Big Run Up The Chesapeake, Home Tomorrow!!

We left Norfolk/Portsmouth at about 7:30 for the 2 hour run down the Elizabeth River into the Chesapeake Bay. This is very interesting since about half the US Navy is tied up along this stretch, along with commercial shipping and other maritime activity. The photo shows "Warship 51", which is how they refer to themselves on the radio, being towed out of her mooring prior to departure for sea. We did not know quite what to do in terms of just passing, or getting on the radio and requesting a pass. Figuring that if you asked, you would probably be put through some kind of drill or asked to shut down until they got under way, we just blasted past. This is an old oil business trick- always ask for forgiveness rather than ask for permission.

Of course the minute we passed, we regretted the decision, since they ignored us as if we were a mere fly on the wall, or in this case, the edge of the ship channel. This immediately sent the discussion into how the radio banter could have gone. Warship 51, Warship 51, this is sailing vessel Potemkin of fun-loving People's Republic of Kazakhstan asking you to move over, ...over....maybe then enjoying a full military investigation? Naw, just quietly pass by. Experience dictates that structured organizations such as the military and most of my prior employers have no sense of humor in these matters, which is disappointing. Would have been a great joke, provided they held their fire.

We had a good run up the Chesapeake motor sailing with a nice breeze behind us. When we reached our target of Deltaville, it was too early to stop, so we continued on to Reedville and are currently in a beautiful anchorage watching a spectacular sunset and enjoying a glass of Prosecco. Life is good. The extra mileage today means a short run tomorrow into Solomons, ETA early afternoon.

Awesome trip, awesome experience, and we will reflect further in some final blogs once we have completed our journey and have had time to reflect.

Rob

Hello Norfolk, Chesapeake Bay Tomorrow!!

We had a very quiet and peaceful night at anchor in Broad Creek and rose at first light to be greeted by fog (and mosquitoes). The photo is of the eerie sunrise over still water through fog. It was actually much thicker than the photo depicts, and caused a bit of concern navigating out of the creek and back into the ICW. Only touched bottom once, no biggie.

The trip to Norfolk involved straight runs up the river, then meandering following the upper creeks, finally giving way to a canal across to the Elizabeth River. Oh yes, and smashing mosquitoes that had managed to get into our enclosure, and now could not find their way out. Once in the canal, there were 5 opening bridges and one lock to contend with. Luckily, by leaving early, we were able to get to the final bridge about 10 minutes before it closed for 2 hours for rush hour. Great planning. Sure, I'd actually planned to be there an hour before we did, so luck (or the lack thereof) had a lot to do with it. This put us into Norfolk at 4:30 in the afternoon.

We elected to select a marina in Portsmouth, which is across the river from Norfolk, on the grounds that we had never been there before, so it was worth a look. The marina was right next to the Portsmouth historic district, which is very nicely restored, and we were told that it was our lucky day, since it was restaurant week, and there should be specials galore. So, map in hand, we walked into town. Like I said, nice place, but not much open after 5 except the bars and restaurants, which were all fairly basic. However, we had a very nice dinner, and walked back, concluding from the number of street people and number of police cruisers, that Portsmouth was a fairly rough town that was trying to clean up its act. Still, there were some nautical antique shops that had awesome window displays of maritime memorabilia- everything from brass portholes to full sized binnacles and ships running lights. If you need this stuff, check it out here.

Off tomorrow for Deltaville and some Chesapeake Bay sailing. Finally!!

