we could've done it in 20 minutes! We anchor just off the marina, in about 8 ft of water. The folks at the marina are extremely nice, and we decide to purhase fuel here. We take on 80 gallons, plus probably about 100 gallons of water (of course, we had to weigh anchor for this). We discover that there's a pool and showers, and, when we ask about using the facilities, everyone says, "Well, it shouldn't be a problem." So, with swimming suits in hand, we walk up to the lifeguard and tell her that the dockmaster told us that it "shouldn't be a problem" to use the pool, and she lets us in. (What would she do - say no to two excited children?)
The restaurant at the marina has an excellent reputation and we eat a late lunch, which was delicious and wonderfully presented, but a bit pricey for our budget. We go back later for coffee and dessert (key lime pie, chocolate cheesecake).
We meet Eric and Suzanne, from "St. Somewhere" 
whose home port is Huntsville, AL. St. Somewhere is a 32-foot Pacific Seacraft pilothouse sloop. Eric and Suzanne kept their boat in Huntsville, then moved aboard and took her down the TennTom waterway to Mobile, where they hauled out, put the boat on a truck, and went to Maine. From there, they sailed down to the Bahamas (for the winter) and are now headed back north to Maine, where they wish to spend the winter(!).
Eric and Suzanne are great company. Eric likes Harry Potter books, so Kristina loans him book 3. Eric teaches Luke his grandpa's fishing chant: "Go down danger, pick up stranger." Luke now chants this whenever he drops the hook into the water.
Our next destination is Deltaville; it's a reach up the Chesapeake before the wind goes light and we motor. We enter at Jackson Creek, and we discover the three French boats which also shared our anchorage in Norfolk. Transiting Jackson Creek, it's best to leave the green markers about a line's throw away as the channel is narrow and shallows quickly toward land. In Deltaville, we call a grocery store and they send a courtesy car. We all (Eric, Suzanne, Angie, Adrian, Kristina and Luke) pile into a big Ford Lincoln Town Car and go to the local "supermarket." The next day, we leave Deltaville for Reedville.
We motorsail the next day to Reedville, which boasts an easy entrance, a Fisherman's Museum and a big menhaden plant. You can smell the menhaden plant from quite some distance if the wind is right (or wrong, depending on your preference.) At the fisherman's museum, we learned how many items (perfumes, dog and cat food) contain menhaden. Menhaden are not desired by sportfishers, but are commercially valuable. Menhaden swim in huge schools that can be found by spotter planes. These schools are then encircled by a giant net, which is draw up tight; the fish are then pulled into a trawler and transported to the processing plant for "pressing."
Entering Reedville, we're beset by a thunderstorm, packing winds of up to 40 knots. We saw it coming and ran for shelter in a small cove. We were just letting the anchor down when the wind hit and we hurriedly let out scope until the anchor bit, then sat down to wait the storm out.
After the storm, we headed to the anchorage. The holding ground wasn't good, and we tried taking the advice of a local and headed deeper into one of the side creeks. The holding ground didn't improve and the swing room was poor, so we headed back to our original spot and dropped the Bruce instead of the CQR. The Bruce grabbed immediately and held firm. Still, we spent close to an hour trying to pick a spot and get the anchor to hold. Eric and Suzanne dinghy over, pick us up, and take us to the museum (where we learn all about menhaden). Afterwards, we buy steamed crabs and side dishes right from the crabhouse, and leisurely picnic by the water's edge and shaded by trees. Kristina and Luke develop into excellent crab pickers!
The trip to Solomons is a long one, and involves passing the Potomac. The water where the Potomac and the Chesapeake join can be very choppy, and it is. We have the wind on the nose, and motorsail into the chop. Spray flies everywhere and people start talking about skipping lunch. Adrian digs out the ginger snaps and things settle down a bit.
By the time we reach Solomons the wind has died to a dead calm. We power in, drop the hook, and launch the dinghy. There's still enough time left to go to town. We hitch a ride with Eric and Suzanne, and eat pizza at Jerry's. It has been a long time since we've had pizza! Onboard, the entire deck is covered with salt crystals.
Eric and Suzanne have committments in Annapolis, and leave the next day (Friday the 13th). We linger in Solomons to visit the Calvert Maritime Museum. Solomons is close to the famous Calvert Cliffs, home to countless ancient fossils. We had sailed past the large white cliffs on the way in, and we learned that areas are actively being explored. One can stand and watch paleontologists in the museum cleaning the fossils from these digs.
One of the major exhibits at the museum is the "screwpile" lighthouse (see photo, left) that had marked Drum Point. The woman who donated the funds to move the lighthouse to the museum had actually been born in it. (Her mother was hoisted into the lighthouse during her seventh month of pregnancy.) Her grandparents, and then her parents, were the lighthouse keepers, and she grew up there. The lighthouse was eventually made obsolete by electric lights, and the place was basically abandoned. However, as the girl grew up to be a wealthy and influential lady, she lamented the state of disrepair which her birthplace was assuming. A bridge was built from Solomon's Island across the Patuxtent, and she saw her chance. She got the bridge crew to cut the house from its screwpiles and move it - in a big sling - to the museum. The work crew donated their time to do the work, and now the lighthouse is a museum centerpiece.
We depart Solomons on Sunday morning and head for Annapolis. It's a long trip, so we leave at 6am. We arrive around 2pm in Mill Creek, which is not actually IN Annapolis but just east of the Naval Academy, but we don't want to enter Annapolis Harbor during the weekend. (It's like rush hour on a weekday.) The skipper takes a nap, and we later rendezvous with Eric and Suzanne for dinner (aboard their boat - they left their mooring in Annapolis and joined us in Mill Creek around 7pm).
We go from Mill Creek into Annapolis Harbor the next day, and pick up a mooring. From here, it's an easy row into the middle of town. "Ego Alley," named for the big egos which parade up and down in their boats, cuts right into town, with a turning basin and dinghy dock at the end. During the week, it's fairly nice - not too many egos around, and in easy reach of shops and restaurants, but, over the weekend, it will probably become a zoo again, so we'll plan to move on before then.
However, since our anchorage is directly off the Naval Academy grounds, we are awakened every morning at 6am when the Marines do calisthenics. A taped bugle blares, the PT leader shouts "ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR,. . .." "MOVE IT!" "RUN IN PLACE NOW!" "LIFT THOSE KNEES" and the rest sing "WE'RE THE UNITED STATES MARINES . . ." They must eat their Wheaties.
Our refrigerator packs up during our first night on the mooring. We have to fix it in a hurry or lose our perishable food. We are extremely fortunate on two fronts: Eric has had the same problem with his almost-identical fridge, and there are oodles of marine parts places in Annapolis. Of all the places to have a mechanical breakdown on a boat, Annapolis is arguably the very best (at least on the East Coast). With Eric's recent experience to help diagnose the problem, and with the part (an overpriced control module) we need right in town, we have the fridge up and running by the late afternoon.