Georgia

         Cruising through Georgia is mainly a study in small tidal creeks and rivers winding back and forth through marshy areas.  You shouldn’t go fast, you need to pay attention to the tide and the depth, and the current along with Georgia’s anchoring restrictions dictate your choices for anchoring for the night.  We spent nights in Turner Creek, Crescent River, Jeckyl Creek, and Cumberland Sound, always making sure we were 500 feet from any approved commercial shellfish growing area and designated public harvesting areas, 300 feet from any marina, and 150 feet from any marine ‘structure other than a marina’.  (The state of Georgia kindly provides a link to a fuzzy map that is subject to change at any time and should not be used as an offering for any legal restraints…)  Confused?  You aren’t alone.  This is probably why many other cruises ended up in the same anchorages as we did.  

Cumberland Island

Our last day in Georgia included a trip to Cumberland Island.  We’ve been there before.  The Carnegie family once owned magnificent homes and a spacious plantation on the southern end.  They have donated the land and the ruins of the many structures to the National Parks, who in turn maintain the property to some extent and give tours.  There are two docks adjoining the park, but both of them have large signs declaring they are not to be used by the public.  One of them is partially used for a commercial vessel that brings people over from St. Mary’s GA, the other is partially used for the national park service vessels.  One of the recent hurricanes - not this year - caused some damage (it’s much more evident along the shore where many trees have fallen over banks eroded by storm surges), but little more has been done than to put up signs, tape, and barricades.  Cruises take their dinghies to the beaches and climb up over the eroded embankments to get to the park, which is open.  We used the beach next to the southern dock.

        We had a pleasant walk through the park to the beach and then wound our way back through the ruins of the mansion and assorted outbuildings.  I got some nice pictures of the armadillos rooting around and the new boardwalk leading to beach where Dan and a snake startled each other, both jumping straight up in surprise.  The snake felt it prudent to immediately drop down to the ground and slither away while Dan regained control of his heartbeat.  We saw the wild horses grazing in the ruins, but it was just the two of us and the birds on the beach.  We got back to the boat in time to enjoy dinner on the flying bridge, watching the beautiful sunset.

Boardwalk to the beach

Carnegie Ruins

Dunlin sandpipers

Tomorrow, Fernandina Beach.

Beaufort, SC

            We left Charleston along with a parade of about a dozen other boats, but we scooted under the Ben Sawyer bridge while most of them had to wait almost an hour for the next opening.  We listened to them chatter about who would follow whom and who was passing whom for much of the day.  It was cold but sunny, and our cruise was fairly uneventful.  We stopped for the night in Rock Creek, just off the ICW, which would make it an easy run to Beaufort in the morning. 

Seven years ago when we did this same adventure, we met some wonderful folks - Nancy and Perry Duke - cruises who live in Beaufort, and we’ve stayed friends ever since.  I let them know we were coming, and they responded oh yes they knew, they were expecting us, and did we want to come over for dinner?  Of course we did!  

        We got to Beaufort in the mid afternoon, after a short detour to Morgan Island, aka Monkey Island, where the US keeps a colony of rhesus monkeys for study.  Alas, big signs telling everyone to stay off the island, but no monkeys were seen or heard.  We anchored outside the mooring field next to one Beaufort’s free docks.  On a mooring nearby was s/v Calista, with Giles and Annick, whom we’d also met seven years ago, and they came right over to greet us.  They are also going to the Bahamas and we will probably see them again along the way and in the Bahamas as well.  

Morgan Island - NO TRESPASSING!

Peases and Dukes

    We went into town for a walk before meeting up with our friends Nancy and Perry.  Beaufort is such a pretty little town, with the Spanish moss draping the live oaks and the saw palmettos.  We were even treated to a rainbow. 

The Dukes put on quite a spread of fried shrimp and grilled chicken and side dishes, and graciously offered the use of their washing machine as well.  We had a wonderful time catching up with them.  Since we last met we have both traded in our Willards for trawlers.  In the morning we brought the Willie Dawes to the dock for the Dukes to have a tour and then they drove us to their marina to tour their Grand Banks Vero.  We hope to cross paths with them in the spring when they will be out cruising.  

Wednesday (Nov 23) we bid goodbye to the Dukes and to Beaufort to continue our way.  We stopped short of crossing the border, spending one last night in South Carolina in Wright Creek, within sight of the night life of Savannah, Georgia.

Today it’s Thanksgiving.  We had considered going to Savannah, but given the holiday, we figured nothing would be open so we crossed the Savannah River and meandered into Georgia for a few miles, making it a short travel day.  The highlight of our two and a half hours on the water was watching the dolphins cavorting in the wake of a container ship headed up to Savannah.  

