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Chapter Four
October, 2003
October 22, we took on water and
fuel in Hampton, and set off down the Elizabeth River to
the Intracoastal Waterway. This route took us right
past the Navy piers. We’ve never seen so many large,
gray ships in our lives.
There were Navy ships everywhere
along the river, and Navy helicopters flying overhead
constantly. It made us proud of the young men and women
who serve our country aboard these vessels, and
especially proud of our son-in-law, Chip, and the work
he does. Thanks to all of them.
Now we start dealing with the
opening bridges. These “drawbridges” come in several
varieties, but they must each be contacted by radio, and
notified of our request that they open so we can pass
through. Often there are several boats trying to get
through on the same opening, and there’s some milling
around waiting for the bridge to open while trying not
to hit anybody. Sometimes it is so easy, and other
times…
Just a few miles down the Elizabeth
River, we turned off into Deep (Ha!) Creek to take the
cutoff through the Dismal Swamp. About half-way to the
Dismal Swamp Canal, we ran aground. Hard. John, buoyed
by his success in the Chester River, again set out the
kedge anchor. And pulled. And pulled some more.
Unfortunately, he set the kedge in the wrong direction
and dug it in very well (he won’t make that mistake
again!) and ended up abandoning the anchor after digging
in the mud for the better part of an hour. ‘Nuff
said about that.
We locked into the Dismal Swamp
Canal late in the afternoon, and met Robert, the lock
tender. Robert makes a hobby of collecting conch shells
boaters bring him on their way north in the spring. He
“converts” the shells into musical instruments, which
he’ll play for you, if you just ask. We asked. We knew
we couldn’t make it through the whole canal before dark,
so we tied up to a very small landing right at the north
end of the canal. This landing is very well known among
cruisers as “Food Lion Landing”. This spot has the most
convenient provisioning found anywhere on the Waterway.
Literally across the street are a large Food Lion
supermarket, an Eckerd drugstore, a hardware store, and
an auto parts store. To top it off, there’s a nice
family Mexican restaurant right on the dock. Perfect!
It was here we came across Erin and
Fleck on The Alchemist. The Alchemist is
a Bristol 27, with an outboard motor for auxiliary
power, no built-in stove-oven, no hot running water, and
no refrigeration. Erin and Fleck are in their early
20’s, and out on an adventure. What neat kids!
As we were entering the lock at the
beginning of the canal, Erin and Fleck ran aground just
behind us (they draw 4 feet of water), so Sharon went
‘round in the dinghy to see how we could help. As she
was trying to pull then off with the dinghy, Fleck fell
over the side. Sharon and Erin laughed, and it must
have upset Fleck, because he sputtered that he was hurt
(he’d dislocated his shoulder), and could have easily
drowned. Erin reminded him that he could just as easily
have walked, as the water was less than 4 feet deep!
Anyway, we had a very nice time getting to know the two
of them at dinner in the Mexican restaurant that night.
The Dismal Swamp is beautiful. We
were up and away before 7:00 the next morning, and had
the entire canal to ourselves. For those of you who
don’t know, the canal was dug in 1804 for commercial
purposes. Today it is a National Landmark, and is
maintained by the Army Corps of Engineers for
recreational purposes. The canal itself is very narrow
and shallow, and in places it seems as if the trees are
going to meet overhead (we did hit one tree with our
mast). It is quite an introduction to the wilderness
we’ll encounter along the Intracoastal Waterway. But it
was very cold that morning; frost was reported not very
far away.
That evening, we pulled into
Elizabeth City, North Carolina. What an unexpected
treat that was. Not only does the town offer free
overnight dockage for transient (new word for us)
yachts, but they have the Rose Buddies, too. The Rose
Buddies started many years ago, when two local gentlemen
visited the transiting yachts, and brought a rose to
each female traveler. The rose was meant to remind
visitors to “stop and smell the roses”. Today, whenever
there are 4 or 5 visiting yachts in town, the Rose
Buddies show up and throw a Wine and Cheese Party for
all the visitors. Gratis. We met all the crews of the
visiting yachts, and will continue to meet up with them
as we continue “down the road.”
