A Windless Water Wander To St. Augustine
Once again the arbitrary and capricious wind gods forced us to motor the overnight, 150 mile passage from Savannah to St. Augustine. Or at least the gods withheld the wind until we arrived at the notorious St. Augustine inlet. Just as the sun was peeking over the horizon, the wind rose to 15, 18 and then 20+ knots. The wind was out of the north and normally would be great for a downwind sail. However, it was not great for entering an inlet described by Reed's Nautical Almanac as "....[one] of the most dangerous inlet channels on the Atlantic coast....[That] should be avoided at all costs, except in calm conditions and with local knowledge. Strangers should not attempt passage at St. Augustine...." We had been through the St. Augustine inlet several times before but always in calm conditions. The shoals shift here, sometimes from day to day, and the buoys aren't even located on the charts! Even on calm days, breakers line each side of the channel. Still, past experience had always found it pretty straight forward. "How hard can it be? I mean, it says, "strangers" shouldn't enter, but are we "strangers" really?" I said this to myself (choosing not to share my mild concern with Pat, sleeping peacefully below).
Three or four miles from of the buoy marking the inlet, I called Pat on deck to prepare. Part of that preparation was searching the internet for advice. There, however, I found only tales of death and destruction. That's the problem with the internet: too much information. Those dark warnings were offset by the brilliant sunshine and an the occasional dolphin; both read as good omens for our arrival. However, when I spoke to one dolphin swimming close, asking her to lead us in (Ala my hero, Bernard Moitessier), she just grinned and swam away. Rather than being dismayed, I took that as a sign of confidence. I found more concrete help by calling on the VHF to Seatow and "any boat", seeking local knowledge. The last time I did this, several years ago, I got a Coast Guard escort into Cape Hatteras in the dark with flashing blue lights and a parade of boats behind (but that's another story). This time, I got an immediate call back from a boater that had entered the harbor the day before and, then, Seatow responded. Both indicated that the entrance was indeed straight forward, literally. "Just stay inside the buoys, near the middle of the channel. Watch for RN "60", keep that to starboard and you should be okay." And we were. Entering on a rising tide, 2 hours before high water, our timing was nearly perfect. We saw nothing less than 20 feet of water through the inlet. Arriving safety around 9:30 am, we anchored in about 15 feet of water just off the seawall, near the Bridge of Lions and within 100 yards of the Castillo de San Marcos in downtown St. Augustine. If we decide to stay at this spot, we will probably set another anchor to accommodate the reversing current.
With temperatures in the low 60's and a bright cloudless day, we felt that at last we had found the warmth that had eluded us thus far. With a safe anchorage, a city full of great restaurants, and provisioning stores, we plan to stay here for about a week.
Three or four miles from of the buoy marking the inlet, I called Pat on deck to prepare. Part of that preparation was searching the internet for advice. There, however, I found only tales of death and destruction. That's the problem with the internet: too much information. Those dark warnings were offset by the brilliant sunshine and an the occasional dolphin; both read as good omens for our arrival. However, when I spoke to one dolphin swimming close, asking her to lead us in (Ala my hero, Bernard Moitessier), she just grinned and swam away. Rather than being dismayed, I took that as a sign of confidence. I found more concrete help by calling on the VHF to Seatow and "any boat", seeking local knowledge. The last time I did this, several years ago, I got a Coast Guard escort into Cape Hatteras in the dark with flashing blue lights and a parade of boats behind (but that's another story). This time, I got an immediate call back from a boater that had entered the harbor the day before and, then, Seatow responded. Both indicated that the entrance was indeed straight forward, literally. "Just stay inside the buoys, near the middle of the channel. Watch for RN "60", keep that to starboard and you should be okay." And we were. Entering on a rising tide, 2 hours before high water, our timing was nearly perfect. We saw nothing less than 20 feet of water through the inlet. Arriving safety around 9:30 am, we anchored in about 15 feet of water just off the seawall, near the Bridge of Lions and within 100 yards of the Castillo de San Marcos in downtown St. Augustine. If we decide to stay at this spot, we will probably set another anchor to accommodate the reversing current.
With temperatures in the low 60's and a bright cloudless day, we felt that at last we had found the warmth that had eluded us thus far. With a safe anchorage, a city full of great restaurants, and provisioning stores, we plan to stay here for about a week.
Sailing to Savannah
An early afternoon departure from Charleston put us at the channel entrance to the Savannah River just at dawn. A beautiful sunrise capped a peaceful sail under power along the coast . As we entered the channel, the VHF, quiet for most of the night, broke its silence hailing the sailboat entering the Savannah River near buoy number 4. "Buoy 4! That's us!", I exclaimed to Pat. A harbor pilot was contacting us to suggest that we move out of the channel as he was bringing in an LNG tanker and was coming up on our stern. We had marked all the vessels near us on the radar and what had been a stationary blip had became an ominous moving blob. I responded that we were here first and they could just wait their turn. Not really. I actually responded with a very nautical, "Roger that, we will move to our starboard, staying outside the channel until after you pass." The water to either side of the channel here is deep and presented no difficulty. The tanker soon appeared out of the gloom and passed us accompanied by two pilot boats.
We proceeded up the Savannah River, took the Elba Island Cut to the ICW and tied up at the Thunderbolt Marina. Thunderbolt is a suburb to Savannah and home to Savannah University. Having gone without much sleep the night before we vegged out after eating a mostly carnivorous lunch at a local restaurant and planned our visit. The next morning,to our surprise and delight, the marina delivered fresh donuts and a newspaper!
