Scenes from Queens Creek

Sunrise on Queens Creek

Sunset on Queens Creek
(The Islander is in the background.)

Have a fantastic weekend.



p.s. Sunday is Middle Sister's birthday.  We won't get to see her, but we wish her a very happy day.

Queens Creek

Looking towards the mouth of Queens Creek.  Islander and Gwynns Island in the distance.

I took these the other evening from my back yard as the sun was going down.

The reflections, particularly of the clouds in the water, were spectacular.

The colors, mainly pink and purple, were interesting and a little unusual.

There's no place like home.

Have a great weekend.

Hills Bay

Near the mouth of Queens Creek. Gwynns Island to the right.

The Islander in the background.

The Islander and the Gwynns Island bridge.
(You have to pull out a magnifying glass to see the bridge though.)

Calm waters, calm skies

Because I started to twitch, flinch, and convulse at the prospect of not posting for two days in a row, I decided to peruse older pictures to see if there were some I'd forgotten about.

These were taken back in October near the mouth of Queens Creek.

Today--after I take my daughter to the doctor to see if she has a broken arm--I hope to take some new pictures. Yes, I said broken arm.

Friday night's basketball game against Lancaster was scrappy and tough. She took a very hard spill that caused me to cringe when I heard the smack on the floor. Then someone fell on top of her. This is when it takes everything in a mother's power to keep from going insane out on the court to make sure everything's OK.

But I knew I couldn't do that.

Afterwards I asked her how she felt. Fine, she said. The next day, though, she had one heckuva floor burn on her forearm.

Monday night she played another scrappy game against Northumberland but didn't complain about her arm.

Tuesday when I picked her up from practice she was grimacing.  Her arm was throbbing, she said. When I asked to look at it, I did not like what I saw.  Swelling and puffy weirdness.

("Puffy weirdness" is a technical term that only the most specialized of medical practitioners comprehend. It's also quite the fodder for the Comments section.)

My immediate reaction, which was kept to myself, was a saying I heard often growing up in Mathews:  "I don't know much, but I know that ain't right."

We'll know more after we visit our wonderful Dr. K.--who so graciously squeezed us in first thing this morning after receiving my frantic email and text.

Hope your week is going well, injury free, and full of calm waters and calm skies.

Scenes from Queens Creek

All of these were taken at various points in time from the comfort of my back yard.

Today might be my favorite day of 2012 thus far, because as of this evening I will be on vacation/off work until Monday, July 16th! I know! Well over a week.

We're contemplating making the trek to Yorktown tomorrow evening to see the fireworks, since the Mathews fireworks won't happen until this weekend.

I gave up trying to understand why anyone would have 4th of July fireworks on any day other than July 4th, but I am sure there are good reasons.  Just not very obvious ones.

Anyway, this time of year always reminds me of the very best place in the world to watch fireworks, which was perched inside a boat near the mouth of the very creek in today's photos: Queens Creek.  Back in the 1970s and '80s, the Islander fireworks were legendary. I really miss those days.

But I'm not complaining.  Because I don't have to go back to work until July 16th!

Are you doing anything for July 4th?

Yacht Club

At the end of Route 696 along the banks of Stutts Creek in Redart is a place called the Yacht Club.

(Even though that sign clearly states Mathews Yacht Club, we call it the Yacht Club. Since we're standing in Mathews and there's only one yacht club, we feel it is a bit ridiculous to call it the Mathews Yacht Club.  Well, maybe I'm the only one who has ever reflected on this topic before, but I know what I know, and that is I've never once heard anyone call it the Mathews Yacht Club even if it is clearly documented on this and other signs on the property. 

Now, for all I know, the members congregate every week and sing an anthem whose chorus repeats "Mathews Yacht Club" over and over again.

Still, it's just the Yacht Club to us Regular Folk.

Who here is ready to stampede out of this blog if CBW doesn't move along and stop obsessing over this irrelevant background information?

CB Mother, put your hand down.)

Most of the people I grew up with have been to the Yacht Club at least once whether they were members or not--and most of them weren't.

The building above, in addition to holding regular events for members, is often rented out for wedding receptions, class reunions, anniversaries, and other special occasions. My tenth high school reunion was here, and I believe that was the first time I'd ever been inside the clubhouse.

The immediate Chesapeake Bay Family was not exactly known to run in the Yacht Club-type circles, which is perhaps best exemplified by our recent Thanksgiving celebration at the Golden Corral. Not that there's anything wrong with that.  Still, that's probably not something you'd want to put on your application for membership at the Yacht Club.

But I digress.

