Cape Charles, Virginia
I’d been to Cape Charles many times by land before sailing in, and it was worth the wait to arrive by boat. For decades, this historic little town just inside the Chesapeake Bay’s entrance has worked toward its new moment in the sun, and at last, it seems to have arrived. When we sailed in running ahead of a line of late-day squalls, ending a passage from North Carolina, I was happy to see a new marina with floating docks where before there’d been little more than broken down bulkheads. The welcome was as it always has been here—friendly, helpful, and happy to know you.
Cape Charles is across the Chesapeake from the intensely crowded and paved southern side of Virginia Beach, Hampton Roads, and Norfolk, and it couldn’t be more different. Built in the late 1800s as the southern terminus of the Pennsylvania Railroad, the tidy town was once a critical East Coast shipping link, its rail lines ending in piers where tugs and barges carried goods across the vast mouth of the Bay. But when the 17-mile-long Bay Bridge-Tunnel opened in 1964, its reason for being ended, and for decades it dwindled.
Today, it’s a charming, highly walkable town with that historic deepwater port proving to be a godsend for sailors of all stripes. The city’s marina, Cape Charles Harbor, has 94 slips and can accommodate yachts as large as 120 feet. Cape Charles Yacht Center next door offers service (they can haul multihulls, too) and slips. The Shanty, a funky, fun waterfront restaurant, is on the harbor, and it’s a pleasant short walk to Mason Street and adjoining tree-lined avenues for more pubs, shops, and eateries.
What I’ve always loved most about Cape Charles is its laid-back, down-to-earth vibe. If you need a ride to the grocery store, just ask and someone will give you a lift. Don’t be surprised if you end up hanging out on Mason Street, or watching the stunning sunsets along Bay Avenue, and chatting with strangers turned friends.
Cape Lookout Bight, North Carolina
The first time we sailed into Cape Lookout Bight, we’d hopped from Beaufort Inlet to anchor and wait out a potent autumn cold front overnight, staging to rocket south at dawn on its following northwest wind. As the steady beam of the 163-foot Cape Lookout Light pierced the wild, black night, we knew wanted to return when we had more time and settled weather. And when we did the following spring, we were rewarded with sunshine, sea turtles, and miles of dazzling beaches nearly to ourselves.
Roomy, well-protected, and dramatically scenic, the bight sits inside the fishhook-shaped end of Core Banks, the southern start of the barrier islands that make up North Carolina’s famous Outer Banks. As far as the eye can see is Cape Lookout National Seashore—55 miles and 28,000 acres of beaches and barrier islands stretching from Beaufort Inlet north to Ocracoke. Lots of cruising sailors blow right by here on their way into or out of Beaufort and its access to the ICW, but at just 6 miles from the inlet, it’s an easy stop and well worth the time.
The lighthouse is the dominating man-made feature. Built in 1859 (the first lighthouse here was built in 1812), it’s not as famous as its northern cousin at Cape Hatteras, but its distinctive, diamond-shaped, black-and-white pattern is unique among lights in the U.S. It’s undergoing renovations now, to be hopefully completed by next summer.
There are a couple of visitor centers dotted up and down the national seashore here, including a small one at the lighthouse. But the real draw to this place is its remoteness and solitude—especially given its proximity to busy Morehead City, Beaufort, and the ICW. The only access is by boat, so as soon as we arrived, we felt privileged even to be here. A quick dinghy ride over blue-green waters led to seemingly endless crystalline white sand, and we spent days walking, beachcombing, birding, and turtle-spotting. And even with the loom of the nearby cities, the peerless night sky over the Atlantic made us feel like we were still offshore.
Lewes, Delaware
If they know it at all, most sailors know Lewes, Delaware, for its harbor of refuge behind the long arm of Cape Henlopen. From here, you can tuck in and wait out bad weather while watching the ferries transit to and from Cape May across the mouth of Delaware Bay, or dinghy into the beach for a walk at beautiful Cape Henlopen State Park. But a little farther north, Roosevelt Inlet offers a way into town proper, and this is a lovely place to sidetrack a coastal trek.
Situated along the Lewes and Reboboth Canal, Lewes is a terrific little town for walking, dining, and even just hanging out along the canal and watching the comings and goings of the charter fishing fleet at Angler’s Marina (which also provides haul-out services). The city-owned park along the canal includes the Lightship Overfalls, a restored 1938 U.S. Lighthouse Service lightship that now serves as a museum.
Lewes offers transient slips at Canalfront Marina Park and City Dock at 1812 Park, accommodating boats up to 55 feet, with 10 feet of water at the latter. From either, it’s a block to Savannah Road and Second Street, where you will not lack for pubs, restaurants, and shops. One of the coolest toy stores ever is here—Kid’s Ketch—and if you’re into tequila, don’t miss Agave. Zwaanendael Museum explains the town’s Dutch history, and if it’s Saturday, George H.P. Smith Memorial Park is lively with the excellent farmer’s market.
Lewes has grown more crowded of late; it’s not as chill a town as it was even six years ago. But I always feel relieved and happy when I arrive and walk up Savannah Avenue to Lloyd’s Market. This unassuming, friendly place—the oldest grocery store in the state—is sure to have fresh local produce in season, delectable rotisserie chicken, a terrific deli, and a cheese collection that tests my resolve. Lewes is eminently walkable, but if you happen to have bikes onboard (or rent some in town), it’s an easy bike ride out to Cape Henlopen where miles of paths wind through dunes and maritime forest. For a visiting sailor, there are few places quite like it.
June/July 2024