Savannah rests on a hill 40 feet above sea level about 7 miles from the coast; the highest point in the region (guess that's why it's called the "Low Country"). Settled in 1732, it is unique in that it is the only colonial city built to a plan (many were planned but few built to the plan). Laid out in a grid pattern , Savannah's founder, James Edward Oglethorpe, reserved space for parks, churches and municipal buildings in each of the 24 squares. He had definite ideas about setting up a colony and some interesting rules, such as, no importation of slaves or lawyers! Both of these rules were rescinded, much to the regret of later generations.
Similar to Charleston in style, large homes and townhouses feature floor to ceiling windows, balconies and gardens; all dressed with beautifully wrought iron. Live oak, Spanish moss and magnolia trees line wide busy streets. You get a definite sense of order as you walk the streets with each neighborhood centered on a landscaped park surrounded by 18th or 19th century homes and anchored by a church and a public building.
In addition to being a tourist destination, Savannah is a busy port (4th largest container port on the east coast). We took a trolley tour of the city (to get out of the cold), walked along the river and visited the Maritime Museum featuring scale models of historic ships (most of which were notable for having sunk within a few years after launching) from the colonial era to today; all housed in a beautiful Victorian mansion.
We had a great but brief visit. Somewhere there is warmth and we are determined to find it. Next stop St. Augustine!
We proceeded up the Savannah River, took the Elba Island Cut to the ICW and tied up at the Thunderbolt Marina. Thunderbolt is a suburb to Savannah and home to Savannah University. Having gone without much sleep the night before we vegged out after eating a mostly carnivorous lunch at a local restaurant and planned our visit. The next morning,to our surprise and delight, the marina delivered fresh donuts and a newspaper!
Savannah rests on a hill 40 feet above sea level about 7 miles from the coast; the highest point in the region (guess that's why it's called the "Low Country"). Settled in 1732, it is unique in that it is the only colonial city built to a plan (many were planned but few built to the plan). Laid out in a grid pattern , Savannah's founder, James Edward Oglethorpe, reserved space for parks, churches and municipal buildings in each of the 24 squares. He had definite ideas about setting up a colony and some interesting rules, such as, no importation of slaves or lawyers! Both of these rules were rescinded, much to the regret of later generations.
Similar to Charleston in style, large homes and townhouses feature floor to ceiling windows, balconies and gardens; all dressed with beautifully wrought iron. Live oak, Spanish moss and magnolia trees line wide busy streets. You get a definite sense of order as you walk the streets with each neighborhood centered on a landscaped park surrounded by 18th or 19th century homes and anchored by a church and a public building.
In addition to being a tourist destination, Savannah is a busy port (4th largest container port on the east coast). We took a trolley tour of the city (to get out of the cold), walked along the river and visited the Maritime Museum featuring scale models of historic ships (most of which were notable for having sunk within a few years after launching) from the colonial era to today; all housed in a beautiful Victorian mansion.
We had a great but brief visit. Somewhere there is warmth and we are determined to find it. Next stop St. Augustine!
Doing the Charleston
The Charleston City Marina contrasts sharply with Georgetown's shabby Harborwalk Marina. This is truly a "megayacht" marina with facilities capable of handling the largest cruisers. We never considered Live Now diminutive, but she pales in comparison with the yachtasoris's that surround her. Uniformed dock hands driving golf carts and floating concrete docks wide enough to land a small airplane create an upscale resort-like environment. While not really our style, there are surprisingly few convenient marina options and its location and courtesy van make access to beautiful Charleston easy. Although the marina covers 40 acres and our assigned dock is over 3000' long, the practice here is to squeeze as many boats in as possible. Live Now's 47+ foot length seemed to grow as we attempted to parallel park between two boats barely separated by our boat length. Nevertheless, we muscled our way in. It wasn't pretty but like someone once said about dancing and singing dogs, it's not that they do it well, it's that they can do it all that's remarkable.
Charleston is one of our favorite cities. The wrought iron balconies, gardens, great restaurants, courtyards and terraces are reminiscent of the New Orleans' French Quarter without the calculated, conspicuous decadence (Charleston is more gentile. I think you have to call a 900 number here for decadence). In cold, clear weather we strolled the narrow live oak lined streets, ate Sunday brunch at the famous Magnolia Restaurant and visited the several block long Old City Market featuring the usual tourist offerings, as well as, the unique 'sweet grass baskets' woven by the descendants of West African Slaves. We also took the opportunity to tour Ft. Sumter National Park located in Charleston Harbor, tour the Nathaniel Russell House and to reprovision. Fog set in Monday morning confounding our departure plans so we took the opportunity to play tourist once again and visit one of the plantations nearby.
The city bus runs out to three plantations in the Charleston area. Based on the promotional literature we had picked Drayton Hall, only to have our minds changed by the vigorous recommendations of the bus driver and the only other passenger. So, off to the Middleton Place plantation, the last stop on the bus line. Middleton proved worthy of their recommendations. A carriage ride through the estate, tour of the big house (a small remnant of the original destroyed by nefarious Yankees and ungrateful former slaves during the Civil War), and the grounds gave you a sense of the wealth and power this family wheeled. The Middleton's owned about 20 estates, hundreds of slaves and were signers of the Declaration of Independence, ambassadors, state governors, and led South Carolina out of the Union in 1861. A reconstruction of a freedman's house on the grounds features an in depth presentation on the life of slaves owned by the Middleton's and provides records of their births, marriages and activities based on the records kept by the family. While the tour emphasizes the accomplishments of the family and the beauty and grandeur of the plantation life for whites, we found at least an acknowledgement of the evils of slavery. Middleton offers an African American tour that explores slavery in greater detail, however, we arrived too late to take part. Visiting Charleston and the plantations emit mixed feelings. The beauty of the architecture and gardens conflict sharply with the knowledge that that beauty was the product of 200 years of slavery and discrimination.
We ended our day with dinner at Hyman's, the best seafood restaurant in town. Hyman, came to our table, introduced himself and recommended menu items. When he found that we were sailing from Rhode Island to the Bahamas, he expressed amazement and brought his restaurant manager grandson over to hear our story. His grandson also has aspirations to sail the world.
