Smith Island. Population ~340
Aug 11th, 2025 | 11:08 AM
#1
Original Poster
Joined: Nov 2006
Posts: 3,050
Likes: 26
Smith Island. Population ~340
This was not an easy trip report to write. The experience (and the days leading up to the trip) was part Wes Anderson and part Amazing Race, and sometimes both at the same time. The TL;DR though, is that we would return. There are waterways to kayak; and Brown Pelicans to stalk. We slacked, and we’ll be back.
The Preface.
Life and our (sometimes questionable) decision to purchase a circa 1908 farmhouse when we returned from overseas have vied for our attention for the past three years; The Farmhouse has usually won. Add to that, we’re a federal family. I can write that the last several months have been, well, best-to-have-extra-tonic-chilled-for-that-end-of-the-workday-G&T.
What we have not really had since returning stateside, though is a true holiday. There have been long weekends here and there, and a whirlwind overseas work-trip tagalong for me, but nothing truly befitting of the term vacation. This holiday came close. We’re getting there.
We all needed a (sort of) off-the-grid break, so when visits to D.C. by DS and DD overlapped (work and a conference), I plotted as much family time as could be had.
One Week Prior to Island Time
DD arrived ahead of her conference and spent an overnight with us, just long enough to avail herself of my clothes; shoes; vintage tote; jewelry; lotions, potions and notions from my bathroom cabinet; and yes, even perfume. She didn’t like what she’d packed for the conference, apparently, except for her water bottle*.
I will never, ever complain that my daughter and I are the same size (6).
Three Days Prior to Island Time.
DS arrived late into Dulles and was entirely grumpy. He has a 100% remote work agreement and pops into his agency’s HQ every quarter or so for face time, except that the AC wasn’t functioning at his agency and everyone was working virtually, which meant that I had a grumpy 20-something (and his water bottle*) on WFH with me for two days whilst I was trying to condense our island luggage and groceries down as much as possible.
*DH and I have concluded that water bottles are 20-something binkies. Our children were never more than a couple of steps away from a sip of water at any time during their visit.
Two Days Prior to Island Time
DD’s conference had ended, and the four of us gathered in D.C. to celebrate her birthday. She selected Rasika for dinner (an outstanding choice). I decided it would be fun for all of us to spend the night in D.C.—enjoy dinner, grab a cocktail, and not worry about driving home, so I asked one of our dog sitters to spend the night with DDog.
We have a team of “professional” dog sitters for long outings (responsible adults); and a HS student for the easy overnights. The HS Student reads books like, “The History of the Romanovs,” so we weren’t worried there would be a rave at our house and that the bar would be emptied.
Somewhere between the third and fourth courses of my Rasika Tasting Menu, HS Student messaged a photo: “There is a snake climbing up the terrace.” A glance at the photo told me that the snake was the Eastern Rat Snake, an excellent mouser in our parts. The area had received quite heavy rainfall that afternoon, so we just assumed the snake was seeking higher, drier, ground. I messaged HS Student that DH would check on Snake when we returned the next morning.
Dinner
Honestly, one of the best meals I’ve eaten in some time. DS and I each ordered the Tasting Menu. DH ordered Tandoori (“Excellent,” it was pronounced); and DD ordered spicy Chicken Kundapar (her Nanny was Bangladeshi; and she cut her teeth on spicy foods). The waitstaff came by a couple of times to ask DD if the meal was too spicy. I don’t think “too spicy” is possible with DD.
My Classic Curries Medley. (Beef, Lamb, Okra, Lentils)
The Desserts. (The Date and Toffee Pudding was extraordinary.)
Our lodging for the evening was The Tabard Inn, D.C.’s longest continuously operating Inn. I had booked the “Penthouse” suite, not realizing it required walking up two flights of stairs, after DH and I shared a bottle of Austrian Grüner Veltliner with dinner. (Veltliners are highly acidic and balance out the richness of Indian dishes.) The 20-somethings went out for cocktails; we 50-somethings stayed in.
