The York River and Chesapeake Bay are home because that's where the boat was at. The boat was a gorgeous hand built wooden hull dead rise named "Go-Go". Made for the the shoreline here in Virginia and the tributaries of the Bay, the dead rise drafts very little -- perfect for getting into the shallow waters where the crabs call home.
I think my first real memories are of being on the pier or at the creek with my dad. As a grew older, I spent every waking minute that I didn't have to be at school with him on a boat or something to do with a Blue Crab. I remember every inch of shore line in every creek, every crack between every board on every pier. The York River is home. There's no place I'd rather be ... here on the coast of Virginia. Dad's gone now, but the memories are mine. Even now, each day I cross the York River, I look out and I remember ... every summer day, every sunrise, every crab pot, every eel pot, every net, and every jelly fish sting . . . and treasure it all.