May 29-31, 2012

Although well protected in Horseshoe Bend at St. Mary’s City we could sense there was brisk wind on the big Chesapeake pond when we awoke.  Our sense was confirmed when we passed the channel markers and could feel the ten 10-15mph Southwest wind fill Aurora’s sails, propelling us eastward at an unbelievable 8 ½ knots, her fastest ever.  As is usually the case it was not sustainable and upon turning northward she slowed considerably.  Still, we covered forty miles to our Solomon Island destination in 6 hours.  Feeling truly humbled after trying to set the anchor five times we opted to avoid further embarrassment and pick up a mooring ball.  Maybe someone was trying to tell us something.  Storms did come through during the night and next morning making us thankful to be secured on a big white ball.  With the weather overcast and intermittent showers it was the perfect chance to do the much-needed cleaning of the boat and laundry, still leaving time for an afternoon snooze.

Our plan was to arrive in Annapolis, MD on the west coast of the Chesapeake around 3:00p.m. today.  We’ve coined a new saying, or at least we think it’s new, “Cruisers can’t be choosers” to explain what we cannot control.  Up, dog to shore and on the water by 6:45a.m., winds expected out of the north at 10-15mph which we’ve ventured into before without a problem, or so we thought.  And actually it was not too bad to begin with, but as the wind increased to the higher than expected range, bringing 4–5 ft. waves on our nose, so did the realization we would need to head to a sheltered anchorage. After studying charts, guidebooks, and Active Captain, we exhausted the west coast possibilities where there were none closer than 30 miles.  Unable to face that many miles of tacking back and forth with little forward progress we gladly entertained changing plans and headed northeast to the Choptank River and along the east side of Tilghman Island. Not exactly close, but on the right tack to make forward progress without being battered about.  Sheltered from the northerlies we arrived at 12:45p.m in Waterhole Cove off Harris Creek.  After lunch and naps for all, Sherwood Township dock was just the ticket for Fitz’s evening shore duty.  Walking about a half mile took us past the twenty houses in the town and a beautiful cornfield across the peninsula to a locals beach hangout, Lowe’s Wharf overlooking the Chesapeake.  A place we would have never found except for our dramatic change in plans, sometimes it works out best if “Cruisers can’t be choosers.”                       

Monday, May 28, 2012 Memorial Day

Crossing over the Potomac into the St. Mary’s River yesterday ushered us into Maryland.  The morning was clear over the Horseshoe Bend anchorage when we dinghyed ashore to take a jog around St. Mary’s College of Maryland’s picturesque campus overlooking the mile-wide harbor.  Brick paths wind around and through tree-covered naturalized habit.  Other than the barrage of large biting flies under the trees it was enjoyable exercise.  Fritz especially liked the occasional squirrel that temptingly ran across his path just out of reach.  We keep telling him they would not make a good best friend, but he doesn’t seem to get it.  

When we moved to Punta Gorda and began the job of getting Aurora ready to sail every day seemed to be a “boat project” day.  Since leaving home with only minor emergencies which needed attention we haven’t spent a whole lot of time on time consuming repairs.  Shortly after Dennis prepared pancake and bacon breakfast in the galley he announced that this would be one of those project days. 

He began by removing the impeller he had just installed two days before.  After reading the manual he realized he had unknowingly put it in backwards and also that it needed greasing.  What’s that old adage, “If all else fails, read the directions?”  

Ever since Dennis installed the auto pilot we’ve heard an occasional “clank, clank, clank,” sound when we use it.  So next on the list was to tighten its chain-driven mechanism.  We’ll have to wait until we’re under sail to check out if it’s better or worse. Hopefully it won’t be on the list again. 

Last, was another attempt to fix the pesky leaky cabinet that has plagued us for several months.  This would be our second attempt.  Whenever it rained water was dripping into the cabinet where we keep dishes.  Never mind the dirty dishes, water soaked wood anywhere on a boat is not a good thing.  Taking the wood cabinet apart was the only way to be able to see where the water was seeping through from the deck.  With me on the outside pouring water onto different places where it might be getting in and Dennis perched on top of the lid of the freezer in the galley we finally found the culprit to be one of the stations.  After silconing the bottom of the station and tightening the fittings on the other hoses in the cabinet, hopefully this problem is also finally resolved.