Next day, October 24, we were up at
dawn and joined the parade of boats headed south. We
motorsailed Albemarle Sound and the Alligator River,
anchoring that night at the start of the canal linking
the Alligator and Pungo Rivers. We arrived in time for
Sharon to make an absolutely delicious chicken pot pie.
Man, this is livin’!
As we moved through that canal next
morning, Sharon looked ahead and warned John to be sure
to miss that large floating log up ahead (the canal is
filled with them, after Hurricane Isabel). But the log
seemed to be moving sideways to the current. It was a
BEAR! The bear was swimming from one side of the canal
to the other, right in front of our boat. He scrambled
up onto the bank and disappeared into the brush, just as
we came up to him. What a sight!
By Sunday afternoon we were
approaching Beaufort, North Carolina, we motored along a
long section of the “Ditch” lined with some of the
strangest houses we’ve seen in quite a while.
Everything from model lighthouses and artificial beaches
to a plaster menagerie to someone’s idea of a Bermuda
house. As we entered Beaufort from the Newport River,
the dolphins appeared for the first time. And I mean
“appeared”. There must have been 20 or so of these
sleek mammals swimming all around the boat. Wonderful.
Beaufort is a nice, small, coastal
town with a rich sea-going history. Historical markers
are on most of the houses down by the waterfront. We
spent 2 ˝ days here, making new friends and finding out
more about the journey ahead. Beaufort is also a major
jumping-off spot for sailors heading for the Caribbean.
Many of our new friends were making this trip; we’ll
hope to catch up with them later in the season. Not
much else of note for our time in Beaufort, save a
delicious shepherd’s pie from Sharon. Yum!
We anchored in a nice creek on the
south side of Beaufort. In the first mile or so, the
creek is lined on the north side by the city docks. We
anchored up from them a bit. There is just room for one
boat at a time to anchor in this part of the creek, as
the channel must be kept clear for the commercial
fishing fleet who use it as their highway to the sea.
There is quite a tide running all the time, and we had
to figure on a 2 knot current which reversed every six
hours. That means two anchors; one upstream, one
downstream. On the morning of the 29th, we
awoke to a violent thunderstorm at 4:00 a.m. Our wind
gauge read 46 knots (about 50 mph). We were holding
just fine, but the boat behind us dragged both his
anchors. We were a bit concerned, as he was heading
right for us. As it turned out, he dragged out into the
middle of channel, up the creek past us, and back into
line with all the other boats. He almost hit us, but
Sharon was alert, fended off, and saved us some
considerable damage. (I’m sure he isn’t insured.)
Faced with the prospect of pulling up and resetting both
anchors in the dark, we decided to get underway, and
were off and going by 6:00 a.m.
Next day, we motorsailed right
through the Camp LeJeune Marine Base. Fortunately for
us, the marines were not using the artillery range that
fronts on the Intracoastal Waterway that day, but we
could clearly see the targets and the pock marks on
them. After anchoring in among the marines, we moved on
the next day to Wrightsville Beach.
Once we got into Wrightsville Beach
proper (we anchored in a pool right behind the surfing
beach), we thought we’d arrived in Florida. Beautiful
wide sand beaches, surfers and sunbathers, condos, and
some very impressive homes along the water. (To be
truthful, it reminded John of Long Beach Island, NJ
about 30 years ago.) But WARM! Ah, now this is what we
came for.
The only problem with Wrightsville
beach is the provisioning: we walked about 3 1/2 miles
each way to the supermarket. The “to” part wasn’t so
difficult, but the “back” trip with $200-worth of
groceries is another story. But we made it just fine
with our little handy-dandy, fold-up pull cart.
A short ride down the “ditch” is
Southport, North Carolina. Here we met fellow cruisers
Angie and Adrian with their three children: Christina
(10), Luke (8) and Paul (16 months!). This cruising
family has been at it for three years, and are about to
return home for family and work, but they’ve sure had a
heck of a good time. We shared an afternoon with them,
picking their brains for still more information about
what lies ahead.