Wake jumping!

We are in Turner Creek, looking forward to our own quiet Thanksgiving - turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, and squash - and some phone calls home to connect with our sons.  Happy Thanksgiving!!!  May your day be blessed with family, friends, food, and music.  

Rainbow in Beaufort, SC

Charleston

          Sunday was overcast and cold, with a strong NW wind blowing.  I know, I know, most people reading this are experiencing much colder temperatures, and maybe even snow, but we were wearing our winter clothes - hats, mittens, and down jackets as we went the five miles from Seven Reaches Creek to Charleston.  

Dan had picked out an anchorage well up the Ashley River, but as we turned into the river, he noted just how strong the current was.  We opted for a marina slip instead.  The Harborage at Ashley Marina is technically private, but they do let out slips to transients if they have any available, and they took us in at 1100 even though their website said check-in is after 1:00pm.  We tied up, safe from the current and protected from the wind, and Dan will sleep better tonight knowing the anchor won’t drag, and we won’t be bounced around when the wind blows against the flow.  

It’s a mile and a half walk to the center of the historic district, and we set off to see the sights and find some lunch.  We found a great little restaurant next to the City Market, called Tempest that offered a wonderful brunch menu.  I had the eggs Benedict, cooked perfectly, and Dan had a burger that they described as “smashed into caramelized onions” which he said was delicious.  When they brought the check, it was tucked into a paperback copy of Shakespeare’s The Tempest, along with a pen so we could add our names and comments to those left behind by other people.  

City Market

We walked and walked, window shopping and exploring many of the smaller specialty stores, and looking at the architecture in the French quarters and along the waterfront. 

Rainbow Row

        We spotted a march taking place along one of the streets and ended up joining a throng of people marching for unity and peace.  They were singing hymns and holding up signs declaring “One New Humanity.”   We marched to the steps of the historic old Customs House and listened to the reverend pray for repentance, forgiveness, reconciliation, unity, and peace.  It was pretty moving to be part of the group. 

One New Humanity march & rally

We retraced our steps through the market district and then through the large college campus of Charleston College (est. 1779) and back to the Willie Dawes.  The sun never did come out, and the wind never did die down, but we got our exercise and we’ll sleep well tonight out of the current.  

One of the many streets of Charleston College Campus

Georgetown

         It was a short run to Georgetown.  We were anchored in the harbor by 1130.  Georgetown is South Carolina’s third largest city, and was the heart of the rice industry during the antebellum years.  It’s a charming southern town with many shops and museums and historic houses and churches which date back to the 1700s.  We went ashore with a propane tank and walked through part of the downtown and the neighborhoods to the major shopping areas where we found a wonderful place called The Ice House which advertised worms, tackle, minnows, and hot dogs as well as ice and propane.  They had a refill station, which we prefer over a tank exchange, and our tank was filled in no time.  (We went back the next morning and had another one topped off.) 

Georgetown free docks next to the SC Maritime Museum.

Boat chores taken care of, we set off to tour the Gullah Museum, where the docent there explained the panels of one of the quilts in great detail.  The Gullah people were slaves brought over from several countries in West Africa.  Many were known for their craftsmanship and their ability to farm, both skills sorely needed in the new world, from the Caribbean and Mexico to colonial Carolina.  Under their guidance and of course, their unpaid labor, South Carolina became the rice capital of the Americas, growing acres and acres of rice and shipping it at great profit to England.  The next morning we toured the Rice Museum and we were very impressed with the engineering and brutally hard work it took to create a viable rice field.  Cypress swamps were cleared, dykes were built, small dams with hand-operated gates were created to control the flow of fresh water into the rice fields.  The process could take seven years.  If salt water got into it, the field was ruined for years.  Since then we’ve been able to spot remnants of dikes and dams all along the ICW between Georgetown and Charleston.  Rice was still grown here after the Civil War, but without that free labor it wasn’t nearly as profitable, and then a series of hurricanes in the late 1800s pretty much wiped out the industry in this state.  While there are a handful of working plantations here, rice is commercially grown in Louisiana, Texas, Arkansas, and California. 

Cypress swamp.

Rice field.

        We also toured the South Carolina Maritime Museum, a portion of which is devoted to depicting the slave trade.  Very sobering to see the ads for the slave markets and see the drawings of how the people were chained belly-to-back in the holds of ships.  South Carolina (Charleston) was thee port of call for slave ships.  