With plenty to keep Dennis busy, I decided to take a ride into the nearest town on the Maryland public transit, but after waiting a few minutes at the stop realized they would not be coming on Memorial Day.  Instead I turned and headed up Church Point hill to the site of the Maryland’s first settlement and capital.  Other than the college, post office, and the Trinty Episcopal church, St. Mary’s City is really just an archaeological site of the colonial city dotted with a few replicas of original buildings.  Maryland was founded in 1607 on religious tolerance, by the second Lord Baltimore.  One hundred forty colonists came over on two boats, the “Ark” and “Dove” in 1634.  After the capital was moved to Annapolis in 1695 the city was abandoned and the site used mainly for agriculture leaving behind a rare archaeological record, probably the most undisturbed, intact colony in the nation.  When the first capital was torn down the original bricks were used to build the Episcopal church which still overlooks the river over Horseshoe Bend.  A delightful reproduction of the “Dove” sits docked in the peaceful water just below the city.  It makes short voyages around the Chesapeake with the assistance of an iron jenny.  I thoroughly enjoyed walking the historical paths of the first Maryland citizens.

Students from St. Mary's enjoyed the light winds as they glided sunfish around and through the waters off the shore in the afternoon, while we enjoyed their enthusiasm and joy of learning to sail.

Tomorrow we’re bound for Solomon Islands, and then on to Annapolis.   

Sunday, May 27

If you run a ground but you get yourself off, is it an official “grounding?”  On our way to the anchorage by St Mary’s College in the St Mary’s River needed to get fuel at Dennis Point Marina, which is off in one of the smaller coves.  Upon entering the cove we could see it was very shallow but with the sunlight at the right angle we could actually see the deeper water.  We made in but, “YIKES!” the depth gage went to zero on the way.  I told Shirla we would have a hard time getting back through.  Shortly after docking we heard one of the power cruisers who had just left the dock call over the radio, “We’ve run aground in
3½ feet of water!”

“Oh boy,” I thought.  It took about 10 minutes for the other boat to get pulled off, before we could take our turn.  Sure enough, as we tried to snake our way out in what looked like the way we came in; the boat lurched up out of the water then back down again, stopping dead.  What a sickening feeling.  Thankfully the wind blowing helped us get off as I first tried forward, then backward and sidewise.  Once off, I could not get the bow turned to go forward  so now instead we are backing out the narrow channel; I am thinking,  “I really do not want to hit something going backwards with the rudder,” when…too late.  As soon as I felt the tug on the rudder, I put it in forward again, did a spin, finally able to get into the deeper water.  From there we went on to the beautiful anchorage by the college.  As soon as the hook was set I needed a cold beer, cigar and nap to fully recover from the stressful fifteen minute adrenaline rush.       

What we thought would be an amazing sailing adventure for us has delightfully turned into an unplanned excursion back in time.  On Friday our National Parks guide walked and talked us across the Yorktown Battlefield’s earthworks, siege lines, encampment areas and Surrender Field, bringing the Revolutionary skirmish to life with his canon-like voice.  This last major battle of the Revolutionary War included the continental army, militias from the colonies, and our new ally, the French.  Most everyone knows the end of the story and of Lord Cornwallis’ surrender to General Washington, but here are some lesser-known facts that caught our attention.

Did You Know:

1.    Approximately 16,000 soldiers snuck away from New York territory and marched 450 miles in the heat of August and September to Yorktown, VA in a little over a month. 

2.    French warships blockaded and later defeated British ships which were headed to relieve Cornwallis, thus helping to insure the victory at Yorktown for the Revolutionary troops. 

3.    There were more French soldiers killed in the battle at Yorktown than from the Continental Army or militia.

4.    Lord Cornwallis sunk his own ships to prevent other ships from entering the York River and coming ashore.

5.    When it came time to surrender, Lord Cornwallis pretended to be ill sending his second in command to surrender to General Washington.  When Washington heard Cornwallis had sent his second in command, he had his second in command accept the official surrender rather than take it himself. 

6.    Although this was the last battle, it would take Britain two years to come to terms with the colonists in the Treaty of Paris, ending the war and enabling the colonists to gain their freedom.

7.    General Washington’s original tent is displayed in the National Parks Battlefield Museum in Yorktown.

Dedication to the cause of freedom, amazing leadership and selfless sacrifice, soldiers then, soldiers now.  Thank God for these incredible servants giving of themselves to gain and protect freedoms for all.

Venturing into the Chesapeake again today we were encircled by gliding tiny white triangles as sailors took to the water for the holiday weekend.  Winds were light though and we, as many eventually succumbed to the iron genny.  Dennis keeps a close watch on the temperature of the engine, and noticed about half way to our destination the motor was running a little hot.  He slowed it down, and was able to maintain a constant temperature without overheating.  When we arrived in Deltaville and safely anchored, he found and replaced the damaged impeller blades.  Would you believe it, one of the smallest towns we’ve visited has not one, but two West Marines?  It was a five mile bike trip to pick up a spare impeller and stop in at the grocery store along the way.  Thinking seriously about buying stock in West Marine.  

Gone, but not forgotten, remembering with grateful hearts all who have served and sacrificed to keep our country free.     

