Sunday-Tuesday June 5-7:  Out of the Chesapeake and into New Jersey

     We left Rock Hall very early Sunday morning.  We’d had a great meal with Denny and Laura at Waterman’s Restaurant, and afterward ice cream from The Scoop.  Such a treat all the way around.  It was sad to say goodbye.

     Those thunderstorms that had been predicted still hadn’t materialized, but today the air was heavy and the skies were very gray.  We wanted to get to the mouth of the Chesapeake & Delaware canal before anything hit so we left around seven for the quiet run up the Bay.

     Dan’s friend & fellow tug captain Joe sent us a message saying his tug was en route from Philadelphia to Richmond, and currently was entering the C & D canal.  We were ready with the camera when it appeared on our horizon.  Dan called on the radio, but Joe was off watch then, and probably sleeping.  

Joe's tug & barge.

     We dropped the hook in the Bohemia River, which is off the Elk River, which leads to the entrance to the C & D canal.  The thunderstorms were gathering in force in the West.  Joe texted us to tell us the tug had diverted to Baltimore to ride out the weather, and that it was raining quite heavily.  Warnings were broadcasted every fifteen minutes on the radio.  We were ready when it hit, about six in the evening.  It was a quick squall, with only one peel of thunder and perhaps an hour of rain and lots of wind, and then it was done and gone.  We barely collected more than a small jug of water.  

     Monday we again left early as the tide was most favorable to us in the canal then and would be again favorable in Delaware Bay in mid afternoon.  We planned to get all the way to Cape May, New Jersey, over sixty miles away.  It made for a very long day, but there were times we were making nine knots.  Pretty good for a slow motor-sailor!  We had a little company in the Delaware Bay: two other sailboats and one motor yacht, along with a passing line of container ships and a couple of tugs and barges.  We all managed to stay out of each other’s way.  Only two of us went into Cape May.  We got there about six in the evening and moved a few miles from the city to a small anchorage nearby.  I’d forgotten how New Jersey is built up on one side of the waterway and all marsh on the other.  Such a disorienting combination of wild and urban!  We had a supper of grilled turkey breast with mashed potatoes and gravy and turned in early.

     Tuesday was yet another early morning.  Dan wanted to take advantage of the tide offshore New Jersey so we left before seven.  We also wanted to be in an anchorage before the weather started showing influences of Tropical Storm Colin.  Colin is not forecast to come near this area, but it will affect the local conditions with gustier winds and ocean swells.  We’d rather not be offshore then.  We can’t travel the New Jersey Intracoastal from Cape May to Atlantic City because there are three fixed bridges with heights of 35 feet.  We need 37 feet.  (Most vessels don’t even bother with the NJ-ICW because even the fixed bridges of 55 feet aren’t tall enough, and because this waterway is notoriously shallow in spots.)  We traveled all morning on the outside, with favorable current but a following sea which made for a rather rolly ride.  It was hazy and overcast, but most of that cleared off by noon, when we reached the Absecon Inlet at Atlantic City. 

Atlantic City

Swift current against us in Absecon Inlet

    Tide was against us in the inlet, but we didn’t have far to go to the anchorage, and it didn’t take us too long.  We set the anchor about 12:30 pm.  We’ve been here before, so we know how to get ashore (leaving the dinghy in the reeds & climbing over a fence to get to the road) and we know where the grocery store, post office, and the internet access are.  

     Well.  The wifi was down at St. George’s Pub, and non-existent everywhere else.  We stopped in the Verizon store to order a new cell phone, and then went to pick up a few groceries.  Dan admitted to me then that he wanted to go about ten miles farther down the waterway so that tomorrow we could get all the way to Manisquan inlet in one day.  When we got back to the boat, we hauled the dinghy and weighed anchor.

     And promptly drifted aground.  It was low tide, it didn’t take much movement for us to find shallow ground.  We relaunched the dinghy and I lowered the anchor and most of the chain into the bow of it so Dan could use it to kedge us out of the mud.  He rowed out to deeper water, set the anchor by hand, and came back so we could crank the line in to pull the Willie around and out of the mud.

     Did I mention a large squall was heading our way?  The sky was thick with black clouds and a wind was picking up.  We took turns scanning the sky and cranking on the anchor winch.  We had let out all three hundred feet of anchor chain and rode; it took about twenty minutes, but we managed to set Willie afloat.  The shallow seas were starting to kick up now, and thunder was rumbling in the distance.  Dan headed us out of the anchor basin and back into the waterway, bucking the conditions in Absecon Inlet as the squall finally hit us.  Good thing we have a pilot house!

