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Other than a occasional tapping of the the mooring whip and ball bumping against the hull, it was a quiet night on the mooring at Fernandina Beach. We were both tired enough that the sounds were quickly relegated to the okay category of sounds. We dinghied back to town in the morning to fill the propane tank at qa local gas station since it was within easy walking distance. We also stopped at a fish market to pickup fresh shrimp. They must have been gearing up for the weekend shrimp festival since the guy told me that had 1800 pounds of shrimp on hand.
We thought about staying through Friday, the first day of the festival, but decided it made more sense to take advantage of the stable weather pattern and head offshore to Charleston after spending a day at Cumberland Island. While making lunch after we'd gotten anchored off Cumberland, we noticed a Coast Guard helicopter flying in circles and wondered what was happening. Then Leonard came dashing below for the camera - the helicopter was providing air cover while one of the submarines from the base at Kings Bay made its way to port just west of us.
Submarine being escorted to the base at King's Bay
We spent the afternoon hiking on the island. There must have been a spring trip for a local school, as there was a large group of kids enjoying the beach. I had a group of boys ask if I'd found any sand dollars (I hadn't), but wondered if there were prizes for various finds.
A foal by Dungeness at
Cumberland island
We saw a lot of hoof prints in the sand, some of which were very small. As we walked past Dungeness we came across some of the horses grazing and saw a colt and a foal. Near by we watched an armadillo digging for dinner. He really made the dirt fly!
Gecko on the boardwalk
I'd forgotten how large the island is. After walking down to the breakwater from the sea camp trail, retracing our way back to the loop trail, hiking back across the island and along the river we were both glad to see the ranger's station by the dinghy dock come into view. A couple of campers arrived at the dock as we approached. One of them had a fishing line in the water, and when I asked what they caught there he said trout. Perhaps they were hoping to catch dinner.
We were underway bright and early in the morning. There was a bit more of a breeze than the day before, but it still looked like it would be a sail assisted motor to Charleston. The calm seas make for efficient motoring and the 1-2 foot swells don't slow us down. With the wind off the beam, the sails give a boost and allow us to ease off on the throttle. It is certainly easier going offshore than weaving our way through the Georgia portion of the ICW which has areas of shoaling, and doubles back on itself in many places. Instead of 4 days to Charleston, it's about 30 hours.
There wasn't much to see, visibility remained limited due to humidity and the smoke from the fires. Leonard heard a call on the VHF about an EPIRB having gone off about 7 miles west of us, but we couldn't see anything. A few dolphins made a brief appearance, but were more interested in eating than playing.
Gray catbird hitching a ride on the jib sheet
A gray catbird took a short rest on the lifelines before resuming its journey. In the afternoon a palm warbler landed on board looking a bit frazzled. It was joined by a mate who was much perkier. After checking out the exterior for food, both headed down below. They would have had plenty to eat the day before when we were inundated with pesky no see ums off Cumberland. When last seen, the frazzled one was headed for the aft cabin. We took the screens out, it make it easier to exit, but maybe found a secure place for a much needed rest. Its mate decided to continue on its journey north. Hopefully we won't find too many calling cards in the aft cabin when we reach Charleston.
A very weary palm warbler snoozing on the life lines
Our hop to Charleston was going smoothly. The sails were filled and helping even if they weren't the only power source, the seas fairly smooth, virtually no traffic requiring monitoring and/or dodging, the speed over ground hovering around 7 knots with an ETA at Charleston timed to get the boost of a flood tide, an almost full moon to brighten the night, enough dew condensing on the decks to indicate no rain in the immediate future and no mention of NE winds in the forecast. This makes for an easy trip.
Then our latest cruising axiom reared it's head. It is the rule of the last 10 miles. The wind will change direction (to dead ahead) and increase in strength, which will cause the jib to back requiring it to be furled. The seas will build, causing the boat to slow dramatically at every 5th wave, salt spray to cover everything in an amazingly short time and the time required to do the last 10 miles will be equivalent to the previous 20 miles. I'm beginning to think we have to plan longer hops and then use an alternate destination before the wind god realizes what we're doing.
We did make it to Charleston and even caught the tail end of the flood current as we headed in the channel. It all may have even worked to our advantage in the long run, since the sign board at the fixed, 55 foot bridge we needed to clear, was missing so we couldn't read the bridge clearance. Wednesday was full moon and we knew the high tide could lessen the official clearance and with the delay it was about an hour after high tide when we finally arrived. We held our breath as we slowly approached the bridge, the mast cleared with the antenna on top just tapping the bridge. I'm not sure we would have cleared an hour earlier at the peak of the tide. Dropping the mast on deck is another of those experiences we'd rather not have.
Once in a slip, we thoroughly washed the boat. We'd been hoping for a rainwater rinse for several weeks, but never happened to be in the right place at the right time. Leonard commented that he thinks salt is imbedded in the awl grip paint on the hull since we scrub and rinse, but when it dries it still looks salty. I'll give the interior a good cleaning in the morning while the clothes are getting washed. Then we'll be all set to get splashed again.
A peaceful Charleston garden
being enjoyed by the resident feline taking a catnap
Given the current weather forecast which calls for increasing NE winds, we'll be using the ICW for the next part of the trip. We're not in such a rush to get north that we want to beat to windward any more than is necessary. We hadn't planned on stopping at Georgetown, SC on the trip north, but maybe we will, while we wait for more favorable winds and conditions. We plan on departing Charleston on Sunday. (In retrospect, the forecasts we heard while in Charleston, especially on Friday and Saturday, while warning of the possibility of some stronger NE winds, didn't really do justice to what would become Andrea.)
Sunday from National Park Service Dock at
Ocracoke, NC, waiting out the latest cold front with its strong N-NE
winds
After dinner Saturday evening we headed for the great Italian deli that we'd tried for lunch to take advantage of their $1 gelato cones from 5-7 p.m. However, in spite of having plenty of time to make the 7:00 cutoff, we were delayed by a freak accident just past the marina.
We heard people talking at the edge of the parking lot, but didn't pay attention until, as we went under the highway ramps, we saw what appeared to be an under world creature writhing in the mud under the bridge. It took a moment for things to register, but what we were observing was a motor cyclist who'd somehow gone over the chest high, solid cement guard rail, some 60 feet overhead. What gave the scene away was his helmet, the only thing that wasn't completely covered with pluff mud (an especially soft, stinky, tidal sludge indigenous to the area). We must have just missed the flying debris that the people by the building had seen.
One of the dock hands from the marina waded out to help, and after getting his legs coated from the thigh on down, climbed up on the bridge abutments to assess the situation. There was someone above on the ramp yelling to the cyclist to just stay there until help came. The problem was the tide was coming in and he was pinned underwater from the waist down. In all, 7 squad cars, a fire truck, an ambulance, the Coast Guard, an air boat and a bicycle cop responded to the scene (that was at our level, there were more above on the bridge).
Fireman working to free Motorcyclist from the mud
(Charleston Post and Courier Photo)
The firemen got the dirty job of wading out (in uniforms) to do the
rescue. A leg or foot had gotten caught under the bike, trapping
the
victim, until a fireman was able to lift it enough for him to crawl
out.
And crawl he did! He was very willing to lay on a back board once
free.
He was eventually pulled by a rope on the back board (after having a
neck brace attached and being lashed down)to the marina parking lot
where the ambulance was waiting. He was a 17 year old
who
had lost control of his bike on the ramp. He escaped major
injury. Had
the trajectory of his fall been greaater, he would have hit the
abutment and not
been so lucky, or if it had been high tide he probably would have
drowned.
I was glad not to have to do the laundry for the firemen, be the EMT that got to ride in back with him, or to have been the staff in the ER where they would have to spray him down before assessing for damage. Two firemen got the thankless job of going back out in the mud and rising water to search for personal effects. They also helped the dock hand ashore, using a long plank and another back board to provide passage in the rising water.
Sunday morning brought decision time, to stay in Charleston or try to head north and find a secure anchorage in case the dire weather forecasts we were now hearing, were correct. It wasn't windy in the marina, but a large building on shore provides a bit of a wind break. We finally decided to head north since we've sat out heavy weather in the anchorage in Whiteside Creek by Capers Island in the past. We tried to get a spot at the marina on Isle of the Palms when we passed, but they were full.
