For me, it started back in 1980. The annual Skipjack Race festival at Deal Island, which occurs each Labor Day weekend. This is not just a race, this is an entire weekend. This is a celebration by a proud community, celebrating their heritage of sail-powered oyster dredging. It marks the end of summer and also the beginning of oyster season, although some watermen will hang on to crab through October. Despite the festivity of the weekend, it is the departure of summer which makes it bittersweet for me.
Over the years I have been to many of these Skipjack races, enjoying the fun of the entire weekend on the island. There were a few years I missed- in the army, having kids, etc but for the most part I have made most of them. Some have been glorious weekends, some have been blistering hot, and there was even one where it rained all weekend to the tune of about 10 inches, submerging my yard under about a foot of water and trapping 10 of us indoors (in the shack) all weekend. 2013 brought us a warm but otherwise gorgeous weekend.
Saturday kicked off with a crab feast down in Wenona with friends old and new. After stuffing myself with crabs, crab cakes, and some really hot salsa I made- it was off to Shedders', where I sat in on bass with Captain Harry and Crew. Everyone had a great time and I got a great night's sleep, in anticipation of riding my motorcycle Sunday morning. I had recently finished building a motorcycle trailer out of an old boat trailer, and I used it for the first time to pull the cycle down to Deal Island. After about a 2 hour cruise down every nook and cranny on the island and the town of Chance, it was parade time.
The Skipjack parade begins at the school, right next to my camper. So, some friends came over and we had a little party to celebrate the parade. My friend Tammy brought her brother, actor Dale Midkiff, who served as Grand Marshal (poobah) of the parade- which we had a lot of fun with. Well, the parade lasted about 8 minutes this year, it was definitely the smallest and shortest in my memory. It was emblamatic of the scale of all the weekend official activities, including the race and the festival. I'm not sure what's up with the organizers but the way I see it, if you are not growing, you are dying.
After the parade, my wife Candy came down to join me for dinner. It was kind of like icing on the cake and I wish she could have been there the whole weekend but it was not possible (this year). One of our friends, Mary rented a really nice Italian villa-style house overlooking the water in Wenona. We all gathered there- Candy, me, Tammy, Steve, Dale, Mary, Ellie, Robert, Ellie's sister Linda, Lex, Stacy, Jennifer, Tammy's dad Tom. Linda brought a 3 ft long ribeye which we slow grilled, while I had a fry fest featuring rockfish, croaker, soft crabs, and oysters. It was a meal to remember, one for the decades. We all meandered back up to the harbor to catch the live band, and they were great !! The evening ended with a nightcap on the roof deck of the Italian villa, watching the lights of Tangier Sound as the southwest winds blew refreshingly through our hair.
Monday morning was the Skipjack race, the main event. Some of us gathered at Robert's boat CashFlow II at Scott's Cove, and we picked up the rest of our crew, 10 in all at the main dock. It was a great race, with mostly heavy overcast skies which cleared just as the race was ending. Chance Skipjack Ida Mae handily took first place, pulling away from the pack after the turn around the Wenona buoy. It was a great race, and although we had a few brief raindrops fall on us, we all had a great time, and Mary filmed it all in HD. We were treated to 92-year old Daddy Art Daniels singing over the VHF "When the Star Passes By", which I still cannot locate anywhere on line. I'll have to ask him about it when I see him next. I had decided mid-day to stay over until Tuesday morning, something I had not done in years. This was I was able to see all of the workboat docking contest, the awards ceremony and closing remarks by none other than Katherine captain Stoney Whitelock. To end the day, a little bit of motorcycle cruising, a beer at Shedders, and to bed by 10.
The next day, it was back to work by 11:30. The Tuesday after Labor Day is always a really weird feeling time for me. All the crowds have gone. The friends have all either departed or are worn-out from the weekend and are off the radar screen, heading out soon themselves. The locals are back to work first light, as usual. There is little evidence that a great festival has just rocked this island, except for the 5 (of 8 total) remaining participating skipjacks docked in the harbor, and the festival tents nearby. What I had anticipated for nearly a month is now over, but sure to return next year. The weather is noticeably cooler, and this happens every year as if God has suddenly turned down the thermostat a few degrees. I am looking forward to next year's race already, as I am hoping to be aboard the repaired and restored Katherine, which I have literally spilled by blood on. And of course I am already dreaming of more fishing. And speaking of which- you thought this was going to be about fishing, didn't you? Haha joke is on you- I didn't even wet a line this entire weekend.
So, preparing to go to Guatemala on Sunday on a mission trip, then more September trips to Philly, Baltimore, and WVU. Will not be back to the island until October. SIGH,.....
