Wild Chesapeake

Prohibition Era Cocktails of the Bay

Many of today’s classic cocktails were developed in the gin joints and speakeasies that blossomed during Prohibition. Bartenders developed creative combinations and even more creative names to keep customers saying, “Joe sent me.”

In Baltimore, one of the top destinations for illegal booze was the Owl Bar, at the Belvedere Hotel. The hotel debuted at One East Chase Street on December 14, 1903, and its grand opening was the toast of the social season, drawing tycoons, politicians, socialites, gangsters and more. The party continued (albeit behind closed doors) during Prohibition, thanks in no small part to the rumrunners who made their way up the Chesapeake Bay.

Visit the Owl Bar today and you’ll find this poem embedded in stained glass along the back wall.

A wise old owl sat on an oak

The more he saw the less he spoke The less he spoke the more he heard Why can’t we be more like that wise old bird?”

Bee’s Knees

A Prohibition-era take on the gin sour, the honey may have been added to help hide the off-fl avor of bathtub gin. Honey does not mix well with cold liquids, so for this cocktail, it’s best to prep a syrup in advance, or buy a premade one, available at most fi ne spirits stores.

INGREDIENTS 2 ounces gin ¾ ounce lemon juice, freshly squeezed ½ ounce honey syrup (¼ cup honey dissolved in ¼ cup warm water and then chilled) Lemon twist

Add all ingredients except the lemon twist to a shaker full of ice, then shake. Pour into a coupe glass and garnish with the twist.

The Owl Bar today maintains a classic elegance.

Sidecar

The sidecar was likely invented in France at the end of World War I, but it was popular in speakeasies in the U.S. during Prohibition. Brandy was most popular in the drink’s early days, but today you’ll fi nd it more often made with cognac.

INGREDIENTS 2 ounces cognac or brandy 1 ounce Cointreau or other quality triple sec ¾ ounce lemon juice, freshly squeezed Lemon or orange twist

Add ingredients (except the lemon or orange twist) to a shaker full of ice, then shake. Pour into a coupe glass and garnish with the twist.

WILD CHESAPEAKE

Fishing the Rivahs

Secrets of the Rappahannock and Piankatank

by Chris D. Dollar

Joe Wright of Stafford, Va., catches a blue catfish while fishing off the end of the Port Royal Landing.

Early mornings often bring the promise of better afternoons, especially when salt-tinged breezes temper stifling summer humidity. Recently, I headed south to spend a long weekend exploring several tidewater creeks on Virginia’s western shore. The overall plan this summer was to fish as many tributaries of the lower Piankatank and Rappahannock rivers as possible, whether by skiff, kayak, or wet-wading the shoreline.

On that first foray I packed light, taking only two rods: my two-piece light tackle stick and an eight-weight St. Croix travel fly rod.

One morning, I eased into the tepid waters of Jackson Creek just after dawn. I tiptoed along the creek back, carefully stepping over orphaned oyster shells. Summertime wet wading is a magical thing.

My first half-dozen casts were as ugly as beach traffic. The next dozen were serviceable, and after that I found my rhythm, launching semi-graceful loops over the glassy surface. The foam topwater spit like a mini-hydrant, and just as I eyed a terrapin easing toward the far bank, breaking my concentration, a fish blew up on the fly. I only caught a glimpse of the fish as it breached the creek’s surface, yet the tail slap rang in my ears, mockingly. Speckled trout? Red drum? Rockfish? I couldn’t tell, but the game was afoot.

I quickly refocused, launched the fly again, and this time I didn’t miss the strike. A sporting tussle ensued, and when it was over, I called it a draw between myself and a beautifully spotted puppy drum, letting my piscatorial friend swim away to live another day.

After the sun crested the tops of the loblolly pines, I tied on a chartreuse-over-white Deceiver infused with ample flash. In short order I felt a strike and then the joyful pulse up the fly line as a 19-inch rockfish headed for the open water. Time became irrelevant. Cast after cast, I felt confident I’d score again, imagining the imitation minnow dancing over the shelled bottom like a lost and lonely baitfish.

When the next strike came, it was hardly what I’d call bone-jarring— nothing like the fat-bellied gator trout pushing seven pounds I’d caught years back while gliding across the grass flats off Smith Island. Yet, for

some inexplicable reason this fish was equally satisfying.

Once to hand, I unhooked the fly neatly pinned in the side of its mouth as the fish proudly displayed tiny fangs protruding from its upper jaw. I’d purposely left my phone on shore, thinking it might appease the fish gods. Seeing how the fish’s silvery, iridescent flanks and light green hues accentuated its gorgeous inky black spots in the early light, I questioned my choice.

This little creek at the lower end of what’s called the Middle Peninsula is emblematic of the tidal waters of the lower Piankatank and Rappahannock rivers. There is a robust mix of natural habitat—oyster reefs and grass beds— as well as ample man-made structure with clean water running through and over them. For any angler, these are waters that are too hard to resist. Kind of like my fly was to that 18-inch speck.

Spotted sea trout, red drum, and rockfish are commonly caught in both rivers. You’ll also encounter spot, white perch, kingfish, bluefish, and Spanish mackerel. These gamefish feed on the abundant prey that thrive here: small fishes including peanut bunker, minnows, and anchovies, all of which roam over grass beds and live oyster beds, and around the docks in the creeks where mean water depths are typically no deeper than six to eight feet.

Originating from the Blue Ridge Mountains, the Rappahannock River runs about 195 miles across the Piedmont and onward through the coastal plain to flow into the Chesapeake Bay. It is a tributary steeped in history, from the indigenous peoples to the colonial era through the American Civil War. I was introduced to the Rappahannock two decades ago by Bill Portlock, one of the all-time great educators for the Chesapeake Bay Foundation, who retired last year. On a crisp March day, we spotted dozens of bald eagles; snipe darting in and out of thick stands of wild rice; plus red-winged blackbirds, mallards, and Canada geese—just a few that made our birding list.

By comparison, the Piankatank River is very short (24.4 miles), sandwiched between the Rappahannock and York rivers. Primarily a tidal river, its headwaters meet up with the mouth of Dragon Swamp, a delightful spot to explore and bird/nature watch.

The Rappahannock has benefited from many years of restoration and conservation efforts from many groups. Programs that protect riparian buffers from development, rehabilitate wetlands, and restore oyster reefs have

Rappahannock River Valley National Wildlife Refuge in Richmond County, Va.