By mistake, we pulled into the creek just south of Whiteside Creek where another boat was already anchored. Neither of us thought it looked quite right (a lot narrower and more shallow, and I could see the park dock on Capers) but hadn't said anything. There were trees growing on the north embankment that would provide protection from the N to NE winds. We set the anchor so we were in the middle of the creek, and decided it looked fine, even if we weren't exactly where we'd planned to be. We set a second anchor before dark and then hunkered down to see how accurate the weather forecasters were.
We were glad for the second anchor when the wind blew into the 30's in the middle of the night. It wasn't the most restful of nights, but the anchors held. We were glad not to be stuck on the bank just behind the boat. We departed in the morning, heading for a marina in Georgetown, since the storm seemed to be gaining strength. We would have slept better if we'd known how well the plow was buried, it almost tripped the windlass breaker before it finally came free when we left.
There wasn't much traffic on the ICW. A few power boats passed us heading north, but the few sailboats we saw were either heading south or hunkered down in various anchorages. It was windy, but it wasn't a problem until we reached the Winyah River where we dealt with wind against the current and got the decks salt coated again. We did sail one stretch before the river turned north. We were glad to reach Georgetown and get settled at a dock since the weathermen continualed revising the forecast for the worse.
After getting checked in, we noticed we were on a dock with 2 Sabre 38s and we all declared a dock take over! There was an Island Packet 42 with 3 or 4 men aboard who'd arrived earlier in the day after attempting to reach Southport, NC. They'd been offshore doing a Miami-Southport run when the storm caught up with them. With steady 35 knot winds with gusts into the 40s and 18 foot seas, they found themselves sailing slowly backward, especially on the up side of the waves. They'd gotten a bit north of the Winyah Bay entrance and decided it was too dangerous to continue offshore. They departed early the next morning, but I suspect in the ICW.
Merlin - one of the Sabre 38s passing us on the Winyah River
The next day we held a boat show on the dock with nibblies and drinks so we could compare the differences between the 3 Sabres. The other 2 were 1980's vintage boats built 2 years apart. One had the standard 2 cabin, forward head, aft galley configuration common for the period, the other had a galley/head arrangement at mid ship with a more open cabin. We started at 1630 in order to be finished in time for dinner. The folks from the 2 trawlers on the dock joined the show, and by the time we were done, it was 2100. So much for an early evening. Along with the Sabres, we toured a Great Harbor 37 and an American Tug 34. A good time was had by all.
Winyah River - there were fences blocking creeks
We were the first off the dock in the morning with the others soon following. We'd have to use the ICW route since the wind and waves were still too high to consider heading offshore. We'd never done this stretch of the ICW in the past. The river portion was beautiful, a lot like the nice part of the Dismal Swamp route or portions of the Hudson or rivers in the Chesapeake. The land cut we could have done without. We had a marina reservation north of the section referred to as the "rock pile". It was going to be a long day, but in spite of the head winds, we would make it. Or could have.
Fancy tour boat on the river
We ran afoul of the swing bridge at Barefoot Landing where the bridge tender refused to open citing strong winds. Leonard attempted to argue, since our wind readings are 54 feet above the water (not much lower than the top of the bridge) were only 20 Knots of wind. The bridge tender claimed we only knew what the wind was like at the surface. Apparently he'd had problems getting the bridge back in the road configuration after he'd opened for some boats at 1130. Arguing is futile since the bridge tender has the control.
We canceled our slip reservation and looked to see what was available by the bridge. We'd heard the dock the night before, that used to be free by the factory outlet mall, was now charging a fee, but other than power and water had no facilities. We talked to the dock master there and he said he could put us up for less money at some pilings. Since there was a much nicer marina across the way we went there when offered a 25% Boat U.S. discount. It had a huge pool and hot tub along with shower and laundry facilities. I hadn't wanted to shop at the outlet center across the way anyway! It also turned out that the resort owner was from Stowe, and knew the Caldwells, friends of ours, that used to live there. More Vermont connections.
Boats heading through the pontoon bridge
After looking at the distance to Wrightsville Beach we thought we'd need 2 days, but with the wind lighter and current more in our favor we pushed a bit harder and did it in a long day. We had 2 more bridges that needed to be opened and also to transit the section referred to as the "rock pile". It is a notorious section of narrow channel that is bordered by rock ledges that are under water at high tide. The goal is to stay in the middle, and to avoid meeting or passing situations if possible. We were glad to reach the pontoon bridge on the other end where we caught up with most of the boats that had left earlier, but missed the 0900 opening. We were able to set sail in the Wilmington River portion of the trip. I also watched clouds of ibis flash white in the sky, turn and disappear from sight, then suddenly reappear. I don't recall seeing so many of them in one place before. We arrived at the anchorage in Wrightsville Beach shortly after 1700.
After dinner we dinghied ashore for frozen custard and a walk on the beach. The storm left it's mark on the beach with erosion and piles of broken shells strewn about. The beach had more people on it than in past visits, perhaps because the weather had been so bad a few days ago. The surf was still up and a number of surfers were out taking advantage of it.
Wrightsville Beach
Most of the cruisers departed bright and early in the morning. We planned to go offshore to avoid the series of bridges and possible delay at the Camp Lejuene firing range. After checking the weather we decided to leave with the tide in the afternoon, aiming for a dawn arrival at Beaufort, NC. We'd continue north, heading for Ocracoke, if possible, with Belhaven as an alternate for the place to sit out the next cold front due on Sunday evening, bringing another batch of windy weather.
With little to no wind we were left with the seas and swell from Andrea. After a few hours of slow sailing, we reverted to motoring. Other than the rocky motion, it wasn't bad, and as far as we're concerned, it beat trying to time the inconveniently spaced bridges. When I came on watch the stars were reflecting in the undulating swells. I could see the star Antares in the constellation Scorpion, both in the sky and alongside the boat along with a nearby bright planet. The moon broke past the clouds about 0330, once again startling me since in it's crescent shape it appeared like a sail. There was another sail boat heading the same direction off the starboard side, which, after beating us to port, waited for us to lead the way in to the ICW.
Dawn on a Saturday morning brought fleets of fishermen, all in a rush to get out first. There was wave after wave of them, and as we passed the ICW going south, the river was swarming with lights. Poor fish don't have a chance!
We both were up for the section going up river. The new navigator software was nifty since, with a route plotted, we no longer had to decide which set of buoys we wanted. The other sailboat was still a way back behind us. I left Leonard on watch once we approached Adams Creek. He reported that the boat behind, a 44'er, passed us in the creek. Then came the fog. I missed it, I must have taken the changes in engine rpm to be slowing for overtaking boats. The other boat once again let Leonard do all the work and pick out the way in the fog. By the time I came back on watch, we were in the Pamlico Sound, heading for Ocracoke since the wind hadn't made an appearance.
We were able to sail briefly when the wind came up from the south as we were on the approach to the Ocracoke Channel. Of course we had to start the engine to get in to port since the channel runs north/south. We were tied up to the park dock by 1600, having gone 129 nautical miles in the past 24 hours. As we entered Silver Lake we saw Greg Eurich's Argonauta, anchored in the lake. We'd have to get together and compare winter sailing tales. He's been a port or 2 ahead of us since we got back in the states.
Argonauta at anchor in Silver Lake at Ocracoke
The aftermath of Andrea has left a toll. We heard reports of a search for 2 kyackers off Port Royal Sound, not far from where the storm hit the coast. After several days, word came they'd found 1 person and the kayak, but were still looking for a person in the water. We've also heard continual reports to BOLF a 54' blue sail boat with 4 POB named Flying Colors. The EPIRB went off on May 7. We don't understand the delay between receiving the EPIRB signal and the SAR. I would hope such a signal would be taken as a mayday or pan pan, with the assumption that lives were in danger. The Coast Guard does not respond to normal calls other than to request details, that everyone don a life jacket, the captain drop an anchor, and an offer to alert a tow service or call someone. Our adage is that it's best not to need to call them for help, but to get yourself out of any none life threatening situation.
I can also only imagine the toll on migrating birds who didn't find a safe haven, since I can't see how they could continue to fly under those weather conditions. Hopefully this next front will not work itself into a tropical depression.