Have a wonderful holiday weekend.

May 24

Sailing on the Chesapeake, yea!  With a deep sigh, finally we were able to shut off the monotonous iron jenny and sail in 10-13 knot SE winds after motoring out of Norfolk and arriving upon the world-renowned waterway.  Bestowed upon us was our absolute best sail of the forty-seven days, and confirming our reason for venturing so far from home.  It was a bit breezy when we got to the mooring field on the York River in Yorktown and the dock master suggested to try a quiet anchorage across the river.  But no, we instead tied to a mooring ball and rock-n-rolled.  The real fun was when we took Fritz to shore and the waves carried us quickly in.  Guess what, they don’t carry you out.  So much to learn about big water…we will try to avoid that situation in the future. 

A tour of Yorktown is on the list for tomorrow and probably trying that quieter anchorage on the North side of the York in the Sarah River.

This is the description of the massive aircraft carrier we passed by today as we left Norfolk.

USS George H.W. Bush (CVN-77) is the tenth and final Nimitz-class super carrier of the United States Navy.  She is named for the 41st President of the United States George W. Bush, who was a naval aviator during World War II. Bush's call sign is Avenger, after the TBM Avenger aircraft flown by then-Lieutenant George Bush in WWII. Construction began in 2001 at the Northrop Grumman Newport News shipyard and was completed in 2009 at a cost of $6.2 billion. She is home ported at Naval Station Norfolk, Virginia. 

Did we feel dwarfed and humbled as we glided by her, and this was just one of dozens of naval vessels lining the Hampton Roads water on the way out of Norfolk.  Of all the sites along the way this has been by far the most impressive and invoked a great sense of pride in our country’s strength.

We are still alive and want to apologize to our faithful followers for the lag in posts.  As most of you know I have had health issues over the last couple of weeks.  Unsure as to what was ailing me we headed to the emergency room on our arrival here in Norfolk at noon on Monday.  After one CT scan, no diagnosis, and seven and a half hours later they sent us on our way.  At least we knew what it wasn’t.  My comment to Dennis after two more days of sleeplessness and extreme pain was, “I guess if it was going to kill me it would have done so already, right?”  In my “top most painful experiences” this ranks as number one.  Last night was the turning point though and I feel I am finally able to continue the trip rather than turning for home. 

Now to catch up:  Monday, the 21st we motored through what’s known as the Virginia Cut of the ICW, which included maneuvering through 11 bridges, crossing over the state line of North Carolina into Virginia, traversing the Great Bridge Lock, up the Elizabeth River, passing numerous docked vessels and intense industrial harbor activity into Waterside Marina.  Much of the din and clamor found here is created by the super Naval carriers lining the harbor, and the seemingly miniature tugs pushing and tooting as they struggle to move the silver giants into the waterside garages for repair.  As always they are accompanied by flashing blue lights making sure that every vessel keeps their 500 yard distance from their charges. 

On Tuesday Dennis explored Norfolk with a tour of the Nauticus Maritime Museum including the Iowa Class Battleship Wisconsin whose last tour of duty was the first Iraq War where it fired tomahawk and cruise missiles.  Its sixteen inch guns had a range of twenty-three miles.  There were four Iowa Class Battleships, the Iowa, New Jersey, Wisconsin and the Missouri.  Although the Missouri was No. 3 it was actually the newest.  The other three battleships were all chagrined when the Japanese surrender took place on the Missouri.  Let’s see, wasn’t President Truman from Missouri?  

One of Dennis’s fears has been the dingy falling.  He securely ties its lines to the davit so it won’t swing, but has often thought about what might happen if one of the pins or blocks on the line would break.  Well yesterday morning upon inspection he realized it was only hanging by the eye of the line which had gotten stuck in one of the blocks…the pin holding the block had broken.  Quickly he temporarily secured the lines, took a $30 taxi ride to West Marine and later replaced the blocks.  Thank you Lord for another catastrophe avoided and a captain who’s also a mechanical engineer.

Thankfully today we are again on our way, free of the ICW ditch and into the mystical Chesapeake.

      

”Terror to tranquility,” aptly decribes yesterday’s five-hour emotional gamit.  Fritz and I again huddled below out of the blowing rain, cold and 15-20 knot northerly winds, but the effect of the five foot waves on Albermarle Sound were clearly felt and heard below deck.  Tropical Storm Alberto’s circling influence made this our worst day in the 5+ weeks on the water.  And Dennis again endured the elements knowing it would put us one day closer to Norfolk and medical options for me.  Fritz and I clung to each other whispering, “Only two more hours, only one more hour, only a half-hour…I SEE LAND.”  Not exactly tranquility, but in the shelter of the ICW we could relax and finish our trek to Coinjock, NC letting blood pressure normalize and terror subside.  Safely secured to Midway Marina around noon was finally tranquility.