Wednesday morning we headed to town to visit the Old Slave Mart Museum. This small museum includes a 1930's recording of a man born into slavery recounting his experiences, details of the slave trade, slave culture and the Black struggle for freedom prior to the Civil War (there were over 200 slave revolts prior to 1860!).
With an apparent 30-40 hour weather window, we plan to head down the coast to Hilton Head Island or Savannah Wednesday around 2:00 PM. Friday's forecast calls for 30 knot winds and we hope to be safely moored in protected waters by Thursday afternoon.
Charleston is one of our favorite cities. The wrought iron balconies, gardens, great restaurants, courtyards and terraces are reminiscent of the New Orleans' French Quarter without the calculated, conspicuous decadence (Charleston is more gentile. I think you have to call a 900 number here for decadence). In cold, clear weather we strolled the narrow live oak lined streets, ate Sunday brunch at the famous Magnolia Restaurant and visited the several block long Old City Market featuring the usual tourist offerings, as well as, the unique 'sweet grass baskets' woven by the descendants of West African Slaves. We also took the opportunity to tour Ft. Sumter National Park located in Charleston Harbor, tour the Nathaniel Russell House and to reprovision. Fog set in Monday morning confounding our departure plans so we took the opportunity to play tourist once again and visit one of the plantations nearby.
The city bus runs out to three plantations in the Charleston area. Based on the promotional literature we had picked Drayton Hall, only to have our minds changed by the vigorous recommendations of the bus driver and the only other passenger. So, off to the Middleton Place plantation, the last stop on the bus line. Middleton proved worthy of their recommendations. A carriage ride through the estate, tour of the big house (a small remnant of the original destroyed by nefarious Yankees and ungrateful former slaves during the Civil War), and the grounds gave you a sense of the wealth and power this family wheeled. The Middleton's owned about 20 estates, hundreds of slaves and were signers of the Declaration of Independence, ambassadors, state governors, and led South Carolina out of the Union in 1861. A reconstruction of a freedman's house on the grounds features an in depth presentation on the life of slaves owned by the Middleton's and provides records of their births, marriages and activities based on the records kept by the family. While the tour emphasizes the accomplishments of the family and the beauty and grandeur of the plantation life for whites, we found at least an acknowledgement of the evils of slavery. Middleton offers an African American tour that explores slavery in greater detail, however, we arrived too late to take part. Visiting Charleston and the plantations emit mixed feelings. The beauty of the architecture and gardens conflict sharply with the knowledge that that beauty was the product of 200 years of slavery and discrimination.
We ended our day with dinner at Hyman's, the best seafood restaurant in town. Hyman, came to our table, introduced himself and recommended menu items. When he found that we were sailing from Rhode Island to the Bahamas, he expressed amazement and brought his restaurant manager grandson over to hear our story. His grandson also has aspirations to sail the world.
Wednesday morning we headed to town to visit the Old Slave Mart Museum. This small museum includes a 1930's recording of a man born into slavery recounting his experiences, details of the slave trade, slave culture and the Black struggle for freedom prior to the Civil War (there were over 200 slave revolts prior to 1860!).
With an apparent 30-40 hour weather window, we plan to head down the coast to Hilton Head Island or Savannah Wednesday around 2:00 PM. Friday's forecast calls for 30 knot winds and we hope to be safely moored in protected waters by Thursday afternoon.
Georgetown on Our Mind
We toured Georgetown in cold rain over the two days we were there. The Harborwalk Marina is a minimalist facility offering a restroom with running water (especially when it rains due to leaks in the roof) and, well...that's pretty much it. It is conveniently situated close to town and within sight and smell of both the paper mill and the steel mill. The town, however, offers a 19th century main street worthy of Disney World with several nice restaurants and maybe the world's only rice museum. We took advantage of both the restaurants and the museum, coming away filled with good food and more information about rice growing than most would like to know; but which I feel compelled to share.
The museum features dioramas (like those I remember from grade school) and a video depicting how rice was grown from the mid 1700's through the mid 19th century. This plantation based economy thrived on the backs of a large slave population (my characterization, not theirs). The 1860 census reports "393,975 named persons holding 3,950,546 unnamed slaves" (It must have been very confusing with that many slaves not having names!). Based on growing techniques learned from their East African slaves (this fact was not included in the exhibit) Georgetown grew to become the world's leading exporter of rice; making it the richest per capita county in the U.S at the time(assuming you count the Black population as property and don't include them in calculating per capita income, also unsaid in the exhibit). An ingenious system of flood gates controlled the tides to provide an ideal rice growing environment (it also provided a great breeding ground for malarial mosquitos; avoided by plantation owners by summer homes in Charleston). The museum exhibit consistently refers to slaves as "laborers" and characterizes the pre-Civil War era as a golden age destroyed by the Civil War, sometimes referred as the "War Between the States", when the plantation owners lost their "labor source....without compensation." Today, no rice is grown in South Carolina.
Interestingly, the museum features only two individuals of note, both African American: Ruby Forsythe, an educator; and Joseph Hayne Rainey, the first African-American elected to the U.S. House of Representatives.
Having exhausted the culinary and cultural delights of Georgetown, we cast off around 3:00 pm for Charleston. After reviewing Skipper Bob's waterway guide and waterwayguide.com, we determined that staying on the ICW would be very difficult due to extreme shoaling in a number of areas. This again is due to the fact that no funding has been provided to keep the waterway anything close to the designed 12' controlling depth. Therefore, we headed down Winyah Bay to the ocean passing a shrimp boat drying its nets as it headed home and accompanied by numerous dolphin. Just over 70 NM away, Charleston required an overnight sail to arrive in daylight. Our departure was timed perfectly to put us outside the Winyah Bay Entrance just as dusk fell and we turned SSW. No wind, again, and calm seas prevailed. We saw nothing over 10 knots of wind and our instruments usually reported 5-6 knots. It was chilly but not uncomfortable with no seas to speak of. The biggest challenge was not to arrive too early. We normally average 5-6 knots per hour. This would put us at Charleston harbor in the dead of night. Leaving Georgetown before dark and arriving at Charleston after daybreak meant going about half that speed.
