Those of us who live here know that the land between the Chesapeake Bay and Atlantic Ocean is a magical place. From outdoor adventures to cultural attractions, playing in the sand In Ocean City, Maryland to sailing on the Chesapeake Bay, fine dining to crab feasts, this really is The Land of Pleasant Living.

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If Hurricane Earl cooperates and moves quickly past us while staying out to sea, it will be great weather for the annual Hard Crab Derby in Crisfield and the Skipjack Race on Deal Island this weekend.

For me, these two events define the Eastern Shore. It’s not just that these two icons of the Chesapeake are being celebrated. It’s also that it’s happening at the places and by the people where they belong. To borrow a term from the organic food world, these celebrations are ‘heirloom.’ No outside management firm staging a commercial show, no big ad campaign, no corporation co-opting the identity, no headline music groups putting on a concert that has nothing to do with the event. Nope. It’s all done by local volunteers by and for their community. That hometown vibe envelopes the visitors. If you care enough to make the trip, you are welcome at the party.

The Crab Derby is pure fun. If you’ve ever dreamt of owning and training a fine racing animal, here’s your chance. For a small fee, you pick a crab from a bushel freshly caught that morning, name it, and enter it in the races. The watermen daub the racing number on the carapace before putting it into another basket. Done. Having spent as much as two days wading through the paperwork of major horse shows, this is the way it ought to be.

The Governor’s Cup, featuring crabs sponsored by the Chief Executives of other states is at 2:00. Every now and then, someone tries to slip in a ringer, like the time the Alaskans shipped in a king crab, figuring that the sheer size of it would create an advantage. But it couldn’t fit into the starting gate and was eliminated.

But that’s like the preliminary races on Preakness Day. The big event starts on Saturday at 2:30. Heats are ‘run’ on a large platform that’s slightly angled to give the crabs some incentive to slide, walk, and crawl to the bottom. If you remember the Smother’s Brothers, you’ll be singing the chorus of “Crabs Walk Sideways,” a song about unrequited love between a crab and a lobster. You’ll also be listening to a lot of good-humored insults the local watermen toss at each other regarding the quality and abilities of their respective entries.

After that, you can watch fingers fly as the professional crab pickers show just how quickly someone can scrape every scrap of sweet meat from a cooked crustacean. Rumor has it the losers of each heat end up here after a rendezvous with a steamer and Old Bay, but that’s not the case. Local crabbers haul up crabs with their racing number still visible until their next molting.

The 50th annual Skipjack Race is Labor Day morning at Deal Island. If there is anything more elegant than a skipjack gracing the Bay with her presence, let me know. Seeing just one is a gift; seeing a small fleet of them is a treasure. It’s a whisper of the Bay’s history, remembering when hundreds of the sleek schooners harvested the bounty of the Chesapeake. The day starts with the Blessing of the Fleet at 8:30, followed by the race at 9:30. It doesn’t last long. The schedule says by 10 o’clock or so, the skipjacks will be returning to the dock.

There will be other contests at both places: skiff races, arm wrestling, boat docking and a swim race, as well as all of the other events that go along with the last big party of the summer. But those are sideshows. The weekend – and the Bay -- belong to the blue crab and skipjack.

There are few better ways to spend a summer afternoon than to linger over a meal and drinks by the water. One of the best spots to relish this is the Island House Restaurant in Wachapreague, VA.

Wachapreague calls itself “The Little City by the Sea,” but that’s such a misnomer. This is a peaceful hamlet overlooking the vast salt marshes and barrier beach islands. There’s no boardwalk, no souvenir shops, no ice cream stores, no rental mopeds. Just a few quiet streets, the wind across the water, and the endless, tranquil views. It’s recognized as a Biosphere Reserve by the United Nations, one of the last large wetland habitats in the world.

The Island House takes advantage of all of this. It sits on and over the water. Charter boats putter past the outside deck. Seagulls perch on the railing, alternately watching for snacks in the water or dropped food on the deck. The tides running to their timetable makes the high reeds waver along the channels through the salt marsh. Time seems to stop. Lingering and savoring are the only way to dine here.

As you might expect, the menu is seafood oriented. In addition to the set menu of crab cakes, shrimp, stuffed flounder, fried clam strips, fried oysters, and fresh market fish, they have the ‘you catch, we cook’ option for visiting anglers. They are also kind to land-lubbers, with Delmonico and Flat Iron steaks, Angus burgers, and Caribbean chicken. On weekends, they offer slow-cooked Prime Rib, baby back ribs, and traditional Eastern Shore kettle fried chicken and clam fritters.

The afternoon I was there, I opted for the Cedar Island Seafood Salad. (The Island House was originally a hotel & restaurant on Cedar Island in the early 1900’s. In spite of its less-than-exciting-slogan “A common sense resort for common sense people,” it thrived until it was washed away in the hurricane of 1933, the same storm which created the Ocean City Inlet.)

Big chunks of Backfin crab, shrimp, and scallops arrived on a serious salad of mixed greens. There was a little ramekin of cocktail sauce, but even better was the ramekin of Old Bay, a very nice touch. Sprinkle on the salad or dip each forkful into the spices. Then wash it down with iced tea or beer. In addition to the usual, mass-produced brews, Island House has Clipper City and Carolina Blonde in bottles and Skipjack Amber (Anheuser-Busch’s beer for the mid-Atlantic) and Flying Dog Wheat on Draught.

The nicest thing about an afternoon in Wachapreague is that there’s no pressure to ‘go’ anywhere or ‘do’ anything. Just let the rhythm of the tides and marshes surround you and just ‘be.’ And the deck of The Island House is the perfect place to do it.