     I waited until we were well into the calmer waters of the ICW to start supper - it being a lot later than when we’d originally agreed to move on ten more miles - and the squall left us for the open ocean.  The rain was done, the sun came back out, and we had turkey pie as we headed toward our intended anchorage.

     We’ve used Skipper Bob’s Anchorage Guide.  Skipper Bob and his wife have done the Great Loop about a dozen times, and put together their extensive knowledge in a simple guidebook form.  He died over fifteen years ago, but the guide is still published.  We’ve been told some of the information is terribly outdated, and maybe so, but overall we still have made good use of the guide.  Our biggest peeve is the poorly written and sometimes erroneous information about the bridges along the way.  Tonight was the first time we found dangerously bad information about an anchorage.  The guide had the wrong marker listed for the turn, which we figured out, but it also said there was a lot more water than we found.  Yes.  We went aground again.

     This time we knew what to do and began immediately.  We launched the dinghy, lowered the anchor, Dan reset it with the dinghy, and within twenty minutes we were all set and sitting down to admire the sunset.  It was another very long day, but we’d accomplished what we’d set out to do.

Friday-Saturday June 3 & 4th:  Up the Bay to Rock Hall

     Friday we left Tangier quite early to take advantage of the tide.  At first we thought we’d head back over toward Solomon, where we’d visited the Calvert Marine Museum last fall, but we were making such good time, we continued up the Bay toward Cambridge.  The waters were calm and we were just about alone on the Chesapeake.  The skies were overcast and the forecast kept talking about thunderstorms, but nothing ever materialized.  On the way, we passed a bombed out shell of a ship that the Navy has used (maybe still uses?) for target practice.  We were very surprised that this wreck isn’t prominently mentioned on any of our charts.  It’s been around for decades.  

The bombed out wreck.

Hooper Island Light.

     When we got to the Choptank River, we’d already covered over forty miles and neither of us felt like continuing another ten down the winding river to Cambridge, so we just continued a little farther up the Bay and anchored in a little cove near Knapps Narrows.  It wasn’t mentioned as an anchorage in our book of anchorages, and we found out why around five in the morning on Saturday.

     This is a crab fishing ground.  The first fisherman showed up just before dawn.  He was very considerate of us, circling us very slowly and then leaving us alone.  Within an hour three other waterman came in and they all quickly divided up their territory, which they mark with inflatable buoys, and they all began dragging for crabs.  

One of our watermen.  You can see the drag net along the side.

     Not a good place to anchor.  We had breakfast, weighed anchor, and set off on our way.  Today is another grayish day, though the sun did come out for awhile.  We had an uneventful ride up to Rock Hall, where we will anchor for the night outside the marina.  Remember, this is the place Tommie went walkabout.  We’re not giving her the opportunity this time.   We’re planning to do a few errands - grocery, laundry - and will take my cousin Denny and his wife Laura out for dinner tonight.  Thunderstorms are again predicted.  Today it looks and feels like they will happen.  

Weds-Thurs June 1-2: Onancock & Tangier

     We left Cape Charles just in time to miss the favorable tide and again fought tide as we continued up the Delmarva peninsula.  Our destination was Onancock, a small historical town that David Briggs at Rebel Marine had recommended to us.  We had a fairly quiet day traveling, but at 4.5 knots it was a long day.  Onancock - which is a Native American word for “foggy place” - sits almost five miles up Cedar Creek.  As we meandered our way along, two sailboats overtook us to get to the anchorage before us.  Cruiser etiquette suggests a radio call to request a pass, but only the second boat hailed us;  the first one, once anchored, tried to direct us to a spot well away from him.  We dropped the hook in our own chosen spot.  There was plenty of room for the three of us.   (Later we heard that cruisers are told to get there early because the anchorage tends to fill.)

Onancock Town Dock & Marina.