Southport is such a neat little
town, we decided to stay an extra day and go to church,
it being Sunday and all. But Saturday night was truly
fun, too.
First, we were invited over to a
neighboring boat for cocktails, and met the greatest two
guys, Fabe and Don. These two guys were bringing Fabe’s
trawler south to meet up with their wives. Each of
these two had spent 10-12 years doing exactly what
Sharon and I are embarking on. They both spent a lot of
time in the Mediterranean, where they met some years
ago. Now in their mid-70’s, they’ve given up the sails,
but they’re still boating.
What a nice find!
Then we went to a street dance. It
was the season-ending party thrown by the local
dock-side restaurant on the evening of the last regatta
of the year. Free food and drink, and a “Jimmy Buffet”
like band. We went over after dinner on the boat and
had a great time.
The trip forward took us right
through Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. This part of the
Waterway gives it the nickname of “The Ditch”. It’s
long and straight. We don’t get to see much of the golf
courses, but a few do front on the Waterway. Only they
look over the canal, so when we look up, we don’t
see much. Not much, except the overhead tramway that
takes golfers to the Intracoastal Waterway Golf Club.
Golfers park their cars on one side of the canal, and
take this tramway over the canal to the clubhouse and 1st
tee. Amazing!
After leaving Myrtle Beach, we
anchored in a nice little “jug-handle” off the Waccamaw
River. The Waccamaw is reportedly one of the prettiest
stretches of the Waterway, and we found this anchorage
just lovely, surrounded by cypress trees and thick
undergrowth. Just us and one other boat.
In the morning, we slept rather
late (7:00 a.m.), and got off to a slow start. It was a
bit foggy, but we figured we could handle it and
besides, it will burn off in a few minutes. WRONG! The
fog was so thick we couldn’t see the way ahead at all,
just barely make out the tree along the banks at the
sides of the river, about 50 feet away. Other than
that, nothing. Luckily, we have radar, and we were
picking our way down the river at a VERY slow pace, when
a trawler came along and asked if he could pass. It
seemed his visibility was better than ours because he
was so high in the air, and we were so low on the
water. Whatever the case, he slowed down and allowed us
to follow him through the fog (we figured if he hit
anything, we could always stop) for about an hour until
the fog lifted. Diva will always be remembered
for their consideration and thoughtfulness.
The Waccamaw is, indeed,
beautiful. Spanish moss hangs from the cypress trees
and live oaks along both banks, and very few homes are
seen on this stretch of river. It turned into a lovely
day. Long (60 miles!), but lovely.
Two days later we arrived in
Charleston. Now this is some city. Three days worth.
We took tours, walked the town, had a wonderful dinner
downtown, and got haircuts. Wow, this just gets better
and better. (You’ve no idea how good the haircuts
felt!) We are so in love with Charleston, we took way
too many photos, so I’ll spare you the text, and let the
pictures speak for themselves. We took a carriage ride
tour, complements of the time-share pitch we sat through
for the “goody basket”.
While there, we did some house
shopping for Sharon’s sister, Debbie, and her husband,
Bob. They’ve mentioned the possibility of moving to
Charleston, and we found several properties that just
might meet their requirements.
We left Charleston early in the
morning of November 9, heading for Savannah. We needed
to get to Savannah so we could attend our niece’s
wedding. Laura Martin is being married outside Atlanta
on the 15th, so we’ll leave the boat
somewhere near Savannah and drive to the wedding. We’re
really looking forward to seeing all the Martin clan
(save one, who has to go to school that day). Back in
Charleston, a cold front came through the area during
the night, and we gave up 87-degree weather on Friday,
for low 50’s on Sunday. And I mean COLD! And windy
(over 25 knots). But we survived, and enjoyed the trip
anyway. We ended up anchored up Broad Creek in Hilton
Head Island Tuesday morning. Here we ran across our
friends Michael and Marybeth on Madeline. Well!
So much for the “wilderness” part of our trip. Hilton
Head is lovely, but very built up. We found a secure
place to anchor the boat, made arrangements to pick up
the rental car, and off we go. More on that trip,
later.
A Bientôt!
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