My paternal grandparents may have had some involvement with the Yacht Club, I don't recall. CB Mother perhaps can fill in those gaps.

The bottom line is the Yacht Club doesn't just let Any Old Body join, and if memory serves there used to be lots of old bodies quite the waiting list for people interested in joining.

Full-fledged Yacht Club members are able to take advantage of the marina, the bar/dining area, and the swimming pool. They're also able to use terms like "Rear Commodore" without batting an eye or stifling a snicker.

That last sentence is Reason # 56 that Chesapeake Bay Woman would never be allowed in as a member of the Yacht Club, right after Reason # 55, which covers her defensive basketball/boxing out moves around the mashed potato tray at the Golden Corral on Thanksgiving.

The swimming pool.

Back when I was coming along, two places offered summer pool memberships:  the Islander and the Yacht Club.  Presumably the Yacht Club was for members only.

The Chesapeake Bay Family went to the Islander, a heavenly paradise that had to be experienced to be fully understood.

Occasionally, though, I'd come to the Yacht Club as someone's guest and will always associate this pool with one thing and one thing only:  salt water.

Of course the salt water was treated, but if you happened to lick your lips or whatever while swimming there was no mistaking the salt. That always struck me as odd, perhaps because nothing but salt water surrounds Mathews County and the very last thing I'd expect to taste when jumping into a swimming pool is salt.  That salt water, which tasted just like the creek, caused me to instinctively worry about things like stinging nettles and crabs. And eels.  We have eels in our creek.

I don't think I ever found any, of course, but the association detracted from my ability to fully relax, that's for sure.

Back in the early 2000s, the Chesapeake Bay Children took swimming lessons here.  I'll never forget the instructor telling me that Daughter should try out for a swim team.  She was about five at the time. Mathews doesn't have a swim team, though.

Nor a dive team, which was what I was practicing for over on the Islander's diving board during the summers of my teen years. I could do a one and a half, a half gainor, back dives, back flips--Lord I loved going off that diving board.

Once again, I digress.

Out back there is a small marina.

Note the sign that says MYC.

Thanks to my recent illness, which allowed me nothing but chicken broth and crackers for the past 48 hours, my brain evidently has turned into cracker meal automatically launches into the Mickey Mouse Club song:

M-Y-C....See ya real soon!

K-E-Y...Why?  Cuz we like you!

Em Oh You Ess Eeeee.

The above is reason # 88 that CBW will never be considered for membership to this or any other club. Although she may have a decent shot at the Mickey Mouse Club, if she were interested.

Stutts Creek

For the history of the Mathews Yacht Club, click here.

Three Things

Sunset from the Islander, 2010

Welcome to the day of the week known as Three Thing Thursday, where we share tres cosas, three things.  Of course, tres/three is only a suggestion.  I've never been a fan of arbitrary rules, and three is a rather arbitrary number.  So if you feel like sharing one thing, please do so.  If you feel like sharing ten things, have at it.

Let's stop worrying about numbers and begin.

1.  These pictures were taken back when I used to actually take photographs of Mathews County and not my crazy family or scenes from the front seat of a moving automobile the back yard.  But as I've mentioned ad nauseam, I haven't had any time to go on one of my infamous local adventures, so old pictures will have to suffice for the time being.

2.  I saw four white ducks swimming in a ditch beside Route 198/Buckley Hall Road coming home from work today.  For those unfamiliar with Mathews County, we don't typically see ducks swimming in roadside ditches around here.  Herons hunting frogs or whatever they hunt are a familiar scene in our ditches.  But ducks?  Not ever usually.

3a. I appreciate everyone who gave me suggestions in yesterday's post regarding my computer quandary. Please keep them coming, because it will be a while before I can make the trek to Best Buy or wherever to get anything. But I do sincerely thank you for your input.

3b.  If you have a chance, click here for my mother's blog post about the climb to the top of the Hatteras lighthouse last week. Also click here for my neighbor's account of our recent boat ride up and down Queens Creek.

Now it's your turn to share three things. Or four things.  Five things.  Or more things.   


Whatever you want.

Happy Birthday

In honor of our country's birthday, which also happens to be my cousin Mary's birthday, I thought I'd post a few flag photos.  These were taken on a leisurely boat ride on Queens Creek last Friday.

(The story behind that impromptu boat ride is another story entirely.)

The Fourth was a big deal around here back in the day. The place to be was anchored off Gwynn's Island for the fireworks put on by the Islander. Oh, what I wouldn't give for one more Fourth spent on a boat off that island watching fireworks.

