Big Ol' Swamp Fly
Back into civilization again. After Beaufort we spent the next several days passing through swamps and three large sounds, stopping in two small towns along the way. In Beaufort, Mike of C-Gull Seeker generously offered to come aboard and help us with the fridge. He tested connections and it seemed to be an electrical problem inside a virtually inaccessible box. Long story short, the next day, just for the heck of it, we turned it on and it worked! Hooray! Unfortunately, it now does not work again. Bummer! I think anyone who is bipolar should never live on a sailboat. It would push the poor soul over the edge.
We anchored out at the small town of Oriental where, to our surprise, some of the first buildings we passed were a community theater and a natural food restaurant. We then found a marine surplus store and picked up a few items. It was stinkin' hot and the walk to the Town and Country Market, far. As we packed the groceries into our backpacks, a saintly woman asked us if we needed a ride back to the dock saying, "We love our cruisers." Sandy, a gardener as evidenced by the two sage seedlings at my feet in the passenger side, also said, "Folks are sayin' this is a hot spell. It's not. Summer just came early." Oriental has the friendliest people and a local coffee shop, The Bean, with the best smoothies, especially on such a hot, hot day. The second day we paid a visit to a mechanic at a nearby marina to get some help with the dripping shaft, the bothersome bilge pump and other befuddling malfunctions. Three different guys came, all kind souls who gave us mini tutorials so that hopefully next time we'll be able to handle things ourselves. Fingers crossed. Whilst there, the marina loaned me a Ford pick-up to do some errands. Dave stayed onboard while I drove (first time in over a month!) through the absolutely beautiful North Carolina countryside - farms, lush stands of deciduous trees, crooked creeks, and the color of emerald green painting all. I stopped by Paul's Produce, a family produce stand built off the front of the house, and stocked up on fruit and veggies. The big hits were the green beans - hearty, stick-to-your-ribs green beans - and the homemade chocolate chip cookies (really missing home-made cookies!).
In contrast to vibrant Oriental was Belhaven, a town in decay. Sad but with lovely homes along the waterfront and the local restaurant, The Farm Boys, has live outdoor music - a young man with guitar singing Neil Young in a sweet voice. We saw a grand old building and walked over where we found the police station on the lower floor, with a friendly police woman taking a smoke break in the doorway. She said the words slowly, "This is a small, ooold town." Turns out she's from New Jersey, rural New Jersey. She said she didn't like having neighbors when she moved to Belhaven, but she got used to it and the town grew on her. We were there on a late Saturday afternoon and it was pretty quiet. On Sunday morning I went to town to do the laundry and I was the only one on the street. It was eery. The only other shop open was the old-timey hardware store where I bought a battery. Seems like the O'Neil family is big here because every other business is run by the O'Neils: O'Neils' Pharmacy, O'Neils Bakery, O'Neils Realty. Even the mayor is an O'Neil. Sadly most of the store fronts were empty.
In the afternoon we were below when we heard an, "Ahoy." "Erik, with a 'k'" paddled up in his kayak. He lives on his 32-foot Columbia sailboat and has sailed up and down the coast so had some good tales to tell. I noticed a bit of an eye tick when he spoke but soon realized, after the wind blew in my direction, that he was probably drunk. Still, we had a good conversation - some of which was repeated more than once. As he left he said that he had paddled over to get off of his boat and meet some interesting people on the sailboat and that he'd accomplished both. Even coming from a drunk person, we were pleased.
Smokey Alligator River Canal
As we motored to the next anchorage, we passed through the Alligator River Canal, a straaaaaight, long ditch through the swampland - beautiful in its own stark way. Unfortunately, due to a forest fire, the air was extremely smokey. We'd planned to stop at one anchorage but the smoke was oppressive, so we moved on. We were about to go into the Abermarle Sound - 15 miles across - when we noticed dark clouds ahead. We flipped to the NOAA weather channel, which earlier had predicted a sunny day, to hear, "Thunderstorms in the Abermarle Sound. Small craft should seek shelter immediately." Even the mechanical voice sounded alarmed. Dave convinced me that it's better to be in a sound in strong winds than near the land in an unprotected anchorage where the boat could be bounced against the shore, tree limbs and snags. Also we saw that the dark clouds were far west of where we were headed. Two boats passed us going in our direction, so we went for it. Just a few raindrops and a bit of wind and chop and, oh, yes, the two lightning bolts to the west. No harm done. We found another lovely anchorage on Broad Creek where, after 75 miles in 11 hours, the frogs' song lulled us to sleep.
Passing two boats crossing the Abermarle Sound after the storm
The next morning, showers!! Knowing that we'd be stopping to fill up on diesel and water, we were free to take lavish...well, sort of...showers. After a week of sponge baths, it's like a new beginning (angels choir to sunrise image). Then off to Coinjock Marina where we filled up and pumped out, bought charts and a guidebook for the Chesapeake Bay AND ice cream! You may notice that simple pleasures - showers, ice cream, a working refrigerator, smoothies - are treasured.