I am sad to report that the tired palm warbler didn't make it. I found him by the chocolate container in the salon as we left Charleston. We gave him a creek side burial at Toomer Creek. I can only hope his final moments were more peaceful than going down at sea.
From Norfolk May 17,2007
First of all I have correction. The Coast Guard did indeed begin a search for Flying Colors after receiving the EBIRB alert about 0300 on May 7. However, they lost contact with the signal about 0700 that morning. The type of EPIRB aboard Flying Colors would have given the location, but by the time rescue craft arrived, the signal had been lost. They searched a large area, but found no sign of the vessel, people or life raft. What we heard were calls in case anyone had heard the distress call or had had contact with the vessel. The official SAR was been called off, although it would appear that other folks were still looking and hoping. Flying Colors was being delivered from the Virgin Islands to the Washington DC area by a professional crew with 2 qualified captains and a crew of 2 young women. It was reportedly owned by an influential person in the Capital. However, the conditions developed quickly and were somewhat unexpected (earlier forecasts had been for a high pressure system to move off the coast which generally means good weather.) We didn't hear if the cruising weather gurus saw it coming in time to warn those who were already in transit. The forecasts we heard shortly before the storm hit called for hurricane force winds in the Gulf Stream with horrendous seas developing since the NE wind was going against the stream.
We also heard of other rescues from the storm. One sail boat was lost with the crew rescued off the Outer Banks. They were aboard a "new to them" boat and attempted to get into port, but the engine failed, forcing them to head back east to get away from the lee shore only to have the steering fail. That boat washed ashore later on the Outer Banks. Cape Hatteras is not a good place to be in a developing storm.
Shells with sand ridges from the NE winds
We spent 3 nights at Ocracoke. The wind blew from the NE, making it difficult for us to head north on Monday as we'd planned. We had dinner with Greg and Michele on Sunday. Leonard and I tried the local Thai takeout place for lunch, and it was so good, that we decided to get dinner there as well, and bring it back to Antares. We spent a fun evening catching up with them. Argonauta will be hauled later this month at Deltaville.
Just before dinner, another sail boat arrived in the harbor and made for the park docks opposite us. Since it was windy, we lent a hand with the docking. Perhaps it was a new boat, but even so, they seemed unprepared. The wind had been blowing into the 20's all day and they approached the windward side of the dock with one fender at the stern quarter of the boat and a bow line attached to the deck cleat. The captain came in tentatively, then hit the throttle when he lost steerage in the wind. I grabbed the bow line and while trying to get it around the short piling, he reversed hard. Unable to wrap the line on the piling or hold the boat, the line slid over the top of the piling as I attempted to move the line to a cleat, which sent me flat on my back. Meanwhile, they had crunched into the dock, tearing the aluminum rub rail off the boat. Michele grabbed my line and managed to get it cleated. (The docks were designed for large boats or ferries and have only a few, widely spaced big cleats along with the pilings and can be difficult to approach under good conditions.)
Greg was handed the spring line which wasn't attached to the boat. Eventually we got them tied up, but the captain was more intrested in the dock fees. When I told him it was $1.25/ft, plus $3 for 30 amp electric, he wanted to go to the marina where the cost was the same and he thought there'd be more protection from the wind. The fee used to be $.50, but water and power were added several years ago. At that point we left them to sort themselves out. Meanwhile I am operating at about half speed, nursing a stiff and sore back. It would have been nice if they'd at least said thank you, but maybe they thought we should've handled the lines better and not allowed the boat to hit the dock.
With the winds still blowing from the NE and the sound awash with whitecaps on Monday, we decided we'd done enough going to weather on this trip, and stayed until Tuesday when S winds were forecast. We walked out the beach but the wind was blowing the sand such that we were being sand blasted, so we didn't stay long. I had heard on NPR that a container ship had lost at least 7 containers in the storm. Stryofoam pieces from the containers were washing up on the Atlantic beachs and feared to be an enviormental hazard to marine life should the small pieces be mistaken for food. The urban myth is that containers lost overboard sink, not making a hazard to navigation, but realistically, they are watertight to protect the contents. Most likely they hover just at the surface and the likihood off spotting them offshore is nil.
Styrofoam pieces in the surf
Greg and Michele both had Down Tube folding bikes which they really liked. I'd seen an article in the local paper that these bikes were being sold in town. We'd found the shop on Sunday morning and took a test ride on the smallest of the bikes (16" wheels). The man in the shop was the designer/fabricator/sales rep who is a math professor in the Philly area and an ex bike racer. He'd been teaching in North Carolina for the school year and decided to set up shop in Ocracoke since it's an interesting place and most of his sales are via the internet or phone. He started designing a folding bike to use when he traveled and has been improving and adding to the line, and getting a lot of sales. Only a few bike shops are dealers and the shop Ocracoke was just being set up. We did a trial ride and Leonard tried to get a price reduction which wasn't accepted.
Rather than make an impulse purchase on Sunday, Leonard did some checking on the internet and looking at the bikes sold at West Marine and other options. We went back to the shop on Monday to look at them again, and got two. They're rather cool looking, mint green, with 8 speeds, are constructed from aluminum which makes them light weight, and are quite nice to ride. They fold up small enough to fit either in the back cabin or the shower in their nifty carry bags. We spent time riding around Ocracoke on Monday, and once we reached Manteo on Tuesday, we used them to get groceries. We took a long ride around Baum Point, looking at the houses, Wednesday morning before we departed.
An interesting tree carving by the nature center on Ocracoke
We had great sailing to Manteo on Tuesday, and to Coinjock on Wednesday. The winds weren't quite as forecast (light and variable going to the South in the p.m.) but 20 knots out of the south which started early and gave us a fast run. We'd hoped to tie up on the free town docks at Manteo, but those docks were exposed to the winds and waves so we went to the town marina. Argonauta had taken one look at the situation and opted to continue on for Elizabeth City. The other boat that had been anchored next to Argonauta at Ocracoke and left with us in the morning, slid into the slip next to us for the night.
The wind went more to the west during the night, so after spending the first 5 miles going into the wind and waves, we cleared the shoals and turn down wind for a nice sail to Coinjock. With winds forecast to shift to the N during the night and blow 15 - 20, we hunkered down at Coinjock for the night, hoping the weather would hold off long enough for us to get across the shallow water in Currituck Sound before the winds shifted.
Interestingly, we tied up behind another Sabre 362. Aboard was a single hander who did the Bahamas last year, the Caribbean this winter, and is headed for Nova Scotia this summer. He also hoped to get further north before the wind switched and planned on an early morning departure.
It should have been a quiet night. For the first time we weren't assigned to the boondocks. The marina has a couple of small basins for local boats with transient dockage on the waterfront. It is a hike to walk from the north dock where we've usually been assigned, to the store, showers and laundry facility. This time we were right by the restaurant. Unfortunately, several people were having a rousing good time on the outdoor deck that ran past my bed time. Then at 0100 I heard voices just off the bow. They were close enough that I poked Leonard and we both grabbed clothes and stuck our heads out.
A TowBoatUS tow boat was trying to dock a large sail boat behind us -a tricky feat given the darkness and current. In a moment of boat preservation we went to grab the lines. The man on deck apologized for his bad line tosses, saying he'd hurt his shoulder. It is also hard to see and catch a dark line at night. On the next pass we got lines and with more boaters hearing the commotion, we had enough hands to get the boat secured. It sounded like a long story including engine failure and a complicated tow, but we were more interested in sleep than details since we planned to depart at first light.
At 0530 I heard footsteps on the dock, the owner of Barefoot, the Sabre in front of us was working on getting his lines off the pilings. I poked Leonard and we rolled out of the bunk, got things ready to depart and actually were the first boat to leave the dock. Thankfully, the winds hadn't materialized as forecast and it was an easy motor to Norfolk. We even managed to time things right to make the bridges and the lock on this part of the ICW without the hurry up and wait of past trips. We need to clear the bridges on the half hour openings (which we did) in order to arrive for the hourly opening at Great Bridge lock. We couldn't have timed our departure better if we tried, (and we hadn't.) With our early start, we easily arrived before the 1530 restrictions begin at the Norfolk area bridges.
