Sandbank

One of the first places Johnny Pugh took me on our excursion last week was the site of the former Sandbank Wharf which lies at the end of Route 602.

There's not much left of it thanks to a series of storms, including the hurricane of 1933.  Referencing that storm, the book History and Progress, Mathews County, Virginia, compiled by the Mathews Historical Society, says "Practically all wharfs and steamboat landings in the county were either badly damaged or entirely wrecked, and the loss to oil companies with distributing stations on the waterfront was severe."

Johnny provided several photos of Sandbank back in its heyday for use in my book.  Chances are good I'll be able to use them, assuming they meet the publisher's specifications (mainly for size - the quality of the photos is excellent), but for some odd reason they will not upload to this blog post. I was really hoping to provide a glimpse of what this wharf looked like back in the day.

(I get a "server rejected" error if anyone still awake reading troubleshoots these things.)

If I weren't so tired from all the running around today, I'd figure it all out.  And by that I mean I'd have Chesapeake Bay Son help me. And when I say help me I mean I'd walk away and let him figure it out because I lack the required patience.

But he's asleep after a very long soccer game played on a field so long it spanned from Williamsburg to Toano in temperatures and winds rivaling the Arctic tundra.

Although not much remains of Sandbank, I still find the place hauntingly beautiful.

A few questions for this fine Wednesday:

1.  If you are from this area, what do you know about Sandbank and/or the storm of 1933?
2.  Is there anything more soothing than blue skies, blue water and white sand? If so, please let me know whether a passport is required and how soon I can come for a visit.
3.  How is it possible that a person who once wrote college term papers in three different languages cannot figure something out that her teenaged son would intuitively know and fix in a matter of seconds, all the while chuckling under his breath at his mother's ineptitude?
4. What tips do you have for mothers who obviously have never attended night soccer games in Siberia cold, far away places?  Evidently blankets are standard and folding chairs are not.  All those years of Saturday morning YMCA soccer games did nothing to prepare me for high school sports.
5.  Have a wonderful Wednesday.