One Day Prior to Island Time
We bid farewell to DS, who was heading elsewhere for a friend’s wedding. Once home, DH went on a lookabout for Snake, discovering that the poor thing had become tangled in the squirrel-proof (but not snake-proof) feeder I had taken down to wash, as well as within some berry mesh I’d left on the terrace. A gentle prod with a stick confirmed Snake was still very much alive.
A call to the wildlife center followed. We, three snake-disliking persons, had to 1) cut the mesh away to free Snake; and 2) put Snake (still entangled in the feeder and some mesh) into a sealed bin so that DH and DD could drive the 40 minutes to the wildlife center, where the team would untangle Snake. Something straight out of The Amazing Race.
Along the way we decided Snake should be named, “Smith.” And so it was.
I remained at home to fret over whether we had overpacked and if we had enough cash and groceries for our 2.5 day getaway. I fretted successfully. Our Airbnb host had overinformed me, and I took it all to heart. Cash was king on the Island; and DeepWoods OFF was our parfum. I packed well.
A note about DDog. Our current DDog is not the same DDog we lived with while overseas. Overseas DDog left this mortal coil in 2021 at the well-traveled age of 14. He never met a Schnitzel he didn’t like.
Our current DDog, whom we rescued when the time felt right is, as was his predecessor, a Hound. To know a Hound is to love a Hound. DDog is an exceptionally well-trained former hunting dog, whose family sadly had to surrender him during COVID. He also came with a touch of anxiety. He wears a calming collar; and we dose him with hemp chews ahead of any “major stress,” like 40 minutes on a ferry boat to our island getaway.
Island Time
Well, damned if DDog didn’t crash on the deck of the ferry, the boat motor’s vibration (and the hemp chewies?) lulling him into slumber. Good boi.
Our Airbnb host met us at the dock in her golf cart, the primary vehicle for tooling about the island. The house? Artsy, boisterous, calm and serene all at once; and with dozens of ducks in the backyard. The host also lives next door and would (unexpectedly) drop in to our rental for something. Very Wes Anderson. This was definitely a place where the three of us could power through all the books we had brought with. Which we did.
DH and I even took afternoon naps. That right there constitutes a vacation, does it not?
The local coffee shop owner had dropped a bag of beans at the (unlocked) house for us. House owner had a grinder and a coffee press. Luxury living.
There’s off the grid. Then there’s off-the-grid with the waterman neighbor who brings caught-that-day and steamed blue crabs to the front porch of your Airbnb for dinner. And then, brings over a stick of butter for your Old Bay steamed corn when he realizes you don’t have any.
Another neighbor (the Island ain’t that big) brought over the Smith Island Cake I had pre-ordered. Smith Island Cake for breakfast is so underrated.
Soft Shell Crab Sammies for lunch each day? Yes, please.
Sunsets? Glorious.
Waterfowl-stalking in the marshes? Outstanding. (Except, I’d not packed my telephoto lens and thus did not “bag the big one,” the Great Blue Heron, with my camera.)
DD and I also took an art workshop with the Airbnb owner, an artist working to build a collective on the Island. We are both rather left-brained, but left the workshop feeling pretty dang proud of our art. (DH and DDog took a napping workshop at the house.)
While on the Island we received word that Smith was fully recovered and would be repatriated into our garden. So long as Smith and I never make eye contact, all will be well.
From an environmental standpoint there is much to be written about Smith Island, which may be entirely submersed in 75 years. From a tourist standpoint I can only write, “Go". The Island is just off-the-grid enough to truly relax; and with island-wide 5G, you can be just enough on-the-grid to post photos of your relaxation on social media to make your friends envious. Which we did, of course.
Thank you for reading.
The Preface.
Life and our (sometimes questionable) decision to purchase a circa 1908 farmhouse when we returned from overseas have vied for our attention for the past three years; The Farmhouse has usually won. Add to that, we’re a federal family. I can write that the last several months have been, well, best-to-have-extra-tonic-chilled-for-that-end-of-the-workday-G&T.