Pat and I took turns on watch, napping in the cockpit, and checking our course. We saw few other boats. A misty, gibbous moon forecast rain but provided light enough for us to see the surrounding water. The moonlight offset somewhat the usual 'cocoon-like' feeling you get at night with only your boat's light for reference. The person on watch scans the darkness for other boats and checks instruments, interspersed with listening to the radio, reading and, in my case, occasionally talking to myself (a rare opportunity to finish sentences on my own).
We arrived just outside Charleston a little early and circled for about 1/2 hour until morning. Several ships awaited pilots just outside the entrance channel and we gave them a wide berth. With light, we proceeded toward the harbor soon accompanied by fog and rain. Charleston's harbor entrance is well lit and, as it turned out, we would have been better off entering in darkness rather than fog. The good news is that no other idiots were out there and we had no difficulties. The deep, well marked harbor led us to the megayacht Charleston City Marina where our, by now, our old cruising buddies, Mike and Joy of Fiona Rios, were docked.
The museum features dioramas (like those I remember from grade school) and a video depicting how rice was grown from the mid 1700's through the mid 19th century. This plantation based economy thrived on the backs of a large slave population (my characterization, not theirs). The 1860 census reports "393,975 named persons holding 3,950,546 unnamed slaves" (It must have been very confusing with that many slaves not having names!). Based on growing techniques learned from their East African slaves (this fact was not included in the exhibit) Georgetown grew to become the world's leading exporter of rice; making it the richest per capita county in the U.S at the time(assuming you count the Black population as property and don't include them in calculating per capita income, also unsaid in the exhibit). An ingenious system of flood gates controlled the tides to provide an ideal rice growing environment (it also provided a great breeding ground for malarial mosquitos; avoided by plantation owners by summer homes in Charleston). The museum exhibit consistently refers to slaves as "laborers" and characterizes the pre-Civil War era as a golden age destroyed by the Civil War, sometimes referred as the "War Between the States", when the plantation owners lost their "labor source....without compensation." Today, no rice is grown in South Carolina.
Interestingly, the museum features only two individuals of note, both African American: Ruby Forsythe, an educator; and Joseph Hayne Rainey, the first African-American elected to the U.S. House of Representatives.
Having exhausted the culinary and cultural delights of Georgetown, we cast off around 3:00 pm for Charleston. After reviewing Skipper Bob's waterway guide and waterwayguide.com, we determined that staying on the ICW would be very difficult due to extreme shoaling in a number of areas. This again is due to the fact that no funding has been provided to keep the waterway anything close to the designed 12' controlling depth. Therefore, we headed down Winyah Bay to the ocean passing a shrimp boat drying its nets as it headed home and accompanied by numerous dolphin. Just over 70 NM away, Charleston required an overnight sail to arrive in daylight. Our departure was timed perfectly to put us outside the Winyah Bay Entrance just as dusk fell and we turned SSW. No wind, again, and calm seas prevailed. We saw nothing over 10 knots of wind and our instruments usually reported 5-6 knots. It was chilly but not uncomfortable with no seas to speak of. The biggest challenge was not to arrive too early. We normally average 5-6 knots per hour. This would put us at Charleston harbor in the dead of night. Leaving Georgetown before dark and arriving at Charleston after daybreak meant going about half that speed.
Pat and I took turns on watch, napping in the cockpit, and checking our course. We saw few other boats. A misty, gibbous moon forecast rain but provided light enough for us to see the surrounding water. The moonlight offset somewhat the usual 'cocoon-like' feeling you get at night with only your boat's light for reference. The person on watch scans the darkness for other boats and checks instruments, interspersed with listening to the radio, reading and, in my case, occasionally talking to myself (a rare opportunity to finish sentences on my own).
We arrived just outside Charleston a little early and circled for about 1/2 hour until morning. Several ships awaited pilots just outside the entrance channel and we gave them a wide berth. With light, we proceeded toward the harbor soon accompanied by fog and rain. Charleston's harbor entrance is well lit and, as it turned out, we would have been better off entering in darkness rather than fog. The good news is that no other idiots were out there and we had no difficulties. The deep, well marked harbor led us to the megayacht Charleston City Marina where our, by now, our old cruising buddies, Mike and Joy of Fiona Rios, were docked.