Rob

Across the Albermarle We Go

Great run out of Belhaven today. The original plan was to find an anchorage at the mouth of the Alligator River, then a long day to Norfolk the following day.
We departed about 8am with a brisk northery wind and sailed where we could until the canal turned north. In the sheltered canal, and with no tidal currents we made great time. Once we popped out into the Alligator River, it was much too early to anchor, so we elected to continue on and cross the Albermarle Sound and anchor in the North River on the other side. This allows us to make a much shorter run into Norfolk tomorrow and signals the last long day of the voyage home: we did 75 miles today. This means 60 miles to Norfolk tomorrow, then about 50 to Deltaville and another 50 or so to home. Yeeha.
We are currently anchored in Broad Creek off the southern end of the North River. It is a very protected anchorage in a narrow creek so the wind will not bother us at all, and there are no currents to worry about. The sun set in beautiful fashion, and then there was that golden moment. For those not familiar with the term "golden moment", it is a term that comes from Australia. The golden moment is that small passage of time between when the flies stop buzzing and the mosquitos descend.
The plan was to fire up the barbee on the stern rail and grill some sausages. When I got out there, the greeting committee from Phylum Insecta Macrobita was waiting. Luckily we had put up the screens on our enclosure, so after sounding the retreat and once inside, it was ok. Sausages pan fried on the stove worked.
Forecasts are for some rain for the next few days, but winds moderate from the south at 10-15, so we should be able to hoist sails out of Norfolk and enjoy our Chesapeake Bay and give the motor a rest.

Rob

Flying Through North Carolina: Wrightsviulle Beach to Morehead City and then on to Belhaven

As we get into this trip, the miles per day has steadily crept up as we get used to the routine of getting up at dawn, casting off, and going like bats out of hell until dusk. The run north from Wrightsville Beach started with a tricky de-docking which we worried about since we were on the the inside of a dock and had to back into a stiff current running against us. The actuality was a relatively easy departure, which was a relief.

The trip north is a misnomer in this case since the Carolina coast here runs almost east-west, and the ICW is relatively straight in the lagoon behind the barrier islands. Tides ebb and flow through the various inlets, so you are alternately battling against the tide, then you go over the top, and it is with you again. Once again, there were some interesting sights. The photo shows a dude in his dinghy high and dry as the tide went out and left him stranded. Perhaps the dry part is redundant? Or perhaps I do not understand people who fish. Yes, I think he still has his rod and bait, but the fish need water to live in, my boy. To catch fish, just follow the water, you will find them eventually. Or perhaps just sitting in the boat is the real objective? Somewhere in a parallel universe, paint is drying. Does that mean someone is watching? Or does anyone really care?

As the day progressed, the wind built to over 20 knots, and was either directly behind us or off our quarter. We set the jib which added over a knot to our speed. It was really exhilarating in the last 10 or so miles down Bogue Sound into Morehead City to have the wind and tide with us, and see the GPS record speed over ground at a steady 8.5 knots. We were flying, and a big power boat that we have been travelling with since Florida radioed to ask what we were on. Warp drive Scotty!!

Due to the strong currents, we selected Morehead City Yacht Basin as a place to stay, which advertised little or no current. Since this would be our last night in high current areas (there are no tides in the Pamlico, only wind driven water level changes), we did not want to tempt fate. I should have figured it out when we came in, that yes, Wanda, the current is running and running with some vigor. Not one of our better docking exercises, but as they say, nobody perished, and no new scratches on our boat, and more importantly, on nobody else's.

After a nice dinner out, we retired early for another early start, only to be awakened in the wee hours by howling winds, and what felt like tsunamis moving the floating docks around. Bump, grind, splish, splash, repeat. Enjoy not included in that. Bleary-eyed, we arose at dawn and surveyed a stiff current running and a supporting stiff wind, both of which were on our beam. We were moored in a slip with 45 to 50 ft yachts on either side ($$$, do not hit), and the objective was to not hit them. After much consultation, we devised a plan to short tie the boat, I would hit max reverse and bowthruster to crab the boat around into the wind, and hopefully we would be clear before the tide and wind smashed us into the next boat. Once again, the good Lord looks after drunks and fools. We powered out of there looking like we knew what we were doing. Over caffination is a virtue in such situations. High fives all around, and off we go for the Pamlico Sound.

