400 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Mat 18, 1895. 
A special meeting of the Indian Harbor Y. C, to act upon certain 
amendments to the constitution and racing rules was held at the 
Arena on May 8. In the absence of the flag officers the senior cap- 
tain, Mr. F. B. Jones, presided. The amendments to the constitution 
giving the trustees power to suspend or expel members for non-pay- 
ment of indebtedness, increasing the number of members of the re- 
gatta committee from three to five, and fixing the regular meetings to 
be held in January and July, were adopted. The racing rules were 
amended to conform to the changes recommended by the Yacht 
Racing Union of Long Mand Sound. A new rule wa' adopted that 
every yacht of 43ft. racing length, except open yachts in shiftable 
ballast classes, be steered by an amateur. Messrs. Ed. H. Burtis and 
Chas. E. McManus were appointed members of the regatta committee. 
It was announced that Aug. 29 had been selected as the date for a 
race for special classes of small yachts, and that the Tyson cup would 
probably be offered for the 20ft, racing length claES (or 1-raters) to be 
sailed for on July 1. 
The Winchester Arms Co., makers of theLavigne yacht cannon, 
have lately had one of these guns returned as unsatisfactory, the 
cause of complaint being that the gun— a 32in. one— made too much 
noise; a 24in. pun has been ordered to replace it. The firm is now 
making two guns for a steam yacht, the understanding being that 
they will make more noise than the muzzleloaders now used; these 
latter being loaded half way to the muzzle and kicking all over the 
deck when fired. 
The Douglaston Y. C. held a meeting on May 7 and ratified the action 
of its delegates in joining the Y. B. U. Com. C. A. Gould will be ab- 
sent for a time in Europe, but he has offered two cups of 8100 each as 
prizes in the 21ft. class Mr. F. E. Barnes has also offered a cup for 
the 34ft. class. The club has decided to offer prizes to the amount of 
$250 for its ladies' regatta, as well as a prize for the new dinghy class, 
recently described in the Fobest and Stream. 
A steam yacht, to be named Laura S., is building for M. J. SteffeuF, 
of Chicago, by B. W. Heath, Benton Harbor, to take the place of an 
older yacht of the same name. She wilJ be 100ft. over all, 76ft. l.w 1., 
14ft. beam. The cooking, as well as the lighting, will be done by elec- 
tricity. 
Salmon is the name of the new Dyer boat owned by Mr. W. E. C. 
Eustis. Mr. H. J. Burton and his son. Ward Burton, were recently at 
Buzzard's Bay for the purpose of trying the boat. She will make her 
first appearance in the Fall River Y, C. regatta of May 30. 
The Rhode Island Y. C has announced the following fixitures:- - 
June 23, annual regatta, ladies' day; July 15, annual cup regatta; Aug. 
26, annual open regatta. 
Free Lance is the name of the steam yacht huilding from A. Cary 
Smith's designs at the Crescent Shipyard, Elizabethport, by Lewis 
Nixon. 
Nautilus, cutter, owned by Capt. W. B Dickey, superintendent of 
the Erie Basin, is fitting out in fine shape, having been scraped and 
painted white. 
Lasca, schr., J. E. Brooks, was at Lisbon on May 6. 
Steam Launches. 
Marine Iron Works, Chicago, have just issued their 1895 catalogue 
mailed free.— Adv. 
FIXTURES. 
MAY. 
25. New York, Bensonhurst. 
30. New York, Bensonhurst. 
JUNE. 
15. Red Dragon spring regatta, Delaware River. 
IE. New York spring regatta, Bensonhurst. 
22. New York chal. cup, first trial race. 
29. New York chal. cup, second trial race. 
29. Marine and Field club annual, Bath Beach. 
JULY. 
6-20. W. C. A., 10th annual meeting, Ballast Island, Lake Erie. 
4. New York chal. cup, International races. 
AueusT. 
8-23. A. C. A., 16th annual meeting, Bluff Point, Lake Champlain. 
SEPTEMBER. 
14. Red Dragon fall regatta, Delaware River. 
AMERICAN CANOE ASSOCIATION, 1 S95. 
Commodore, Walter C. Witherbee, Port Henry, N. Y. 
Sec'y-Treas., Chas. E. Cragg, Port Henry, New York. 
Librarian, W. P. Stephens, Bayonne, N. J. 
PURSERS. 
Atlantic Division, Thomas Hale, Jr., Yonkers. N. Y. 
Central Division, W. S. Hackett, Albany, N. Y. 
Eastern Division, R. W. Cutler, Winchester, Mass. 
Northern Division, E. F. Burritt, Ottawa, Canada. 
Annual dues, gl; initiation fee. $1. Applications for membership 
must be made to the Purser of applicant's division, from whom 
blanks for the purpose may be obtained. 