However, given that my boat nearly caught on fire yesterday, which is yet another story for yet another day, I doubt I'd make the trip even if they were still doing the fireworks from there.

Click here for an old post about the Islander.

Click here for a poem I wrote about July 4th at the Islander.

Click here if you're tired of hearing me say click here.

In other news, and in honor of the holiday, this blog is taking a much needed siesta.

Hope to be back and rarin' to go next week.

Have a great week.

Three Things

Here we are, once again, at the day of the week called Thursday, which is when I share three things and you (hopefully) share three things. There are no rules or regulations dictating what you should share, especially even as it relates to the number.  Three is just a suggestion.  Just share.

I'll go first.

1.  The photo above of the Islander was taken from my deck using the zoom lens.  To convey what that place meant to so many people is impossible to do in a blog post.  The story would, however, make a very nice movie or book. In a rural county whose main attraction (aside from its isolation) is its natural beauty and proximity to the water, the Islander provided Us Locals with recreational and social activities otherwise unheard of; and Them Tourists with an experience that simply could not be replicated.

2. Right now I could use an extended stay at the Islander, assuming the seafood buffet, the swimming pool and that upstairs lounge were still open for business. Even so, I'm ready to go.

3.  I'm looking forward to a vacation even if it involves a tent and no running water. Extended time away from Life is in order, and it's long overdue.

Now it's your turn.

The Islander Brochure

Scanned copy of an original brochure from the Islander

The other day while rifling through a box of memories, I stumbled upon this brochure for the Islander motel, marina and restaurant from back in its heyday.

Click on the images (above and below) to enlarge them.

See that naive girl in the middle (above) pretending to tuck her hair behind her ear?  That's a young Chesapeake Bay Woman, circa 1981, strolling through the shallow waters that hug the shoreline just beyond the pool area.  

CBW spent many happy summers at that pool and became fast friends with Charles the lifeguard, who was the owners' nephew.  One day, Charles told her to follow That Man With the Camera down to the beach to take some pictures.  Without asking any questions, CBW dutifully obliged. 

After asking her to sign some paperwork, The Man With the Camera told her to walk around pretending to do this or that. When he insisted she pretend to tuck her hair behind her ear, CBW could hardly pretend not to laugh.  Nobody would ever walk along that beach doing something so silly.

In spite of this internal debate, CBW pretended to do the this or that the man suggested, and the next thing she knew the photo of her doing the silliest thing of all was in the Islander brochure. 

See the man in the pool with the child on his shoulders (lower left corner, above)?  That was Dr. Kearney, our pediatrician, and his daughter Colleen.  My mother considered him the best pediatrician ever.  He was the first person she called when CBW served her siblings d-Con rat poison at a tea party.  (Nobody was actually eating anything, it was just pretend, for goodness sakes.)

What I remember most besides his accent and moustache was getting shots, lots of them, and bracing for what he described as "just a little pinch."

Now we're together for eternity in the Islander brochure.

Scanned copy of back side of original brochure

Unrelated to pretend hair tucking, rat poison, pediatricians or pinches but still related to the Islander, below is a copy of an Islander ad that ran in a 1974 Mathews High School Tidewater Shrine Club Football Classic program (try saying that three times in a row, really fast).  Mathews played West Point, in case anyone was still awake wondering. My friend Bayman and I found this rummaging through an attic one hot, sweltering day.

Be advised that the time of year to rummage around an unventilated attic is any time of year except summer.  

Scanned copy of an MHS football program ad, 1974

Be advised the time of year to take a walk down Memory Lane is any time.

This concludes CBW's lesson in how to use her scanner walk down the particular cul-de-sac of Memory Lane known as the Islander. 

Have a great weekend.

The Islander

This beautiful moon, hovering over Gwynn's Island, visited about a week ago.   

The Islander, once a flourishing motel, marina and restaurant, is there on the right. 

As we've said many times on this blog, the Islander is a little piece of heaven and local history in dire need of some attention. Sitting on one of the best pieces of real estate in the county, it has the potential to return to its former status as one of the premier vacation destinations for boaters, tourists, and locals alike.

But money (lots) and resources (considerable) would be required to complete such a project. 

For the moment, let's pretend that I own the property, which I don't, but for purposes of what is to follow let's just pretend. Daydreaming and pretending are pretty much how I survive. It pays to have a vivid imagination.  It doesn't seem to pay actual money--at all--but it pays in other ways such as physical and mental endurance when dealing with the day of the week called Monday and it is Sunday night as you write this.

Note to self:  If you use the word "it" any more in this post, a hand will reach through the computer screen and slap you. Not once, but twice. 