What we have not really had since returning stateside, though is a true holiday. There have been long weekends here and there, and a whirlwind overseas work-trip tagalong for me, but nothing truly befitting of the term vacation. This holiday came close. We’re getting there.
We all needed a (sort of) off-the-grid break, so when visits to D.C. by DS and DD overlapped (work and a conference), I plotted as much family time as could be had.
One Week Prior to Island Time
DD arrived ahead of her conference and spent an overnight with us, just long enough to avail herself of my clothes; shoes; vintage tote; jewelry; lotions, potions and notions from my bathroom cabinet; and yes, even perfume. She didn’t like what she’d packed for the conference, apparently, except for her water bottle*.
I will never, ever complain that my daughter and I are the same size (6).
Three Days Prior to Island Time.
DS arrived late into Dulles and was entirely grumpy. He has a 100% remote work agreement and pops into his agency’s HQ every quarter or so for face time, except that the AC wasn’t functioning at his agency and everyone was working virtually, which meant that I had a grumpy 20-something (and his water bottle*) on WFH with me for two days whilst I was trying to condense our island luggage and groceries down as much as possible.
*DH and I have concluded that water bottles are 20-something binkies. Our children were never more than a couple of steps away from a sip of water at any time during their visit.
Two Days Prior to Island Time
DD’s conference had ended, and the four of us gathered in D.C. to celebrate her birthday. She selected Rasika for dinner (an outstanding choice). I decided it would be fun for all of us to spend the night in D.C.—enjoy dinner, grab a cocktail, and not worry about driving home, so I asked one of our dog sitters to spend the night with DDog.
We have a team of “professional” dog sitters for long outings (responsible adults); and a HS student for the easy overnights. The HS Student reads books like, “The History of the Romanovs,” so we weren’t worried there would be a rave at our house and that the bar would be emptied.
Somewhere between the third and fourth courses of my Rasika Tasting Menu, HS Student messaged a photo: “There is a snake climbing up the terrace.” A glance at the photo told me that the snake was the Eastern Rat Snake, an excellent mouser in our parts. The area had received quite heavy rainfall that afternoon, so we just assumed the snake was seeking higher, drier, ground. I messaged HS Student that DH would check on Snake when we returned the next morning.
Dinner
Honestly, one of the best meals I’ve eaten in some time. DS and I each ordered the Tasting Menu. DH ordered Tandoori (“Excellent,” it was pronounced); and DD ordered spicy Chicken Kundapar (her Nanny was Bangladeshi; and she cut her teeth on spicy foods). The waitstaff came by a couple of times to ask DD if the meal was too spicy. I don’t think “too spicy” is possible with DD.
My Classic Curries Medley. (Beef, Lamb, Okra, Lentils)
The Desserts. (The Date and Toffee Pudding was extraordinary.)
Our lodging for the evening was The Tabard Inn, D.C.’s longest continuously operating Inn. I had booked the “Penthouse” suite, not realizing it required walking up two flights of stairs, after DH and I shared a bottle of Austrian Grüner Veltliner with dinner. (Veltliners are highly acidic and balance out the richness of Indian dishes.) The 20-somethings went out for cocktails; we 50-somethings stayed in.
One Day Prior to Island Time
We bid farewell to DS, who was heading elsewhere for a friend’s wedding. Once home, DH went on a lookabout for Snake, discovering that the poor thing had become tangled in the squirrel-proof (but not snake-proof) feeder I had taken down to wash, as well as within some berry mesh I’d left on the terrace. A gentle prod with a stick confirmed Snake was still very much alive.
A call to the wildlife center followed. We, three snake-disliking persons, had to 1) cut the mesh away to free Snake; and 2) put Snake (still entangled in the feeder and some mesh) into a sealed bin so that DH and DD could drive the 40 minutes to the wildlife center, where the team would untangle Snake. Something straight out of The Amazing Race.
