In Charleston we met James and Sandra Little from Kingsport on their boat Ragtime.

This alligator cruising down the waterway is wearing some reeds on his nose, probably as a disguise. We were not fooled.

Spring is the nesting season for the ospreys. The nests are huge and sometimes can make it hard to see the markers along the waterway.

This is Bill with his Spanish mackerel. He caught it on that pink and white skirted lure.


Hello all. Bill and I are back at home in Kingsport.

We left Beaufort, SC June 5 headed for Charleston where our Kingsport friends James and Sandra little keep their sailboat. We hoped to meet them the next day and anchor together somewhere close to Charleston. Saturday was very hot; hot enough that the boat traffic was light even though it was the weekend. We left the ICW at the North Edisto River and anchored in Steamboat Creek. No sooner was the anchor down than we were both cooling off in the water.

We talked to the Littles by cell phone, and we both agreed to head for Dewees Creek. We passed through the Wappoo Creek bascule bridge, entered the Ashley River, and found the Littles in their boat, Ragtime. We motor-sailed together across Charleston Harbor. Just after we pasted Fort Sumter, we had a BIG PANIC. Our oil pressure gauge fell to zero… very scary for people whose engine burns large amounts of oil. Our heart rates returned to normal when Bill found that something had hit the engine controls circuit breaker turning all the gauges off. The fix was easy; flip the breaker back on. We left the harbor, motored down the ICW stretch behind Sullivan’s Island and the Isle of Palms, and anchored in Dewees Creek. Bill and I dinghied over to Ragtime for a drink or two and then ferried the Littles back to Irish eyes for dinner. We had fun catching up with the Littles. Monday morning Bill and I raised the anchor and continued north.

The stretch of the ICW between Charleston and Myrtle Beach is full of birds and alligators. I spotted at least 10 alligators. If you know what to look for they are easy to spot. Sometimes the alligators look like a log floating in the water, but if you look at them with binoculars you can see their eyes, and logs don’t have eyes. I didn’t go swimming. We anchored in the North Santee River on Monday night. It was a very pretty spot among the acres and acres of green marsh grass dotted with the occasional darker green tree or bush.

Tuesday we continued motoring north in the ICW passing Georgetown around noon. In the evening we anchored in Cow Pen Creek, a side water of the Waccamaw River. The water was fresh there. Cow Pen Creek had lily pads, flowers, and basking turtles along its edges. It was all much different from the salt water areas where we had been for the last five months. A motor boat came into the creek and anchored nearby. The captain, who only had his cat for crew, rowed over in his dinghy to chat with us. After he left, Bill went for a swim in the warm fresh water. Later when the sun was going down, I noticed a large log in the water which had not been there before. Its eyes appeared, and it swam from one side of the creek to the other crossing right behind the boat where Bill had been swimming. I think that was the biggest of all the gators I saw.

We headed to Little River planning to tie up in the Coquina Yacht Club for two days expecting to visit with my sister Elaine, brother-in-law JP, aunt Mary Ellen, and uncle Ken.

The ICW between the Waccamaw and Little Rivers is in a dug canal; a ditch lined with houses, condos, golf courses, and businesses. Only here and there is a spot of natural green. Just south of Little River is a stretch called the Rock Pile. The waterway was blasted through limestone ledges and there are rocks just below the surface of the dark brown water. The guidebooks are full of warnings, and we have heard tales of boats grounding on the rocks and suffering serious damage. Half way through this section our engine overheated. The alarm was very loud and contributed to our panic. Bill looked at the engine and found the pulley on the engine fresh water pump had cracked in two and the vee belt had fallen off. We quickly unfurled our jib sail so we could continue moving, but most importantly, so we could steer the boat. There was nothing we could do but shut down the engine and call TowBoatUS as we glided along under sail past the North Myrtle Beach Sewer Plant. The towboat arrived in twenty minutes. He tied up along our port side and brought us safely through both the last of the Rock Pile and the Little River Swing Bridge before depositing us gently against the tee dock at the Coquina Yacht Club. He (and a Visa card) changed what promised to be a nerve wracking ordeal into a pleasant (well, almost pleasant) experience. Bill looked at the water pump while I took a shower. He found that the pulley was pretty well shot. The middle of the pressed steel pulley had cracked away transforming the four evenly spaced nice round holes into a silhouette of Mickey Mouse. The pulley was trash. Thankfully, while the local Yanmar Diesel dealer did not have a replacement pulley, he was able to have one shipped to him from a dealer in Chicago (where it was not yet 5 o’clock) by overnight UPS. We left the boat and had a nice dinner that evening with my family.