Now we were making great progress north. The ICW winds through creeks and canals, then emerges into the Neuse River and then into the Sound, before ducking back into creeks again on its way to Belhaven. The wind was on the nose down the Neuse, making for a nasty chop and big-time pitching action. Once we rounded, the wind moderated, and the seas were smoother. By the time we got to Belhaven, it was light air and a beautiful sunset. We walked the town and admired the waterfront homes. Being Sunday, everything was closed, and it was like stepping back in time. As with other towns that we explored on our journey back, many of the family owned shops were closed, shut down or abandoned due to the recession. The one high light was the marina we are staying in which is run by a couple, and is extremely nice, even if we are the only transient this evening. The marina is obviously dated, but everything is immaculately kept, spotlessly clean, and nicely decorated. A credit to the family business concept.

We are off tomorrow to anchor out in the Alligator River, then the final run home through Norfolk, and Deltaville. Four more days to be back in Solomons. Phew. Quite a journey. The boat has held up well, and we have our fingers crossed that it stays that way. We have a weather window open until Thursday, since on Friday the forecast is for everything to hit the fan. Zoom, zoom, zoom.

Rob

North Carolina

The run out of Georgetown for Myrtle Beach was relatively easy: the weather has been fantastic with crisp mornings and warm afternoons. The wind has been cool and out of the north so the humidity is down making for pleasant days and having to pile on the blankets at night. Now that the meandering part of the trip is over, we had hoped to hoist sails and at least motor sail to boost our speed against adverse tides and currents. Alas, the direction has been right on the nose so we motor on.

We arrived in Myrtle Beach around 6:30 and tied up at their fuel dock [see photo of Great Escape at dawn just before we left for Wrightsville Beach]. Great marina and we saw several of our fellow north-bounds already in slips and well into happy hour. We left at 7:30 am for Wrightsville Beach and a 62 mile run. All went well until we got to Cape Fear and turned north into the Cape Fear River. The current was running about 3 knots against us, and the wind was blowing 20 kts from behind which made for some serious sea conditions. Great Escape was surfing down the waves but making only about 4 kts forward progress speed over ground. The autopilot got completely confused by all of this, meaning manual steering required, and then you add ships coming up and down the channel. After about 2 and a half hours of slogging through this, we entered Snow's Cut, and were back in the usual sheltered ICW conditions.

The tides at the moment are fairly extreme, and we hear frequent calls to the Tow Boat from yachts aground. The second photo shows a low tide situation where the end of some dude's dock is high and dry, and so are his boats.

We docked at a restaurant [since the bona fide marinas were full] and are enjoying listening to the boozers carry on. Actually, we had a very nice dinner there, and met up with a friend from Marathon which was special.

Tomorrow we leave at first light for Moorhead City, a 75 mile run, that will put us at less than 350 miles from home. We are really looking forward to completing the voyage and getting on to all the stuff that has been put off for the three months that we have been away. Sticking to the theme that the voyage is the destination, viva la voyage!!!

Rob

South Carolina: The Low Country

Our progress north continues at a fairly fast clip. Since last post we made Beaufort where we stayed 2 nights, then on to Charleston, and tonight, Georgetown, with daily runs of 80, 69 and 67 miles. To accomplish these distances against tides and currents and bridges, it is a dawn to dusk exercise. Much of the travel consists of winding around the maze of channels through the marshes, often making more distance east-west than north: the low country is indeed that.

After anchoring out two nights in a row, we made Beaufort (pronounced Beu-firt, not Bow-fort), and elected to take a day of getting the boat clean, doing laundry, re-provisioning and sightseeing the historic district. The Port Royal Marina had a courtesy car that allowed us to go shopping and see the lay of the land. We then returned in the afternoon and walked the town, had a great dinner at a waterside restaurant, and checked out some of the shops, galleries and historical monuments. Nice diversion from the passage routine. Reminds one to stop and smell the roses (or in this case the azaleas), and take in the antebellum homes and and laid back culture of the area.

