In 1789, Congress hotly debated whether the Nation’s Capital should be on the Susquehanna River at Havre de Grace, Maryland, or on the Potomac River at Washington. After a tied vote, the Speaker of the House voted for Washington, which Maryland and Virginia then ceded to the federal government. But for that one vote, the Harbor of Grace now would be a cesspool of political buffoonery and absurd traffic rather than the sleepy little town we reached during an unexpected weather window today.
There’s one marina at HdG—as it is known to the locals—that can handle Misty Pearl’s five-foot draft. We approached with the expectation of a nice broad fairway leading to an easily accessible slip. Instead, we had to maneuver our 16-foot beam through what felt like a 14-foot entrance. The placid appearance concealed a current that shouldn’t have been an issue but was.
The dockhands followed protocol, however, and assured us that we did an excellent job riding the thrusters all the way in. The handbook also required them each to add “I’ve seen much worse” without laughing, so as to maximize the tip. But hey, we tied up neatly and there are no insurance claims.
The two restaurants were good and we picked up kettle corn and local wine at the First Friday street fair, but we still hope to make it to Delaware City tomorrow. If not, we may have docktails with Ron and Debbie Hartwell (Bucket List) and the folks flying the Looper burgee on the Carver 430 right behind us.