In 2007 Andrew (Andy) Bystrom and 11 other young adventurers inaugurated the Captain John Smith Chesapeake National Historic Trail by traveling 1500 miles of Smith’s route in a 28-foot replica shallop. Rowing and sailing the shallop over 121 days, they participated in events in 28 cities and towns as ambassadors for the first national water trail.
As the official scribe for the trip, Andy Bystrom wrote many of the journal entries that you can read on the Captain John Smith 400 website.
In the series of articles that follows, Bystrom recalls some of his favorite places and experiences along the Smith trail with the shallop crew.
- The Journey’s Beginning—Jamestown
- Running Aground on the Lower Eastern Shore
- Feasting on the Bay’s Islands
- The Potomac: A Must Travel River
- Bouncin’ Around the Headwaters: Upper Bay Rivers
1: The Journey’s Beginning—Jamestown
Whomever your captain, whatever method of transportation or duration of time you have to explore the Chesapeake Bay, you’re in for an incredible experience. There is history for the taking along these waters. Wildlife, wild places, forested shorelines, underwater beds of grass, hidden creeks and coves await your expedition. And these only graze the water’s surface of endless possibilities in store for you along the Captain John Smith Chesapeake National Historic Trail.
Start Exploring
Unique pockets of traditional Bay culture exist along the trail. Native American settlements along the shore offer a view into the workings of cultures that called the Chesapeake home for thousands of years before Captain John Smith crossed its horizon.
There are modern conveniences for your enjoyment and comfort, perturbing Bay issues, big cities, suburbs, small towns, no towns, islands, recreation, peace and quiet, and fun along this trail.
See something you like? I do. Let’s start exploring.
Best Place to Begin
A trail with no bona fide start or finish line poses the question: Where is the best place to begin? While “anywhere” will suffice, it’s important to have a route in mind—like, say, John Smith’s route. That said, there is no better place to begin and/or end your exploration than at Jamestown, Virginia.
One of the most impressive memories I have of our 2007 journey was seeing Jamestown for the first time from the water. Almost all visitors to Jamestown drive themselves there, never quite capturing the scene the colonists experienced from the water as they arrived by boat.
Imagine 400 Years Ago
Forested shorelines buffer both sides of the fort, and the view is very similar to the one the Europeans first gazed upon 400 years ago.
There are no red lights or stop signs in the river—just you, your boat, and the feeling that this is exactly how the first exploration of the Chesapeake Bay began. Imagine how the explorers felt after turning their backs on their home at the exploration’s beginning. Imagine the relief they must have experienced after rounding the final spit of land at the journey’s end and seeing the diminutive fort in the shimmering distance. Imagine.
2: Running Aground on the Lower Eastern Shore
“But our boat by reason of the ebb chancing to ground upon a many shoals lying in the entrances, we spied many fishes lurking in the reeds.” John Smith, 1612
This is the only mention Captain John Smith makes in his journals to running aground in the grasses, but I bet it happened more than once. During our 2007 exploration we ran aground more times than I could count, even though the shallop needed only two and a half feet of water.
But sometimes one comes across something so unexpected and utterly perfect that running aground and lingering for a while just seems like the right thing to do.
Delmarva’s Different Rhythm
The section of trail along the Delmarva Peninsula is a land filled with inlets and quiet creeks that reflect the different rhythm of life that exists on this opposite shore and among Tangier Sound’s islands.
Running aground in Occohannock Creek on the lower Eastern Shore was one of those serendipitous moments that turn long methodical days into independent journeys of exploration. In a world of scripted adventures and few travel secrets left to hide, you won’t have to wait in line to explore this undeveloped portion of Chesapeake Bay shoreline.
Red and green channel markers define narrow, deep water alleys through these creeks, coves, and hideouts. Don’t pay them any attention! Just kidding. But do remember that a great thing about the water trail is that you’re not confined to stay between the lines.
Great for kayaking, the shallows and lack of human activity down here provide the consummate habitat for the diverse assembly of underwater plant growth unique to this estuary. It’s a perfect underwater world that may stop you in your tracks and force you to take a closer look at the true managers of this trail.
Underwater Wonderland
Underwater grass beds thrive in the shallow water, soaking up the sun’s life-giving rays. These ecosystems of submerged aquatic vegetation create oxygen and diverse marine habitats. Paddling over them allows the traveler to glimpse into a microcosm of life that refuses to change. While they exist from the Bay’s mouth to its headwaters, this shore’s undisturbed nature makes for languid afternoons of exploration.
Juvenile blue crabs grow up here. They scuttle among the strands of eel and widgeon grass, growing stronger on the nutrients they pick from the surrounding waters. Small fish such as menhaden, herring, shad, and white perch begin life here, seeking shelter in these shallow aquatic forests from their larger cousins and waterfowl.
These small wonders support the complex society we’ve built around them. If the SAV’s go, so do the blue crab industry and the fish stocks that many hard-working people depend upon.
Linger Awhile
Running aground here means you have no choice but to stay a little while longer in this fragile world, awaiting the rising tide to float you free. It gives you time to appreciate the equilibrium in these waters.
