St. John's Creek as Sanctuary

Much has been written recently about sanctuary cities and states. But these are highly political and we're not interested in politics here. In our last post, we wrote about the church in Crisfield as providing sanctuary for its neighbors in a time of threatening flood waters. Now we write about "hurricane holes" as being sanctuaries from rising waters and storm-force winds as nor'easters and hurricanes track up the Bay towards us. In this circumstance, we sought refuge in the myriad of channels and creeks inland from Solomon Island.

There is a labyrinth of creeks inside Solomon Island, as you can see from this picture. We chose to creep up St. John's Creek, but we could have gone up Mill Creek as well.

Inside Solomons, there is plenty of evidence that the harbor is filled with pleasure craft: sailboats and motor boats. But there are also tug boats, police boats, sheriff boats and pilot boats. Freighters and tankers bound further up the Bay would likely take on pilots to command these large ships into Philadelphia, Baltimore or Havre de Grace.

Turn the corner from the outer harbor where these boats and the marinas are and you quickly enter another world. Pick your way to any one of the several creeks and quickly you are surrounded by stately homes on the creek, many of which have private docks with their motor boats and runabouts on lifts out of the water.

Further up the creeks are more and more rural settings.

This home is low enough that it looks as if the basement is open to rising flood waters which can flood the basement and then easily drain out.

It is up this confluence of the St. John's and the Mill that we went to drop our anchor and feel secure, snugly ensconced in a narrow creek surrounded by sheltering trees. This was our sanctuary from our threat, Hurricane Imelda, that was battering the Outer Banks before it finally was pulled out to sea by its sibling, Humberto, towards Bermuda.

Thank you, St. John's, for your protection.

Cheers,

Brio