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Issue Date: Chesapeake Bay Magazine - May 2008
FEATURE DESTINATION: Tappahannock on My Mind | Just an old sweet song--and 35 miles of river--put this small Rappahannock town on the list of favorite cruises.
by Jody Argo Schroath
photographs by Starke Jett
This was me, sailing my boat and singing: Come on, Bill, let's take them for an old country
rock. / Let's go back down on the Rappahannock, down Tappahannock way.
/ Whip it, Bill, while everybody rocks. The song is Bill Moore's early
blues composition "Old Country Rock," but my rendition of it  could not, alas, have been counted in any way a success, since I am incapable
of carrying a tune. However, I thought maybe Moore's ghost would be
okay with it because (a) I was sailing alone and therefore not subject
to mutiny, and (b) I was in fact sailing up the Rappahannock on my way
to visit Tappahannock, Va.
Moore,
who had been a barber in Tappahannock, was also a leading bluesman of
the East Coast or Piedmont variety. He recorded this song and five
others of his own making for Paramount Records in Chicago in the winter
of 1928. It's a recording that is now treasured by early blues
collectors. In 2005, 54 years after he died, Moore got a historical
marker of his own, placed along U.S. Route 17, near where his
barbershop once stood. Bill Moore is just one of a fistful of
intriguing things about this small town with the quadrisyllabic name on
the banks of the quadrisyllabic river.
So,
as I said, I was singing to myself and sailing along, holding a
generally northwest course in a generally southwest breeze. I had
plenty of time to sing, since Tappahannock is about 35 miles upriver
from Stingray Point at the mouth of the Rappahannock. Tappahannock has
been around for a longish time, not counting its many, many centuries
as a Native American settlement. English-settler-wise, though, it is
nearly as old as you can get. Captain John Smith slept here--at least
he tried to,
but
was immediately given the bum's rush by the area's highly annoyed
occupants. A few decades later, the colonists returned the favor in
spades, pushing out the Indians, and the area became English, first
under the appellation Hobbs His Hole, named for trader Jacob Hobbs and
his anchorage. (That "His" in the middle of Hobbs His Hole is just the
old-school way of making a possessive, by the way, like "the dog his
dinner.") Then the name was changed to New Plymouth and,finally, in
1705, back to the name Smith had written on his map--Tappahannock, or
"town on the rise and fall of water." Rappahannock meaning apparently
"rise and fall of water." Tapp instead of Rapp, I mused dreamily in the
warm sun. Rapp, Tapp . . . hmmm.
Here
I am sailing and singing: When ev'ry stock you take is making money /
When ev'ry heart you break / Is such a cinch, it's funny / Careful,
Sonny / Rap-tap, rap-tap . . . on wood. No, a historical marker to Cole
Porter is not another interesting thing about Tappahannock.
Nevertheless, it wouldn't have hurt Tappahannock to do some rapping,
tapping on wood. Like dozens of other strategically placed settlements
on the Chesapeake and its tributaries, Tappahannock by the mid-18th
century was a bustling center for trade, with ships stopping on their
way up and down the river. But like many of the other early centers for
trade, business dropped off as natural resources dwindled and overland
routes developed. Pretty soon, the passage of time, like commerce,
slowed to a trickle; and Tappahannock, like Rip van Winkle, pretty much
dozed through the next couple of hundred years.
It's
a long way to Tappahannock / It's a long way to go . . . As the sun
grew warmer and I got sleepier, it seemed to me that dozing for a few
years was not altogether a bad idea. I was making some progress,
though. I had passed the Corrottoman River, then the town of Urbanna,
Va., then Belle Isle State Park. As I sailed on, the dozens of boats
that had flocked near the mouth of the Rappahannock dropped behind me,
until by the time I reached Farnham Creek I was all alone. Not much of
anybody makes the trek up to Tappahannock by sail these days--not only
is the distance substantial, but the channel gets narrow for tacking
and the current is often stronger than the wind.
Finally,
the tiny inlet of Muddy Gut slipped by to port, and then Totutskey
Creek to starboard. I stopped singing and sat up straight in my seat
because right about Lowery Point the water on either side of me had
gotten thinner than a Bryant Park model during Fashion Week. I started
the engine and gave up my career as the Rappahannock's first lady of
song. I was nearly there. The U.S. Route 360 bridge, which connects the
Northern Neck with the Middle Peninsula, was only about three miles
ahead. Now I also began keeping a close lookout for the vestigial
remnants of another of Tappahannock's intriguing points of interest.
And I found it, just outside the channel, about a mile past flashing
green "29".