You know when you hear a died-in-the-wool sailor yell, “My next boat will have a pilot house,” that the weather out there is pretty awful.  Today for about seven hours clothed with jeans, long-sleeved shirt, heavy shoes, gloves, heavy waterproof jacket and pants, socks, and life jacket, head bent against the wind, plowing through whipping salt spray he endured, allowing Fritz and I to stay below in the dry, cozy cabin.  Another day not meant for wimpy sailors.   

Upon arriving at the Alligator River Marina, and unable to pull up to the fuel dock right away it was necessary to turn multiple 360s, while also dodging the crab pots in the channel.  About that time as I was retrieving a fender from the back hatch the lid hit me on top of the head, a little painful, but no big deal.  I continued with my duties getting the lines ready to throw to the dock hands as we pulled up to the fuel dock, when all of a sudden I noticed blood dripping down onto my yellow jacket.  Feeling my soaking hair, I’m thinking, maybe this is a bigger deal than I first thought.  After we get tied up to the fuel dock and a total stranger jumps on board to help us, Dennis orders me down below. Unable to find an ice pack in the freezer, instead I grabbed a bag of frozen peas, quickly stopping the bleeding (now that was a picture.) 

Next we needed to move to the slip, and again the unknown stranger stayed to help us out.  Come to find out this stranger isn’t really a stranger at all, it’s Punta Gorda sailor, Duane along with wife Diane on “Diva Di” who we’ve been following by boat and blog up the coast since April.  We not only met new friends, but ones who came to our rescue just when we needed them.  They mentioned cocktails and Dennis immediately offered Aurora’s wide cockpit for the gathering.  Eleven strangers met, talked, laughed, languished over what day to cross the rough waters of the Albemarle Sound, and made eleven new cruising friends.  What an awesome end to an awful beginning.

Although I am feeling much better today, am not 100%, and will continue to moniter symptoms over the next few days until I complete the antibiotics. 

And the cut, that turned out to be minor, or at least that’s what the captain tells me.  Course he sailed a race once with a minor gash in his head which later needed six staples.  On second thought, I think I’ll get a second opinion.      

Wednesday/Thursday May 17/18 - Not so good

An early start from our secluded anchorage in Cedar Creek after a night of storms got us across a calm Neuse River and an easy motor to our new anchorage at Belhaven, NC.  This is a rather small town with a grocery store about two miles out of town.  We decided to make the trek to the grocery store but as we just started our walk Dennis flagged down a local and asked for a ride.  It worked!  A nice young man named Ivan gave us a lift to the grocery store and told us in his North Carolina drawl of his heritage: he was born in the States but both of his parents immigrated from Mexico twenty-four years ago (he was quick to tell us they are all legal). 

It has been a rainy day since we anchored here in Pantego Creek (Belhaven), but that has been fine.  We discovered another “fix” for the boat.  It appears the Captain has been putting too much oil in the transmission and it has been overflowing into the bilge.  We’ll be checking to see if the flow of oil has now stopped.

ATTENTION!

This is the 18^th and all is not well.  We stayed over in Belhaven because Shirla was not feeling well and they have two clinics and a small hospital right in town.  First thing this morning Shirla walked into one of the clinics and the nurse practicioner thinks she has kidney stones.   After the clinic we went to the local hospital and they said they would not do a CAT scan until tomorrow and only then if she is in severe pain.  I am picking up three prescriptions this afternoon and we will play it by ear from here. 

A major problem with this little town is we have no cell service.  So no one can call us or vise versa.  I am in the local library posting this as they have wireless.  I will come back this evening to check email.

That is all for now.   

Wrightsville Beach, even on Mother’s Day owned up to its name with many and varied beachgoers, walking, flying kites, covering up with blankets, and surfing.  Among our finds in the sunny North Carolina beach city were West Marine, Harris Teeters, Robert’s Groceries, Wings beachwear and dinner at Baja 7.

First thing Monday morning was an 8:00a.m. dinghy ride to the city’s very convenient docks (only a block off the beach) and then a mile walk to the post office so we could mail off daughter Andrea’s baby shower gifts.  The post office opened at 8:30, walked back to the docks, dinghyed back to Aurora, pulled and secured the dinghy onto the davit, ready to pull anchor at 9:05, and motor the Wrightsville Beach Bridge’s opening at 10:00 (there wasn’t another opening until 11:00.)    

Just as we entered the ICW I heard the captain say, “Wonder what they want?”  We soon found out we had qualified for a “blue light special.”  The Coast Guard decided we needed a boarding and inspection.  We're both thinking, there's no way we'll make the bridge by 10:00 if they do a full inspection.  Two nice young officers came aboard but allowed us to motor towards the bridge.  After showing our boat registration, fire extinguishers, closed thru hulls, rules of navigation, and identification we received a clean bill of health, able to proceed on to the bridge opening in 15 minutes. 

