Baywatch

“Dream big,” is the advice Gary Reich’s father gave him during their first-ever visit to a boat show together.

It was 1977, only a couple of months before the original Star Wars movie was released, when my elementary school classmates and I shuffled up the steps of the long, yellow school bus.

I was a sophomore in high school when Baltimore’s sailing ambassador, the clipper Pride of Baltimore, sank.

There’s something tortuous about magazine deadlines.

The campus of Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum in St. Michaels, Maryland, is typically quiet and serene. Things were much different on this morning. As I walked the grounds, the high-pitched whines of chain saws and power planers filled the air.

I am an over-the-top geek for birds. If the four nest boxes and five bird feeders in my backyard don’t sufficiently bolster my bird-nerd credentials, then the four pairs of binoculars and half a dozen or so bird field guides scattered about my house do.

An Eastern Shore boatyard is using its patented boatbuilding method to save tired, old wooden boats from the scrap heap.