     It was nearly five pm when we arrived in Onancock.  We immediately took the dinghy ashore to explore.  This is a proudly historic town, with little plaques giving the history of many of the houses and other buildings in town.  The downtown was once a bustling place of commerce, but now it sports a lot of art galleries and a few gift shops.  The only place to buy any groceries was a convenience store over half a mile down the road.  We had thought of buying a steak or something for the grill for supper, but instead we chose to go out to dinner at Mallard’s, a restaurant right on the water next to the town dock.  They had excellent, reasonably priced food, and we had a table overlooking the water.  We don’t eat out a lot, this was a nice treat.  We met some retired cruisers from Connecticut at the next table who now live here in Onancock.  One of them hailed us almost immediately “Are you cruisers?”  We must look the part.  They were very interested to hear about our travels.  We had lively conversation until the food came.

Onancock sunset.

     Thursday we weighed anchor around seven-thirty.  Today’s destination was Tangier Island.  This is a small marshy island in the middle of the lower Chesapeake, just below the Maryland border.  It was a gray, overcast day, and the weather report predicted patchy fog.  Fortunately we didn’t encounter any, nor did it drizzle as looked likely.  We had a quiet three hour run over to the island, some nine miles away.

     There is no place to anchor and there is only one marina.  Their prices are a real deal, especially considering they are the only way to stay here.

     Tangier has a reputation for crabbing, being a close-knit community, and for speaking in a dialect that some relate to Elizabethan English but sounds more like a Southern version of what you might here in Cornwall.   This place was settled by the Crockett family back in the 1600s, was visited and written about by Captain John Smith, and was a British stronghold during the War of 1812.  Three to five hundred people still live here, and the main industry is crab fishing.  Soft shell crabs are a specialty.  

     This is also a shrinking island.  Climate change with more several weather patterns, and rising sea levels are taking their toll on this island.  There is very little “high ground” left, and the houses are clustered on three or four ridges, surrounded by marsh and beaches.  They are intent on building a sea wall around the island to forestall their demise, and to a resident agreed on a 400% property tax hike to help raise the funds.  A small museum in town has a display in the window with map overlays showing the erosion and shrinkage through the years.  Fort Albion, the British stronghold of 1812 is now completely underwater.  Entire houses have been moved from streets that no longer exist to cluster with their neighbors.  The land is so flat, and space is such a premium that many people bury their loved ones in their front yards in raised crypts. 

     Dan and I spent several hours walking through the town, taking in the little museum, and reading the many historical plaques.  The streets are very narrow - reminiscent of Man o’ War Cay in the Bahamas.  Golf carts, small scooters, bicycles and foot traffic are the norm.  

     The watermen have “bungalows” - small sheds on stilts with our without a pier.  They tie their boats to pilings nearby, store their gear there, sort their crabs there.  This is soft shell crab season.  The fishermen bring in their catch and sort them into metal bins through which the sea water flows constantly.  They keep a constant eye on them.  Once a crab begins to shed it is moved to a separate bin.  When it has completely shed, a fisherman has only hours to prepare it for shipping before a new shell forms.  (If the new shell has started to form, the crab is tossed back into the sea to mature.)  There is an excellent display in the museum explaining all about the life and fishing of crabs, and for any interested, there is a great book called Beautiful Swimmer about crabs and crab fishing in the Chesapeake.  

     After our self-guided tour we had a simple supper aboard the Willie and sat in the cockpit watching the black skimmers fish.   

Tuesday May 31: Cape Charles

     We left Rebel Marina around ten this morning, and got about a mile away when we remembered we’d placed all our leftovers in their refrigerator.  David thought this was very funny when we showed back up at his dock.  We might have just left them, but I wanted my containers, and the leftovers - crab cakes, risotto with broccoli, potato salad, and remoulade - made for a great lunch.  

     Our friends Gretchen and Michael let us know they were going to be in Cape Charles, which is on the Virginia part of the Delmarva peninsula.  I sent her a quick message - are you still there?  Cape Charles was about three hours from Norfolk.  Yes!  She responded.  Come over, we’ll have dinner.  Dan set the course and we headed that way.

     Until we crossed the inlet that led to Norfolk, we were doing over 8 knots - what a ride!  Then we hit the cross current, which was flowing toward that inlet, not the same direction we were headed, and we slowed down to about 5 knots.  Our chart plotter informed us for the better part of an hour that it would take us three hours and fifteen minutes to get to our destination.  All in all, it took us about five and a half hours to get to Cape Charles.

Cape Charles town marina.  That's actually a water tower in the background, not a lighthouse.