Muddy Rudder Redux
Lying aground at a 120 degree angle made it difficult to move around the boat as we waited for the tide to float us once again. The end of a near perfect day of cruising found us hard aground in a cloying mud within feet of the banks of the Calabash Creek. We can't say we weren't warned. Skipper Bob's guide to ICW anchorages clearly identifies this area as a good anchorage but plagued by shoaling. Nevertheless, it was a convenient stopping point and under other circumstances would have been easy. The windless day had become gusty just as we turned into the creek, the west wind giving us a lee shore and the tide had just started to ebb. With Pat at the helm and I at the bow ready to drop anchor, we found plenty of water as we circled the anchorage. Still with the wind gusting to over 20 knots, the tide going out, I said to myself (to quote Indiana Jones), "I've gotta bad feeling about this." As we approached the targeted position to drop anchor, I shouted, "How much water?" "6' to 7'," Pat shouted back. Six feet under the keel gave us plenty of margin. So, ignoring my inner warnings, I dropped the anchor and let out about 30 feet of chain, then 60, then stopped to see if we were holding. When I turned to look back toward the stern and shore, I was dismayed (to put it mildly) to see how close we were. "How much water?" "Still showing 6," Pat answered. "That doesn't seem possible. Look how close we are to shore!* This is not good, bring the boat forward and let's get out of here." I turned back to begin raising the anchor. "Come forward," I shouted. Nothing. "Why aren't you coming forward!" "I'm trying." "Give it everything you've got!," I shouted back. No good. "Darn, darn, darn it!" I said to myself (or something very much like that) as that sinking feeling of doubt turned to a dead certainty. We were aground. With little room between us and the creek bank, the wind had blown us into shallow water. As I raised the anchor, it probably skudded along the bottom, allowing us to drift toward shore. I took the helm and began trying to break us free but it was clear we were not going to get off. The tidal range here is 3-4 feet and the creek was emptying fast. There was a small chance that we could get pulled off, so I called BoatUS Sea Tow as I lowered the dinghy to set a kedge anchor (to keep us from being pushed further ashore and to, maybe, wench us off). Sea Tow responded immediately and said he would be on site within 20 minutes.
Meanwhile, David, anchored safely in his smug little trimaran, Faith, dinghied over to offer advice. He and his wife had been anchored in the creek for about 2 months, he said. "You're not the first to get in trouble here," he offered kindly. "We're still 2 hours from low water, but the bottom's soft, so you should be okay."
Sea Tow soon arrived and we rigged a harness to the bow of Live Now and made a vigorous but unsuccessful attempt to get us into deeper water. No go. It was pretty obvious that we were stuck. David stayed on the scene throughout and with his local knowledge, we set two anchors, bow and stern, to enable us to wench ourselves off when the tide returned, an event we had every reason to believe would occur. So there we sat. The water continued to flow out, we continued to heal over. I shut off the seacocks so water couldn't siphon into the boat and we stayed below out of the cold to wait. High tide would be around 1:30 am.
While uncomfortable, being at such an angle, we were in no danger and the boat was not at risk. Nevertheless, it was a challenge to just move around. Pat fixed a nice spagetti dinner and we waited. Knowing it was going to be a long night, I napped off and on while Pat kept watch until the tide began to turn, around 7:00 pm. As the water flowed in around the boat, I periodically took up the slack on the anchor lines to avoid us being pushed further ashore. Finally, we started to lift. The angle of heel lessened dramatically and by 12:30 am we were afloat once again! We started the engine, pulled ourselves forward on the anchor line into deeper water and waited for dawn.
By 7:00 am, we were back in the waterway, bidding less than a fond farewell to Calabash Creek. We owe a debt of thanks to Sea Tow and especially to David. David is an ordained minister who lives aboard his 40' trimaran. This cruising preacher has delivered medical supplies, bibles, sermons and counseling throughout the Caribbean islands for over 16 years. He was very helpful but nothing short of a miracle would have got us afloat before the flood tide. Maybe the ever reliable tide is miracle enough.
Although a little sleep deprived, we enjoyed the rest of the day, clearing through the Sunset Beach Pontoon Swing Bridge, passing the backside of Myrtle Beach and marveling at the dense development along the shore. We passed this way in 2001 and we found the change in the intervening years disconcerting. Crowded "lot filling" mansions, condos, golf courses and high-class marinas now create a seemingly endless man-made corridor. Oddly enough, we saw our first bald eagle on this stretch.
These palisades of bourgeois pleasure eventually gave way to long stretches of pristine cypress swamp, however, as the ICW continues in deep water down the Waccamaw River to Georgetown, our next stop.
*Note: Our depth sounder will give the "last" depth read if it can't get a real time reading. Apparently we were already touching when Pat thought it was saying we had 6' of water under the keel.
Meanwhile, David, anchored safely in his smug little trimaran, Faith, dinghied over to offer advice. He and his wife had been anchored in the creek for about 2 months, he said. "You're not the first to get in trouble here," he offered kindly. "We're still 2 hours from low water, but the bottom's soft, so you should be okay."
Sea Tow soon arrived and we rigged a harness to the bow of Live Now and made a vigorous but unsuccessful attempt to get us into deeper water. No go. It was pretty obvious that we were stuck. David stayed on the scene throughout and with his local knowledge, we set two anchors, bow and stern, to enable us to wench ourselves off when the tide returned, an event we had every reason to believe would occur. So there we sat. The water continued to flow out, we continued to heal over. I shut off the seacocks so water couldn't siphon into the boat and we stayed below out of the cold to wait. High tide would be around 1:30 am.
While uncomfortable, being at such an angle, we were in no danger and the boat was not at risk. Nevertheless, it was a challenge to just move around. Pat fixed a nice spagetti dinner and we waited. Knowing it was going to be a long night, I napped off and on while Pat kept watch until the tide began to turn, around 7:00 pm. As the water flowed in around the boat, I periodically took up the slack on the anchor lines to avoid us being pushed further ashore. Finally, we started to lift. The angle of heel lessened dramatically and by 12:30 am we were afloat once again! We started the engine, pulled ourselves forward on the anchor line into deeper water and waited for dawn.
By 7:00 am, we were back in the waterway, bidding less than a fond farewell to Calabash Creek. We owe a debt of thanks to Sea Tow and especially to David. David is an ordained minister who lives aboard his 40' trimaran. This cruising preacher has delivered medical supplies, bibles, sermons and counseling throughout the Caribbean islands for over 16 years. He was very helpful but nothing short of a miracle would have got us afloat before the flood tide. Maybe the ever reliable tide is miracle enough.
