Living large

 Hi everyone,

White Seal was anchored out in remote parts of the Lowcountry the last 2 nights but now she is tied up at a marina! Highly unusual for Charlie to cough up money for dockspace but Charleston is an exception. The anchorage here is marginal, though it is packed with boats. It features very strong currents, a bottom littered with anchor snagging debris, and the opportunity for a suicidal row across the harbor to get ashore. No thanks. My friend Emily has done it but she admits it was crazy.

It was lovely coming in here. As soon as I exited the "ditch" I hoisted the main and sailed slowly up the harbor, fighting the tide. The autopilot steered while I secured dockspace by phone. It was a close call. The municipal marina was completely booked. 20,000 feet of dock space and they didn't have 36 feet for yours truly. And the place did look packed. In fact, there were 3 megayachts who couldn't get space and were forced to anchor out with the low budget crowd. Poor them. I lucked out and got a slip that was just my size at the Ashley Marina next door. It was a bit nerve wracking docking the boat with a really strong ebb pushing me towards the bridge, literally 10 feet away as I eased in at an angle. Fortunately there was an excellent dock attendant waiting. Probably could have done it alone but failure would have ended the voyage.

My friend Ron Rost comes tomorrow for about a week. We will stay here tomorrow night, and may stay a third if he wants a good look at Charleston. From what I have seen on past trips, the magic of the city is to be found south of Broad Street. No magic in the rest of the city. Absolutely choked with traffic and pedestrians are reduced to the status of a lower life form. Assuming they survive at all. Being next to the bridge means constant noise and there is the additional pleasant sound of helicopters landing at the hosputal next door. Probably delivering run over pedestrians to the ER. Sorry, bad humor. Quite a difference from the last few quiet nights.

Another interesting note. Listening to the weather they had issued a flood warning. What the heck, I thought. Hasn't rained in weeks. Turned out it was for the exceptionally high tides, and was causing flooding in many areas with low lying streets and roads. I had seen this in Belhaven, wondering where all the water was coming from. Waterfront property owners, beware!

Best, Charlie

Secret anchorage

Hi everyone,

Well, its not so secret anymore since it has been identified by the Skipper Bob guidebook. I first anchored here in the spring of 1985 while on my way north. It offers 360 degree protection and features nice soft mud and thick marsh grass along the shore. About ten feet deep right up to the shore. Never seen another cruising boat although an occasional small fishing boat passes by. When I was here with Meg in 1990 I climbed the mast after dark and could see one faint light far off in the distance. That has changed, as the relatively high ground on the other side of the Waccamaw has gotten developed. Quite a few houses have been built and a good sized marina has been built not far away. I expect this anchorage will never get developed since it is essentially part of a giant swamp. Although I suppose it could all be filled in someday if the US population keeps growing. Anyway, it's a really beautiful spot and I kind of wish there was a good storm so I could take full advantage of it.

I was able to mostly sail today which was very cathartic after spending days motoring thru heavily developed areas. A short day, but lovely!

Best to all, Charlie

Extra

 Hi all,

I got off on a tangent earlier on the subject of boaters behaving badly and had more to add.

First of all, I made it thru the infamous Rock Pile today without incident. Boaters like Mindy and Will know exactly what I am talking about. It's just a 4 mile section near Myrtle Beach, but it is scary. Most of the waterway is sand and mud, but this section was dynamited out of rock. Very narrow with jagged fingers ot rock hidden along the edges and just below the surface. Twice, when I have passed thru with Meg, there have been large sailboats stranded on these rocks, waiting for the tide to come back in. You really don't want to meet anything bigger than a rowboat coming the other way. Fortunately,  today I didn't. I did put out a securite call on the VHF beforehand.

Talking about idiots on the water I have to fess up to something I did on my first trip 50 years ago. I think I mentioned this way back in the blog, but not this spevific incident. You may recall I was captaining my fathers charter schooner, the Sea Song, from Norfolk to Charleston. This was in the fall of 72, I was 18 years old, and far over my head. For crew, I had my 10 year old sister Barbie, my mother, and 2 buddies of mine who were in their early 20's. They were all great, BTW. The captain knew he was over his head but he was just folliwing orders. The schooner was 43 feet on deck and 52 feet overall, displacing 42000 pounds. She was an impressive vessel. I'm surprised I made it as far as I did without a mishap. But yesterday morning, as I entered the Cape Fear River, I felt a bit like a criminal revisiting the scene of the crime.