Why is the Commodores song Three Times a Lady starting up in my head?  

With the DIY Network people coming in town soon to begin filming for their next  Blog Cabin series, I see  a grand opportunity to match resources with potential projects.

Dear DIY Network Folks,

Mathews County is thrilled you'll be here soon to film your Blog Cabin show   featuring one of our lovely older homes.  We hope your project is a huge success and that your crew adjusts quickly to the unique quirks of our sometimes eccentric community which includes an oil-and-water blend a unique blend of Come Heres and From Heres, all of whom are engaged in a daily battle with insects, yard work,  heat and humidity every month of the year except January and half of February. 

When you've completed your project in Susan, could I take you for a drive over to Gwynns Island to visit the Islander?  I am convinced once you saw it* you'd find good reason to spend another couple of seasons here in Mathews.  

Also, if it* isn't asking too much, I'd like to take  you over to another house in Hudgins with a quasi-flooded basement, an electrical system gone awry, a malfunctioning hot tub, a pop-up camper that won't pop-up, three leaky faucets, some drywall damage to the ceiling where CB Son stepped through some insulation in the attic, a shoreline that needs bush hogging, and a worn out mother dock/boathouse that needs attention.

I really appreciate it. *  

Love,

CBW

What would you ask DIY Network to help you with?

* Slap! Slap!

The Marina

Above is a shot from this summer of some boats at the Islander marina on Gwynns Island.  My sisters and I spent practically every hour of every summer day at the Islander, and it wasn't until I saw this picture and let the memories come out to play that I realized we always called the Islander--the entire complex--The Marina.

The Islander consisted of a pool which accepted memberships from us locals; a well-equipped marina; a motel; a restaurant; and a snack bar.  It also had tennis courts and a playground. The only reason we went was for the pool.

And yet for some reason, whenever we wanted  to go to the pool, we'd ask our grandmother or mother to take us to the marina, which really meant the pool.

I wonder why that is.

These and other mysteries, such as why it's nearly Halloween and I still have to cut my grass and worry about being taken over by weeds, may never be fully understood.

Have a fantastic Sunday.

Blue and Green

Last night I decided not to post today.

Then, because of my obsessive/compulsive need to post daily because yesterday's pictures were so gray and gloomy, I changed my mind.

We can't have storm clouds lingering on the first one day I decide to skip a post, now can we?

So here is some blue and green, a little color for the weekend.

May yours be filled with more color than gray.

p.s. For those who may recognize it, that's the Islander in the background.

The Islander

Once upon a time on an island called Gwynn there was a magical fairyland known as the Islander. Sitting on some of the best real estate in Mathews, the Islander was surrounded by water and million dollar views.

There was a full-service marina, which attracted boaters from all over the world. Sometimes my friends and I pesky locals would sneak into the boathouses to step aboard admire the yachts and wonder about the sorts of people who owned yachts that sat in boathouses most of the time.
In addition to the marina, there was a motel, a restaurant, a lounge, a swimming pool, and a Lance snack machine that fed me and my sisters for approximately ten summers straight because my mother left us there with no food and no money a playground.

The great thing about the Islander was they allowed locals to purchase pool memberships. For people who lived under a rock didn't get out much, it was a great way to see new people and a heck of a fun way to spend a summer.

Above is the entrance to the restaurant (left), the motel (background) and a boat slip (that section in between the row of poles on the right and the next row of poles--now filled in with sand). That isn't just any boat slip, let me tell you. That particular boat slip always housed The Biggest Yacht You've Ever Seen--slick, sleek and loaded with every possible gizmo and gadget imaginable, though I never saw people aboard. That primo spot assured the invisible passengers an easy stroll to the pool and other amenities. The slip used to be deep - plenty deep to accommodate such a huge boat.

Now, after so many storms, including a hurricane (Isabel), a tropical storm (Ernesto), a hurricaneaster (Ida, which "they" say was a nor'easter but I say was a hurricane), and countless other storms, the Islander has lost all of its former glory, and the premier boat slip for The Biggest Yacht Ever is nothing more than a small beach.

Below is a shot of the spot where boaters convened to admire the Islander's fireworks every July 4th.

(OK, really it was intended to be a shot of an osprey at sunset, but that didn't work out so well. So only a part of the body of water is shown here. This painful superfluous aside is now over.)

Boats of every sort would anchor and await the always-wonderful fireworks. Some of the best nights of my life were spent on this patch of water.
In fact, most of my best summer--and life-- memories involve the Islander.

I miss her.

A lot.

p.s. On my desk I have a brochure for the Islander from back in her heyday. Guess whose picture is inside? But that's a whole 'nother story for a whole 'nother day.

