Journal Entry 13 — Eastern Shore of Virginia
Dates: July 24 – July 31
Weather: Hot, Humid, Occasional Thunderstorms
Wind: Mostly calm behind the barrier islands along Virginia’s Eastern Shore
Tide: Ebb and Flood – 1 to 1.5 knot currents
The kayaks slipped quietly through the salt water of the Tunnels Island marsh. Turning left, right, then back in a horseshoe, the tidal creek we were exploring meander aimlessly, a maze flowing through the marsh. Each turn opened on a meadow of green salt grass. Moisture rose from the grass making the air heavy with a slight haze and rich with the organic smell of the marsh.
To the northeast, perched above the edge of the marsh on stilts, the white buildings of Saxis, VA, referenced the end of the maze. The haze and stillness of the morning gave the marsh and buildings the appearance of a pastel painting by the Delaware artist Scott Cameron.
David Burden, the Owner of Southeast Expeditions, Bill, an outdoor writer, and I paddled our kayaks toward the town docks. Saxis is located on the south side of Pocomoc Sound very near where the Sound meets the Chesapeake Bay. The state line separating Virginia and Maryland runs down the middle of Pocomoc Sound. I could see Maryland just across the Sound.
I had been paddling with David for several days. This was the last section of the Eastern Shore of Virginia we would paddle together. David would head back to running eco-tours. I would take the weekend off for a family reunion in North Carolina then get back to the Delmarva Odyssey and rowing in the Adirondack Guide Boat along the Eastern Shore of Maryland. The last several days traveling with David by kayak had given me a break from rowing, some welcome company, and a chance to see where I was going rather than where I had been. We explored the coast of the Virginia’s Eastern Shore along the Chesapeake Bay.
Bill is a freelance travel writer. His love and knowledge of the outdoors enhances the articles he writes. When not writing, Bill works for David as a guide, working out of Onancock, Virginia. As we explored the tidal creeks, Bill described the local history as well as the natural resources of the southern Chesapeake Bay. His passion and enthusiasm were infectious, as he shared anecdotes and his knowledge of the Bay, its towns and its people.
The residents of the Eastern Shore of Virginia have divided the Peninsula into two halves: the Ocean Side and the Bay Side. The halves are roughly separated by Route 13 which runs down the spine. Both sides are sparsely populated.
The sandy soils of the central portion of the Peninsula are dominated by agriculture. In addition to corn and soybeans acres of tomatoes extend on either side of Route 13. Each tomato is planted along with a three foot wooden stake. Early in the season, the wooden stakes extend across the fields in even rows. Standing straight they resemble a forest of sapling trees, stripped of bark, leaves and branches.
The southern Peninsula also supports a large number of ornamental nursery operations. Many of the trees and ornamental plants found in the suburbs to the north started life here on the southern Peninsula. In winter much of the nursery stock is covered by plastic stretched across metal hoops. These temporary greenhouses resemble long half pipes. In summer the plastic is removed, the bare metal ribs exposed, and the plants left to mature in the mild wet climate.
Route 13 is the major north/south route on the Peninsula. Before the US Interstate system was fully developed, Route 13 was the preferred road to Florida and points south. Prior to development of Interstate 95, the southern Peninsula along Route 13 was filled with hotels and motels. Interstate 95, along with commercial air travel, has significantly decreased the number of travelers on Route 13. Many of the old motels still exist, their once prominent features are now decayed with age and minimal use.
I had been paddling with David for several days. After meeting in Cape Charles, David offered to join me as I explored the eastern shore of Virginia. I gladly accepted his offer. We started out together in Cape Charles and headed north. At first, I found the kayak very uncomfortable. It seemed very inefficient to paddle without using the legs. Eventually, I got the hang of it and began to sit back, relax, and enjoy the natural beauty of the unspoiled marshes.
As we traveled north, David pointed out the various fish and wildlife. Bull Winged rays, with wing spans of up to 5 feet occasionally cruised in the shallow water beneath the kayaks. The rays eat small oyster and clams. The are a significant problem for the oyster and clam fisheries. To protect the stock of young oysters and clams, commercial fisherman will stretch mesh nets over the shellfish beds. The nets prevent the rays from digging into the shellfish and destroying the stocks.