I don't remember exactly how I screwed up, but I did, driving all 21 tons of boat aground. And the tide was going out. I would like to remember that I was calm, cool, and collected, but I wasn't. Fortunately, God is kind to fools, and eventually the tide came back and refloated her, with no obvious damage. But I wonder if it had anything to do with the sprung plank we experienced out on the ocean a few days later. 

I always remember that incident when transiting that area. It was a long time ago. Hard to believe I grew up in that business.

Very best regards, Charlie

Ps Anchored on the Waccamaw River. A delight after the pomposity of Myrtle Beach

Waccamaw river

 Hi all, 

I was too beat yesterday to post. Had spent the previous night in Carolina Beach. I got up early to take advantage of the ebb on the Cape Fear River. Often I am able to sail the river but the wind was light. I have been a motorboat since Oriental, something I am not happy about. There has been wind but this part of the ICW is just too narrow and with a lot of traffic.

After dipping into the architectural aesthetic of the ICW, I feel I need to delve into the boat handling skills I have observed. Yesterday offered a couple of prime examples, one of which nearly turned tragic.

It began as I approached Lockwood's Folly inlet. With a name like that, you expect trouble, and I was rather beset with apprehension. It was dead low tide and I was poking along at just above idle speed, or about 3 miles an hour  trying to keep the boat in 5'9" of water. She draws one inch less than that. The alarm on the depth sounder was set at 7 feet, and it makes a high pitched whiny noise when that depth is encountered. It is not a pleasant sound. Fortunately, were I to go aground I would soon be lifted off by the rising tide.

The scene was complex as I rounded a bend. There were about a half dozen small fishing boats scattered about, 2 of which were the Jon boat type, perhaps 14 feet long with a very small outboard motor. One of the slightly bigger boats was crossing the narrow channel and he passed just behind me. So, lots of activity concentrated at a known fishing hotspot.

Into this congestion came 2 center console powerboats, each of about 26 or 27 feet, and sporting 2 big outboard motors. One thing I've observed about American boaters is that they like horsepower, they aren't timid about using it, and God forbid that they slow down. One of the boats is going north and the other is going south. White Seal is in the very middle of the channel going 3 mph.

It becomes evident that both boats intend to take the inside of the corner. They were both doing about 20 to 25 mph, which doesn't sound like much to car people, but believe me, it is plenty fast. I realized that they didn't see each other, but at literally the last second they each swerved, fortunately in each case to starboard. A poor sap minding his fish pole in one of the Jon boats was nearly swamped by a huge wake and received a saltwater shower. My boat got hit by spray, but thankfully not in the cockpit so my charts were ok. The weather was perfect and I wasn't expecting rain so I didn't have them covered. Other than being terrorized the other small boats fared OK. But here's the thing, the 2 trangressors didn't even slow down that I could see. There was a high speed exchange of the usual single finger salute and one party uttered some extremely coarse language not fit to repeat but they didn't stop. It all took about 15 seconds and White Seal continued poking along at 3mph till she got thru the critical area.

Perhaps an hour later I was approaching the Shallotte Inlet, which is very similar. I was in the same equivalent situation, tide very low, lots of small fishing boats including several anchored directly in the MIDDLE of the shallow, narrow channel. Once again I was crawling along when I could hear a very fast moving boat coming from behind. Due to some guy hogging the middle of the channel with his anchor and multiple fish lines out I moved over to the side of the channel, right next to a red buoy. It was very evident that there was a barely submerged sand bar coming out to the buoy. The powerboater had decided to take that route as there were no boats in that location. He and his buddy hit it hard and came to a very sudden stop. I hollered over and asked if they were OK. No response, but no injuries were apparent. Their focus was on getting the engine restarted, which amazingly enough, they did. It even went into gear and moved. It didn't sound too good but they went slowly past and pulled over at a conveniently located marine repair yard.

It's kind of crazy out there in boater world. Lots of people who aren't very good at it! I wish they would learn how to slow down!

Best, Charlie

On the waterfront

 Here I go as an architectural critic, for which I am supremely unqualified.

Over the past half century there has been a movement of financially successful folks to waterfront properties along the coast. It's an exclusive club, and I ain't a member. But that's OK, I do have a unique view as I poke along the intracoastal waterway, sandwiched between the barrier islands and the inner shoreline. And what I see isn't pretty. In fact, it is a shockingly ugly sight. Trashy, I believe, would be the best descriptor.