        Friday afternoon (Nov 18), after having seen as much as we could see in Georgetown, we left to continue our journey south.  We found a pretty spot in Minim Creek for the night and were entertained virtually all night by small boats buzzing by.  We think they were duck hunters staking out their spots for the morning, as we passed by several duck blinds, camoflauged boats, a decoys when we set out after sunrise.  We didn’t see any ducks, but we did hear the hunters shooting.  We did see egrets, herons, and oyster catchers, and there were also several dolphins that came to play at our bow.  We spent Saturday night in a beautiful little creek named Seven Reaches, not far from Charleston.

Seven Reaches Creek

As Promised: Dan's Adventure Monday Nov 7

Today, against any better judgement and certainly against the Mate's wishes, I set off in the dinghy, 4.5 miles downwind, with my trusty Torqeedo.

It was gusty and choppy in places, calm and quiet in others, depending on sporadic stands of Longleaf Yellow Pine.  The current was strong against me as I glued downwind.

My goal was R E Mayo's dock, a seafood company with about 5 or 6 hundred feet of dock frontage on this canal.  There I hoped to procure some fresh off the boat shrimp and maybe some frozen fish for our cooler bag.

About a mile into my trip I was observing a couple semi-open fishing boats ahead of me. One had a raised helm platform and was doing some high speed maneuvers, which to me looked like they were harassing the other boat, which I figured to be a fisherman.

I switched to the other side of the channel, as I didn't want to get tangled up with these guys, or worse, witness something dark.

Turns out the wild high speed circling was their way of setting a net, but it still looked like they were fouling the other boat who also seemed to have a net set.

I made it past without incident, keeping my head down.

Eventually I made my destination and went ashore for some fish the easy way, credit card!

Mayo's is quite the place, fresh shrimp, other fish frozen, tee-shirts, hoodies, marine paint, diesel fuel, galvanized bolts, oil, filters, sheeves, candy, soda, lots of rubber boots and gloves, you name it...

A nice gent scooped me 2 pounds of shrimp, (two shrimp boats with 75 ft high sissy sticks or stabilizers jabbing high into the sky were tied up) and some mahi mahi.  

As I walked out of the shop I saw that one of the high speed circlers was unloading his catch, (the fishermen we're unharmed) so I went back inside to ask what the fish were.  The nice lady that had processed my credit card told me the fish were Mullet and that they were full of roe, which she confided was thought by some to be an aphrodisiac. She did not wink at me when she said that.

So I tried to find out if they also used the fish other than just for the roe, and she went into this long involved explanation that included grilling, salting, and even some concoction which involved a blender, I kid you not!

I went back to my dinghy to start the slog back to the Willie Dawes against a pretty fair headwind. I was hugging the right hand side of the channel, following a fishing skiff, trying to stay in the lee, but apparently I got a mite too close as I struck something with my outboard motor. Oh no, broken sheer pin, no drive.

Well, there was no rowing the remaining 3.5 miles, so I turned around, under oar power now, and headed back downwind. I know Mayo's probably would have something I could make a fix with, but here in my path was a tiny USCG lifeboat station, so I figured I'd give them a try.  

USCG Hobucken (this photo was taken several days later)

I tied up at their neat concrete cove and headed up to the shop, hat in hand.

A chief was coming out as I walked up and asked if he could help me. Of course I said yes, this old Coastie is in a bit of a bind.  He was confused because he couldn't see my small boat, being shorter than their seawall, but he took me inside and got a couple young guys to help me. They came down to the shore, wide eyed as I explained that I had hit something and blown a sheer pin.  I unclamped the motor and they carried it to their shop.   

With my supervision, they got the propeller off and we're very curious as to the design of this little electric eggbeater.  I'm not sure they'd ever seen a sheer pin before.  But they were willing and we scoured the shop for a proper sized replacement, nail, cotter pin, farm hitch pin, whatever.

My USCG mechanic buddies

We finally settled on a piece of a hitch pin, a little small (thin), but I promised to go easy on it, got it all gently back together, and they lugged the jury rigged machine back to the waterfront, where I mounted it on my wee boat, assembled battery and control handle , bid my lifesavers thanks and goodbye, and set off. At about 100 feet I turned and gave a final wave, as my helpers watched me go, I'm sure thinking to themselves, "What the hell was that all about?"

After pounding into a 1 to two foot chop the rest of the way back, with the motor just a humming along, I arrived safely back at the Willie Dawes just after noon no worse for wear other than a wet bum from taking a little spray over my bow. The wind had not let up.

Best of all, Kathy had a hot cup of beef and barley soup all ready for me. Boy did that taste good after my big morning's adventure!

