It’s really Urbanna, but I couldn’t resist adding a sigh of pleasure at the end. Where have all these sweet Virginia port towns been all my Virginia life?

Like Reedville, Irvington and Kilmarnock, Urbanna is a small place with a large footprint, large because its role in the beginning of American history gives it a certain heft. In all these small towns, homes and shops cluster around landings that became docks that became marinas that now lie sparkling in the sun. But before the sailboats and motorboats there were steamers and sailing ships, and the harbors and quays were where business was conducted, not pleasure.

To reach the Urbanna marina, for instance, you walk down Prettyman’s Rolling Road, one of the oldest thoroughfares in America, a historical marker says. The “rolling” was named for how 1000-pound hogbacks full of tobacco were moved from custom house to ships and from there to the motherland more than 3,000 miles away.

I walked instead of rolled. But once down the shaded lane, it was easy to imagine the bustle of yore because of the modern busyness.  It was a glorious late-summer day, and sailors, kayakers and sightseers all gathered at the harbor.

 I watched one sailboat motor slowly down Urbanna Creek on its way to the Rappahannock and, ultimately, the bay. It would be back by nightfall. It wasn’t traversing the Atlantic. But as the water gleamed and a breeze promised smooth sailing, it was easy to imagine otherwise.


(No wonder I like the town. I later read that it means “City of Anne,” which I should have figured out from my ninth-grade Latin. Named not for me, of course, but for England’s Queen Anne, most recently portrayed — and not prettily — in the movie The Favourite.”)