Along the way we decided Snake should be named, “Smith.” And so it was.
I remained at home to fret over whether we had overpacked and if we had enough cash and groceries for our 2.5 day getaway. I fretted successfully. Our Airbnb host had overinformed me, and I took it all to heart. Cash was king on the Island; and DeepWoods OFF was our parfum. I packed well.
A note about DDog. Our current DDog is not the same DDog we lived with while overseas. Overseas DDog left this mortal coil in 2021 at the well-traveled age of 14. He never met a Schnitzel he didn’t like.
Our current DDog, whom we rescued when the time felt right is, as was his predecessor, a Hound. To know a Hound is to love a Hound. DDog is an exceptionally well-trained former hunting dog, whose family sadly had to surrender him during COVID. He also came with a touch of anxiety. He wears a calming collar; and we dose him with hemp chews ahead of any “major stress,” like 40 minutes on a ferry boat to our island getaway.
Island Time
Well, damned if DDog didn’t crash on the deck of the ferry, the boat motor’s vibration (and the hemp chewies?) lulling him into slumber. Good boi.
Our Airbnb host met us at the dock in her golf cart, the primary vehicle for tooling about the island. The house? Artsy, boisterous, calm and serene all at once; and with dozens of ducks in the backyard. The host also lives next door and would (unexpectedly) drop in to our rental for something. Very Wes Anderson. This was definitely a place where the three of us could power through all the books we had brought with. Which we did.
DH and I even took afternoon naps. That right there constitutes a vacation, does it not?
The local coffee shop owner had dropped a bag of beans at the (unlocked) house for us. House owner had a grinder and a coffee press. Luxury living.
There’s off the grid. Then there’s off-the-grid with the waterman neighbor who brings caught-that-day and steamed blue crabs to the front porch of your Airbnb for dinner. And then, brings over a stick of butter for your Old Bay steamed corn when he realizes you don’t have any.
Another neighbor (the Island ain’t that big) brought over the Smith Island Cake I had pre-ordered. Smith Island Cake for breakfast is so underrated.
Soft Shell Crab Sammies for lunch each day? Yes, please.
Sunsets? Glorious.
Waterfowl-stalking in the marshes? Outstanding. (Except, I’d not packed my telephoto lens and thus did not “bag the big one,” the Great Blue Heron, with my camera.)
DD and I also took an art workshop with the Airbnb owner, an artist working to build a collective on the Island. We are both rather left-brained, but left the workshop feeling pretty dang proud of our art. (DH and DDog took a napping workshop at the house.)
While on the Island we received word that Smith was fully recovered and would be repatriated into our garden. So long as Smith and I never make eye contact, all will be well.
From an environmental standpoint there is much to be written about Smith Island, which may be entirely submersed in 75 years. From a tourist standpoint I can only write, “Go". The Island is just off-the-grid enough to truly relax; and with island-wide 5G, you can be just enough on-the-grid to post photos of your relaxation on social media to make your friends envious. Which we did, of course.
Thank you for reading.
Aug 11th, 2025 | 04:10 PM
#3
Joined: Jun 2008
Posts: 31,097
Likes: 0
fourfortravel, thank you so very much for your TR! Although I was born in another state, I grew up on Maryland's Eastern Shore. I attended college in Salisbury with some kids from Smith and Tangier Islands. Your description of the folks you encountered depicted small town and small Island life perfectly. There simply are no strangers. In my new small town near Annapolis we enjoy a winter luncheon series and the original (?) Smith Island cake baker once gave us a lively history of the cake and her confrontation with the IRS!
Your dinner was divine...may all your snakes eat mice. Please take more trip!
Your dinner was divine...may all your snakes eat mice. Please take more trip!
Aug 12th, 2025 | 07:47 AM
#5
Original Poster
Joined: Nov 2006
Posts: 3,050
Likes: 26
Glad y'all enjoyed the report! TDudette, we didn't hear the story about the cake baker and the IRS. Do share!