A SUMMER CRUISE ALONG THE 
CHESAPEAKE. 
BY ABEL BOWEN NORRIS. 
One morning, as I sat in my office dreamily wondering 
where I should spend my summer, my thoughts went 
back to my old home, far down on that western peninsula 
of Southern Maryland. The old house, still bearing the 
impress of slavery days, amid fields of fragrant heather 
and acres of salt marshes, brought to my mind visions of 
youthful days and the placid memories of early canoe 
life. 
I am still an enthusiastic canoeist, and why should I not 
spend my summer there, I queried. Its lowlands will 
live forever in history, and the region is redolent with 
romance. In my fancy I could spe myself as a little boy 
paddling around the shores or the St. Mary's in sparch of 
the wary bait, while straight across the broad Potomac 
you can look into Virginia and beyond the wooded hills 
around the mouths of Coan and Yocomico, 
I thought, too, of the old mammy in the kitchen, of 
buckwheat cakes and country sausage, of her voice bawl- 
ing out in negro dialect: 
"Come outen dat pantry, you aurdacious white trash"— 
to say nothing of the dim visions of "corn pone" and 
"johnny cake." 
I could see the old homestead nestling among the cool 
trees, its lawns and its gardens, its fruits and its flowers, 
the perfumes of which were like incense to my tired soul. 
With each throb of my pulse my desire grew stronger, 
for the air without was heavy and the heat oppressive 
and I longed to throw aside the cares of the world, the 
swish and swirl of the great metropolis, steal away and 
find myself among the cool glades aud along the pearly 
shores of my native heath. 
I was rudely awakened from my reverie by a voice 
saying: 
"Hello, old fellow! I am off for the Thousand Islands 
to-morrow, will you be with us this season?" 
"No," I answered. 
"Why, I surely counted on you. The meet promises 
to be unusually large and there will be lots of sport." 
"I know it, but I have changed my plans." 
"You won't think me presumptuous if I ask why?" 
"Certainly not, my dear boy. The fact is I have been 
nearly all over the world and I haven't seen my old home 
for years. It occurred to me this morning t,bat J would 
like to see the old place again," 
"Oh," he said. 
"Yes," I continued, "and when I come to think of it, 
there is no region so glorious for a summer cruise — along 
the Chesapeake— deep water, a 'Per Coastin,' superb 
fishing and plenty of oysters. Won't you join me?" 
"Nothing would give me greater pleasure, old fellow, 
but you are too late." 
"Ah, well, I too am off to morrow." 
Boarding an express train the next morning, I was soon 
speeding away South. Precisely at 4 P. M. we ran into 
the big depot, Sixth street and Pennsylvania avenue, and 
a welcome voice shouted through the car, "All out for 
Washington!" 
I made close connection with the " Potomac Transpor- 
tation Co.'s" steamer, which plies between Washington 
and Norfolk, and at 12 o'clock midnight stepped ashore 
at Piney Point, the watering place par excellence of 
southern Maryland. 
Merry voices and familiar faces were around me. I was 
nearly home and once more in old St. Mary's — 
"That dear old land where the beautiful rivers flow." 
As I strode up the board walk to the hotel entrance I 
could see the tall pines, which abound in this place, and 
from which the point takes its name, nodding gracefully 
in the moonlight; and from the lighthouse on the beach 
a beacon burned strong and bright its cheerful ever wel- 
come glare. I felt a boy again and opened wide my 
mouth and filled my lungs with the pure, refreshing air. 
I did not stay long here, however. I crossed over to 
the island (St. George's) the next morning and found my 
old friend Captain C, who greeted me cordially, pottering 
among his canoes and overhauling his oystering material. 
Captain C, or Capt. Eph, as he is euphoniously called 
by the Islanders, is a character, one of the oldest inhabit- 
ants, an authority on local affairs and the richest man 
in the little community of three hundred souls that com- 
prise the population of St. George's Island. Bluff and 
hearty, with a handshake to be remembered, a level head 
for business, and one of the most hospitable men I ever 
met, as indeed all of these people are whom I had the 
pleasure of meeting. 
There is nothing luxurious around the home of Capt. 
Eph, but his pungeys, bugeyes and canoes are miracles of 
beauty and workmanship. 
I was soon looking over his splendid fleet, and a large 
33 foot "Per Coastin" with tall tapering spars and a spread 
of sail that would have done credit to a Marblehead yacht, 
particularly took my fancy. I closed with him at once as 
to price, and immediately began preparations for my 
cruise. 
All of these canoes are built on the Per, Coastin River, 
in a remote section of Virginia, and about 150 miles from 
St. George's Island in Maryland, h ence the name "Per 
Coastin." They are built of heart pine, and usually re- 
quire in construction six trees, which, when hewn out, 
are joined together so accurately that caulking is never 
necessary. The freeboard is low and they are sharp at 
both ends, yet their carrying capacity is great, for I have 
seen sixty bushels of oysters taken out of my boat. The 
foot-wide wash boards extend from stem to stern, and the 
canoe is long and narrow; their lines being exceedingly 
fine and graceful. 