Taylor Creek to Myrtle Beach

            We went ashore in Beaufort to take a walk around and to look for a place that might sell butter.  Most waterfronts have a convenience store or two, but few sell dairy products.  Beaufort is a very history little town, very Southern in architecture with wide porches and gated yards.  Very charming.  It was Sunday morning, so very little was open, but we did eventually find a small bodega that actually sold several brands of butter.  The wind picked up as we were headed back to the boat but luckily it didn’t start sprinkling until we were on our way south again.  We had a fairly uneventful cruise following the parade of boats, and most of us ended up in Mile Hammock Bay, a large protected anchorage in Camp LeJeune.  Last time we were here (spring of 2016) the marines were playing war games all night and we listened to their gunfire.  This time, all was quiet and we had a beautiful sunset.  

Mile Hammock Bay, Camp LeJeune

Monday we just followed the crowd to Carolina Beach, where we all dispersed into marinas or into the anchorage.  Tuesday we again left after the crowd in the morning, this time because we wanted to make a lunch stop in Southport at one of our favorite little restaurants, Fishy Fish.  We called ahead for takeout and I ran ashore to collect it while Dan was tying up.  I came back before he was finished securing the last line, so he just started untying and we were back on the water within ten minutes of pulling in to the restaurant dock.  Shrimp and grits for him, portabello sandwich and fries for me.  Yum! 

We crossed into South Carolina mid afternoon and found a small anchorage in Calabash Creek not long afterward, joining many of the boats who’d shared the Carolina Beach anchorage with us.  

    

        Today (Weds Nov 16) was sunny, but it was still chilly.  A cold front is taking over the east coast; we hear there’s snow back home in some parts of Maine.  Nevertheless, we decided to brave the flying bridge helm - bundled up in watch caps and long pants - and we enjoyed the cypress-lined waterway through the wilder parts of Myrtle Beach. 

Cypress Trees along the ICW

We toyed we going to Georgetown for a marina - we needed to do laundry - but decided to make an earlier day of it and took a slip in Osprey Marina, a little hole-in-the-wall marina right off the ICW in Myrtle Beach.  The entrance looks dauntingly narrow, but it's deep and the dockhands were waiting to catch our lines, everyone very friendly.  We'll save Georgetown for tomorrow.

Entrance to Osprey Marina

Eastham Creek, Campbell Creek, Taylor Creek

         We spent two nights in Eastham Creek and three in Campbell Creek, moving from one to the other when we needed different protection.  Tropical Storm Nicole was influencing strong winds long before she upgraded to a hurricane and made landfall.  Unlike our previous layover this fall, we had very little rain and sometimes it was sunny.  On the first day Dan decided to take the dinghy four miles over to RE Mayo, a small local seafood buyer & distributer that sports a big sign welcoming recreational boaters.  He bought a couple pounds of shrimp and some frozen mahi mahi and there’s a story here, but I’ll let him tell it.  

Shrimp in garlic sauce

On the second day Dan decided to hook up the remaining three solar panels we have mounted over the back boat deck.  He also adjusted the anchor chain wash down hose, reprogrammed some of the electrical panels, and worked on a few other odd jobs around the boat.  I decided to just hang out and read - pretty much what I’d done the day before, too.

Eastham Creek Sunset

        On the third day, in anticipation of the windshift, and to generate some hot water, we moved out Eastham Creek, across Goose Creek, and into Campbell Creek.  The scenery varied only in that there were more houses and docks here.  We took a dinghy ride farther up the creek just to explore a little, and to look for the resident alligator named Charlie.  We saw a few ducks, lots of fish jumping, and a woman standing on her porch, but no Charlie.  

Campbell Creek Sunrise

Nicole made landfall and tossed handfuls of rain at us on Friday, our fourth lay day. Since she decided to take the inland route instead of the coastal route, we were not the recipient of heavy rains and thunderstorms, and since we were on the ICW and not on the coast, we also didn’t experience the storm surges and rip currents that ravaged a lot of the East coast, especially in Florida.  Saturday morning it dawned sunny and still and we were more than ready to pick up anchor and move on.  

We joined a steady parade of southbound boats who came out of their anchorages and marinas, stopping again at RE Mayo for more shrimp and this time, some red snapper, as well as to top off our fuel tanks.  The skies clouded over and the wind picked up - it was much windier than we’d expected - but no one in the parade was going to stop, and we all resolutely continued on until we reached Beaufort (pronounced Bow-fort, as opposed to Bew-ferd, which is Beaufort SC) or the adjoining Morehead City.  We are anchored here in Taylor Creek with about thirty other vessels, and we can hear the surf crash just a mile or so away.  