For
25 years, from 1924 to 1949, the most striking thing about Tappahannock
was that it had a 273-foot wooden ship grounded just offshore. The
ship, the Caponka, had been built in Portland, Ore., in 1918 in a
world-record 49 days to help in America's supply effort during World
War I. Unfortunately for her, however, the war ended a mere seven
months later. In 1920, after only 52 days of active service, she was
mothballed with 500 other members of the wooden fleet on the James
River. But unlike most of her sisters, who were eventually taken up the
Potomac and scuttled in Mallows Bay, the Caponka was purchased and
taken to Reedville, Va., where her engines were removed for use in the
menhaden fleet. Then she was purchased again and taken to her new
owner's home of Tappahannock--where she ran aground about halfway
between Jones Point and Hoskins Creek. It was here that she spent the
rest of her inglorious career as a blot on the local landscape. But she
was an interesting blot, and something of a local attraction. In fact,
many residents felt that having a 273-foot wooden boat of uncertain
derivation sitting offshore set their town apart from other,
less-interesting towns. And when she burned in 1949--over two
spectacular days, residents recall--many were sorry to lose their local
landmark. A section of her charred hull still breaks the surface of the
water.
So
much for shipwrecks and whimsy, though, it was now time to come to
grips with Tappahannock's shortcomings as a destination--no entirely
satisfactory place to drop the hook. [See Cruiser's Digest.] Since the
wind was still clipping along smartly, I opted for weather-friendly
Hoskins Creek. After following the dredged channel inside, I edged out
of the way until the lack of depth became alarming and then quickly
toppled the CQR overboard. A short dinghy hop to the fishing dock, and
I was ashore.
Now
that I had Tappahannock firmly under foot, I had a couple of hours of
daylight left to play with and a choice to make. Walking up from the
dock, I passed White's Home and Auto (which carries a fair number of
boating and fishing supplies), a gas station/fish store and a seafood
restaurant/fish store before reaching the main highway, U.S. Route
17/360. (This took me 60 seconds. In a mild and entirely temporary
attack of obsessive-compulsive behavior, I actually timed how long it
took me to get from one place to another.) Here I had to choose. I
could turn right and go into the historic section of town (10 minutes),
visit the library (15 minutes) and then find a place for dinner (1
minutes, 3 minutes or 5 minutes), or I could turn left and enter the
world of fast food, clothes shopping, Lowe's and Wal-Mart. Of course, I
turned right. No, just kidding. I turned left, but only because I
needed AA batteries. Besides, I was meeting a friend the next day to
take the walking tour downtown, so why spoil it? The point is not so
much that in Tappahannock there is history to the right and Wal-Mart to
the left, but that both are within only a few minutes' walk--an ideal
situation for boaters, who have to depend on their own 10 toes for
hunting up culture as well as creature comforts.
After
securing the AAs and poking about the shops for a bit, I retraced my
steps and headed for Lowery's Restaurant, which has been serving food
in Tappahannock for a mere 70 years, ever since Wesley and Lorelle
Lowery opened a lunch counter in 1938. Lowery's remains a family
business and a local institution. It even has three separate parking
lots and nearly as many parking spaces as Wal-Mart. It's on the main
highway, too--but in the cultural direction. I dined (gorged might be a
more appropriate word) on crabcakes, hushpuppies and sweet tea, then
retired to Hoskins Creek and a night onboard.
The
following morning, over coffee and fresh muffin tops at Java-Jacks
Coffee House (10 minutes), my friend Kathy Hubbard and I planned our
trip through Tappahannock history, which fortunately had already been
done for us at www.tappahannock.us. All we had to do was follow the map
we had printed out and read the history bits aloud to the other's
annoyance. (A tour brochure is also available at the Essex County
Museum on Water Lane for those who like to read silently.) The tour
starts with Beale Memorial Baptist Church, which was the courthouse in
1728--though it looks suspiciously Greek Revival now--and then moves on
to the customshouse, an early 19th-century building that sits on a lot
once owned by prosperous merchant Archibald Ritchie. An interesting
thing here is that Ritchie, who thought the Stamp Act was a jolly good
idea, was the target of local independence rabble-rousers like the Lees
and four brothers of George Washington, who hated the Stamp Act and
thought the jolly good idea would be to tar and feather Ritchie.
Apparently, they thought better of it because they never did. Ritchie's
actual house is another block up from the river on Prince Street and is
now an attorney's office. Its interior is . . . in Delaware.