At a casual glance one would think from their extreme 
length and meager beam the Chesapeake Bay canoes to be 
cranky. As a fact they are not, for I have often worked 
to windward with three whole sails while heavy fore-and- 
aft schooners were reefed down. All sheets are rigged to 
work aft, and the man at the tiller has absolute control 
of the boat either to trim or ease sail without leaving his 
seat. 
I had a locker put in forward which extended about lft. 
abaft the foremast, water-tight, in which I stowed my 
gun, blankets, hammocks, clothing, food, etc., in wet 
weather, and the one aft contained my fishing tackle, 
frying-pan, coffee pot, scoop, oysterknife, cullinghammer, 
and the numerous other accessories necessary for such a 
trip. My small 8ft. oyster nippers I easily placed under 
the washboard, and the five-gallon water cask was 
securely fastened between two 1501bs. sand bags just for- 
ward of the mainmast, which was ample ballast for me 
at any time. 
I should like to tell of Cherry Fields, my home, which 
lies between the mouths of St. Mary's and St. George's 
rivers, of the early pilgrims that saik d up the beautiful 
St. Mary's, charmed with its placid surface and verdant 
shores, and founded the second settlement in Maryland, 
but space does not permit; however, an institution of 
learning, a church and a seminary for young ladies, en- 
dowed by the State and the county of St. Mary's, mark the 
spot where they landed, and an old decayed mulberry 
tree is still pointed out to the curious as the spot where, 
beneath its then luxuriant branches, they held their first 
service. This beautiful place, with its giant locusts and 
wavy cedars, overlooking the historic stream, is now a 
rural cemetery, and many friends of former days are 
resting, reposing in peaceful sleep, beneath its hallowed 
ground. 
The lamented poet, Kirke White, has painted for us the 
beauties of memory in these lines: 
"Pictured in memory's mellowing glass how sweet 
Our infant days, our infant joys to greet; 
To roam in fancy each cherished scene, 
The village churchyard and the village green ; 
The woodland walk remote, the woodland glade, 
The mossy seat beneath the hawthorn's shade; 
The whitewashed cottage where the woodbine grew, 
And all the favorite haunts our childhood knew! 
How sweet, while all the evil shuns the gaze, 
To view th 1 unclouded skies of former days." 
On July 5, after bidding all adieu at Cherry Fields, I 
sprang aboard the Scud, the name chosen for my canoe, 
and with my young friend Turn, who had rather fish and 
cruise than eat, sprited out the foresail and mainsail, ran 
up the jib, and began working out to the Potomac. 
We soon passed the tall spar buoy that marks the end of 
St. George's Uand, and shaping our course due southeast 
bore away for Point Lookout, the destination for that 
day's run. 
With a free wind, the Scud made fast time; and early 
in the afternoon we made Cornfield Harbor, ran into the 
mouth of Point Lookout Creek, an excellent anchorage 
for canoes, and tied up for the night. 
Point Lookout is an historic spot, the extreme portion 
of Southwestern Maryland, and the bleakest place in all 
creation with the wind at any quarter. During the war 
it was the Southern supply station of the "Union forces 
and prison for captured Confederates. Thousands of 
brave men died here of disease and pestilence for the 
"lost cause." 
At the close of the war the county of St. Mary's pur- 
chased a part of the point and re-interred all they could 
find of both sides, who lay in the horrible trenches. A 
single granite shaft marks the place now grown with 
weeds, and the wind sighs dismally through the scraggy 
pines on the beach as a lonely requiem over the sleep of 
the brave. Traces of breastworks can be seen, and some 
of the old barracks still remain; the charred timbers of a 
hotel destroyed by fire lay half buried in the sand. Out 
on the point stands the lighthouse, and the Government 
still uses a long, low building filled with big, red can 
buoys. 
This is all of Point Lookout, once so famous in war, 
now so still in peace; and that night as I lay in my ham- 
mock beneath the southern cross gleaming in a cloudless 
sky, and the twinkling stars shining brightly, lulled to 
rest by the gentle surf, I dreamed of cantonments of artil- 
eTy, the swoop of cavalry, the clanging of the sabres and 
the last reveille— all stirring some years ago when I was 
a little boy, but— 
The distant crowing of a cock, presumably the light 
keeper's, and the chirping of birds around caused me 
to tumble out of my hammock. It was broad daylight, 
the sun nearly up. I called to Tom to "turn out" and 
start the fire, while I proceeded to make the coffee and 
prepare the bacon and eggs. How that early morning 
breakfast reached the spot! With the keenest of appetites, 
the nectar of splendid health and the elixir of life, my 
cheeks began to glow, my limbs grow strong, my whole 
being filled with pure air, the balmy essence of the spring 
time of a joyous season. Tom used a tin plate, while I 
monopolized the frying-pan. 