After taking on fuel in Portsmouth we debated heading further north since it was still early. When I called the yacht club in Hampton I was told they no longer take reservations, but we were welcome to grab a "T" dock if one was free. Much as Leonard wanted a bike ride, we decided to anchor off Hospital Point at Norfolk rather than risk a late arrival and no space. The current in the Hampton River makes for a tricky anchorage. Perhaps we'll head there in the morning if the winds are as strong as forecast rather than try to bash our way further north.
The weekend forecast called for moderating and more westerly winds which would make for a pleasant sail. We heard a rumor while getting fuel that the C&D Canal was shut down after a collision between a sail boat and a tug which sank the sailboat (crew of 3 rescued by the tug). We'll have to do some checking on the internet, but can't imagine it would remain closed long since it is used by big ships regularly. The story was the sail boat had anchored for the night on the Chesapeake side of the canal, but apparently weren't quite as far out of the channel as they thought. The tug hit the bow and the boat, a classic wooden design, sank almost immediately. The canal was only closed for a short time as the yacht's insurance company chose to raise it since it was a hazzard to navigation.
I also pointed out to Leonard that the bikes will be an even more expensive proposition if we tie up at marinas regularly to make riding easier. Perhaps a better solution, although not cheap, would be to get a better dinghy so we can ferry the bikes ashore with out drenching either us or the bikes. Also to amortize the expense, we'll need to make more trips, and this is at the point in the trip where he always says he's done this enough. Time will tell. They are nice riding and he likes to go exploring but says his feet hurt when we do it on foot. October is a long way off, and like childbirth, the good part is what we tend to remember.
From Cape May, NJ May 24,2007
After dinner Saturday evening we headed for the great Italian deli that we'd tried for lunch to take advantage of their $1 gelato cones from 5-7 p.m. However, in spite of having plenty of time to make the 7:00 cutoff, we were delayed by a freak accident just past the marina.
We heard people talking at the edge of the parking lot, but didn't pay attention until, as we went under the highway ramps, we saw what appeared to be an under world creature writhing in the mud under the bridge. It took a moment for things to register, but what we were observing was a motor cyclist who'd somehow gone over the chest high, solid cement guard rail, some 60 feet overhead. What gave the scene away was his helmet, the only thing that wasn't completely covered with pluff mud (an especially soft, stinky, tidal sludge indigenous to the area). We must have just missed the flying debris that the people by the building had seen.
One of the dock hands from the marina waded out to help, and after getting his legs coated from the thigh on down, climbed up on the bridge abutments to assess the situation. There was someone above on the ramp yelling to the cyclist to just stay there until help came. The problem was the tide was coming in and he was pinned underwater from the waist down. In all, 7 squad cars, a fire truck, an ambulance, the Coast Guard, an air boat and a bicycle cop responded to the scene (that was at our level, there were more above on the bridge).
Fireman working to free Motorcyclist from the mud
(Charleston Post and Courier Photo)
I was glad not to have to do the laundry for the firemen, be the EMT that got to ride in back with him, or to have been the staff in the ER where they would have to spray him down before assessing for damage. Two firemen got the thankless job of going back out in the mud and rising water to search for personal effects. They also helped the dock hand ashore, using a long plank and another back board to provide passage in the rising water.
Sunday morning brought decision time, to stay in Charleston or try to head north and find a secure anchorage in case the dire weather forecasts we were now hearing, were correct. It wasn't windy in the marina, but a large building on shore provides a bit of a wind break. We finally decided to head north since we've sat out heavy weather in the anchorage in Whiteside Creek by Capers Island in the past. We tried to get a spot at the marina on Isle of the Palms when we passed, but they were full.
By mistake, we pulled into the creek just south of Whiteside Creek where another boat was already anchored. Neither of us thought it looked quite right (a lot narrower and more shallow, and I could see the park dock on Capers) but hadn't said anything. There were trees growing on the north embankment that would provide protection from the N to NE winds. We set the anchor so we were in the middle of the creek, and decided it looked fine, even if we weren't exactly where we'd planned to be. We set a second anchor before dark and then hunkered down to see how accurate the weather forecasters were.
We were glad for the second anchor when the wind blew into the 30's in the middle of the night. It wasn't the most restful of nights, but the anchors held. We were glad not to be stuck on the bank just behind the boat. We departed in the morning, heading for a marina in Georgetown, since the storm seemed to be gaining strength. We would have slept better if we'd known how well the plow was buried, it almost tripped the windlass breaker before it finally came free when we left.
There wasn't much traffic on the ICW. A few power boats passed us heading north, but the few sailboats we saw were either heading south or hunkered down in various anchorages. It was windy, but it wasn't a problem until we reached the Winyah River where we dealt with wind against the current and got the decks salt coated again. We did sail one stretch before the river turned north. We were glad to reach Georgetown and get settled at a dock since the weathermen continualed revising the forecast for the worse.
After getting checked in, we noticed we were on a dock with 2 Sabre 38s and we all declared a dock take over! There was an Island Packet 42 with 3 or 4 men aboard who'd arrived earlier in the day after attempting to reach Southport, NC. They'd been offshore doing a Miami-Southport run when the storm caught up with them. With steady 35 knot winds with gusts into the 40s and 18 foot seas, they found themselves sailing slowly backward, especially on the up side of the waves. They'd gotten a bit north of the Winyah Bay entrance and decided it was too dangerous to continue offshore. They departed early the next morning, but I suspect in the ICW.
Merlin - one of the Sabre 38s passing us on the Winyah River
The next day we held a boat show on the dock with nibblies and drinks so we could compare the differences between the 3 Sabres. The other 2 were 1980's vintage boats built 2 years apart. One had the standard 2 cabin, forward head, aft galley configuration common for the period, the other had a galley/head arrangement at mid ship with a more open cabin. We started at 1630 in order to be finished in time for dinner. The folks from the 2 trawlers on the dock joined the show, and by the time we were done, it was 2100. So much for an early evening. Along with the Sabres, we toured a Great Harbor 37 and an American Tug 34. A good time was had by all.
Winyah River - there were fences blocking creeks
We were the first off the dock in the morning with the others soon following. We'd have to use the ICW route since the wind and waves were still too high to consider heading offshore. We'd never done this stretch of the ICW in the past. The river portion was beautiful, a lot like the nice part of the Dismal Swamp route or portions of the Hudson or rivers in the Chesapeake. The land cut we could have done without. We had a marina reservation north of the section referred to as the "rock pile". It was going to be a long day, but in spite of the head winds, we would make it. Or could have.
Fancy tour boat on the river
We ran afoul of the swing bridge at Barefoot Landing where the bridge tender refused to open citing strong winds. Leonard attempted to argue, since our wind readings are 54 feet above the water (not much lower than the top of the bridge) were only 20 Knots of wind. The bridge tender claimed we only knew what the wind was like at the surface. Apparently he'd had problems getting the bridge back in the road configuration after he'd opened for some boats at 1130. Arguing is futile since the bridge tender has the control.
We canceled our slip reservation and looked to see what was available by the bridge. We'd heard the dock the night before, that used to be free by the factory outlet mall, was now charging a fee, but other than power and water had no facilities. We talked to the dock master there and he said he could put us up for less money at some pilings. Since there was a much nicer marina across the way we went there when offered a 25% Boat U.S. discount. It had a huge pool and hot tub along with shower and laundry facilities. I hadn't wanted to shop at the outlet center across the way anyway! It also turned out that the resort owner was from Stowe, and knew the Caldwells, friends of ours, that used to live there. More Vermont connections.
Boats heading through the pontoon bridge
After looking at the distance to Wrightsville Beach we thought we'd need 2 days, but with the wind lighter and current more in our favor we pushed a bit harder and did it in a long day. We had 2 more bridges that needed to be opened and also to transit the section referred to as the "rock pile". It is a notorious section of narrow channel that is bordered by rock ledges that are under water at high tide. The goal is to stay in the middle, and to avoid meeting or passing situations if possible. We were glad to reach the pontoon bridge on the other end where we caught up with most of the boats that had left earlier, but missed the 0900 opening. We were able to set sail in the Wilmington River portion of the trip. I also watched clouds of ibis flash white in the sky, turn and disappear from sight, then suddenly reappear. I don't recall seeing so many of them in one place before. We arrived at the anchorage in Wrightsville Beach shortly after 1700.
After dinner we dinghied ashore for frozen custard and a walk on the beach. The storm left it's mark on the beach with erosion and piles of broken shells strewn about. The beach had more people on it than in past visits, perhaps because the weather had been so bad a few days ago. The surf was still up and a number of surfers were out taking advantage of it.