Specifically, it is in the Tappahannock and Essex Rooms at the
Winterthur Museum near Wilmington. Don't ask me why, though I'd guess
it had something to do with piles of du Pont money. The oldest house on
the tour is Scots Arms Tavern, which dates to 1680 and is now a private
home.
Eventually,
the tour wanders down Water Lane to take in several majestic buildings
at St. Margaret's School, an Episcopal girls boarding and day school.
Now, if you ask me why Tappahannock, an unprepossessing town of only
3,000 inhabitants dripping wet, has a clearly prosperous private girls
school nestled comfortably in its midst, that I can tell you. It's on
account of the sunrise. How do I know that? Because I went into St.
Margaret's Hall (stop number 12 on the walking tour) to talk with the
head of school, Margaret Broad. She explained that back in the 1930s
the Diocese of Virginia sent a delegation to find a location for a
school somewhere in the middle section of Virginia. While visiting
Tappahannock, the committee saw the sun rise over the Rappahannock
River and it knocked their Episcopal socks off. This is where the
school will be, they decided then and there. The sunrise over the
Rappahannock has been knocking the socks off generations of prospective
students and their parents ever since. Broad swears this is a true
story, though I did make up the part about the denominational socks.
"Come
and look at this," Broad said to me, and I followed her out of the
administration building and into the dining hall, which is all rounded
glass several stories tall and feels for all the world like the command
bridge of the Queen Mary (or what I imagine it to be). "How would you
like to eat all of your meals in front of this view?" she asked. And,
looking out on the Rappahannock, with the bridge arcing about a mile
over the river to the left and marsh-edged riverbank as far as you
could see to the right, I felt compelled to keep a close eye on my own
socks, and it wasn't even sunrise.
Broad,
a lifelong sailor, admits that the Tappahannock section of the
Rappahannock is tough sledding for sailors. She and her husband David
have sailed and chartered all over the world, but here they have given
the sport up in favor of a pontoon boat. "Having sailed all over, I can
say that this is one of the most beautiful places in the world," she
said. "[The creeks] are the area's greatest charm. You are truly alone
with nature. Up the creeks, you are surrounded by reeds, with no sound
but the birds, and only the sun shining down you."
The
160 students at St. Margaret's make good use of the river, too,
especially with their new three-season crew program. And each year,
during River Days, students spend time at the river's edge, learning to
take water samples, to identify native species of plants and animals,
and to enjoy the water resource that flows by their front door.
Like
many other small towns on the Bay, Tappahannock is finally turning its
attention back to the river, as well. I left Hubbard to finish the
tour, while I walked over to David Broad's office on Jeannette Street,
backing up to Hoskins Creek (6 minutes). Broad, a twice-transplanted
Englishman who grew up in France (where he and Margaret met while she
was teaching there), is now very much rooted in Tappahannock's civic
life. He was part of the group that organized the town's big annual
summer shindig: Rivahfest. Now in its sixth year, the event, which will
be held June 21 this year, draws thousands of visitors and a lot of
boats--largely powerboats, pontoon boats and kayaks. Increasingly,
David Broad said, organizers of Rivahfest are trying to incorporate
river-based events. This year, plans are in the works for a raft race,
a boat show and boat rides. "We're also looking at putting a water taxi
service from the marina to the dock at St. Margaret's."
Another
of David Broad's projects, the ongoing Main Street Program, is
advocating the construction of a city pier. "We want to put
Tappahannock back on the water to welcome visitors from the river," he
said. Although it's a small town, he continued, it has a lot to offer
boaters. "The whole population of Essex County is only 8,000, but we
are the market place for 60,000 people from eight counties. That's why
we have such a wide variety of businesses."
I
walked back to Duke Street (7 minutes) and found my friend Kathy trying
to decipher a typically time-damaged headstone in the graveyard next to
St. John's Episcopal Church. "Stop!" I cried. "Enough culture, let's
shop!" And we proceeded to sample every antiques store, gift shop and
gallery we could find from A to Z, and including A to Z Antiques, Nadji
Nook, Mayhew's, Queen Street Ltd., Coffman's and a lot
more--Tappahannock is for some reason (don't know why) a veritable
hotbed of antiques shops. We put the finishing touches on the whole
shopping shebang at Hoskins Creek Table Co., presided over by John
Vaughan, who used to just sell tables, but now makes them as well.