The parts man called at 9:30am the next morning and said our pulley had been delivered. JP took Bill to get the part, and Bill had it installed shortly after lunchtime. Bill wasn’t sure if the pulley was the only thing wrong with the water pump but, yippee, it was all that was wrong. We had a second delightful dinner with Elaine and JP that night.

Bill and I left Little River early Friday morning. We decided to sail out the Little River Inlet into the Atlantic and come back into the ICW at the Cape Fear River missing the shallow spots in the ICW at Shallotte and Lockwoods Folly. This ocean trip was very tame. Although we were five or six miles offshore, we could see the buildings on Sunset Beach, Holden Beach and Oak Island on the horizon. The wind was light and seas were calm making it a smooth trip. Off Oak Island we caught a 3-1/2 lb, 26” Spanish mackerel which became supper for the next several days. We motored up the Cape Fear River and through Snows Cut to Carolina Beach where we were anchored by supper time. The mackerel went on the grill.

The next day promised to be unpleasant. It was Saturday, the weekend, and we were near Wrightsville Beach, the boat capital of North Carolina. The ICW between Carolina Beach and Atlantic Beach is narrow and in places shallow. For the next two days it would be filled to overflowing with kayaks, motorboats, fishing boats, sailboats, water skiers, innertubers, and swimmers. In spite of my natural reluctance to get up early in the morning or to sail at night, we decided to start early the next day to pass the shallow spot near Carolina Beach Inlet at high tide, continue on to Wrightsville Beach, anchor there until the afternoon, then head out into the Atlantic for an overnight run to Beaufort, NC (bow-fort) expecting to arrive there just after sunrise.

We were up and underway from Carolina Beach before 7am. Although the sun had just come up, it was already hot and lots of folks were on ICW. Both of us were glad we were going out in the Atlantic where it would be cooler and where we would avoid all the ICW traffic. Not wanting to arrive in Beaufort before sunrise, we lazed around at anchor in Wrightsville Beach until 2, then we motored out the Masonboro Inlet, raised our sails, and headed to Beaufort.

When we started off, the wind was light coming from behind us and the sea was dead calm. As the afternoon wore on, the wind increased and the sea rose. At suppertime I looked at the stove swinging back and forth in the galley and got instantly queasy. Bill the captain became Bill the cook. He made fried potato pancakes filled with bacon, onions, and some of the mackerel we had caught off Oak Island. The pancakes were really pretty good. With the sticky rubber placemats on the table the plates, salad bowls, and glasses did not slide around as the boat rolled. But, if I set my fork down on my plate, it would instantly launch itself across the cabin. As the sun was setting a pod of spotted dolphins swam along beside us. They were really showing off, jumping completely out of the water and doing little twists in the air. It was better than SeaWorld. While I was well fed and entertained, I still was not happy. The boat motion was unpleasant, and I could not sleep when I was off watch. As Bill will tell you I am not much of a shift worker. I get kind of cranky at night, and I do not like the boat rolling, so I must admit I was not the best travelling companion that evening.

We made good time, arrived early, and were going through the Beaufort inlet in the twilight an hour before dawn. The wind died, and we took down the sails as we passed through the Morehead City ship turning basin. We motored through the Newport River, Core Creek, Adams Creek and the Neuse River. Northwest Creek Marina was calling us home. Bud Ellis, the dockmaster, helped us tie Irish Eyes in her slip at 1:30pm. The first thing we did was to retrieve the air conditioner from the trunk of my car and hook it up. It was heaven; cool air, a stationary boat, and a nap.

We spent the next two days moving stuff from the car to the boat and from the boat to the car. We tidied up the boat and packed our clothes. Bill had to replace the battery in my car and to talk with two mechanics about rebuilding or replacing the boat’s engine. We got to use real flush toilets, and we took long hot showers with lots of water. We soaked up the air conditioning in the marina and ate ice cream from the marina store.