Although a little sleep deprived, we enjoyed the rest of the day, clearing through the Sunset Beach Pontoon Swing Bridge, passing the backside of Myrtle Beach and marveling at the dense development along the shore. We passed this way in 2001 and we found the change in the intervening years disconcerting. Crowded "lot filling" mansions, condos, golf courses and high-class marinas now create a seemingly endless man-made corridor. Oddly enough, we saw our first bald eagle on this stretch.
These palisades of bourgeois pleasure eventually gave way to long stretches of pristine cypress swamp, however, as the ICW continues in deep water down the Waccamaw River to Georgetown, our next stop.
*Note: Our depth sounder will give the "last" depth read if it can't get a real time reading. Apparently we were already touching when Pat thought it was saying we had 6' of water under the keel.
Motion on the Ocean
To arrive in Charleston in daylight, a 36 hour sail, we left Beaufort around 4:00 pm Sunday. Since Fiona Rose departed at the same time, we arranged to sail 'in company'. Overcast and cool, we reinstalled our cockpit enclosure and settled down for a two night sail. The predicted 15-20 NNE wind gave us a bit of rolly ride and Pat, having lost her sea legs somewhere between Norfolk and Beaufort, went below to throw up repeatedly and ask herself, "Why are we doing this?". I meant to take her picture for the blog but forgot. I can tell you that black and white film would have captured her shades of gray very nicely. She hovered in a comatose state the rest of the night, and in the morning, I suggested that we divert to Southport rather than stay out another day and night. She readily agreed (at least, I'm pretty sure "@#*&^%" meant "Okay, fine with me"). She came-to only after we docked at the Southport Marina. I may have to start putting papers down in the cockpit before we head out. What a mess!
Other than that, we had an easy time of it. The rhumb line takes you about 20 nm off shore and you sail a single heading from Cape Lookout to the Navaid off Frying Pan Shoals. Except for the stern light from Fiona Rose, we saw no other vessels until I turned for the Cape Fear River inlet. What great names...Cape Lookout, Cape Fear and Frying Pan Shoals! According to Mark Twain, Adam and Eve, mostly Eve, named everything in the world and I think they did a bang up job!
I set only our small yankee (a high cut head sail) and mizzen (a small sail flown from the smaller, aft mast, see sail plan) which only added to the uncomfortable motion. More sail would have made for a better ride but I didn't want to deal with wrestling the main sail in the dark and rain should the wind pick up. In hindsight, I could have added sail and sailed off the wind a bit to ease the motion. Lessons learned.
Pat recovered this morning to the extent that I became concerned about desertion. I felt compelled to remind her that she had signed up for the 'duration' of the voyage and read aloud to her the British Articles of War, embodying the standards of discipline for the Royal Navy as established in the 1650's and amended in 1749 and 1757 (by act of Parliament) with emphasis on punishment for unauthorized leave (I read that section twice). These same articles were instituted on Live Now shortly after her purchase and have served her very well. I further reminded Pat that our ship's motto was "Live Now, or else!"
Southport is another 19th century waterfront town preserved for posterity to build expensive condos. Acually, it's a wonderful town. All the houses have names and 'circa' dates posted. Most are modest-sized homes built in the mid to late 1800s or early 1900s on narrow streets with live oak trees and still flowering bushes (gardenias & others). There are several nice restaurants, a nearby grocery and a maritime museum. Today we do laundry, explore the town, and clean up the mess. Tomorrow we will probably head down the ICW toward Charleston; a concession to Pat's wishes as my most valued crew.
Other than that, we had an easy time of it. The rhumb line takes you about 20 nm off shore and you sail a single heading from Cape Lookout to the Navaid off Frying Pan Shoals. Except for the stern light from Fiona Rose, we saw no other vessels until I turned for the Cape Fear River inlet. What great names...Cape Lookout, Cape Fear and Frying Pan Shoals! According to Mark Twain, Adam and Eve, mostly Eve, named everything in the world and I think they did a bang up job!
I set only our small yankee (a high cut head sail) and mizzen (a small sail flown from the smaller, aft mast, see sail plan) which only added to the uncomfortable motion. More sail would have made for a better ride but I didn't want to deal with wrestling the main sail in the dark and rain should the wind pick up. In hindsight, I could have added sail and sailed off the wind a bit to ease the motion. Lessons learned.
Pat recovered this morning to the extent that I became concerned about desertion. I felt compelled to remind her that she had signed up for the 'duration' of the voyage and read aloud to her the British Articles of War, embodying the standards of discipline for the Royal Navy as established in the 1650's and amended in 1749 and 1757 (by act of Parliament) with emphasis on punishment for unauthorized leave (I read that section twice). These same articles were instituted on Live Now shortly after her purchase and have served her very well. I further reminded Pat that our ship's motto was "Live Now, or else!"
Southport is another 19th century waterfront town preserved for posterity to build expensive condos. Acually, it's a wonderful town. All the houses have names and 'circa' dates posted. Most are modest-sized homes built in the mid to late 1800s or early 1900s on narrow streets with live oak trees and still flowering bushes (gardenias & others). There are several nice restaurants, a nearby grocery and a maritime museum. Today we do laundry, explore the town, and clean up the mess. Tomorrow we will probably head down the ICW toward Charleston; a concession to Pat's wishes as my most valued crew.
"Hammock House" Beaufort NC
Oldest House in Beaufort, 1709. Used primarily as an inn, it was a stopping place for Edward Teach aka Blackbeard the Pirate.
Wild Pony on Carrot Island Beaufort NC
These ponies are descendents of Spanish horses left here over 400 years ago.
Blaise Boating from Belhaven to Beaufort
Returning from a wonderful Christmas holiday with friends and family, we hunkered down at the Belhaven Waterway Marina to await favorable weather. A cold front and high winds greeted us on our return and we decided to take advantage of the free slip offered by the marina manager, Les, and celebrate the New Year tied comfortably to this well protected dock. Les had thoughtfully turned Live Now around while we were traveling. This put the bow into the southerly wind and eased our departure. He had also, at our request, got our diesel generator running much to our delight! Anyone cruising the ICW past Belhaven would do well to take advantage of this well managed marina. We can also highly recommend the Farm Boy's Sandwich Shop located nearby. Not only are the sandwiches terrific, you get a chance to meet nearly everyone in town and overhear the wonderful variety of English spoken.