Coming around a bend yesterday, I beheld about 2 solid miles of development on the one side of the canal. It looked like a scene from a waterway in Bangladesh. But I bet Bangladesh has more character. This waterway scene was just soul suckingly gross. For 2 miles a thicket of pressure treated pilings and lumber predominated with complete disorder the overarching rule. Basically, every home had a dock that protruded out about 200 feet into the canal. There were literally many thousands of pilings, and at the end of every dock there was some sort of pavilion, as well as a lift for a bright and shiny boat. As you looked down the line it looked like a crazy assemblage of pick up stix. The boats were typically of the center console variety and I would guess that the average value was around 100 grand. It did not appear that any were in use on this weekday morning.

Rising above the chaos of the pilings you could see the 3rd or 4th story of the associated house, a structure built at considerable expense. In the narrow space between each dock you could see that the shoreline had been bulkheaded, to stamp out any vestige of nature. The lots were very narrow so that the houses were very close together. The ends of the docks had only 10 to 15 feet between them. The ugliness was astounding. And these people are well to do. I bet these are million dollar properties.

Then, I saw an anomaly. Out of probably 300 to 400 homes, there was ONE with no dock. No bulkhead. No boat. Just about 50 feet of natural shoreline. That is the person I would like to meet.

I feel the built environment is of critical importance to the human psyche. People react in a visceral way to that environment and when it is bad it can be very bad. But this architectural eyesore will have a limited lifespan. Sooner or later it will be removed by a hurricane and hopefully not be rebuilt in its present form. I mean really, building on a coastal barrier island? Are you kidding me?

From Carolina Beach, all the best, Charlie

PS Carolina Beach is not the locale I have just described, although it shares in the shame

Relax

 Everything was fine! The most difficulty involved my leaving a warm bunk at 0330. It was in the 30's but it was clear and with a bit of moonlight. I tugged a bit on the anchor line, pulled in about 10 feet, and White Seal was floating happily, with no harm done. I returned immediately to my bunk. This little mishap is typical of the little problems that rise up along the way.

I am anchored for the night in Wrightsville Beach. It was a cold, but uneventful day. At some point, I intend to expound upon the architectural proclivities of the moderately well to do, who find themselves residing in settlements abutting the intracoastal waterway. It is a subject that fascinates me, as I slowly pass by and observe. But right now, I am all wore out!

All the best, Charlie

Hard aground

 Hi folks,

Today was a long day. I knocked off quite a few miles and was quite pleased with myself for negotiating the shoal prone Bogue Sound without touching the bottom. Alas, I pulled into the Mile Hammock anchorage in Camp Lejuene and found it to be quite full. Nosing around the perimeter I managed to run gently aground. And the tide was falling. I quickly ran a kedge anchor out in the dinghy, and led the rode back to my primary winch in the cockpit. I did manage to get the boat turned around, but she wouldn't move forward. Finally, I said the heck with it and made dinner. The next high tide is at 0400, so I'll get up around 3:30 and pull her forward about 10 feet. This place is totally protected, with no current and no wakes so it is not a big deal. Other than to my ego..... She will be heeled over at low tide, but it will be pitch dark then so minimal embarrassment!

And its gonna be cold! A freeze warning has been issued for the area. Time to get out the long johns, hat, mittens, etc.

All the best. Charlie

Short day

 Hi folks, 

Spent 2 nights at the town docks of Oriental. Enjoyed meeting Keith Smith who is a good friend of Emily Greenberg. He treated me to a cruise up the local creeks on his delightful, shallow draft powerboat. Simply sublime.

I just went a very short distance today, across the Neuse River to Adams Creek. Not real crazy about anchoring in Beaufort and there was a stiff breeze today with a front passing thru tonite. If any of you happen to see my wife Meg, ask her about the storm we survived a few years back while at anchor in Beaufort. I'll get underway in the morning and skip Beaufort entirely. I am in a decent spot for the frontal passage later. Three boats anchored here and widely separated.

Cheers, Charlie

Brevity

My new watchword. When my scribblings disappear into the ether I won't cry as much.

Presently at the free town dock in Oriental. Tied up next to a massive shrimper. Very little wind. Regatta day here on the Neuse River and it looks dreadful out there. Sails hanging limp. Water like glass. 

Will report further if this posts successfully.

Best, Charlie

Digital failure

 Spent a ton of time on update only to have it disappear. I am at the River Rats Yacht Club off the Pungo River.