It was time to go home. The road trip was a little scary at first; cars go faster than sailboats and there are more cars on the road than boats in the water. We made it home without any problems, but there were problems awaiting us there. One of our 30 year old heat pumps would not cool, and while now repaired, we were told that it and its twin need to be replaced. Bill’s car had a dead battery and the back window motor on our old Blazer burned up the first time Bill drove it. Oh well, I guess you have to expect some problems when you’ve been gone over 5 months.

The 2010 trip was wonderful. The scenery was spectacular and the friends we made even better. We don’t know what we will do next year. We will both turn 60…

 

The rainbow in Marsh Harbour was complete, but my camera did not have a wide enough lens to include it all, so here is one end. By May the rainy season had started. Every day there was a chance of an afternoon shower.

These are the shells I picked up on the beaches at Great Guana amd Spoil Cays. I’m only picking up the ones I really like.

We sailed around the ocean side of Whale Cay. These are the waves breaking on the north end of the island. For scale the top of the light tower is 8 meters (about 26 feet) above the water. …and it was a calm day.

Back in the USA. Actually, I’m looking out across the mashes and the Beaufort River from Port Royal, SC. The white dot in the center is an egret wading in the marsh. It is not a thing like the Bahamas.


Greetings to one and all from Beaufort, South Carolina

Yes, we made it back to the US, and yes, we have been moving rapidly north.

We left our Lynard Cay anchorage on May 21 and headed north to Marsh Harbor. Bill needed to find the cause of our overheating engine, and I needed to buy a few groceries. Marsh Harbor is the hub of the Abacos: the biggest town on the island. It even has a stoplight! How is that for big? Bill took apart the engine cooling water system; the raw water strainer, engine driven pump, and heat exchanger. There was a small plastic barcode label stuck in the inlet to the engine heat exchanger. Other than that he found nothing. But, the engine exhaust still seemed hot, and there just was not the usual amount of water coming out with the exhaust. Bill didn’t know what else to do, and I certainly didn’t. While he was working on the cooling water, the regulator on the alternator stopped working. Another downer. We needed a change of pace. Since it was Saturday, we went to the Jib Room for a drink (or two), their steak night special, and the Rake and Scrape music show.

The steak was good and the music show was, well, ok. The same guy who was there two years ago was there again doing the limbo. He was something to see (once). His head actually dragged on the ground as he went under the bar. We did enjoy talking to several new couples we met. Our night out helped us forget all the mechanical troubles.

Bill spent most of Sunday working on the regulator. He came up with an ingenious way to make the alternator work without the regulator by hooking up some light bulbs in one of the wires. I had the completely *untechnical* thought that perhaps while working on the cooling system he may have knocked something loose or splashed a little water on the regulator or some such thing. Bill took my suggestion quite well and cleaned and tightened several electrical connections the last of which got the thing working again. He put his light bulbs away.

In Marsh Harbor there is a cruiser’s net every morning on the VHF radio. The weather forecast is read, businesses tell what is going on, and cruisers introduce themselves and ask questions. On Monday a plea for help was broadcast. Someone had poured used motor oil on the ground behind the dumpster at the local seafood store, and the owner suspected it was a boater. Bill and I went over and helped clean it up. It really wasn’t that big a mess and we enjoyed working with the other boaters. Bill went to the Buck-a-Book store and came back with three books and two conch salads. Buck-a-Book sells donated books for a dollar apiece raising money to care for the wild horses on the island. The conch salads came from the local conch salad man, Steamboat, who sells his wares from a brightly painted street-side stand. He is a colorful local fellow who is always featured in any article or travel documentary on Abaco. We left Marsh Harbor after lunch and headed to Baker’s Bay on Great Guana Cay. When we arrived, the conch salad made for a great supper.

The Baker’s Bay Resort has really changed the looks of the northern end of Great Guana Cay. They have built a nine hole golf course, condominiums, and a marina for mega yachts. The beach is still pretty, so next morning we walked its length. I found several nice shells. Trying to be picky this year, I am not keeping everything I see this time. After lunch we made a long dinghy trip to a little island called Spoil Cay. It sits just inside the Whale Cay cut and is covered with shells that wash in from the ocean. Bill and I walked completely around the little island. Bill knocked a coconut down from a tree and opened it when we got back to the boat. We drank the juice, and he diced the meat. I made chicken curry with coconut that evening for dinner.