I forgot to add. While at lunch one day the wait staff confirmed that the small island across from the restaurant was inhabited by 37 goats. At some point, someone brought the goats over on Captain Otis' boat, and he was "spittin' mad" that the goats pooped in his boat. We didn't see the goats, but we did imagine a Wes Anderson version of the Chincoteague Pony Swim, with the goats.
I forgot to add. While at lunch one day the wait staff confirmed that the small island across from the restaurant was inhabited by 37 goats. At some point, someone brought the goats over on Captain Otis' boat, and he was "spittin' mad" that the goats pooped in his boat. We didn't see the goats, but we did imagine a Wes Anderson version of the Chincoteague Pony Swim, with the goats.
Aug 13th, 2025 | 07:56 PM
#7
Joined: Oct 2005
Posts: 74,969
Likes: 50
Loved this report! Starting from that yummy looking dinner in DC and all the rest. The airbnb looks wonderful (as do the blue and soft shell crabs).
You'll be glad you are 'fostering' Smith
He'll keep rats and mice and moles at bay . . .
You'll be glad you are 'fostering' Smith
He'll keep rats and mice and moles at bay . . .
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Aug 14th, 2025 | 10:57 AM
#10
Original Poster
Joined: Nov 2006
Posts: 3,050
Likes: 26
Once again, glad everyone is enjoying the report!
Yes, I agree with y'all that we need to travel more. Though our 1908 Farmhouse had a thorough and well-done renovation in 2003, it's at the 20-year mark and needs a refresh. The previous owner did some heavy lifting with a new roof (albeit not metal) and replaced one of the HVAC units, but the bathrooms are all time capsules that are not in any way retro-chic. We've been playing the, "Do we travel, or do we renovate?" game and The Farmhouse has won every time.
Still, DH are contemplating an actual vacation for next year. Thus far, the contenders are: Albania, Georgia (the country); North Macedonia; and North Vietnam.
Yes, I agree with y'all that we need to travel more. Though our 1908 Farmhouse had a thorough and well-done renovation in 2003, it's at the 20-year mark and needs a refresh. The previous owner did some heavy lifting with a new roof (albeit not metal) and replaced one of the HVAC units, but the bathrooms are all time capsules that are not in any way retro-chic. We've been playing the, "Do we travel, or do we renovate?" game and The Farmhouse has won every time.
Still, DH are contemplating an actual vacation for next year. Thus far, the contenders are: Albania, Georgia (the country); North Macedonia; and North Vietnam.
Aug 14th, 2025 | 10:58 AM
#11
Original Poster
Joined: Nov 2006
Posts: 3,050
Likes: 26
If you like outdoorsy and/or relaxing down time, Smith Island would be perfect. We probably relaxed more on this trip and thus missed stalking the Brown Pelicans, but we can easily return.
Aug 14th, 2025 | 05:35 PM
#12
Joined: Jun 2008
Posts: 31,097
Likes: 0
44trav, if memory serves, the Smith Island cake was a local favorite with the emphasis on "local"... at some point (and I don't remember how), an IRS person found out about the little moneymaker, and asked for some records.
Googling reveals a different story!
https://smithislandcake.com/about.ph...yjsKHlLMjAF2qJ
Googling reveals a different story!
https://smithislandcake.com/about.ph...yjsKHlLMjAF2qJ
Aug 15th, 2025 | 05:07 AM
#13
Joined: Mar 2007
Posts: 21,893
Likes: 0
We live in a rural setting in VT and have lots of outdoorsy options here but I always like to spend time near a big body of water like Chesapeake Bay. We aren't big birders but I would enjoy seeing a Brown Pelican.
And I like Smith Island cake and love crab dinners
Thanks for the Smith Island cake link, TDudette
And I like Smith Island cake and love crab dinners
Thanks for the Smith Island cake link, TDudette
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