Best, Charlie

Elizabeth City

 I have been hanging out with Emily here in Elizabeth City for 5 nights. Two nights at the Mid Atlantic Christian University, and now 3 nights at the city docks, all free. Folks at the University are just delightful, and encourage cruisers to tie up for up to 48 hours. Cathy, from the administration, loaned us her car to procure groceries. And they told Emily she could stay longer given her limited engine options. The protection there from the weather is very good. Emily is going to wait for a weather window to sail around by Manteo on Roanoke Island, whereas I will utilize the engine to transit the ICW with its several manmade cuts. She tried to talk me into taking her route, but I am reluctanr to get way out on the Outer Banks while hurricane season is still in its prime. Plus, I cant fit under the bridge to Roanoke and would have to go further out. Not now. Maybe in the spring. Anyways, I will leave in the morning and head for the Alligator River. Will be out of touch for 2 days as there is a whole lot of nothing with no cell service for probably 80 or 90 miles. There are 3 other boats headed the same way in the morning. But I will miss Emily. She has been a ton of fun to travel with. We are hoping to meet up in Oriental. She really wants me to meet Keith, the guy she will be writing for. She will be staying in Oriental for a while. It will be interesting to see who gets there first.

All the best, Charlie

The Horror at South Mills Lock

 Hi everyone,

Apologies for the scary title! We are fine! Furthermore, the sun is out for the first time in a week. Emily and I are tied up at the Mid Atlantic Christian University in Elizabeth City. They have a free dock and are super welcoming.

Yesterday morning we bade adieu to the visitors center and continued on our southerly trek. I was delighted to see the absence of duckweed, which should have triggered alarm bells. It was only 4 miles to an opening bridge, which works in conjunction with the lock. We raised the operator on the radio and he warned us of a massive buildup of duckweed at the lock. He said it would take some real work to get thru. Well, I certainly had no intention of turning around. The bridge was easy, and we began motoring the quarter mile to the lock. As we got closer , we could see what the problem was. There was a literal wall, a sort of miasma, that had backed up in the lock entrance. It was a stinking, fetid mass, of duckweed, pine needles, branches, and trash. We hit it at a good clip and came to a complete stop, about 75 feet from the lock entrance. Cooling water for the engine stopped completely, so I shut it down. The green mass was about 2 feet thick. The strong north winds of the previous week had blown everything to this choke point.

Getting in the dinghy, I managed , with considerable difficulty, to get ashore with a long anchor line. Pulling hard, I managed to pull the 2 boats about 10 feet thru the mire. The lockkeeper used the motorised gate to pull Emily's boat another 10 feet. I then ran the line to a bollard in the lock chamber and was able to eventually pull her in. I then made my way back to my boat, and led the anchor line to my cockpit winch. Eventually, I was able to muscle my boat into the lock. The water was then lowered and the other gates opened. But we were still encumbered by the slime. And everything was covered with this disgusting, stinky duckweed. We somehow managed to extricate oursselves from the lock, and make our way to the clear water below. The rest of the way was uneventful, and really quite scenic. The locking process took 2 hours of hard work, and then it was another 2 hours to clean up the unbelievable mess on the decks when we arrived at Elizabeth City. You just never know what might happen when traveling by boat. In 60 years of boating, that was a first!

Cheers, Charlie

New storm

 Hi everyone,

Here we go again! Yep, a gale warning is in effect for later tonight and tomorrow. In retrospect we could have been on the move today but decided to stay here at the welcome center dock. No big deal. Nice place, fun people, and protected. Emily and I made friends with Phil Reed, who travels on small boats up and down the coast. He is currently on a Sanibel 18. Great guy. Emily interviewed him for a story. He will hunker down and stay here tomorrow also.

Cheers, Charlie

Silence!

 Hi all!

Happy to report that the storm is over! Calm and peaceful here in the swamp. Emily and I are going to stay here a couple more nights. She is working on writing assignments and we also hope to check out the visitors center and museum more thoroughly.

We did get a huge amount of rain. I had a straight sided bucket sitting in the cockpit that I emptied early on, after about 3 inches had fallen. This morning it had an additional 8 and a half inches in it. The wind was not as bad as tropical storm Michael that I went through 4 years ago with Tom Hickley. It might have gusted around 50. Michael hit 70 and was pretty bad. I can't imagine what the folks in Florida endured.

Happy to be here, safe and sound!

Best regards, Charlie