Do you have any Islander stories?

Do you have fond summer memories of a place you spent in your youth?

Do you have ties to the film industry so we can begin work on the movie that is just begging to be produced about the Islander? Bueller? Anyone?

Three Things

Welcome once again to the day known as Thursday and the post known as a three ring circus Three Thing Thursday, where I share three completely random things, and you do the same, hopefully.

Let's go.

1. The photo above is of the 1970s-era Mathews County Disney World known as the Islander motel, restaurant and marina on Gwynns Island. This magnificent patch of land holds so many memories for so many people. Surely there's a screenplay book just waiting to be written about it all. By the way, I'd like to volunteer to be the person who writes that book screenplay, the day after I successfully clone myself into three or twelve people who would take over my current obligations and responsibilities, which by the way are too many.

2. There's a photo in this week's Gazette Journal (I think it's page 3, upper right corner) of two participants in last weekend's Womanless Beauty Pageant to benefit Relay for Life. I don't care how many times I see those photos, I die laughing. Hysterically.

3. Today I'm driving up to Dewey Beach, Delaware, to meet up with former college roommates Iris and Lenja. Lenja (pronounced LEN-ya), originally from Finland, now lives in the U.K. She flew here just for this mini-reunion (of 3) at Iris's beach house. At a previous Northern Virginia reunion in the 1990s, Lenja backed her parents' station wagon down a hill over a concrete retaining wall such that her rear tire was spinning, suspended in midair, until the nice tow truck man made everything OK. Another time, she fell into the canal in Georgetown, and Iris had to pull her out.

Dear Dewey Beach,
I apologize in advance.
With love,
Lenja CBW

Now it's your turn to share three--or more--things, whatever you want. Anything at all.

The Islander

If there were such a thing as a Kid Paradise during the 1970’s in Mathews, the Islander Motel and Restaurant on Gwynns Island would hands down be IT.

OK. This picture  has to be blurry. I apologize. But never fear. I have other unblurry ones that will be featured in future editions of The Islander: Unattended Children Gone Wild.

The Islander, pictured above, used to be a combination “anyone can join for a small fee” county swimming pool, restaurant, lounge (shhhh, don’t tell anyone, but people actually drank in Mathews, they don't do it anymore) and marina on The Most Beautiful piece of waterfront property known to man.

If that man lives in Mathews.

It was also where I learned many of life’s lessons.

I’m feeling frisky today, so let’s take a Pop Quiz, shall we?

1. You are 12 years old and either your mother or your father’s mother is responsible for your well being and determining Some Activity for you to do over the summer. The ideal solution is:

a) a nice Baptist summer camp;
b) arts and crafts with your parents, to include a performance of Koom-By-Ah beside a campfire at night;
c) to be dropped off, with no adult supervision, at a swimming pool exactly 8 miles from home and 6 As the crow flies. This would be The Islander Pool. It was 8 feet at the deep end and had a diving board along with a "life" guard.

2. You are 12 years old, and you and your younger sister have been dropped off at The Pool at the Islander. Some of the things you do are:

a) swim in the pool;
b) hope that some nice young couple will walk off with your younger sister so she doesn’t cramp your style and
c) go rooting around in the marina trash cans for aluminum cans for money.
d) A,B & C

3. The reason you are rooting around in the trash cans located every 5 feet on the dock of the marina is:

a) You want to help them keep up with their trash maintenance;
b) You are searching for a spare quarter to put in the nab machine (Who remembers –or even knows--what a pack of nabs is? Anyone? Bueler? Anyone?)
c) Your father’s mother promised to pay you a certain amount of money, namely a PENNY for every aluminum can you procured, no matter how much disgusting Pabst Blue Ribbon was swirling around in a hot, hellish vortex of NASTY at the bottom of each can, so therefore you stood on your head in trash cans trying to locate any and all things aluminum.
d) B&C

4. When you were left unattended like every other child in the county at the time at the Islander swimming pool, what are some of the things that occurred that your parents never witnessed?

a) I was running away from Mark Fry, rounded a corner too soon, ran square into a metal telephone box (back in the days of public telephones) and cut my head enough to receive a “butterfly stitch.”
b) I got married and they never knew.

OK. Enough. The Islander is going to be the subject of many future posts here, because there are simply too many stories to tell in one sitting.

Sadly, the Islander currently is in a state of decay, although it has so much potential, and is really only used as a marina and a place for the occasional hotel guest. Hopefully with sense enough not to round that corner too quickly and run dead into the metal telephone booth.

Or dig for beer cans.