We had left Belhaven December 19th for the holidays. In order to visit our dispersed family, we rented a car in Greenville, NC, requiring a 50+ mile taxi ride with Jack, owner of Jack's Taxi. The ride turned into a real treat as we enjoyed Jack's stories about living in NYC after WWII and his return to his home state of North Carolina, interspersed with an occasional Christmas Carole. We put over 2000 miles on the rental visiting Ohio, Michigan and Florida. We had a great time but were happy to be home at last.
Friday the 4th, we departed Belhaven and continued in absolute calm down the ICW to Oriental. With a deep channel, no boat traffic and no wind, we reached Oriental mid afternoon without incident. Oriental is a favorite stopping place on the ICW due to it's friendly town, excellent marine provisioning store, and great restaurants. We anchored in 7-8 foot water just off the harbor channel opposite the shrimp boats and a short dinghy ride to the town dock. Our friends, the Rainwaters, had recommended the M&M Restaurant and having skipped lunch in anticipation, we headed there immediately. Soon we were enjoying a wonderful meal and meeting Vaughan and Linda, of Sheba Moon, a beautiful 50 something schooner, anchored near us. Vaughan and Linda have an international military law practice in Jacksonville, NC, specializing in defending soldiers in military court. They have sailed extensively in the Bahamas and along the southeast US coast. We benefited greatly from their sharing their experience. They plan to retire next year and cruise full time through the Caribbean and Med.
We spent Friday and Saturday in Oriental, taking a walking tour, a dinghy ride up Camp Creek and grocery shopping (using loaner bikes from the Oriental Marine Provisioning store). Oriental is a small community with a number of 19th century homes. Everyone we met was very friendly and helpful. While Pat got a couple of extra winks Saturday morning, I dinghied into town for coffee at the Bean Coffee Shop, a local gathering place. As I was starting back to the boat, 3 bedraggled guys in an open 16' Carolina skiff puttered up to the town dock. "We're lost! We're trying to find Incomprehensible Due to Accent Creek!" One shouted to me. "Well, this is Oriental. I'm just passing through and can't tell you where Incomprehensible Due to Accent Creek is, but I'm sure there's someone in the coffee shop here that can give you directions," I said helpfully. These three had been fishing yesterday, got lost and spent the night drifting on the river. It must of been terribly uncomfortable with temperatures in the 30's and only sweatshirts and light jackets for warmth. Besides that, they said the fishing was awful! They had no charts and had left both of their GPS's at home. I waited to make sure they got the information they needed before returning to the boat.
Sunday dawned another calm clear day and we weighed anchor for Beaufort (pronounced ''Bo-furt'' by natives). Beaufort would be our last stop on the ICW before heading outside for Charleston. Again we enjoyed an easy passage down across the Neuse River and down the Adam Creek Canal. Just north of Beaufort, we found the ICW channel narrow, confusing and shallow. You actually have to leave the Waterway to reach Beaufort because the Corps of Engineers have not had funds to dredge and were forced to close this portion of the ICW. Nevertheless, with careful attention and caution, we were able to negotiate the detour. We had to go around Radio Island because the most direct route has a controlling depth of 5.5' (the same as our draft) and dropped anchor just off the channel in front of this delightful 19th century waterfront town. Dolphins accompanied us for much of our way and we had a great time watching them dive under the boat.
Beaufort boasts a number of antebellum homes and old inns, including one reportedly a favorite haunt of Edward Teach, Blackbeard the Pirate! After a quick cheeseburger at the only place open, the Prince James Cafe, we walked around a bit before returning to the boat. At the dinghy dock, we met Dave and Margot, father and daughter. Dave, a museum designer, his wife and Margot (a 6th grader)were cruising full time, heading the the Caribbean. Margot is being home schooled and both she and Dave gave us a lot of great information about Beaufort, its maritime museum and the wild ponies that reside on the small Carrot Island across from the town. We talked about our cruising plans and next stops. He mentioned some friends of his that were having difficulty getting down the ICW south of here in their Cape Dory 45. I said that we met some people in NJ that were heading south on a Cape Dory 45. It turns out that he was talking about Mike and Joy of Fiona Rose, who we last saw in Coinjock before Christmas!
The next day, after touring the town (including the NC Maritime Museum and the old Burying Ground), we returned to Live Now to find Fiona Rose anchored next to us! They couldn't get their 6.5' draft past Camp Lejeune and returned to Belhaven to regroup. Like us, they now intend to go outside to Charleston, SC.
After agreeing to get together later, we took our dinghy up river and beached on the island to see the wild ponies. We weren't disappointed. The ponies showed no fear and grazed peacefully but always keeping a distance as I tried get some pictures. The ponies descend from horses that escaped from the Spanish in the 15th century. Returning, we saw maybe 6 or 8 dolphin coming up the river!
After agreeing to get together later, we took our dinghy up river and beached on the island to see the wild ponies. We weren't disappointed. The ponies showed no fear and grazed peacefully but always keeping a distance as I tried get some pictures. The ponies descend from horses that escaped from the Spanish in the 15th century. Returning, we saw maybe 6 or 8 dolphin coming up the river!
Another cold front and south winds (20-25 knots) will keep us here until Saturday when we expect N and NW winds to drive us to Charleston. In the meantime, we'll work on the boat, and maybe take in one of the special museum programs.