Smith and his crew didn’t linger and explore the Lower Eastern Shore. Running short of drinking water, they made quick work crossing the Bay. Their priorities focused on subduing their burning thirst.
Explore Life Under the Trail
Today, I can’t think of a better way to spend time than stuck in a bed of underwater grass. Peering into these living resources is a great way to experience life below the trail’s surface. SAVs were growing here, providing marine habitat, and filtering the Bay’s waters long before Smith rowed through them. While we have lost a great portion of the grasses since his time, SAVs still function in the same way.
If you can (if your boat will allow it), stray from the channel markers that line Occohannock Creek or any of the many other inlets that cut into the shore and islands down here. Try to get stranded for a while on an SAV.
Bring plenty of water; it gets hot out on the Chesapeake in the summer, as Captain Smith and his crew discovered.
3: Feasting on the Bay’s Islands
Have you ever downed a deep-fried, soft-shelled crab sandwich? Ever hung out with the folks who catch the iconic Chesapeake Bay blue crab for a living?
History and natural beauty are fine and dandy, but don’t distract me when I’ve got a bushel of No.1 Jimmies (large male crabs) to attend to. C’mon, jump in, there’s plenty for everyone.
Tangier and Smith Islands
Welcome to the Lower Eastern Shore islands, specifically Tangier and Smith (Now where have I heard that name before?).
As long as there are fish in the Bay, the watermen (Chesapeake Bay fishermen) of these islands will be out in their drake tails and dead rises (workboats) checking, emptying, setting their pots, and otherwise applying their trade long before you or I dare to get out of bed in the morning.
Colorful floats bob upon the water’s surface in between the islands, tethered to the “pot” or crab trap below. It’s a slightly more exact science to fish catching than Captain John Smith’s futile technique of scooping them up with a frying pan.
We hooked a float on our rudder one night and ended up dragging the whole shooting match down the Bay. With that said, be careful to dodge them all, and no poaching! Consider yourself warned.
These islands harbor pockets of culture that, quite frankly, are just about extinct in this country. When the rest of us are inside on a frigid January evening, a waterman will be in his shanty—a workshop on stilts built above the water—preparing for next season’s catch by making repairs to his pot and painting his floats. It’s a never-ending job that’s passed down from father to son and generation to generation.
Increasingly Rare
As the Bay’s bounty diminishes and watermen are fewer and farther between, communities like Tangier and Smith are increasingly rare. There are no resorts or golf courses on these islands. It’s a credit to their stalwart dedication and downright stubbornness that island residents resist change and keep things as they are and always have been.
You may have your own opinion of this ideal, but there is no doubt that communities like those on Tangier and Smith islands are few and far between. It’s believed the folks on Tangier (all 604 of them at last count) speak an Elizabethan-era dialect of American English, possibly the same as Smith spoke. Many here claim to be direct descendents of the captain. And though he never had any documented children, who am I to say they’re wrong? Besides, if anyone should happen to carry the direct genetic code to the Bay, who better to hold onto it than the residents of these islands?
Troubled Waters
As you walk around the small distinct towns you may notice that the highest point might be the dock you tied up too. As if encroaching modern culture and depleted fish stocks weren’t bad enough, the residents have a potentially more unrelenting problem—sea level rise.
The islands are just impossible to see when approaching by boat. You’ll see the water tower on Tangier long before you see land. You’ll probably begin to wonder, “Are they just floating in the middle of nowhere?” Almost.
No boardwalks line the beaches; no stoplights blink overhead. The only way on or off the islands is by boat or very small plane. But breathe easy, fellow travelers, there is cable T.V.
Nothin’ Else Like This
I’m going to go out on a limb and wager that you will not say the following words on your visit here: “That looks just like what we saw in…,” because, friends, there ain’t nothin’ like this anywhere else.
I’ll bet that last No. 1 Jimmy on it.
Places to visit on Tangier and Smith Islands:
4: The Potomac: A Must Travel River
Nature and modern culture make strange bedfellows along the Potomac River. No stretch of trail better embodies the Chesapeake’s hopes and plights than the 100-mile run between the Bay and Washington D.C. This river gives us the chance to take stock of the entire picture, the real picture, and to put it all into perspective.
The Potomac lets the voyager experience what the modern Chesapeake Bay is all about. Contrasting shorelines show how the Chesapeake’s natural beauty and large metropolitan areas coexist. They also give the traveler food for thought about how society can continue to grow while at the same time preserving the beauty that surrounds it.
Bay Pressures
The Bay and its tributaries are not immune to developmental, economic, and environmental concerns. Poor water quality has destroyed many patches of submerged aquatic vegetation, as the murky haze doesn’t allow sunlight to diffuse down to the plants below. Nearly 17 million watershed residents put stress on the antiquated sewage treatment plants that process waste water.
Forests that once filtered sediments stripped from the land by rain have been converted into parking lots and streets. Rainwater that can no longer be absorbed plummets straight into Bay tributaries, like the Potomac. The river tries to process the mess, but it’s struggling. This you can see as you travel its length.