Next came “trouble over bridged waters.”  Because North Carolina seems to think they only need to open their bridges on the hour and a few on the half hour its tricky to time it so you get there at the right time. Our timing was good so far, but our luck was about to run out.  On our approach to the second bridge, Figure Eight Island Bridge at 10:30 we were about 5 minutes away, Captain calls the bridge tender asking, “Could you hold for us, or is there any flexibility on the opening?”  Bridge operator in his North Carolina drawl, “Yes sir, my flexibility is 11:00.”  Obviously flexibility means something different in North Carolina.  So we waited.  For the third bridge, Surf City Bridge, and a 1:00 opening, we were on time, but the tender opened 10 minutes early, leaving us to drop an anchor, and we waited again, until 2:00.   Having no schedule really is a very good thing.

Our plans were to anchor at Mile Hammock Bay, which is a lagoon cut out by the military for maneuvers when Camp Lejeune Marines need it.  The unknown factor is they can boot you out, day or night.  We opted to stop at New River Marina for fuel and just stayed the night.  This place is the marina answer to Deliverance. Actually it is okay, but when I asked where their 30 amp service was (they said it was included in the price) they said, “It is a duplex outlet on the light pole.”  But the boat was secured well to the dock, it only cost $1/foot, and the best deal was the lowest fuel price of the whole trip, $3.51 diesel. Maybe they’re not so bad after all; we even picked up a 12 pack of Yuengling in their bait/store/marina. 

You might just be a cruiser if you:

wake up in the middle of the night planning how you and your wife will safely  hoist a 235 pound generator onto your sailboat using only a halyard (main sail line on the boat) and the car

spend more time in West Marine than you do at the grocery store

consider cleaning the boat part of your daily workout

tell people the boat is your “Man Cave”

respond affirmatively when someone says, “Five months on a 40 foot sailboat with your wife. Are you crazy?”

can agree with your friend who comments, “I hope you’re still married when you get home.”

purchase “Marriage Savers” just in case (headsets to cut down on the yelling when anchoring)

have more spare boat parts than your wife has shoes

pay better attention to the chart plotter than you do to your spouse

after training your dog to never ever pee on board, give him a treat when he makes the boat bow yellow

have the UPS man on his daily delivery ask, “What are you doing in there, building a boat?”

have an app on your phone “excuses for running aground”

look forward to showering in a 2 X 2 ft. cubical

         love the sheen of sunscreen

        

Spent last night at North Myrtle Beach and motored sixty-four miles into Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina, today.  Planning a relaxing Mother’s Day at the beach tomorrow which is only a block away from the dinghy dock.

We awoke to a cooler Georgetown morning and a pleasant bike to the local hardware and grocery stores on Thursday.  Piggly Wiggly grocery shopping just isn’t quite the same as Harris Teeters in Charleston, but managed to find much of what we needed and is usually the case, met up with some friendly boaters who had also biked to the store.     

Later, wandering down the streets of Georgetown’s 40 historic downtown square blocks, we photographed sixty-three, two and three hundred year old homes, buildings and churches all beautifully preserved.  Mixed among those were many more hundred- year-old plus homes.  The combination of historic preservation, simple landscaping and beauty of the trees overhanging the quiet streets made it seem like we were walking back into a different century.  Each historic home had a placard indentifying its age, and/or a sign sharing its historical information.  We walked, and walked and walked, noticing the uniqueness of the chimneys, brick, porches, cornices, window panes wrinkled from age.  Quite obviously, this Georgetown is proud of its history and cares deeply about preserving and sharing it with others.  

Next door to the marina where we docked was Stormy Seas Seafood, where you can buy fresh shrimp, oysters, and fish.  I wandered in and bought some shrimp, talking with the grandmother who was running the retail shop while caring for her two young grandchildren.  She told me her husband and son had gone out in their boat at 4:00 am, and I noticed when they returned it was almost 7:00p.m.  She was still there too waiting to help with the catch.  That’s a fifteen hour day, not an easy life.  Don’t think I can ever eat shrimp again without thinking of these men and women who spend the day providing this delicacy for us.

This morning along the banks of the Cypress Swamp were baldheaded eagles high in the trees tending their young and turtles sunning on logs.  It was another peaceful fifty-five mile day.  Tonight we find ourselves in North Myrtle Beach at the Barefoot Marina.        