View from the First Mate's Quarters
Several people have asked about living on a boat. Does my furniture fit? What did I do with my car? How do we keep warm, etc? Actually, you might be surprised to discover that a boat comes with all the furniture built in that you need. We have two bedrooms (staterooms, in nautical talk), two bathrooms (heads), a full kitchen (galley), a navigation area with desk, radar, GPS, a ham radio and other assorted gizmos, and a combination living/dining room, complete with two couches (settees), a television, stereo, dvd player, and satellite radio. We have a rotating antenna on the mizzen mast and we can get several tv stations in most places. The galley is equipped with a propane stove, oven, a microwave, a double stainless steel sink and a refrigerator/freezer (but they don't look like the ones in your house). I do not, however, have a disposal, dishwasher, or trash compactor. I do have my own sewage treatment system in one of the heads, however. Yes, the toilet has a computer in it. When you flush, it brings in seawater, mixes it with electricity, treats it, and it (according to Coast Guard studies as well as the manufacturer) comes out cleaner than what comes out of your town sewage treatment plant. We also have central heat, central air which operates just like your heat pump, except with water. It runs sea water through a pump, takes out the cold or heat, and spits the water back out. We also have a watermaker on board. We can make 20 gallons of fresh drinking water per hour from the ocean. Cool, huh? Well, all this sounds great, but we have never had all the systems working at one time~~I think the salt air and salt water take a real toll on these systems, plus the boat is 27 years old. Gives John something to do, and do, and do....
People seem to think that since we live on a boat we spend all of our time out in the ocean. Nothing could be further from the truth. For most of the last four and a half years, we were docked at a marina in a lovely New England town, within walking distance of restaurants and stores. All we had to do was step off the boat onto the dock, walk to the parking lot, and get in our car. Now that we are 'cruising', however, we stop each night either at a marina, where we can step off onto a dock and hope that there are restaurants and stores nearby, or we anchor in the harbor (much cheaper!) and dingy into shore. It's just like you exploring in your car or camper, but we do it on the water. It is a unique way to see things. What I like most, I think, is that I love to travel, but after a few months I get homesick. Now, I take my home with me.
Since the places we will stop are mostly places where people boat and go for recreation, there are usually great restaurants and shops all around, within walking distance. That also gives us our exercise. There are also many very helpful books that tell you what to expect at each port of call, like where to find the nearest boat supply place, the best restaurants, etc. It is also helpful, now, that rental car agencies like Enterprise will pick you up at the marina, in case we need to rent a car, which we will occasionally to go see family inland, or to see sights that are not within walking distance. We do still own a car, but it is stored in our garage at our condo in Centerville, Ohio~~we tried to sell it when we started cruising, but no one wanted a car with 206,000 miles on it~~imagine!
When we actually get to sail, it is one of the most relaxing things imaginable. You are moving through the water and all you hear is the sound of the wind and an occasional sail flapping. One of the most memorable things for me that has happened, not on this trip, but on an earlier trip, earlier boat, was when a large spotted dolphin swam right along side us, occasionally turning to look up at me while I hung one arm over the side trying to touch him. He wasn't a foot away from the boat, and I have to think that it was a special communion for both of us.
People seem to think that since we live on a boat we spend all of our time out in the ocean. Nothing could be further from the truth. For most of the last four and a half years, we were docked at a marina in a lovely New England town, within walking distance of restaurants and stores. All we had to do was step off the boat onto the dock, walk to the parking lot, and get in our car. Now that we are 'cruising', however, we stop each night either at a marina, where we can step off onto a dock and hope that there are restaurants and stores nearby, or we anchor in the harbor (much cheaper!) and dingy into shore. It's just like you exploring in your car or camper, but we do it on the water. It is a unique way to see things. What I like most, I think, is that I love to travel, but after a few months I get homesick. Now, I take my home with me.
Since the places we will stop are mostly places where people boat and go for recreation, there are usually great restaurants and shops all around, within walking distance. That also gives us our exercise. There are also many very helpful books that tell you what to expect at each port of call, like where to find the nearest boat supply place, the best restaurants, etc. It is also helpful, now, that rental car agencies like Enterprise will pick you up at the marina, in case we need to rent a car, which we will occasionally to go see family inland, or to see sights that are not within walking distance. We do still own a car, but it is stored in our garage at our condo in Centerville, Ohio~~we tried to sell it when we started cruising, but no one wanted a car with 206,000 miles on it~~imagine!
When we actually get to sail, it is one of the most relaxing things imaginable. You are moving through the water and all you hear is the sound of the wind and an occasional sail flapping. One of the most memorable things for me that has happened, not on this trip, but on an earlier trip, earlier boat, was when a large spotted dolphin swam right along side us, occasionally turning to look up at me while I hung one arm over the side trying to touch him. He wasn't a foot away from the boat, and I have to think that it was a special communion for both of us.
Initially, after we sold our house in East Greenwich, RI, and moved onto the boat, we stored all our stuff (what the kids didn't take). In the spring of 2007, however, we bought a small condo near our families in Ohio, where we can store all our stuff and have a place to be 'dirt dwellers' from time to time while we visit the family.
People have asked what we eat, etc. Well, while we are at a marina, we have 'shore power', which means we just hook up to their electricity. When we do that, I do alot of crockpot cooking, just like I did while on shore. When we're at anchor, we do alot of grilling~~there is a propane grill on deck. Also, while at a marina, we usually take the opportunity to stock up if there is a grocery nearby, as well as fill our water tanks and diesel tanks. The boat holds 140 gallons of diesel fuel (we have an 82 hp Ford Lehman diesel engine) and 120 gallons of water. The tanks are under the floor and work through a series of pumps, etc. There is also a diesel generator to use to generate power to restore the battery bank (which is under one of the settees) while we are at anchor so that we can have power when not at the dock.
Please feel free to ask questions. I will be glad to try to answer them.
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