Hope for the Potomac
But friends, there is so much hope for the Potomac. The river’s ability to transition from an urban setting to a natural one, in only a few miles, is uncanny. Standing on George Washington’s back porch at Mount Vernon, overlooking the river as it cuts through the forest from one bend to the next, it’s hard to believe that the nation’s capital lies just downstream.
If you choose to explore this river—especially near Caledon Natural Area and St. Clements Island (the latter is only accessible by boat)— you will probably travel right by a female osprey. If you are careful not to disturb her, she will tear apart a white perch and place the shreds of meat into her chicks’ mouths while you watch. These are magnificent animals. Watch them glide inches above the river, as they scrape a talon across the water’s surface. This behavior is a way of cooling themselves on a hot Chesapeake afternoon.
If you know were to look, you’ll see a bald eagle; and Caledon and the surrounding areas are just the place to fix your gaze. People once drove these animals to extinction’s brink, but have come back to a flourishing existence. The Caledon Natural Area is home to one of the largest summer populations of bald eagles on the East Coast.
Best of Two Worlds
To venture along the stretch of river between the Woodrow Wilson Bridge and the Anacostia River, with the Washington Monument in the background, lets one see the power that our society yields. To travel through Caledon Natural Area, with its rolling green shorelines tumbling to the water and deer wandering to the bank for a cool drink, lets you uncover nature’s calming equilibrium.
Many contrasting things lie along the Potomac. The natural and urban settings ask the traveler, “How can we have the best of both worlds?” Perhaps you will find the solution. It’s out there, on this trail.
What’s my favorite spot on the water trail? Because of its plight, and because of its hopes, my favorite place on the John Smith Water Trail is the Potomac River, all of it.
Places to visit along the Potomac River:
5: Bouncin’ Around the Headwaters: Upper Bay Rivers
This theater at the head of the Bay saw Smith’s greatest exploits of the 1608 summer, and there’s no reason why it shouldn’t hold the same for you.
In a perfect world everyone would have sufficient time to travel the Smith trail’s entire length (some 3,000 miles). But most people will likely choose section(s) to explore. If you have only a handful of days to spend with history, you cannot go wrong with exploring the Bay’s headwaters.
Four Rivers Converge
Two hundred miles from its mouth, these “endless waters” funnel into a series of four rivers: the Susquehanna, Northeast, Elk, and Sassafras. These branches converge to create the Chesapeake Bay estuary.
With both shorelines closing in inexorably on the crew since leaving the James River, one can imagine how the explorers felt when they finally grasped the geographic reality of the Bay and realized that the Chesapeake was not a Northwest Passage to China.
By this point in the journey, August 1608, half of Smith’s men is sick or otherwise incapacitated to some degree. With only half the crew to do all the exploring, they still managed to finagle themselves in and out of contentious situations with the various Indian tribes living in the area. Oh, those dog days of summer.
A Long Way from Jamestown
The setting here is dramatically different from the Bay’s southern portions. There is a feeling of, “Wow, we’re a long way from Jamestown.”
Heavy forests and massive rock outcrops tower over the Susquehanna River’s deep, dark waters. The scenery conveys the magnitude of the Bay’s largest provider of fresh water. The river’s mouth runs under a series of four bridges that whisk the rest of America on their way at 65 mph, while those below on the river enjoy a different pace of life.
Much to See and Do
The Susquehanna Flats are excellent fishing grounds. Waiting for you are white perch, striped bass (rockfish), shad--both American and hickory--and tons of other kinds depending on the season and water temperature. And the flats are home to more SAVs that appear to be making a partial comeback here in recent years.
On your journey up the Susquehanna you’ll probably feel quite small, wedged between the towering shorelines. Stop at the town of Port Deposit, MD, at their well-defined central dock to experience the passing coal trains and gravel barges manhandled by brawny tugboats, as both work to keep commerce ticking in the watershed. You’ll find great views all along the town’s riverfront despite the feeling that the mountains looming above are conspiring to push the town into the river’s depths.
Havre de Grace is another great Bay town with history and accommodations as the Bay opens up on one side of the city while the other side is flanked by the Susquehanna’s stalwart flow. With the option to jump from town to town so readily available, don’t forget to go river jumping, just as Captain John Smith did.
If you study Smith’s map you’ll notice the indelible Tockwogh Indian village on what must be the modern day Sassafras River. This was a friendly tribe that was willing to trade food to the explorers in return for small glass beads and pieces of metal. Archeologists, tourists, and locals have searched in vain for this settlement.
While in the area, take a trip over to Elk Neck State Park and hang out on acres and acres of sandy beaches, marshlands, and forested overlooks.
It’s impossible to see from one side of the Bay to the other down south, but here everything is condensed and packed together. This makes for easy excursions to many different things. Big boats and small kayaks dart between the shores, rivers, and towns, making this portion of the Captain John Smith Trail a delightfully easy way to see and do a lot (just like Smith did in 1608).
Places to visit along the Upper Bay rivers: