Piankatank River anchored between Stampers Wharf and Berkley Island
 
37 31 N
076 26 W
 
I stole these first two paragraphs from another email written to a smaller group earlier.  Sorry about that to members of that smaller group.  Stealing, even from oneself, is easier than being creative some mornings.
 
There is an energy about us this day drawn from an excitement lingering in the air like the smoky richness of a fireplace scent borne on the first crisp breeze of fall.  We leave our many new friends of the Mathews Yacht Club this morning.
 
We have been here for five days hiding out from the big “O”, a hurricane, and also to speak at “Club Night” to the members of the yacht club, many of whom are now considered friends and all of them most gracious hosts, most gracious indeed. 
 
Once again we are tucked into a protected area, this time kind of being lazy, defragging our mental hard drives from the busy few days at the yacht club and perhaps also hiding a little from the 15-20 kt winds forecasted for this afternoon.
 
Before we made our way to Mathews we spent a couple of absolutely delightful days in the small picturesque harbor town of Urbanna, VA up the Rappahanock River.
 
According to the Rivah, a Southern Virginia tourist rag, Urbanna is one of the oldest English settlements in the new world with a unique and prosperous port history dating three hundred and fifty years.   The small trading port of Urbanna three centuries ago commonly received ships from such exciting origins as London, Liverpool, Glasgow and Bristol, off-loading goods and wares in exchange for tobacco.  The two block long road up the bluff from town that runs by the tobacco drying shed to the wharfs was cut down to give a fair and even slope on which to roll the “hogs heads” or barrels packed tight with the dried, rich, Virginia tobacco leaf grown throughout the area.  Our America of today rode the commodities of yesterday which provided the wealth that brought and bought influence for the colonies’ plantation owners, inviting the Crown’s heavy handed taxation, eventually leading to revolt and independence.
 
Throughout the area are homes and families dating back to the 1700’s and stories of commerce and the wars both Revolutionary and Civil remain a scratchy part of history’s tapestry even today.  One of the more widely local legends is said to have occurred during the bombardment of the town in 1862 by a number of Yankee warships.  During the bombardment some of the townsfolk left their homes and businesses in town and gathered on the creek bank next to Urbanna.  Old man Montague stood at the top of a hill and whenever he saw a flash of a cannon firing would scream “squat” and the townsfolk would squat down on the ground.  It was reported the only thing the “Damn Yankees” killed was an old rabbit.  Apparently one of the cannonballs did hit the courthouse, however.
 
Like many towns in this area good folks with a few small shops remain while the village elders search for ways to bring in new trade.  Urbanna like other locations is attempting to tap into tourism.  Unfortunately, a profitable change to tourism too often leaves a plastic shell of what use to be that becomes scratched, abused, cracked then broken until, finally, the town is  no more than a forgotten caricature of itself.  We hope that doesn’t happen to Urbanna.  It is simply too precious to lose.
 
Our Urbanna anchorage brought new friends in Don & Jean Saballus, of Evanston, IL who favored us with their delightful company and seduced us with tales of their adventures on the sailing vessel Falconer.  There are times when you meet people while cruising and everything just clicks into place and suddenly you find a near kindred spirit that is exactly opposite of you, yet the same.  It’s like the bumps of their being, their personality, fits the dents in yours, not unlike a key in a lock.  They will be attending Trawlerfest and we look forward to sharing with them again. 
 
The days are warm and the evenings just right.  Except for the heavier breeze scheduled in this afternoon, life is a seriously guilty pleasure aboard Skinwalker.
 
Oh. Yes. Ok.  I will only nudge you once so pay attention. 
 
Do you have your Christmas shopping done?
 
Ho, ho, ho to you too, from the pilothouse.

Capt'n Lynnie and Skinwalker