     We missed the whole of the Delmarva peninsula on the way down last fall.  What a charming little town.  This was a railroad hub for the Eastern shore.   Railroad cars were carried over on barges and offloaded in town (and vice versa) ferrying freight and people back and forth across the bottom of the Chesapeake.  The rails, buildings, and barges are still in place.  The town must have purchased a good part of the rail yard and recently built a very nice marina with floating docks.  There’s a very new building with showers and large restrooms.  We hadn’t intended to stay at a dock another night but there is no place to anchor here, and this was cheap as marinas go.  So far Tommie is taking it in stride.  Perhaps the smells here aren’t that interesting, or maybe she is biding her time.  

     Dan and I took a walk into town and window shopped along the main street.  There is an ornate bank with large pillars that now houses the town library.  They did a good job utilizing the space while retaining the charm of the old-fashioned bank.  Even the vault is still in place, housing the local history section.  Nearby is an old-fashioned general store/hardware store.  Dan thought he’d died and gone to heaven.  I thought it was messy, and dirty, not to mention cluttered.  They have everything in there, but there is no rhyme or reason for the layout.  Fortunately the two guys working know exactly where to find whatever you might be looking for.  

An important part of the railway commerce was moving produce and grain from the Delmarva "breadbasket of the Chesapeake" to the Western shore.  

This is a view of the railway line that ran right down the pier to the barge.  The rails are all still in place on both.

     Our friends Gretchen and Michael came to get us around 5:45 pm.  They took us to their friends’ place nearby, a gorgeous place overlooking a horse pasture in front of the water.  Gigi and Roger cruised with Gretchen and Michael many years ago in Culebra and have remained close ever since.  They were fantastic hosts, serving up a huge feast of crabs, chicken, and corn which we shared on their beautiful screened porch.  The four of them were planning to attend a Bluegrass Music Festival several hours’ drive away, so Roger and Gigi retired early to prepare for that, while the rest of us cleaned up and caught up with each others’ adventures.  Gretchen and Michael have been cruising for many years, and were an inspiration to us as we prepared for our journey.  It was good to see them, and fun to meet their friends.

Dan, Kathy, Michael, and Gretchen

Monday (Memorial Day) May 30:  Norfolk VA

     Tommie showed us in the night that she has figured out how to open the screens in the pilothouse and that she has discovered that she can push out the screen in the porthole over the salon settee and climb out onto the deck.  We have been at docks for the last three nights and she has had enough of being locked in the cabin.  Lucky for all of us, she didn’t go anywhere.  We think.  She’s a smart cat, you have to admire that.  But we were planning to go to a marina in Norfolk for at least one night, and we did not need a repeat of her disappearing act.  Neither do we want to have to close all the windows and portholes.  

     Dan came up with the idea of just crisscrossing a line in front of the porthole.  This will make it a pain if we have to close it - we’ll have to untie the line - but for now it seems to deter her from launching herself at the screen.  For the bigger windows in the pilothouse, Dan told me he could think of a way to lock them so they don’t slide, but she’s ruining the screen itself.  For today we need to keep them closed.

     We locked through the Deep Creek Lock at the first opening - 8:30 am - and by noon we were in Norfolk.  Last time we came through here it was very busy:  military and cargo vessels coming and going, ferries and tour boats running around, tug boats everywhere.  Lots of activity.  The water was a bit rough too, and it was windy.   Today it was very calm, and we saw maybe three other vessels out in the entire river.  There was no military activity at all - no helicopters or planes.  I guess this is what Norfolk is like on Memorial Day.  The light, steady rain probably helped too.

Welcome to Norfolk/Portsmouth VA

USS Wisconsin along with the schooner Virginia and several small racing sailboats.

     We took a slip at Rebel Marina, home of the ‘tugantine’ Norfolk Rebel.  This is a great place, run by David Briggs.  We’d used their facilities last fall when we passed through, and were looking forward to doing so again.  I took care of the laundry and then Dan and I borrowed one of the courtesy cars to visit Home Depot for some pet resistant screen.  (Dan is going to replace the screens in the pilothouse.  We’ll let you know if Tommie is able to claw her way through them.)  The rain started to come down harder.  What do you do in the rain?  We sat in the hot tub.  If you’re going to be wet, you might as well enjoy it. 

     Crab cakes and broccoli for dinner.     