Shrimp boats at the RE Mayo dock.

Elizabeth City to Tuckahoe Point and on to Eastham Creek Point

         The Ektopia and we were up early to make that 0830 lock and to be in Elizabeth City by noon.  Elizabeth City is well known for its hospitality toward cruisers.  There are a at least three different sets of free docks, and we chose to come in to one right next to Ektopia.  I had notified my cousin Veronica, who lives relatively nearby, that we would be arriving in Elizabeth City and she and her husband Luka came to meet us for lunch.  We had a great meal from a local deli with beer and wine from a local brewery, and had a wonderful time catching up.  It’s always so much fun when family or friends can come share our adventure! 

My cousin Veronica

In the evening we were invited to come join Karl and Laura of Ektopia on their back deck and we spent over an hour getting to know each other.  They divide their time between the US and Sweden and spent this past summer in Canada on their boat.  It’s always so interesting to hear about other people’s adventures.  

We both left just before sunrise to take advantage of another gorgeous day.  We’d heard of a storm brewing, though details at this time were sketchy.  We knew Sunday and Monday (Nov 6 and 7) were going to be warm and calm and we thought we’d get as far as we could before we needed to find a place to hunker down for whatever was coming.  We had a beautiful cruise down Albermarle Sound and into the Alligator River.  We chose Tuckahoe Point for our destination, Ektopia kept on going into the Alligator-Pungo canal.  Dan and I settled down to watch the sun set (before supper - thanks Eastern Standard Time!) and had our first encounter with mosquitoes.  We are really in the south now.  

Moonset, Tuckahoe Point

I got up early Monday because the cat was sure it was time to be fed, and was treated to a beautiful moon set.  Ten minutes later, well before sunrise, a patch of colorful light appeared in the sky.  I sent pictures to my cousin Denny in Rock Hall, who is an amateur astronomer, and he said this phenomenon is due to the ice crystals in noctilucent clouds.  I’d never seen that before.  It was beautiful, and the beginning of one more gorgeous day.

Pre-sunrise, Tuckahoe Point

        We cruised through the Alligator-Pungo canal into the Pungo River and across the Pamlico River and into well-protected Eastham Creek to anchor near the Eastham Creek Point.   We know now what is coming: the fringes of Tropical Storm Nicole, which may hit Florida as a Category 1 hurricane.  We have a nice safe, inland place to wait it out and see what else it might send in our path.  

Eastham Creek Point

Portsmouth and the Great Dismal

         Our friends Bob and Jeanne came to visit us in Portsmouth.  We went out to breakfast at a great little place Yoolks on Us, who accommodated our desire to sit outside, even though they weren’t officially serving people out there.  

Bob and Jeanne 

Afterwards Dan and I took a short walk through the Olde Town portion of Portsmouth to see the many charming homes and churches.  Each block is named and there are many placards telling the history of the building, home, or entire street.  We didn’t have time to visit the Portsmouth Naval Museum, which was literally beside our dock.  Next time.  Today we wanted to get into the Great Dismal Swamp.

We almost missed the turnoff.  There was a long line of cruisers going south, and all of the ones in front of us chose the other ICW route - the Virginia Cut.  We turned down Deep Creek and made the lock at 1330, officially entering the canal by 1400.  

We love the Dismal.  It’s so beautiful and so peaceful, and this time of year, so colorful.  We cruised along at a pleasant 4 knots, enjoying the solitude.  About half way through the canal we stopped for the night at the tiny free dock across from the feeder ditch that leads to Lake Drummond. 

In the morning we took the dinghy up that ditch, two and a half miles, to the little park and dam run by the Army Corps of Engineers.  There is a self-operated electric tram that portages your dinghy from the feeder ditch into the lake itself.  We used it seven years ago to get to the lake to explore, but this time, it wasn’t in operation and apparently hasn’t been operational for awhile.  We sat at one of the picnic tables to enjoy our snack and greeted a couple of local kayakers who pulled up with their lunch.  They would go on to tour the lake, but we didn’t feel like lugging the dinghy up over the land, so we just went back down the feeder ditch to our boat, untied and started cruising again.  We crossed from Virginia into North Carolina and decided to bypass their welcome center’s dock to tie up at the wall down near the end of the canal.  However, the seawall we’d been expected was between the bridge and the lock, and neither would open until 0830 the next morning, so we ended up turning around and going back to the welcome center, where we met the people on Ektopia, with whom Dan had been chatting on the radio.  We weren’t the only vessel to come in after dark; about an hour later a catamaran came in to take the last spot on the dock.  After we convinced the catamaran to shut off their generator, we all had a quiet night.