We don't give a damn...

Sea Scouts

THE RADIO HOST left his microphone in search of a beer and the engineer was asleep at the switch when members of a yacht club from the Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake Bay came on the air. 

Maryland Yacht Club

“We don't give a damn for the state of Maryland,” they sang. “We're from the Eastern Shore.”

I watched this tableau play out during Opening Day at the Maryland Yacht Club one June in the late 1950s.

Delaware as well as pieces of the states of Maryland and Virginia occupy the peninsula that separates the Chesapeake Bay from the Atlantic Ocean. It was built from silt carried down from the Piedmont Plateau over the millennia. Flat and featureless, it was fertile farm land. Its occupants used their boats to fish for crabs and oysters in the months with “r's” and carry produce grown there to Baltimore during the rest of the year.

Plantations dominated the Eastern Shore during antebellum days. Hariett Tubman and Dred Scott were both born their and escaped slavery to make their marks on American history.

Several rivers, notably the Northeast, Chester, Wicomico, Wye, and Choptank, as well as major creeks such as Worten and Onancock, make deep cuts into it. We explored them all during my years sailing with the Sea Scouts from the Baltimore Yacht Club.

Gratitude Marina

One of our most frequent ports-of-call on the Eastern Shore was Rock Hall, Maryland. We tied up at the nearby Gratitude Marina and walked the mile into town to attend the movie show. Films were presented in an old barn. The show began after sunset so that light that stole between the clapboard siding wouldn't distract the audience. The price of admission was just twenty-five cents for which you received a double feature, cartoons, serials, and newsreels. The show was free if you arrived more than a half hour late. The box office was closed by that time. There were no fixed seats. You picked up your folding chair from the stack along the back of the theater when you arrived.

As a group of teenaged boys we were frequently mistaken as a “gang.” Local toughs, thinking that their turf was threatened would sometimes come after us. Fortunately, we were better organized than most gangs and acquitted ourselves well, especially on the road between Gratitude and Rock Hall. I remember several occasions when we had beer cans thrown at us from passing cars. Actually, I thought it was right friendly of them. The beer cans were usually full.

Yes, the Eastern Shore wasn't just a tidewater region, it was full of backwater towns. In fact, I discovered that if I wrote a check on the Eastern Shore, it wouldn't clear my bank for several months.

Crisfield, Maryland

Frequently, when we visited many of the small towns in the company of the fleet from the Baltimore Yacht Club, the local officials would welcome us with open arms. The local volunteer fire department might have their engine at dockside blowing its siren and ringing its bell to make us feel welcome. On one visit to Crisfield, Maryland, we found barrels of beer in ice and steamed crabs waiting for us on the dock. It seems they were politicking for something, nothing that the Sea Scouts could provide, but we enjoyed the treats. 

Bay Bridge

Things began to change there in 1952 when the Bay Bridge opened to traffic. However, most of the motorists were just passing through from Baltimore and Washington on their way to Ocean City, Maryland. They didn't stop frequently enough to bring change to the rest of the region.

Ocean City, MD

Thus, the people of the Eastern Shore have never felt part of the rest of the state and separatist movements have sprung up regularly throughout history. The most recent was in 1995. The more modern proposals have attempted to consolidate the portions of Maryland and Virginia with the state of Delaware which probably makes the most sense.