Saturday-Sunday May 28-29: Great Dismal Swamp

     Saturday morning, just as we were about to get underway, a crab fisherman (crabber? cabman?) made straight for us in his little open boat.  He held up a cigarette.  Did we have a light???  Dan grinned and said we could probably accommodate him.  He went below and returned with some wooden matches we keep handy.  The man couldn’t wait to light his cigarette, he took one of the matches and struck it several times on our teak cap rail and finally got his light.  After one long, deep drag, he looked up at us.  “You want some crabs?”  

     Bucket of crabs on board, we set off for the Albemarle Sound.  Dan made an apologetic face to me and said since we didn’t have ice or a fridge, we should probably deal with the crabs sooner rather than later.  Since he was at the helm, he meant I should deal with them.  (Or he would, if I took the helm.)  I set a pot on to boil to steam them, and then sat down in the cockpit to pick them when they were cooked.  I have a HUGE appreciation for people who have done this for a living.  What a mess!  Fortunately, cockpits are easily cleaned, and Dan set up the shower bag for me to wash up with.  For seven matches we got eight or nine blue crabs, and out of them, we had plenty for a nice crabmeat salad for lunch.  It doesn’t get much fresher than that.

     Another beautiful day as we moved up the Pasquotank River to Elizabeth City, which marks this end of the Great Dismal Swamp route.  We debated stopping at the free docks there, but decided to press on.  As we approached the area, Artemis came up behind and Laura conferred on the radio with Dan about our plans.  She was considering stopping at the docks for a night or two.  We let her know we planned to move as far as we could.  The first lock of the Dismal Swamp Canal has specific opening times, and we didn’t know if we could make the last one at 3:30, but there was a place to anchor just before it, and that was our goal if the timing didn’t work out for us.  Laura took one look at the Elizabeth City free docks and decided the SE exposure didn’t seem like a good idea.  “I’m going to follow you.”  She said.  

Artemis

     We made the 3:30 lock opening with fifteen minutes to spare.  The Dismal Swamp Canal is beautiful in the fall, and is gorgeous in the spring.  Oak, maple, and magnolia trees are in full bloom, as well as what other trees line this still, tea-colored water.  There is a speed limit here, and because of the locks on either end, there are no joy riders in their pontoon boats or jet skis.  We could hear birds singing and see turtles sunning on the banks.  Now our goal was the Welcome Center some five miles away, where cruisers tie up and raft up at the free docks there.  We’d been there in the fall and met some great people as we all lounged in the building on the couches there, taking advantage of the free wifi.

Line handling in the lock.

See how still the water is in the canal!

     Well, as we approached the Center we could see there were already boats rafted three deep in two spots. We could have filled in the third spot but construction on the septic system at the Welcome Center itself was making the air quite odiferous.  Dan got on the radio to Laura “We’re moving on.”  She decided to stay with us.

     Ten miles further along the canal we came to a very small dock just adjacent to the feeder canal that led to Lake Drummond.  We had just passed over the border into Virginia and were nearly at the end of the Dismal Swamp canal, as well as twenty miles from the end of the Atlantic ICW.  We had traveled over 61 miles today.

     It was after five and we were all tired.  We tied to the dock and Laura rafted Artemis against us.  We invited her over to share our shrimp dinner and she gladly came over, supplying the hors d’oeuvres of hummus, crackers, and fresh cherries.  It’s always fun to have company for dinner and to hear of other people’s lives and adventures.  We spent a great evening sharing food and stories, until dusk fell and the mosquitoes drove us back to our own cabins.  

     Laura left early the next morning, needing to get on to Norfolk.  Dan and I decided to launch the dinghy and explore the feeder canal to Lake Drummond.  At the end of the two mile canal is a small park with a self-operating motorized trolley that portages your dinghy from canal to lake.  The lake itself is huge.  It’s part of the Dismal Swamp and seems pretty remote, although there are access roads, but we were the only boat on the lake as far as we could see.  We didn’t stay long, as the skies were clouding over and the forecast was for rain and thunderstorms most of the day.  It did begin raining when we were about halfway back to the Willie, but it was a light rain and warm and we weren’t too bothered by it.

Lake Drummond

     Back on board, we hauled the dinghy and set up the water collection apparatus and continued the last ten miles to the end of the canal.  We decided not to leave the canal today, but to take advantage of the last two free docks.  The first one is right in the town of Deep Creek, just across the street from a large grocery store.  We stocked up on produce and bought a steak to put on the grill, and some frozen crab cakes for tomorrow night.  Then, as a handful of others were taking advantage of the last lock through at the end of the canal, we went to the little dock in the park just before the lock and tied up for the night.  Grilled rib eye and more corn on the cob for supper, a nice ending for a fairly quiet, rainy day.