Alligator River Canal
We checked out the anchorage in the guidebook, but the depths were borderline too shallow for us. We draw 5 feet and we were sounding 5.5. There is no tidal current here, but the wind can raise and lower the water level somewhat. We passed under the 65-foot bridge and anchored in front of a defunct marina with a sandy beach. Seemed perfect. A father took a swim with his daughter. Two guys in a small boat said hello as they passed. As we ate a leisurely dinner in the cockpit, I looked up to say something and behind Dave was passing a gigantic, double barge down the river about 50 feet from us. YIKES! After much discussion, it seemed that, even though we were on the edge of the channel, it was no problem. BUT at 10:00 PM, I went up to the cockpit and saw a searchlight coming up the river from the other direction. What I realized is that due to the bend in the river at the bridge, the barge coming up the river would likely need to be in the space where we were anchored. I called Dave up, we turned on all of the lights and monitored the radio. The barge slowed way down as it approached the bridge and shined his spotlight on us. It passed under the bridge and as it slid abeam of us, it's captain radioed, "Sailboat anchored near the Pungo River Ferry Bridge, this is the barge." In an incredibly friendly voice, he said that we might want to move to another place because normally where we were is right where the barges end up when coming from that direction. And there was another barge coming in about a half an hour that would be a double barge. We told him that we realized we'd made a mistake and would move. This meant we had to go back under the bridge and find the shallow anchorage in the dark. So that is what we did. I told Dave that I'd rather go aground than be hit by a barge. He agreed. I slept like a log that night.
We checked out the anchorage in the guidebook, but the depths were borderline too shallow for us. We draw 5 feet and we were sounding 5.5. There is no tidal current here, but the wind can raise and lower the water level somewhat. We passed under the 65-foot bridge and anchored in front of a defunct marina with a sandy beach. Seemed perfect. A father took a swim with his daughter. Two guys in a small boat said hello as they passed. As we ate a leisurely dinner in the cockpit, I looked up to say something and behind Dave was passing a gigantic, double barge down the river about 50 feet from us. YIKES! After much discussion, it seemed that, even though we were on the edge of the channel, it was no problem. BUT at 10:00 PM, I went up to the cockpit and saw a searchlight coming up the river from the other direction. What I realized is that due to the bend in the river at the bridge, the barge coming up the river would likely need to be in the space where we were anchored. I called Dave up, we turned on all of the lights and monitored the radio. The barge slowed way down as it approached the bridge and shined his spotlight on us. It passed under the bridge and as it slid abeam of us, it's captain radioed, "Sailboat anchored near the Pungo River Ferry Bridge, this is the barge." In an incredibly friendly voice, he said that we might want to move to another place because normally where we were is right where the barges end up when coming from that direction. And there was another barge coming in about a half an hour that would be a double barge. We told him that we realized we'd made a mistake and would move. This meant we had to go back under the bridge and find the shallow anchorage in the dark. So that is what we did. I told Dave that I'd rather go aground than be hit by a barge. He agreed. I slept like a log that night.
Enjoying our meal on the ICW at a beautiful anchorage (note green beans)
Yesterday we left the anchorage at Mile 29 on the ICW, went under nine bridges and through one lock. We left at 6:00AM to time the lock and bridge openings (some are on the hour only) as well as the tides later in the day. We anchored in Portsmouth/Norfolk, Virginia Mile 0 of the ICW at 11:30AM. We really lucked out with the timing and were surprised to get through all of that in 5.5 hours. We are having a bit of culture shock - in a good way - after traveling in rural areas for so many days and hitting the big city. Yesterday afternoon we walked through Portsmouth which has a unique collection of old homes that are not so grand and quite beautiful. Today we're in internet cafes in Norfolk. At the Prince Book Store Cafe, I had a sweet potato biscuit with surry ham and peach jam along with gazpacho and baby greens salad with grapes, feta and walnuts. Nirvana! Dave said it's fun to walk on city streets again for a change. Right now we're basking in the air conditioning at a mall catching up on internet stuff.
So we've made our first destination. Now with our guidebook and charts in hand, we will plot where we'll go next. All is good. Hope you are well.
Yesterday we left the anchorage at Mile 29 on the ICW, went under nine bridges and through one lock. We left at 6:00AM to time the lock and bridge openings (some are on the hour only) as well as the tides later in the day. We anchored in Portsmouth/Norfolk, Virginia Mile 0 of the ICW at 11:30AM. We really lucked out with the timing and were surprised to get through all of that in 5.5 hours. We are having a bit of culture shock - in a good way - after traveling in rural areas for so many days and hitting the big city. Yesterday afternoon we walked through Portsmouth which has a unique collection of old homes that are not so grand and quite beautiful. Today we're in internet cafes in Norfolk. At the Prince Book Store Cafe, I had a sweet potato biscuit with surry ham and peach jam along with gazpacho and baby greens salad with grapes, feta and walnuts. Nirvana! Dave said it's fun to walk on city streets again for a change. Right now we're basking in the air conditioning at a mall catching up on internet stuff.
So we've made our first destination. Now with our guidebook and charts in hand, we will plot where we'll go next. All is good. Hope you are well.
Sunset at the anchorage
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