The Good the Bad and the Ugly

The judges gave us a perfect ten on our Megadock dismount yesterday morning, and we waved goodbye to charming Charleston and the Atlantic Cup sailors about 8:00a.m.  Yes, we are learning to get a little later start some days, which was good because unbeknownst to us our first bridge was closed between 7:00 and 9:00.  After making our way across the harbor past Fort Sumter and northward into the ICW, it was perfect timing, gliding under the Ben Sawyer Bridge behind two Benetaus at exactly 9:00 without having to wait for the next opening at 9:30.  Arriving five minutes later would have made us tread water in the currents for twenty-five.   Pure luck!

Wind in the northeast, we were able to roll out the main sail for a little boost to our motoring average 6.9 knots.  Tide was high helping us snake cleanly through what the captain thought would be some shallow areas.  As some of you know, the currents would be with us for a while giving yet another boost of a couple of knots, then against us, slowing us down some.  After fifty miles in seven hours we arrived at our anchorage Minim Creek.  Later two other sailboats joined us for a quiet evening swinging among the crab pots.

Now for the bad and ugly.  First bad, the South Carolina green flies (small horse flies) are more prolific than the Missouri mosquitoes or Punta Gorda Noseeums.  Picture this, Aurora has the main sail up with wind about 9-12 knots, heeling about 10 degrees, Dennis manning the helm through the shallow water with one hand on the wheel while wildly swatting one pesky fly after another with his other, yelling, "Dirty rotten xxx xx a xxxxxxx."  More bad, I am limping from a bruised hip acquired when I pushed the island of sludge off the anchor rode two mornings ago.  Big bad and ugly, Dennis, upon inspecting the engine noticed a big pile of salt collecting on the mixing elbow, obviously a crack in it somewhere.  (This is the part of the engine that uses water to cool the engine keeping it from getting overheated.)  Our anchorage here is so remote we have no internet or we could have started last night searching, calling, getting a jump on the repair before we get to Georgetown, eighteen miles away.  Waiting for the tide to go up, means leaving here at 8:00, putting our ETA there 11:00a.m.   Last, the very ugly, but not sooo bad, when we tried to take Fritz to shore there was only one muddy bank and he refused to do his business jumping politely back into the dinghy with inch-thick muddy paws. Yuck!  So he has been sitting cross-legged ever since anticipating his dry grassy Georgetown walk.  Again, what a patient dog!

Down, but not out.  Mama said there’d be days just like this! 

Found out this afternoon the worst wasn’t so bad after all, just a plastic fitting.  Once we arrived at the Hazzard Marina in Georgetown I went to work on the engine since the mechanic never called me back.  After scraping all the salt deposits away from the engine parts I found a plastic fitting on the vented loop for the engine exhaust was broken and causing all the salt deposits.  Of course I could not find the part in the area so I ordered one on-line and it should be here tomorrow.

The afternoon was very restful when the rains came.  This evening we had a nice walk downtown and dinner at a local establishment, Buzz’s Roost along the harborwalk.  Hopefully the rains will end tomorrow  and we will be able to explore Georgetown. 

         

Last night we knew it would be a short trip to Charleston so planned an early start without taking Fritz to shore.  So we secured the dingy up on the davit last night and were set to go this morning.  Up and ready to leave, we looked at the anchor rode and saw it had a huge sludge of reeds surrounding it. Hanging over the bow we tried loosening the pile with the boat hook, but no luck. The anchor rode was as tight as a drum and would not budge.  Our only solution was to get the dingy down and try to loosen it by hand.  It appeared the pile was about 2-3’ deep and 10’ in diameter.  After about ten minutes of pulling the mucky reeds apart with our hands, and pushing with our feet it finally gave way.  Another new experience to add to the cruising firsts.

We then had a pleasant trip up the ICW to Charleston, arrived here around 11:30 and tied up to the City Marina Mega Dock.  The dock is 1,530 feet long and they say this is the longest floating dock on the East coast that has complete fuel service the entire length of the dock.  Speaking of fuel we walked passed a yacht filling up and it was still filling at 1500 gallons (at $4.50/gal….).  I said something to a dock hand and he said they once filled a yacht that took 17,000 gallons!  Tucked in among the many yachts was a Hinkley, the sailing world’s answer to the Rolls Royce.  On Friday Charleston will host the starting lines of the Atlantic Cup featuring 40ft. monohulls with 2 person teams racing on the first let to New York City by late Monday.  Many of these sleek sailboats from all over the world are already docked here making last minute preparations and giving interviews to news media.  Their excitement is contagious.   

 As soon as we got the boat settled we headed in town on the marina’s free shuttle.  We had a great time stopping at the Old Slave Mart Museum (where domestic slaves were bought and sold), The Powder Magazine (oldest building in South Carolina), and enjoyed the beautiful old homes and how well they are kept up.  Our town trip ended with a stop at the grocery store where the free shuttle again gave us a ride back to the Megadock.  We are now sitting on the boat and for the first time since we left home watching TV as the marina has cable service. 