Two other constant companions along the way were the pelicans, who could be found perched above the traps of the weir fishing nets, and the ever present ospreys, seen perched in pairs in their nests of wooden sticks, on pilings, piers, light towers, and just about anything that stood ten feet above the water. The ospreys would swoop and spiral, high above the water, hover for a minute or two, spot a fish in the shallow bay water, fold their wing and drop like a ball, with a splash into the bay. Disappearing below the surface for an instant, they would re-emerge, spread their wings and take off into the sky, a fish grasped firmly between their talons.
One sleepy morning, we put our kayaks in the water at the town dock at Onancock, VA. Onancock is an historic town located well inland from the bay, up the Onancock River. Bordering the upper reaches of the river are lovely seventeenth and eighteenth century homes. The town was established in 1680 by the Virginia Assembly. Its name “Onancock” is Indian in origin. It has been translated to mean “foggy place”.
With a mist over the water, you can almost imagine the town on an early morning in November 1782, when Colonel John Cropper set sail against the British in what became the last battle of the American Revolution. Unknown to Colonel Cropper and his men, the British had surrendered at Yorktown almost a year before and the Articles of Peace were being signed in Europe the same day, November 30, 1782, that they engaged the British above Smith Island. Today we take telephones, computers and instant communication for granted. Information traveled slowly in the 1700’s even to towns that were designated as ports and trading locations.
The southern tip of the Chesapeake, near Cape Charles, is developing very rapidly into a tourist destination. Large destination resorts are growing along the Bay. Golf communities and retirement communities are being developed. The sleepy life of these areas is beginning to change. But, north of Cape Charles along the Virginia and Maryland coasts, use of the Chesapeake is still largely focused on commercial fishing.
The fisheries include deep water operations, like the menhaden fisheries, as well as the coastal shellfish fisheries. These are primarily crab, oysters and clams. In each of the small towns along the Bay, commercial fishing boats and houses can be found. They include shucking and packing houses as well as processing plants for soft shell crabs.
The soft shell crab fishery is unique. I had the chance to talk with Bill, a soft shell crab fisherman, his wife, Ellen and his grandson, Cody. Bill and Ellen had taken the soft shell fishing operation over from Bill’s father, who had built the house on stilts and long shallow wooden troughs out over the waters of the marsh, some 40 or 50 years ago.
The operation is fairly simple. Bill takes his boat out into the beds of eel grass, sets his crab traps. The crabs enter the traps to eat the fish Bill has placed inside as bait. The next day Bill goes back, picks up the trap and dumps the crabs into bushel baskets on his boat, sorting the crabs that are about to molt their hard shells into one basket, and those that aren’t into another basket. The molting crabs, sometimes called busters or peelers, are then placed in the long wooden troughs back at the crab shack. Water is continuously pumped from the bay and allowed to run through the troughs. The peelers stay in the trough until they shed their shell. The crab emerges from the hard shell with a soft body. In the wild, the crab will take several hours to begin to harden up again.
Ellen checks the crabs each day. As they shed, she collects the soft crabs, packs them away for shipment and places them in a cooler. The crabs are shipped to the fish companies who sell them into the restaurant market. Bill and Ellen can sell a hard shell crab for about ten cents each. But a prime soft shell sells for about two dollars each. The market for soft shells is good, but it takes a lot of extra work to maintain the wooden troughs, manage and tend to the crabs, and carefully package the soft shell crabs for transportation to the market.
Bill’s grandson Cody is around 12 years old. I asked Cody if he wanted to follow in his grandfathers footsteps and become a commercial crabber on the Chesapeake. NOPE! I want to be a computer guy.
So it goes. The life of the waterman is hard. The rewards for a days fishing have declined over the years. Bill blames the significant decline in the number of crabs on the loss of the eel grass beds that used to spread for acres across the bottom of the Bay. The beds provided significant cover and food for the crabs, protecting them as they prepared to shed their shell and molt. “Twenty years ago, you could get 20 or 30 bushels of crabs a day from this area. Today, you might get three or four”.
I stopped the car as I drove away from Bill and Ellen’s soft shell crab operation. Looking back down the dirt road that ran through the marsh of salt grass and black needle rush, I could see the weather beaten top of their crab shack and the stilted troughs of flowing salt water where the crabs were kept to molt. The sun slanted through the afternoon haze of the marsh. It reflected golden from the browning grasses. Today, I would be the last person to leave this place. It was still and except for an occasional bird cry, quite. I thought about Bill and Ellen, their years of work together. I thought about the changing Bay. I wondered what this place might be like when, sometime in future, Cody came back to reminisce about his childhood.