Wrightsville Beach
Most of the cruisers departed bright and early in the morning. We planned to go offshore to avoid the series of bridges and possible delay at the Camp Lejuene firing range. After checking the weather we decided to leave with the tide in the afternoon, aiming for a dawn arrival at Beaufort, NC. We'd continue north, heading for Ocracoke, if possible, with Belhaven as an alternate for the place to sit out the next cold front due on Sunday evening, bringing another batch of windy weather.
With little to no wind we were left with the seas and swell from Andrea. After a few hours of slow sailing, we reverted to motoring. Other than the rocky motion, it wasn't bad, and as far as we're concerned, it beat trying to time the inconveniently spaced bridges. When I came on watch the stars were reflecting in the undulating swells. I could see the star Antares in the constellation Scorpion, both in the sky and alongside the boat along with a nearby bright planet. The moon broke past the clouds about 0330, once again startling me since in it's crescent shape it appeared like a sail. There was another sail boat heading the same direction off the starboard side, which, after beating us to port, waited for us to lead the way in to the ICW.
Dawn on a Saturday morning brought fleets of fishermen, all in a rush to get out first. There was wave after wave of them, and as we passed the ICW going south, the river was swarming with lights. Poor fish don't have a chance!
We both were up for the section going up river. The new navigator software was nifty since, with a route plotted, we no longer had to decide which set of buoys we wanted. The other sailboat was still a way back behind us. I left Leonard on watch once we approached Adams Creek. He reported that the boat behind, a 44'er, passed us in the creek. Then came the fog. I missed it, I must have taken the changes in engine rpm to be slowing for overtaking boats. The other boat once again let Leonard do all the work and pick out the way in the fog. By the time I came back on watch, we were in the Pamlico Sound, heading for Ocracoke since the wind hadn't made an appearance.
We were able to sail briefly when the wind came up from the south as we were on the approach to the Ocracoke Channel. Of course we had to start the engine to get in to port since the channel runs north/south. We were tied up to the park dock by 1600, having gone 129 nautical miles in the past 24 hours. As we entered Silver Lake we saw Greg Eurich's Argonauta, anchored in the lake. We'd have to get together and compare winter sailing tales. He's been a port or 2 ahead of us since we got back in the states.
Argonauta at anchor in Silver Lake at Ocracoke
The aftermath of Andrea has left a toll. We heard reports of a search for 2 kyackers off Port Royal Sound, not far from where the storm hit the coast. After several days, word came they'd found 1 person and the kayak, but were still looking for a person in the water. We've also heard continual reports to BOLF a 54' blue sail boat with 4 POB named Flying Colors. The EPIRB went off on May 7. We don't understand the delay between receiving the EPIRB signal and the SAR. I would hope such a signal would be taken as a mayday or pan pan, with the assumption that lives were in danger. The Coast Guard does not respond to normal calls other than to request details, that everyone don a life jacket, the captain drop an anchor, and an offer to alert a tow service or call someone. Our adage is that it's best not to need to call them for help, but to get yourself out of any none life threatening situation.
I can also only imagine the toll on migrating birds who didn't find a safe haven, since I can't see how they could continue to fly under those weather conditions. Hopefully this next front will not work itself into a tropical depression.
I am sad to report that the tired palm warbler didn't make it. I found him by the chocolate container in the salon as we left Charleston. We gave him a creek side burial at Toomer Creek. I can only hope his final moments were more peaceful than going down at sea.
From Norfolk May 17,2007
First of all I have correction. The Coast Guard did indeed begin a search for Flying Colors after receiving the EBIRB alert about 0300 on May 7. However, they lost contact with the signal about 0700 that morning. The type of EPIRB aboard Flying Colors would have given the location, but by the time rescue craft arrived, the signal had been lost. They searched a large area, but found no sign of the vessel, people or life raft. What we heard were calls in case anyone had heard the distress call or had had contact with the vessel. The official SAR was been called off, although it would appear that other folks were still looking and hoping. Flying Colors was being delivered from the Virgin Islands to the Washington DC area by a professional crew with 2 qualified captains and a crew of 2 young women. It was reportedly owned by an influential person in the Capital. However, the conditions developed quickly and were somewhat unexpected (earlier forecasts had been for a high pressure system to move off the coast which generally means good weather.) We didn't hear if the cruising weather gurus saw it coming in time to warn those who were already in transit. The forecasts we heard shortly before the storm hit called for hurricane force winds in the Gulf Stream with horrendous seas developing since the NE wind was going against the stream.
We also heard of other rescues from the storm. One sail boat was lost with the crew rescued off the Outer Banks. They were aboard a "new to them" boat and attempted to get into port, but the engine failed, forcing them to head back east to get away from the lee shore only to have the steering fail. That boat washed ashore later on the Outer Banks. Cape Hatteras is not a good place to be in a developing storm.
Shells with sand ridges from the NE winds
We spent 3 nights at Ocracoke. The wind blew from the NE, making it difficult for us to head north on Monday as we'd planned. We had dinner with Greg and Michele on Sunday. Leonard and I tried the local Thai takeout place for lunch, and it was so good, that we decided to get dinner there as well, and bring it back to Antares. We spent a fun evening catching up with them. Argonauta will be hauled later this month at Deltaville.
Just before dinner, another sail boat arrived in the harbor and made for the park docks opposite us. Since it was windy, we lent a hand with the docking. Perhaps it was a new boat, but even so, they seemed unprepared. The wind had been blowing into the 20's all day and they approached the windward side of the dock with one fender at the stern quarter of the boat and a bow line attached to the deck cleat. The captain came in tentatively, then hit the throttle when he lost steerage in the wind. I grabbed the bow line and while trying to get it around the short piling, he reversed hard. Unable to wrap the line on the piling or hold the boat, the line slid over the top of the piling as I attempted to move the line to a cleat, which sent me flat on my back. Meanwhile, they had crunched into the dock, tearing the aluminum rub rail off the boat. Michele grabbed my line and managed to get it cleated. (The docks were designed for large boats or ferries and have only a few, widely spaced big cleats along with the pilings and can be difficult to approach under good conditions.)
Greg was handed the spring line which wasn't attached to the boat. Eventually we got them tied up, but the captain was more intrested in the dock fees. When I told him it was $1.25/ft, plus $3 for 30 amp electric, he wanted to go to the marina where the cost was the same and he thought there'd be more protection from the wind. The fee used to be $.50, but water and power were added several years ago. At that point we left them to sort themselves out. Meanwhile I am operating at about half speed, nursing a stiff and sore back. It would have been nice if they'd at least said thank you, but maybe they thought we should've handled the lines better and not allowed the boat to hit the dock.
With the winds still blowing from the NE and the sound awash with whitecaps on Monday, we decided we'd done enough going to weather on this trip, and stayed until Tuesday when S winds were forecast. We walked out the beach but the wind was blowing the sand such that we were being sand blasted, so we didn't stay long. I had heard on NPR that a container ship had lost at least 7 containers in the storm. Stryofoam pieces from the containers were washing up on the Atlantic beachs and feared to be an enviormental hazard to marine life should the small pieces be mistaken for food. The urban myth is that containers lost overboard sink, not making a hazard to navigation, but realistically, they are watertight to protect the contents. Most likely they hover just at the surface and the likihood off spotting them offshore is nil.
Styrofoam pieces in the surf
Greg and Michele both had Down Tube folding bikes which they really liked. I'd seen an article in the local paper that these bikes were being sold in town. We'd found the shop on Sunday morning and took a test ride on the smallest of the bikes (16" wheels). The man in the shop was the designer/fabricator/sales rep who is a math professor in the Philly area and an ex bike racer. He'd been teaching in North Carolina for the school year and decided to set up shop in Ocracoke since it's an interesting place and most of his sales are via the internet or phone. He started designing a folding bike to use when he traveled and has been improving and adding to the line, and getting a lot of sales. Only a few bike shops are dealers and the shop Ocracoke was just being set up. We did a trial ride and Leonard tried to get a price reduction which wasn't accepted.