While much of Beaufort, South Carolina was still asleep we called for the Ladies Island Bridge tender just north of our anchorage for an opening.  You could hear southern in the tender’s almost unintelligible drawl, but his hospitality was clear as a bell thanking us for coming to Beaufort. 

Flooding current and high tides helped us quickly get through some tricky spots on the  Coosaw, Ashepoo, South Edisto and Dawho Rivers along the ICW towards Charleston.  There were even some wide spots and wind for a bit of sailing.  When the current and tides began to ebb we made the decision to save Charleston for tomorrow.  Making good time put us past where we had intended to anchor, so we again took a look at where to spend the night, finally deciding on Steamboat Creek after reading the positive reviews and a good dock to take the dog ashore.  Two words describe this little tributary, absolute serenity.  Some say this was originally a plantation, and as we walked under the cool shade of huge live oak trees, with moss draped to the ground it was easy to imagine the activity of plantation life.  We have thoroughly enjoyed this detour away from the hurried activity of sightseeing. 

Ladies, you will love this just-like-home scenario.  This evening after eating Dennis needed ice for his drink so instead of drying the dishes, which were draining right where he needed to open the freezer, he restacked all the dishes to the side, then proceeded to get his ice.  To his credit though, he had washed the dishes. After wiping down the cockpit from the brief shower we’d had just minutes before, was finally able to sit sip his Denny Crane and smoke his cigar. After watching a dolphin at sunset come right up by the boat he commented and I agreed, ”It just doesn’t get any better than this.”

Ending our evening with Dennis drying the dishesJ and listening to the Family Radio hymn sing.

Once the diver cleaned the cruds off the bottom and many our boat chores were finished on Friday morning we took a short bus ride into town.  Savannah, home to the cotton gin’s inventor, Ely Whitney, Juliette Gordon Low, founder of 100 year-old Girl Scouts, TV chef, Paula Deen, the filming of several well-known movies, “Forrest Gump,”  “Cape Fear” and “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil”   

James Oglethorpe established Georgia as the 13^th colony, Savannah as the first city.  His unique design for the city, originally twenty-four parks, now twenty-two serene green havens under towering live oaks draped with Spanish moss, twenty-two mini Central Parks within a 2.2 mile square area.  As you walk along, you know in a block or two you will come to an oasis in the concrete jungle.  It being 90 degrees, we made use of everyone we came upon to read about its namesake, and savor any fountain or forefather under its lush canopy.  I do not have adequate words to describe the homes.  You must indeed walk among them yourself to live and appreciate their amazing historic past and their present graceful beauty.

Along the river walk a variety of vessels, in town for the Tall Ship’s Challenge, blocked our view of the Waving Girl statue and the riverfront, but not the delightful food fare found along the cobbled street.  I guess the nice thing about not getting to see something is having an excuse to return and take it in later. 

Today we left Georgia, tried to stop at Hilton Head, but confusing charts and misinformation from some source, I won’t say who, took us too far past Broad Creek, and on into Beaufort, South Carolina, not to be confused with Beauford, North Carolina.  We think there is something called “Taste of Beaufort” going on in town, but it’s so hot, we’ve decided to hang out here for a while before dinghying over to check it out.

To the many of you who keep checking up on us, thanks.  We appreciate you following along.  Send us an email at shirlaanddennis@yahoo.com if it’s easier than commenting on this website.  And as Forrest Gump says, “That’s all I have to say about that.”  Take care and fair winds,  Dennis and Shirla.

The evening trip for Fritz to the abandoned cabin across the little channel was uneventful.  But as we started across the channel first thing this morning Dennis does a 90 degree dinghy turn and whispers “there’s a guy on the dock.”  Fritz had to settle for a shell bank down river.

Doboy Channel presented a new challenge, almost a crisis.  It was our typical ride with the current going out and the wind coming in.  The breeze was so good we put up both sails.  The captain then decided we don’t need “no stinking motor” and shuts it down.  Unfortunately, the wind was more on the nose and not enough to keep us going against the waves.  So the captain turns the key to start the engine, NOTHING HAPPENS!  Now what?  Waves are pushing us towards the shoals with frothing water, the boat speed in the water is slowed to, ah, zero. 

“There is no battery,” says the admiral. 

“There is nothing wrong with the batteries,” shouts the captain. 

“Let’s start the generator,” says the admiral. 

“It won’t do any good,” shouts the captain, “but okay, try it.” 

Generator starts but it does not help, still nothing happens when the key is turned.  Well, after almost tacking in the channel because we were getting close to the frothing water Dennis was able to slowly coach the boat to the deeper water.  Shirla then took the helm while Dennis went below to trouble shoot the problem.  Meanwhile down below Dennis finds the wire that has come off the starter solenoid but before he can fix it Shirla yells, “Help, I don’t know what to do, we are headed for a shrimp boat!”  The captain temporary attaches the wire, jumps up to the cockpit and starts the engine, crisis avoided.

