os ‘THE NOTION OF “PEACE AND QUIET” IS RELATIVE, OF COURSE. AMONG US ARE FOLKS ‘who €onsider an anchorage tranquil only if theirs is the only boat init. The arrival of another boat, ¥en if it's the very model of unobtrusiveness, ruins everything. And two boats? Well, forget it. News a bloody beehive. As much as | empathize with that frame of mind, my defi n of = _taNdhlity is alittle more forgiving. Maybe it’s because I tend to measure the places [ go in my boat against the noisy weekday life | leave behind—trucks rumbling and clattering, radios blaring, ~ sirens wailing, people yammering into their cell phones. Compared with all that, a dozen boats sharing a hurricane hole is nothing short of Eden. Furthermore, I'm accustomed to boating with young children aboard, and, as any parent can tell you, when it comes to kids and their content- ons established, I'm here to = by Cruck RovsTer photographs by Sra Jerrota na Star na yrs det of oe, Va, pacdng around te wide at Smatvoot State Part. ppasiz age Michele Swaer, and hr usbend Set, ot Woodbridge, Ve, pating ine Smttwoed Sate Parkon ter 1985 3¢-ot Svoran (top pot); an the 1760 homme of General Wiliam Smaluood at Smavoad State Part. Pesg pages Cana pose tng over Watton Cee; an (ins) a eas leaving Wangan, 0. tor qulter waters ofthe watershed, the upper Potomac—specif- cally, allitle cove on Matawoman Creek, ‘hich isa slighty depth challenged but lovely hidey hole on the Maryland side ofthe river across from Virginia's Occoquan Bay. Years ago, when our kids were younger anid not ‘deeply embarrassed to be in our company, my \wife Cee and [hau taken them there many times, had been one of our favorite Potomac ‘etaways—peaceful and quiet enough for the grownups, but als lively enough to hold the ‘Kids’ interest And last summer, as Cee and | ‘cast about for places to goon High Rati! Floozie, our 6-foot Dora, we remembered that ite spot and resolved to revisit it—to see Fit was the same as eve, and perhaps to conjure a memory or two. ‘Aller the inevitable few delays and ale stant, ‘early on a bright, cool and breezy September ‘morning, we found ourselves pulling out of our hhome slip at James Creck Marina, tucked in ‘behind Washington's Fort McNair at the mouth ‘of the Anacostia River. So0n we had Floazie on the Potomac and pointed downstream, past Old ‘Town Alexangtra, under the mammoth work in progress tat i the new Wilson Bridge, and ‘Past another eye-popping project on the Mary Jad shore—the gargantuan business commes- Cal residertat marina development known a5 [National Harbor, a ful formed port ty hugging 44 Cresiroue Bay Mactan June 2008 below te bridge. The no-wake markers on the south ie ofthe bridge gave us just enough ime fora sling gawk; then we fred up oozie's twin 44 and headed south in earnest. Some 15 nautica miles and thre sweeping siver bends later, the yellow bluff Oceoquan Bay came into view onthe Vega side, teling usthat we'd soon see the geen “51” and, just a couple of miles below that on the opposite Shoe, the wide and inuiing entrance to Matawoman Creek. Unt the late 17h century, this had been the home, asthe ceek’s name ‘sugges of the Mattawoman people (he name, earned means “a place to go pleasant”) “They Were one of many sub-bes ofthe Piscataway Conoy culture that had been pre dominant in what is now Southern Mayland ‘Hunters and fishermen forthe most pat, the Matiawomans and thes elow Pscataways ‘ha a siilar culture to other groups inthe region-—the Delawares, Nanticokes and Powhatan, fr instance—and they spoke a lait of te widespread Agonauian language. ike thee neighbors, they also had frequent ruin with tres fom the noth, specifically tne Susquehannocks, quoi and Senecas. ‘And the ate 17-cetury, was one ofthese confics that brought the Mattwomans’ emise—teped along, no doubt by the insu ofthe European imasion, name smallpox. Nowadays its most US. Nay tritory— «especialy onthe north ie of the creek’ ‘entrance onthe peninsula that some charts ‘dently as Corawalls Neck. There you'l find {he sprawing naval support base that counts among its tenants the Naval Surface WarfareCenter (which explains the long, narrow danger zone a mile or s0 offshore inthe Potomac) The Naty also owns a few ofthe islands in Mattawoman Creek, and has more facies (om the south sie ofthe creek, but we were headed fora different sort of facility on the lower sie, namely the state-owned Sweden Point Marina, which is pat of the surrounding 628-cre Smallwood State Park and what ‘would be our base forthe day's visit. First, though, there would be abit of un- scheduled socializing (which tured out to be the order ofthe day). As we motored slowly past an anchored 32 oot Carver—the center of ‘an idylic sumsmer scene, complete with squeal ing laughing children diving from its swim. platform—one of the two men standing on the alt deck called outto us. “Where are you guys from?” he asked, We told him where we'd ‘come from and how we used to come here ‘with our kid, which led to more cha, which Jed to them inviting us to tie up and visit for ‘ while. The gregarious skipper tuned out to be Bob Pickett, a retired Army colonel from Fredericksburg Va, who has been coming here ‘with his children, and now his grandchildren, Since the late 1980s, The other fellow was his son-in-law, Brian Alexander, father ofthe three aforementioned squealing laughing diving chit ‘en (Samantha, Ethan and Emily). Pickette’s wife Tery and daughter Nina soon emerged from belowdecks, where they'd been taking a _much-deserved break from lfeguard du. “(The Mattawoman] hasn't changed since Bob and I would bring Nina and her sisters there when they were young.” Terry told us, remembering the days when was Nina hersl, ‘nother children, jumping from the boat—a 26-f00t sailboat in those days. Asis 0 often the case among fellow boaters, the conversa tion came easy and we could have sat there and gabbed al day. But, feting the day slip ping through our fingers, Cee and finally thanked the Pickettes, etl, for their hospitality and climbed back aboard Floozie to continue ur exploration. More easy hospitality awaited us atthe ‘Sweden Point Marina gas dock, in the form of ‘marina manager Peggy LeFleur—born in ‘Oklahoma, raised in Texas and as knowledge ‘able about the marina and park as she is full ‘of energy. “This place is a fisherman's dream,” she told us, explaining the dozens of hotrod fishing boas that were beginning to congregate Creswweune Bay Mactan June 2008 45