Rather than make an impulse purchase on Sunday, Leonard did some checking on the internet and looking at the bikes sold at West Marine and other options. We went back to the shop on Monday to look at them again, and got two. They're rather cool looking, mint green, with 8 speeds, are constructed from aluminum which makes them light weight, and are quite nice to ride. They fold up small enough to fit either in the back cabin or the shower in their nifty carry bags. We spent time riding around Ocracoke on Monday, and once we reached Manteo on Tuesday, we used them to get groceries. We took a long ride around Baum Point, looking at the houses, Wednesday morning before we departed.
An interesting tree carving by the nature center on Ocracoke
We had great sailing to Manteo on Tuesday, and to Coinjock on Wednesday. The winds weren't quite as forecast (light and variable going to the South in the p.m.) but 20 knots out of the south which started early and gave us a fast run. We'd hoped to tie up on the free town docks at Manteo, but those docks were exposed to the winds and waves so we went to the town marina. Argonauta had taken one look at the situation and opted to continue on for Elizabeth City. The other boat that had been anchored next to Argonauta at Ocracoke and left with us in the morning, slid into the slip next to us for the night.
The wind went more to the west during the night, so after spending the first 5 miles going into the wind and waves, we cleared the shoals and turn down wind for a nice sail to Coinjock. With winds forecast to shift to the N during the night and blow 15 - 20, we hunkered down at Coinjock for the night, hoping the weather would hold off long enough for us to get across the shallow water in Currituck Sound before the winds shifted.
Interestingly, we tied up behind another Sabre 362. Aboard was a single hander who did the Bahamas last year, the Caribbean this winter, and is headed for Nova Scotia this summer. He also hoped to get further north before the wind switched and planned on an early morning departure.
It should have been a quiet night. For the first time we weren't assigned to the boondocks. The marina has a couple of small basins for local boats with transient dockage on the waterfront. It is a hike to walk from the north dock where we've usually been assigned, to the store, showers and laundry facility. This time we were right by the restaurant. Unfortunately, several people were having a rousing good time on the outdoor deck that ran past my bed time. Then at 0100 I heard voices just off the bow. They were close enough that I poked Leonard and we both grabbed clothes and stuck our heads out.
A TowBoatUS tow boat was trying to dock a large sail boat behind us -a tricky feat given the darkness and current. In a moment of boat preservation we went to grab the lines. The man on deck apologized for his bad line tosses, saying he'd hurt his shoulder. It is also hard to see and catch a dark line at night. On the next pass we got lines and with more boaters hearing the commotion, we had enough hands to get the boat secured. It sounded like a long story including engine failure and a complicated tow, but we were more interested in sleep than details since we planned to depart at first light.
At 0530 I heard footsteps on the dock, the owner of Barefoot, the Sabre in front of us was working on getting his lines off the pilings. I poked Leonard and we rolled out of the bunk, got things ready to depart and actually were the first boat to leave the dock. Thankfully, the winds hadn't materialized as forecast and it was an easy motor to Norfolk. We even managed to time things right to make the bridges and the lock on this part of the ICW without the hurry up and wait of past trips. We need to clear the bridges on the half hour openings (which we did) in order to arrive for the hourly opening at Great Bridge lock. We couldn't have timed our departure better if we tried, (and we hadn't.) With our early start, we easily arrived before the 1530 restrictions begin at the Norfolk area bridges.
After taking on fuel in Portsmouth we debated heading further north since it was still early. When I called the yacht club in Hampton I was told they no longer take reservations, but we were welcome to grab a "T" dock if one was free. Much as Leonard wanted a bike ride, we decided to anchor off Hospital Point at Norfolk rather than risk a late arrival and no space. The current in the Hampton River makes for a tricky anchorage. Perhaps we'll head there in the morning if the winds are as strong as forecast rather than try to bash our way further north.
The weekend forecast called for moderating and more westerly winds which would make for a pleasant sail. We heard a rumor while getting fuel that the C&D Canal was shut down after a collision between a sail boat and a tug which sank the sailboat (crew of 3 rescued by the tug). We'll have to do some checking on the internet, but can't imagine it would remain closed long since it is used by big ships regularly. The story was the sail boat had anchored for the night on the Chesapeake side of the canal, but apparently weren't quite as far out of the channel as they thought. The tug hit the bow and the boat, a classic wooden design, sank almost immediately. The canal was only closed for a short time as the yacht's insurance company chose to raise it since it was a hazzard to navigation.
I also pointed out to Leonard that the bikes will be an even more expensive proposition if we tie up at marinas regularly to make riding easier. Perhaps a better solution, although not cheap, would be to get a better dinghy so we can ferry the bikes ashore with out drenching either us or the bikes. Also to amortize the expense, we'll need to make more trips, and this is at the point in the trip where he always says he's done this enough. Time will tell. They are nice riding and he likes to go exploring but says his feet hurt when we do it on foot. October is a long way off, and like childbirth, the good part is what we tend to remember.
From Cape May, NJ May 24,2007
Waking
up to showers at Norfolk on Friday morning, along with a forecast of
strong
N winds and cold temperatures on the Bay, was enough to cause us to
roll
back over in the bunk and hunker down for the day. We finally got
up
when a helicopter persisted in hovering in our general vicinity.
A tall
ship was being escorted to the dock at Waterside, just across the way
from us. We watched as the tug maneuvered it in to the dock
behind the
Spirit of Norfolk. When Leonard checked on line he read that it
was the
Spanish vessel, E. Juan Sebastian de Elcano, taking part of the 400th
anniversary celebration
of the founding Jamestown.
E. Juan Sabastain de Elcano docked in Norfolk
When the rain finally quit in the afternoon, we launched the dinghy to check out Norfolk and the tall ship. The guide book mentioned a dinghy dock by Nauticus, the maritime museum, but what we found looked a bit grander than we were expecting. There were nice floating docks with water and power, however to get to them required going under a walkway connecting the second floor of the buildings, something we could easily do in the dinghy, but not in Antares. We asked and got permission use the dock at the museum and learned the docks were an addition to the Waterside Marina.
A big tent had been set up at Town Point Park for a beer festival starting the next day. There was a stage and musicians were setting up for an invitation only dinner being held Friday night as we walked past.
This high tech boat was docked across from the tall ship and is similiar in design to the single handed around the world racers
We walked over to the tall ship whose bow sprit extended above and beyond the sidewalk. There would be tours over the weekend, but we planned to be gone by then. We wandered through Waterside Place and after picking up a map, headed for old Norfolk. After wandering past St. Paul's church where the British fired a cannon ball in 1776 which is still lodged in a wall, we discovered MacArthur Place is a huge mall. Not needing anything, we wandered back out and headed for the Freemason historic district.
In spite of the gray weather, the gardens were nice and we enjoyed looking at the various houses. Eventually we discovered the Pagoda Garden Tea House that was built from a huge molasses vat. The pagoda and gardens surrounding it were a gift from China to celebrate ties with Norfolk. The garden was beautiful. It had a large koi pond and all the plantings had identifying placards.
The mermaid by the tall ship
Norfolk has a series of mermaid sculptures installed around town. They've been done by local artists and tell a story of a mermaid in search of love and happiness if you follow them in order. (A book has been written telling the tale.) The project was inspired by Chicago's Cows on Parade and has come to symbolize the revitalization of Norfolk and the profits from mermaid related sales are used to support local arts groups.
Mermaid in the Chinese garden
By the time we headed back to the dinghy, it was drizzling again so we were ready to return to the boat. A number of new boats had joined the handful of us at anchor. It was interesting to note that on either side of us was a dark hulled sailboat named Topaz. One was from Amsterdam and the other from Connecticut. At 2200 we were treated to front row seats for a fireworks display at Harbor Park. Not a bad day for one that started out so damp and gray.
We were up at the crack of dawn hoping to get headed up the bay. Topaz from CT was hauling anchor too, but had caught the anchor line of a large trawler and needed to wait for a diver to clear their line. A cruise ship was in the process of docking at Natuicus as we departed. Norfolk is now a cruise destination! The area has done a lot to promote tourism in recent years.
There was a sailboat at the edge of the channel that appeared to have arrived during the night and dropped the hook in a hurry. The anchor wasn't holding and they were drifting into the shipping channel. We motored past and tried alerting them with an air horn, but weren't able to rouse anyone. I notified the Coast Guard who eventually sent someone over to check to wake them up and get re-anchored.