On our arrival, the tide was at it's highest, so docking on the inside floating pier was no problem. However, the next morning we had to cast off at first light to make a bridge opening at 7am (the bridge closed for rush hour from 7-9 am). At cast off, we had a 3 knot current running, and had to back out into this, spin the boat 180 degrees while not hitting anybody in a relatively narrow channel. Hmmm. Amazingly, the plan went like clockwork, and we tore out with motor at max rpm, probably waking up a few people. The yee-ha's may have also helped.

The trip to Charleston was interesting, and involved crossing several large ocean inlets, where the currents would reverse and the swells and chop made for a lumpy ride. All along the way, we could hear the radio banter as the powerboats rocked the living daylights out of the sail boats as they passed. We have a number of sail boats that we travel with, and have known since Florida. We exchange information on shallow spots and incoming kamikaze power boats, and of course rendezvous again at evening destinations. It is fun to wave to each other as we pass or are passed. The only bummer going into Charleston was missing a bridge opening and having to wait 2 hours until rush hour was over to pass through.

We stayed at the Charleston City marina, also known as the Mega Dock. It consists of a very long floating dock (must be about a 3/4ths of a mile long), and you tie up on both sides of it. The Mega Dock lives up to its name, with some amazing mega yachts tied up there. The photos show a 125 ft Perini Navi yacht coming in at dusk and then docked the next morning.

When we arrived near dusk, there was a pretty strong current running on the incoming tide. We radioed asking where they wanted us, and they said go inside (running the gauntlet of already docked boats), turn in the turning basin, and then come back and slip in between two rather expensive power boats. Of course I said, no problem, while thinking, you've got to be out of your cotton picking mind. So, we enter the channel behind the dock with the current, rocketing past the guys on the dock sent there to help us tie up, manage to find the turning basin, do a really tight 180 with the assistance of the bow thruster to avoid smashing into several boats, the power back against the current. As our spot appears, it starts looking smaller and smaller, so, coming in hot, we slide in, hit full reverse, Fisul hands the line to the dock guys, and the people on the boat in front (who were bracing for impact), give us a round of applause. Like I've always said, being lucky is much better than being good. The footnote to all this was a large poster near the marina office offering the services of a marine attorney.

We left Charleston at 7:45 to make the first post-rush hour opening of the Ben Sawyer Bridge at 9. The trip from here on has a lot more north to it, with straighter runs rather than all the meandering around. There is minimal civilization in this area, and the only signs of human activity are the ubiquitous dredging crews and the occasional fisherman. And the max-wake power boaters passing.

We are now in Georgetown, and anticipating a short run to Myrtle Beach tomorrow, where we will try and catch up with some people we met in Marathon. Until then, we will spend a few hours in the morning exploring Georgetown and having a nice hot breakfast- yum!! One downside of going north: the weather is getting cooler, to the extent that the shorts and t-shirts have now been replaced by long pants and a fleece. Boo hiss.

Rob

Georgia: Mud, 7 foot tides, An Alligator, and Banjo Music

The Georgia ICW twists and winds through river/creeks/cuts, and boasts tides up to 7 feet. And lots and lots of very muddy water. Also, there is very little civilization in between the main population centers, so if you hear banjo music, you paddle like hell.

This is our second night anchored out, and the first where our air card can pick up any signal at all to give us Internet access. We have been pushing fairly hard to put this section of the trip behind us, making almost 80 miles a day. The high tidal range means that you are either battling up hill against a 2 to 3 knot current, or flying down with that behind you. The flip occurs between the main river inlets into the Atlantic. We got caught in the Little Mud River at low tide today, and bumped along in 4 and 5 ft of water. Other boats with fixed keels simply went aground and stayed that way until the tide changed. Did see our first alligator however. Having accomplished that feat, we prefer dolphins.

Photos are of a Sunset where we are anchored tonight near St Catherine's Island, and a picture of some body's dream boat, snapped while bridge waiting in St Augustine.

Tomorrow we make a big push to Beaufort, South Carolina, where, we can assure you, there is also banjo music to worry about.

Rob