Thursday-Friday May 26-27:  Oriental NC up through the Alligator River

     We once again secured a spot at a free dock in Oriental, though space was at a premium.  This town loves cruisers, and provides two free docks as well as clean restrooms.  However, it is also a town that has fallen on difficult times.  Many houses are for sale, a factory right on the water is closed, and a few businesses on the main street have changed hands a few times and are now vacant.  One of the remaining businesses - the Island Provision Company, which also runs a small marina - now lends out courtesy bikes to cruises to make the run for groceries.  Thursday morning, we donned our backpacks and set off.  That store wasn’t yet open, so we set off on the hike to the Walmart Express.  A few blocks into our walk, a car pulled alongside us.  “You folks heading to the grocery store?”  They asked.  We were, we said.  “It’s closed.”  They informed us.  “We don’t have a grocery store anymore.”  They then pulled into a nearby parking lot and told us to get in, they would take us to somewhere with groceries.  Dan and I piled into the backseat and our hosts - former cruisers originally from Rhode Island - filled us in on the grocery store’s demise.  The Walmart Express chain, after having installed themselves into many small towns across America and successfully put smaller Mom & Pop places out of business, decided they weren’t making enough money and closed all of its operations.  (In Oriental it closed down a family-run grocery, and a local pharmacy.)  After many months of no grocery store and stalled negotiations to buy the building, Oriental will have a new Piggly Wiggly in place in the near future.  In the meantime… our hosts dropped us off at a Dollar General.

     We’ve been to one of these before.  Basically it’s a cheap general store that has a LOT of snack food and some canned goods along with all kinds of non-food items that are made and sold for next to nothing.  This one also had a cooler with some cheese and milk next to the dizzying array of soda.  We were mainly interested in fresh meat, fresh produce, and butter, but settled for a few cans of cat food.  While we were staring at the potato chips and beef jerky a woman came over to us.  “Are y’all cruisers?”  She asked.  “I saw you got dropped off.  Do y’all want a ride back to the boat?”  

    Back at the boat, we decided not to hang around for the consignment shop to open (at 10:30) and Dan prepared for us to leave while I made a quick trip back to the corner Island Provision Company, now open.  They have a small shelf in the back with bargains and I was hoping to find some stationery.  To my delight when I walked in, they had a large display of fresh produce.  “Trying to make up for the lack of grocery store.”  The owner told me.  They hosted a farmer’s market in the parking lot every Saturday, and kept this small stock of fresh produce during the week.  I snatched up the last tub of strawberries as well as some veggies.  

     Isn’t Oriental great?

     Thus supplied, we headed out and back onto the ICW.  Along the way, we were treated to a display of some kind of military vessel - two of them were zipping around with several men aboard each.  No one had uniforms, and there was no insignia save the American flag, so we figured they were test drives of new vessels.  We dropped the anchor in Slade Creek for the night, mile 140, off the Pungo River.   

Military boats out for a test ride

Sunset in Slade Creek

     Friday we left fairly early.  We hoped to get in more than 40 miles today, so we could be in the Dismal Swamp when/if the tropical whatever brewing offshore arrived.  This part of the ICW is part creek, part river, part canal.  There are more crab pots, but nothing like the minefields of lobster buoys in Maine.  It’s still sunny and hot, the beginning of the holiday weekend, and everyone with a boat is out on the water, private and commercial.

     We made a brief stop at RE Mayo, the fish processing plant we’d visited last fall.  This place is such a gem.  Where else can you just tie up at a dock, walk through the working part of the building and be greeted with smiles and directions to the little store where fish, marine supplies, and hardware is sold?  We’ve heard too, that if there’s room, you can spend the night right at the dock for forty cents/foot.  I selected some frozen shrimp and frozen flounder while Dan browsed for the right size bolt he needed to fix the arm of the helm chair.  Here we met Laura, who is single-handing Artemis after many years ashore working in mental health care.  We continued our journey together, though we parted ways when she went to Bellhaven and we went on to anchor in South Lake, in the Alligator River.  Grilled flounder and corn on the cob for supper!

RE Mayo, Hobucken NC.