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German lifeboat did second duty as floating home and chapel

Touring the boats in the Patuxent Small Craft Center at the Calvert Marine Museum, you may notice a rather unusual looking model. Sitting near the Drum Point Lighthouse, this mash-up of houseboat and lifeboat is the Ark of Hungerford Creek.

Boats are only part of the fun

It’s a Melamud family ritual 30 years in the making. I announce I’m planning to go to the Annapolis Boat Show. My wife gets a puzzled look, then reminds me that our current boat is perfectly adequate and we are certainly not looking for a new one. I explain that the Boat Show is not just for people planning to buy a new boat; there are other reasons to go. I then promise not to buy a new boat. She wishes me a good time, and off I go.

Follow new Guide to “hidden gems”

You’ll find your way on the Magothy River with ease and insight with a copy of the brand-new Magothy River Water Trail Guide.     “Our river is like a hand with a narrow opening between Gibson Island and Persimmon Point and Dobbins Island in the palm,” says 20-year Magothy River Association president Paul Spadaro. “But what’s really worth experiencing are the fingers and fingernails.”

As lifelong power-boaters, could we catch on?

After a lifetime of power-boating on a variety of vessels, my wife and I sold our 28-foot diesel powerboat to try our hand at sailing.     You read our story — Trading Our Combustion Engine for the Power of the Wind — in Bay Weekly’s spring Back to the Water issue (     How did we fare?

The fun’s better when you stay safe

The Dream: You take family and friends out on your boat for an evening of spectacular fireworks. Your anchor sets on the first try. There is plenty of space between you and the other boats. You enjoy a picnic and a few cold ones. The weather is warm and clear; the kids enjoy taking a dip. Anticipation builds as the sky darkens; then the fireworks burst and boom. The colors are even more beautiful reflected in the water. Everyone oohs and ahs. After the big crescendo, you up anchor and head for home. Soon, you are tied up at the dock and saying your goodbyes.

After three years in Chesapeake waters, Pride of Baltimore II resumes her voyages of goodwill

How long can you stay at home before the urge to get out of the house overwhelms you? That restless feeling also afflicts one of our local treasures: the sailing ship Pride of Baltimore II. This year she is finally escaping her home waters of the Chesapeake Bay, off on the high seas to do what she was built to do: travel afar to represent Maryland and foster friendships and economic relations.     Since 1988, Pride II has been all over the world as Maryland’s ambassador. But she hadn’t left Chesapeake Bay in three years.

With this issue, we enter Chesapeake Country’s favorite season

How lucky are we?         Having lived the first half of my life landlocked in America’s great Midwest, I look at the Chesapeake each day with gratitude and awe.     Now comes the time when fair days invite all of us children of the Chesapeake to do more than look.

Teens compete in the Annapolis Junior Keelboat Regatta

The future of competitive sailboat racing is in good hands, judging from the teenage competitors in the Annapolis Junior Keelboat Regatta.     “It’s really exciting to move up to the keelboats,” said Kate Riley, 16, a sophomore at Severna Park High and the only female skipper among the seven crews racing. “We didn’t win, but we got better and better and ­finished second in the last race.”

I’m eager to learn the skills and expertise employed by sailors for centuries

After a lifetime of power boating on a variety of vessels, my wife and I decided to sell our 28-foot diesel powerboat and try our hands at sailing.     Reading those words, do you cringe or applaud? Those are the two reactions we get when telling our story. Whether we are leaving the dark side to enter the light, or vice versa, remains the subject of much controversy.

Paddlers approach fish and wildlife closely and unobtrusively

Lifting the slender red hull with one hand, I put the single-person kayak in the back of my pickup truck, securing it with a bungee cord and tucking in the double-bladed oar. Within an hour, I was floating over the placid waters of my favorite lake, casting my fly rod to any number of bluegills, pickerel, bass and perch.     Later that week, I would launch the same craft along a major Chesapeake tributary to pursue white perch and schoolie rockfish with a light spin outfit.