The day promised to be excellent, a moderate breeze 
blew from the west, which made a lee shore for the west- 
ern side of the bay, and, desirous of pushing on, we soon 
bad everything stowed and sails sprited. Shoving out 
into deep water, Tom ran up the jib, and laying our 
course south by east, we stood for Smith's Point. 
This was my first long reach, it being quite twenty-five 
miles across the mouth of the Potomac to the sandy 
promontory on the Virginia shore; but with bellying sails 
and a breeze heeling us delightfully the Scud danced 
along like a thing of life, gracefully parting the waves 
from her sharp prow and leaving far behind in her wake 
the numerous craft bound out. 
One big three-masted schooner which we overhauled 
and passed close to windward hailed us, and the captain 
being on the quarterdeck with bis family, laughingly im- 
plored us to take a line and give them a tow, but we mer- 
rily waved him adieu with the request to report the Scud, 
owner aboard, safe and well, as he passed out the Capes. 
Later in the day, as the breeze freshened, I could see our 
large friend away to lee'ard, every stitch of canvas draw- 
ing, and a big white bone in her mouth, plowing down 
the ship channel. 
As we crossed the Mason and Dixon Line and the sand 
hills around the tall tower of Smith's Point Lighthouse 
began to loom up, a big bull porpoise raised to blow 10ft. 
to windward on our quarter. He was so near I could see 
the barnacles all over his back, proclaiming him a veteran, 
and the noise and splash made as he sprang out of the 
water caused Tom, who was dozing, to spill himself in 
the bottom of the boat, while I myself was so startled 
that my pipe, which I was lazily puffing, came near fall- 
ing overboard. 
Tom hastily scrambled to his feet, and with eyes big as 
saucers blurted out: 
"Shades of Neptune! what was that?" 
"A big bull porpoise," I said, "a gamy old chap. There 
he is now," pointing to the water on our starboard quar- 
ter 8ft. away. 
And sure enough there he was, keeping perfect dis- 
tance, his majesty skimming along w'th great ease at an 
8-knot gait, not a quiver of his 6-foot body nor the move- 
ment of a fin could be seen, and his green eyes seemed to 
twinkleandsay "whatfun," yet when raisingtothe surface 
to get air his nose cut the water like a knife. Unlike the 
shark, they are perfectly harmless, and I have often won- 
dered how they propelled themselves so swiftly through 
the water, frequently darting in sport across the bows of 
a speeding steamer with the utmost abandon. We saw 
many on our cruise, great shoals of them, but none so 
sporty as this old fellow. 
"Well, I'll be dingswiddled," said Tom, "I'll give him a 
shot." 
"Don't," I quickly said, showing a sailor's superstition 
that a porpoise brought good luck and a breeze, while a 
shark in the wake of a vessel invariably is the warning of 
death and disaster. I felt grateful to our fishy friend for 
his good-natured companionship and was content to let 
him alone. We finally lost him in crossing the bar of 
Smith's Point, the water becoming shoal. 
(TO BE CONCLUDED NEXT WEEK.) 
A. C. A. Membership. 
Atlantic Division: Albert W. Elliman. Eastern Division: Stephen 
Matherson, Jr., Boston. 
ifle Hnnge mid (jjgalkrg. 
Revolver Shooting in England. 
At the North London Uifle Club there are now two shoot iag days a 
week. The result of the last two days is below: 
April 20.— 20yds., stationary target: 
Capt Evans 347777—35 Hore 477463 -31 
Capt Earle 64T 573-32 
April Sk -— Disappearing- target, 20yds. • 
Majir Munday 775677—39 MacKormack 664444—28 
Comber 774776—38 CaptEarie 745055-26 
Carter 676477—37 Lieut Eichardson... 444545 -26 
Major Palmer 666465-33 Capt Evans 254255-23 
Howe 476465—82 
This score of Major Muuday at the disappearing target ought to 
get into the prize list. 
At the South London Eifie Club hardly anyone has shot yet in the 
revolver competitions. Capt. Heath nearly made a highest possible 
score, but spoiled it at the last shot. Details below i 
April IS — 20yd3., stationary target: 
Capt T W Heath 777773 - 38 E Howe , . . ,557756— 35 
Rapid-Fire Rifle Target. 
We have prepared and can supply targets specially designed by 
Mr. William Lyman for his rapid-fire system of shooting. They will 
r>e sent postpaid, the 25yd. size for 15 cents a dozen; the 50yd. size for 
85 cents $ dosen, We ebaU say more about tbem aext week. 
