Our last evening in our perfect little anchorage on the Corrotoman River (make sure to pronounce it co-ro-TO-man and god knows not co-ROT-o-man because every local will aggressively correct you as both Stephanie and Doug found out!!) was spent over at September Song having unbelievable Mexican food courtesy of Bob. Who knew he was such a culinary maestro??? We had festive Mexican apps out on the bow while the boys had margaritas and Stephanie and I had our own concoctions - hers was more creative as she had just seen it on the food network the night before, but mine hit the spot too!!
The next morning after a beautiful sunrise over our anchorage
Mr. Parks offered to take us on a tour of the island in his golf cart which Doug wisely realized probably wouldn't be the smartest thing in the world if he was to keep me out of jail, so instead the September Song and Gypsies crew set off by foot to explore the island. But before I get there, once I had time to really look around the little harbor (instead of worrying about dodging boats or running aground or strangling Mr. Parks), the beauty of the place hit me. It is very much an old fishing village with worn crab and fishing boats named after mothers, wives and sweethearts along one side of the channel tied off to white, wooden pilings
We set off into "town" and it was like stepping back in time - to a life simpler than that which most of us know. At the first bend we purchased a hand-written map of the island for $1 - it came complete with island factoids and local recipes!!
Lots of history on this island has been lost due to one storm or another as buildings are washed away or ruined and then torn down, but there are plenty of plaques throughout town which give you a sense of what has been lost - one even commemorates the spot where the town sheriff shot a Parks boy for not being in church on Sunday morning even though he claimed to be getting ice cream for his invalid mother (although he recovered from his wounds, several years later the sheriff was shot and the perpetrator never found...perhaps someone named Parks, or Crockett, or Pruitt???) Other plaques told us of wharves that had washed away (where in 1919 President Woodrow Wilson and his wife had visited), stores that had been moved three or four times to find dry land (usually run by a Park, Crockett, Pruitt or an occasional Dise) or homes of "famous" Tangier residents (again usually named Parks, Crockett or Pruitt - seeing a pattern here??? guess what, it still exists here).
As we walked towards the South side of the island which is the low lying area, you see how islanders protect themselves to a degree from the encroaching waters with houses raised on cement and stilts, wooden walkways over front yards and elevated wooden platforms for their golf carts.
As we followed the marsh around the island, we saw beautiful white egrets
After our trip around the island, we headed back to Gypsies for an afternoon cocktail before heading to the Channel Marker restaurant for dinner - they had told Bob they would stay open until 5:30 pm for us but not a second later!!!
We woke to a beautiful sunrise
Click here to see our Tangier Island location.
Happy Birthday, Dee Dee!!!
1 day ago