As
we emerged from that shop with yet more packages, we saw that good
fortune had put us only about 60 seconds away from Riverbank Cafe and
Seafood. We were so hungry we made it there in under 45. More crabcakes
for me, fried clam strips ("better than Howard Johnsons") for Kathy and
a great heap of french fries for mutual plunder. We went from hungry to
immobilized in minutes. I was nearly, but not quite, too full to waddle
down to T n' L BBQ (3 minutes) to put in my order with Jimmy and Linda
Taylor for tomorrow's lunch on the rivah (sorry, it's the law to write
it like that down heah). While Kathy returned to Kinsale with all our
loot, I secured a heap of barbecued pork ribs to go. Yes, I know, the
Coast Guard disapproves of eating ribs while steering a boat, but I
figured I'd have plenty of time to wash myself and the cockpit down
before I reached the mouth of the Rappahannock.
Ribs
in hand, I returned to the boat, where I watched the Rappahannock
cruise boat Captain Thomas return to its dock on Hoskins Creek and then
a tug nudge its barge up to the Perdue granary. Finally, and humming
quietly to myself, I watched the sun set over busy U.S. Route 17/360
(not a sight that would have attracted many school committees,
perhaps). I dove down into the icebox for a very cold bottle of ale and
gloried in my discovery of Tappahannock as a boating destination--even
for a sailor. In the immortal words of the Trade Winds' surf classic:
ooh, ooh, ooh, ahh, ahh, ahh . . . New York's a lonely town / When
you're the only surfer boy around . . . ooh, ooh, ooh, ahh, ahh, ahh .
. .Tappahannock's a lovely town / When you're the only sailor girl
around . . . ooh, ooh, ooh, ahh, ahh, ahh. Fade.
Cruiser's Digest:Tappahannock, Va.
Options
for anchoring at Tappahannock are limited, but they do exist. June
Parker Marina lies just on the other side of the bridge and has limited
space for transients but no fuel. You also have to be able to clear the
bridge's 50 feet of vertical clearance. Look for local red "2" and then
follow the local markers, proceeding with an abundance of caution if
you have any draft to speak of. If the wind is not an issue,
shallow-draft boats can drop the hook near the rough boat ramp at the
foot of Prince Street, which leads you straight into historic downtown
Tappahannock. Study the chart carefully and keep a sharp eye out here;
there are lots of submerged pilings from former bridges and a history
book's worth of ruined wharfs. If all that sounds too daunting, Hoskins
Creek, just downriver from downtown, has a dredged channel to allow
barges and tugs access to the substantial Perdue granary inside. Look
for flashing green "1" to find the entrance to the channel. Once
inside, the trick is to find a pocket of deep water outside the channel
where you can drop the anchor. I have been told by local residents that
you can also anchor just outside Hoskins Creek in an adjacent small
cove--being ever vigilant of the depth--but I haven't tried it. Inside
or out, you can then dinghy to the public fishing dock and boat ramp.
Because of Tappahannock's compact size, any of these three options
allows easy access on foot to all parts of town. And if you have a
shallow-draft boat, you're in like Jake.
MARINAS
June Parker Marina
(804-443-2131; rivahmarine@rivnet.net) Call ahead to inquire whether
transient slips are available; depth of channel and slips four-foot
MLW, but may vary; gas only; ship's store.
Garretts Marina/Harborside Storage, Bowler's Wharf. (www.garrettsmarina.com; www.harbor
sitestorage.com)
Shallow-draft vessels only; call 804-443-2573 to inquire whether
transient slips are available; call 804-443-0190 for repairs; gas only;
ship's store.
RESTAURANTS
The
restaurants mentioned in the story are in the "cultural" direction
(north) from Hoskins Creek and all are along U.S. Route 17/360 (Church
Lane). There other many other good restaurants in town too.
Java Jacks Coffee House (804-443-5225) Wi-Fi.
Lowery's Seafood Restaurant (804-443-2800; www.lowerysrestaurant.com).
Riverbank Cafe & Seafood, at Hoskins Creek (804-443-2002).
T n' L BBQ (804-443-5959).
BED AND BREAKFAST
Essex Inn, 203 Duke Street (804-377-3982; www.essexinnva.com).
JUST ONE MORE INTRIGUING STORY
One
final interesting event in the life of Tappahannock. This one you might
remember because it even made the network news. On Christmas Day, 2003,
Tappahannock was placed on high alert, doubling its usual holiday
police patrol from one to two, after the town was alerted by the FBI
that federal eavesdroppers had picked up unspecified chatter that may
have sounded like "Tappahannock" or "Rappahannock." Also on that day,
state highway patrol officers drove through town a little more often,
and, CNN reported, a few local citizens scrutinized their fellow diners
at McDonald's just a little bit more carefully. Happily, nothing ever
came of it, and life in Tappahannock went along just as pleasantly as
ever.
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