We weren't sure how far north we'd get with the forecast still calling for N winds. We hoped to reach Deltaville and were pleasantly surprised to find conditions not as bad as the forecast would have indicated on the bay. After learning that our friends on their trawler had passed us at Norfolk, we headed further north to Fleet's Bay for the night. There are several creeks with lovely anchorages that we've enjoyed in the past. The extra miles traveled would make for an earlier arrival at Solomon's Island the next day where we needed to reprovision.
The next day, the W wind was more NW than W, and spent the day going between 10 and 25 knots. We sailed, but were required to reef, unreef and rereef in order to have the right amount of sail up. It was 1700 by the time we were anchored back by the dinghy dock at Solomons. Interestingly, this year most of the boats anchored were trawlers, usually it's sailboats.
Rather than haul out the motor and all the necessary parts, we paddled the dinghy into the dock. Our late arrival meant the dock person who collects the docking fee was gone for the day. We hiked up to Woodburns to restock our larder and stopped by Jethros to pick up some pulled barbecued pork.
We'd waited until morning to pump out at the town dock, hoping there'd be less wind for the docking. There was, and we were underway bright and early. The forecast was for 15-20 knot N winds for the morning, calming down some in the afternoon. The wind didn't really start to blow until we were out on the bay. Then, finally having a bit of current in our favor, we had the wind against the current, making big lumpy waves. Both of us had thought about waiting until later in the day when the winds weren't as strong to leave, but hadn't said anything. It would have been a good idea. We finally got tired of banging into the waves and headed up the Little Choptank and called it quits for the day. We had a pleasant sail once we headed up the river to an anchorage.
Underway at sunrise on the Little Choptank River
In the morning, a waterman made a close pass by the boat about 0500, and since we wanted to get an early start, we got going. Life is much easier when the wind isn't blowing in your face. Light winds and calm waters make for easy going. We probably used as much fuel going into the waves for 15 miles as we do for a long day in calmer conditions. There was just enough wind to hold the sails out and boost our speed a bit.
Most of the day we were blessed with a north flowing current, not strong, but we'll take any help we can get. We hoped to get through the C & D Canal, but once past the Sassafras River, the current switched making it impossible to reach the Reedy Island anchorage on the other side before dark. It was a delightful surprise to pull into the basin at Chesapeake City and find a spot on the town dock. It's always been full in the past. Now we could take a walk after dinner and the morning's departure would be easier, not needing to wash the mud off the chain and anchor.
The restaurant and bar at the marina was packed, and our walk through town indicated everyone in town must have been there. The town is interesting with lots of small homes that were built in the mid 1800's, all neatly maintained with nice gardens. We would gone for a bike ride, but were too tired after our 14 hour day. We didn't even notice the live music at the marina once we crawled into our bunk.
In order to take advantage of the current flowing out the Delaware Bay, we'd need another early start since the current in the canal would be flowing west. This time I think it must have been a passing barge that had us rolling at 0500, but I didn't hear it pass. Unusual, but an effective wake up call, as it got us up.
We reached the Delaware Bay by 0745, and managed to use the sails briefly before the SE wind piped up. It's hard to get everything in our favor, so we dealt with the lumpy seas kicked up by the wind against the current (and on the nose), but it's hard to gripe when the speed over the ground hovers around 8 knots.
Naturally, things like tides and currents turn and the speed drops. It would have been a great sail had the weather guys gotten the wind direction and speed correct. It supposed to be from the S at 5-10, but in reality it was SE at 15, giving us an apparent wind of 20 plus, smack on the nose. We reverted to motoring and spent the best part of the day going up and down while trying to reach Cape May. A wet sloppy slog. We cut across the flats on the New Jersey side as soon as we cleared the 9 foot spot off south of the abandoned light house structure at Elbow of the Cross shoal to get out of the strongest counter current and the bigger waves.
We'd noticed one sailboat diligently tacking back and forth across the bay all day. It was hard to tell if they were just out for a sail or were actually trying to go south. We met them later (much) at the marina and learned their engine had an overheating problem.
As we got closer to the Cape May canal, I counted about 3 dozen fishing boats out on the bay. Realizing it might be a fishing tourney, we decided to call ahead to the marina to see if a slip was available. Originally we hoped to just top off the fuel tank and head north offshore, but the trip down the Delaware was taking longer and the thought of stopping was tempting. Besides, if we stopped and stayed at a marina, we could bring out the bikes and ride into Cape May which would be a nice way to end the day.
Fishing fleet in the lower Delaware
The waves diminished as we got closer to the New Jersey shore. The tide was down enough so the antennas on the mast cleared the bridges and the current was adding a nice boost to our speed in the canal. With a reservation made, we headed for the fuel dock first. We'd been told it would be a starboard tie up, but they guys on the dock were waving for us to come in on port side. Luckily the wind held us off the dock until we could get the fenders and lines repositioned.
Our attempt to depart the fuel dock became one of those interesting situations that are more fun to observe than handle. As we started to back, the wind caught the bow and the stern slid toward the dock. There wasn't a lot of maneuvering room between the docks and it took a bunch of to-ing, fro-ing and wheel spinning to get turned around. But we did and without touching pilings or docks that always seemed to be in the way. Somebody's got to provide dock side entertainment. Normally Antares backs like a charm, unlike many sailboats, but between the wind and the tight quarters there wasn't room to get enough speed for steerage. Eventually, we got turned around and in a slip for the night.
The sailboat that had been in the slip at the fuel dock managed to exit and then dock singlehanded across from us with minimual difficulty, obviously showing us how it's supposed to be done. However, he had to deal with a different problem when he departed just a head of us in the morning. It's a 90 degree turn to enter or exit the marina and the fence that provides protection makes it difficult to see if other boats are approaching. A sport fish was approaching the entrance just as he left, and going wide, he promptly ran aground on the shoal that lurks there. When last seen, he was sitting, waiting for the tide to come lift him off the bottom.
We got in 2 bike rides. After dinner we headed to town and explored some of Cape May we've not seen on foot. We do get looks and lots of comments from people as we pedal past. In the morning we took a longer ride, out past the Coast Guard station, along the boardwalk and out toward the lighthouse. We saw a great Nature Conserve migration center that was unfortunately closed while they work on improving the freshwater aspect for the migratory birds. It was large, with boardwalks and observation towers, and there were a number of birds making use of the facility in spite of the construction. Not knowing how much farther it was to the light house, we turned back toward town.
Our plan was to stop at the pastry shop in town which had been closed the night before. On our ride I discovered another little bakery which we checked out. I need a sign that says "I brake for bakeries". I think we are well stocked with treats for the remainder of the trip.
Back at the marina, we folded up the bikes and headed out toward the Atlantic at 1100, next stop somewhere in the Hudson. After the trip down the Delaware, I think we paid our dues, so hopefully this leg of the trip will go smoothly.
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E. Juan Sabastain de Elcano docked in Norfolk
When the rain finally quit in the afternoon, we launched the dinghy to check out Norfolk and the tall ship. The guide book mentioned a dinghy dock by Nauticus, the maritime museum, but what we found looked a bit grander than we were expecting. There were nice floating docks with water and power, however to get to them required going under a walkway connecting the second floor of the buildings, something we could easily do in the dinghy, but not in Antares. We asked and got permission use the dock at the museum and learned the docks were an addition to the Waterside Marina.
A big tent had been set up at Town Point Park for a beer festival starting the next day. There was a stage and musicians were setting up for an invitation only dinner being held Friday night as we walked past.
This high tech boat was docked across from the tall ship and is similiar in design to the single handed around the world racers
We walked over to the tall ship whose bow sprit extended above and beyond the sidewalk. There would be tours over the weekend, but we planned to be gone by then. We wandered through Waterside Place and after picking up a map, headed for old Norfolk. After wandering past St. Paul's church where the British fired a cannon ball in 1776 which is still lodged in a wall, we discovered MacArthur Place is a huge mall. Not needing anything, we wandered back out and headed for the Freemason historic district.
Pagoda at the Chinese Gardens
In spite of the gray weather, the gardens were nice and we enjoyed looking at the various houses. Eventually we discovered the Pagoda Garden Tea House that was built from a huge molasses vat. The pagoda and gardens surrounding it were a gift from China to celebrate ties with Norfolk. The garden was beautiful. It had a large koi pond and all the plantings had identifying placards.