The rest of the day was very calm as we motored slowly to catch the current and tide going into Wassaw Sound, GA.  We did have a challenge finding the buoys to the Wassaw Channel but a call to Boat US was helpful and we eventually found our way in.  The anchorage we were going to stay at did not appeal to us so we motored into Thunderhead Marina and plan to spend two nights here as we explore Savannah.  A diver is scheduled to clean the boat bottom tomorrow morning.      

Couldn’t talk Captain into trying to find the wild horses on Cumberlin Island north of our Fernandina Beach mooring.  Instead, we were off to chase horses of a different variety.  We both agreed Captain is a “sailor” not a “sight-seer.”  So we left my new favorite, Fernandina Beach on Amelia Island.  Sorry Saint Augustine, love your history, but your climate is more like bustling Branson, MO. 

It was a little rough exiting through the St. Mary’s, FL channel, with ebbing tide and an eight knot easterly.  Winds and skies were fair and we sailed into Doboy Sound, Georgia at 3:00p.m. anchoring all alone along the Back River and two rundown cabins.  Nice feeling, isolated, but not lonely.  Fritz explored the cabin property on his trip to the shore, and we retired soon after when the green flies came calling. 

 

A Morning in the Life of the Sailing Cesaris

Who:  Captain Cesari, First Mate/Admiral, and Fritz, adorned with life jackets,

sailing gloves, sunscreen, binoculars and sunglasses

Where:  Saint Augustine, Florida

When:  May 1, 2012   6:50a.m. EST

                            

Scene 1-Leaving the Mooring field and clearing the Lions Bridge

(Captain starts the engine, First Mate drops the mooring ball from the line on the bow of the boat.  They slowly make their way past the other boats moored in the field.)

Captain—Lions Bridge tender, Lions Bridge tender, Lions Bridge tender, this is

sailing vessel Aurora.

Tender—This is Lions Bridge tender.

Captain—This is northbound sailing vessel Aurora requesting a bridge opening.

Tender—Hold your position in the channel, we will be opening shortly.

Captain—Thank you bridge tender.  Aurora, standing by on channel 09.

(From the bridge five consecutive horn blasts sound.  Within a few minutes the center section of the Basquel bridge splits apart and ascends skyward.  Aurora and two other vessels slip cautiously through the opened bridge one at a time.  Once again five blasts send the warning and the bridge sections descend into their horizontal positions allowing cars to be on their way.)

Captain—This is Aurora, thank you Bridge tender.

Tender—You’re welcome Aurora, and have a good day.

Scene 2-Clearning the Saint Augustine Channel

Captain –Marina staff said, “Stay towards the red markers going out.”

Admiral – I’ll get the charts to help.

Captain – Don’t bother, they don’t show markers on the chart as the channel is

always shifting.

Captain –Look for the next marker, it is difficult to see them in these seas [ebbing tide

(going out) and an easterly wind coming in causing some 6’ plus waves in the channel]

Captain – We finally made it out, let’s put the sails up!

Scene 3-Putting Up the Sails

(As the first mate takes the helm and turns Aurora into the wind the captain uses 3 lines to pull the main sail out of the mast.  It catches the wind, fills and flies.  He then securely wraps the outhaul line around the winch to tighten the mainsail foot.  Next, the captain loosens the genoa (front sail, also called the genny) furler line, and pulls the downwind genoa sheet unfurling the sail. It also catches and flies.  His final job is to secure the sheet around the winch and adjust the sail to the wind.  Time 7:30)

First Mate—Now that was easyJ

Captain—(He gives her a look.)  Now for coffee and breakfast!

The End

Traveling over fifty-two miles today and navigating St. Mary’s Inlet on the Florida/Georgia border we took another couple’s advice and turned southward to visit the quaint little town of St. Fernandina Beach on Amelia Island.  The proud volunteer at the welcoming center sweetly thanked us for coming and sent us off on a walking tour of his historic hometown.  Knowing we only had a couple of hours he commented, “Maybe you need to come back again when you have more time.”   Right off it was hard not to notice the striking contrast of the quiet peaceful tree-lined streets to Saint Augustine’s touristy atmosphere.  No one seemed to be in a hurry to go anywhere or too busy to stop and chat for a moment.  There was hardly any traffic anywhere.  Many of the buildings are a hundred and fifty years old, and still have shops or restaurants open for business in them.  It was refreshing.  After getting a small taste of the history and peacefulness here, we agree with the sweet volunteer, we’ll come again to this quaint little town.