The mermaid by the tall ship
Norfolk has a series of mermaid sculptures installed around town. They've been done by local artists and tell a story of a mermaid in search of love and happiness if you follow them in order. (A book has been written telling the tale.) The project was inspired by Chicago's Cows on Parade and has come to symbolize the revitalization of Norfolk and the profits from mermaid related sales are used to support local arts groups.
Mermaid in the Chinese garden
By the time we headed back to the dinghy, it was drizzling again so we were ready to return to the boat. A number of new boats had joined the handful of us at anchor. It was interesting to note that on either side of us was a dark hulled sailboat named Topaz. One was from Amsterdam and the other from Connecticut. At 2200 we were treated to front row seats for a fireworks display at Harbor Park. Not a bad day for one that started out so damp and gray.
We were up at the crack of dawn hoping to get headed up the bay. Topaz from CT was hauling anchor too, but had caught the anchor line of a large trawler and needed to wait for a diver to clear their line. A cruise ship was in the process of docking at Natuicus as we departed. Norfolk is now a cruise destination! The area has done a lot to promote tourism in recent years.
There was a sailboat at the edge of the channel that appeared to have arrived during the night and dropped the hook in a hurry. The anchor wasn't holding and they were drifting into the shipping channel. We motored past and tried alerting them with an air horn, but weren't able to rouse anyone. I notified the Coast Guard who eventually sent someone over to check to wake them up and get re-anchored.
We weren't sure how far north we'd get with the forecast still calling for N winds. We hoped to reach Deltaville and were pleasantly surprised to find conditions not as bad as the forecast would have indicated on the bay. After learning that our friends on their trawler had passed us at Norfolk, we headed further north to Fleet's Bay for the night. There are several creeks with lovely anchorages that we've enjoyed in the past. The extra miles traveled would make for an earlier arrival at Solomon's Island the next day where we needed to reprovision.
The next day, the W wind was more NW than W, and spent the day going between 10 and 25 knots. We sailed, but were required to reef, unreef and rereef in order to have the right amount of sail up. It was 1700 by the time we were anchored back by the dinghy dock at Solomons. Interestingly, this year most of the boats anchored were trawlers, usually it's sailboats.
Rather than haul out the motor and all the necessary parts, we paddled the dinghy into the dock. Our late arrival meant the dock person who collects the docking fee was gone for the day. We hiked up to Woodburns to restock our larder and stopped by Jethros to pick up some pulled barbecued pork.
We'd waited until morning to pump out at the town dock, hoping there'd be less wind for the docking. There was, and we were underway bright and early. The forecast was for 15-20 knot N winds for the morning, calming down some in the afternoon. The wind didn't really start to blow until we were out on the bay. Then, finally having a bit of current in our favor, we had the wind against the current, making big lumpy waves. Both of us had thought about waiting until later in the day when the winds weren't as strong to leave, but hadn't said anything. It would have been a good idea. We finally got tired of banging into the waves and headed up the Little Choptank and called it quits for the day. We had a pleasant sail once we headed up the river to an anchorage.
Underway at sunrise on the Little Choptank River
In the morning, a waterman made a close pass by the boat about 0500, and since we wanted to get an early start, we got going. Life is much easier when the wind isn't blowing in your face. Light winds and calm waters make for easy going. We probably used as much fuel going into the waves for 15 miles as we do for a long day in calmer conditions. There was just enough wind to hold the sails out and boost our speed a bit.
Most of the day we were blessed with a north flowing current, not strong, but we'll take any help we can get. We hoped to get through the C & D Canal, but once past the Sassafras River, the current switched making it impossible to reach the Reedy Island anchorage on the other side before dark. It was a delightful surprise to pull into the basin at Chesapeake City and find a spot on the town dock. It's always been full in the past. Now we could take a walk after dinner and the morning's departure would be easier, not needing to wash the mud off the chain and anchor.
The restaurant and bar at the marina was packed, and our walk through town indicated everyone in town must have been there. The town is interesting with lots of small homes that were built in the mid 1800's, all neatly maintained with nice gardens. We would gone for a bike ride, but were too tired after our 14 hour day. We didn't even notice the live music at the marina once we crawled into our bunk.
In order to take advantage of the current flowing out the Delaware Bay, we'd need another early start since the current in the canal would be flowing west. This time I think it must have been a passing barge that had us rolling at 0500, but I didn't hear it pass. Unusual, but an effective wake up call, as it got us up.
We reached the Delaware Bay by 0745, and managed to use the sails briefly before the SE wind piped up. It's hard to get everything in our favor, so we dealt with the lumpy seas kicked up by the wind against the current (and on the nose), but it's hard to gripe when the speed over the ground hovers around 8 knots.
Naturally, things like tides and currents turn and the speed drops. It would have been a great sail had the weather guys gotten the wind direction and speed correct. It supposed to be from the S at 5-10, but in reality it was SE at 15, giving us an apparent wind of 20 plus, smack on the nose. We reverted to motoring and spent the best part of the day going up and down while trying to reach Cape May. A wet sloppy slog. We cut across the flats on the New Jersey side as soon as we cleared the 9 foot spot off south of the abandoned light house structure at Elbow of the Cross shoal to get out of the strongest counter current and the bigger waves.
We'd noticed one sailboat diligently tacking back and forth across the bay all day. It was hard to tell if they were just out for a sail or were actually trying to go south. We met them later (much) at the marina and learned their engine had an overheating problem.
As we got closer to the Cape May canal, I counted about 3 dozen fishing boats out on the bay. Realizing it might be a fishing tourney, we decided to call ahead to the marina to see if a slip was available. Originally we hoped to just top off the fuel tank and head north offshore, but the trip down the Delaware was taking longer and the thought of stopping was tempting. Besides, if we stopped and stayed at a marina, we could bring out the bikes and ride into Cape May which would be a nice way to end the day.
Fishing fleet in the lower Delaware
The waves diminished as we got closer to the New Jersey shore. The tide was down enough so the antennas on the mast cleared the bridges and the current was adding a nice boost to our speed in the canal. With a reservation made, we headed for the fuel dock first. We'd been told it would be a starboard tie up, but they guys on the dock were waving for us to come in on port side. Luckily the wind held us off the dock until we could get the fenders and lines repositioned.
Our attempt to depart the fuel dock became one of those interesting situations that are more fun to observe than handle. As we started to back, the wind caught the bow and the stern slid toward the dock. There wasn't a lot of maneuvering room between the docks and it took a bunch of to-ing, fro-ing and wheel spinning to get turned around. But we did and without touching pilings or docks that always seemed to be in the way. Somebody's got to provide dock side entertainment. Normally Antares backs like a charm, unlike many sailboats, but between the wind and the tight quarters there wasn't room to get enough speed for steerage. Eventually, we got turned around and in a slip for the night.
The sailboat that had been in the slip at the fuel dock managed to exit and then dock singlehanded across from us with minimual difficulty, obviously showing us how it's supposed to be done. However, he had to deal with a different problem when he departed just a head of us in the morning. It's a 90 degree turn to enter or exit the marina and the fence that provides protection makes it difficult to see if other boats are approaching. A sport fish was approaching the entrance just as he left, and going wide, he promptly ran aground on the shoal that lurks there. When last seen, he was sitting, waiting for the tide to come lift him off the bottom.
We got in 2 bike rides. After dinner we headed to town and explored some of Cape May we've not seen on foot. We do get looks and lots of comments from people as we pedal past. In the morning we took a longer ride, out past the Coast Guard station, along the boardwalk and out toward the lighthouse. We saw a great Nature Conserve migration center that was unfortunately closed while they work on improving the freshwater aspect for the migratory birds. It was large, with boardwalks and observation towers, and there were a number of birds making use of the facility in spite of the construction. Not knowing how much farther it was to the light house, we turned back toward town.
Our plan was to stop at the pastry shop in town which had been closed the night before. On our ride I discovered another little bakery which we checked out. I need a sign that says "I brake for bakeries". I think we are well stocked with treats for the remainder of the trip.
Back at the marina, we folded up the bikes and headed out toward the Atlantic at 1100, next stop somewhere in the Hudson. After the trip down the Delaware, I think we paid our dues, so hopefully this leg of the trip will go smoothly.
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