To go farther north you have to go around the ocean side of Whale Cay. The cuts that take you out into the ocean and back again can be very rough at times. Wednesday morning seemed like a good day to go out around Whale Cay. We left early and had a fairly smooth trip. Listening to the radio it was apparent that both cuts got worse after we passed through. We anchored off Settlement Harbor at Green Turtle Cay. It rained that afternoon, and the wind picked up from the west making it a rough whitecap filled unprotected anchorage. The downwind dinghy trip to town would have been fairly dry, but the upwind (and upwave) return would have been like taking a swim. We decided to wait till the next morning before venturing to the Settlement.

Green Turtle Settlement is a very neat and attractive town. Most of the buildings are well painted and the gardens well tended. We walked around town and went to the local museum. We had a personal tour led by the elderly museum caretaker. She was a Green Turtle Cay native and had graduated from Lee College in Cleveland, Tennessee of all places. She was very proud of Green Turtle Cay. The dinghy trip back to Irish Eyes was, as we expected, very wet.

It was Thursday, and the weather forecast was for winds to switch to the south in a couple of days and the seas to be less than 3 feet in the ocean. It was time to head back to the US. We took the motor off the dinghy, deflated the dinghy, and brought them both on board. With the west wind, it was still windy and rough in the anchorage. We figured if we got to the other side of the Sea of Abaco in the lee of Great Abaco Island it would be calmer. This sounds like a long way to go, but we could see Great Abaco Island from Green Turtle Cay. We were right; it was not nearly as rough on the other side. We motor sailed north along the coast to Hog Cay anchoring in its lee for the night. It was a lot calmer there. Bill again took apart the strainer for the engine cooling water, but this time with a flashlight he found the white mud and sand that was clogging the strainer’s inlet hose. After cleaning the mess out of the hose, the amount of cooling water coming out with the exhaust was back to normal and the engine temperature dropped 30 degrees. Finally that problem was behind us.

Friday morning we were underway by 8am. The wind was perfect for sailing. We put up all three sails and headed east across the Little Bahama Bank toward Florida. We sailed until sunset then turned the motor on to motor sail through the night. The moon was full, so we had plenty of light. As we were crossing the Gulf Stream, a thunderstorm to the south caused us some worry because it had lots of lightning in it, but it never caught us. We saw several ships and a couple of sport fishing boats headed in various directions, but none came near. The most interesting ship had “Dockside Yacht Transport” written on its side. It was headed north in the Gulf Stream filled with at least 25 large boats. That looks like the best way to go back home. Maybe next time…

At 5:30am we took down all the sails as the wind died. At this point it was either motor on to Port Canaveral or turn slightly north and head for St. Augustine. That sounds fairly simple, but the trip to St. Augustine is another day and night of travel. Bill convinced me it was a good thing to keep going. He was right. It was Memorial Day weekend, and Port Canaveral would be a zoo filled with naval ships, cruise ships, jet skis, spot fishing boats, and joy riders. As the day wore on the waves increased and the rocking back and forth became truly annoying. We sailed some and motored some. While sailing we had a pod of spotted dolphins stay with us for almost an hour. We saw a 3 foot long turtle swimming along. Then, when the sun set, everything became just dark and boring. The thunder showers stayed over the land, so we got to see the fireworks but didn’t even have to deal with them ourselves.

Sunday morning found us within sight of the St. Augustine lighthouse and the beach. Bill called the US Customs and Immigrations’ 800 number and gave them our Florida Frequent Boater Card numbers. We were cleared over the phone and didn’t have to appear in person. Thanks goodness. We were under the Bridge of Lions and anchored by 10am. It had been a long 3 days.

We rested all day Sunday not even putting the dinghy in the water until Monday, Memorial Day. Bill went to the St Augustine municipal marina and paid for dinghy dockage which allowed us to use their facilities. Our last unlimited hot water showers were in March. I stayed in the shower for 30 minutes and scrubbed off half my tan. We spent the rest of the day walking around St. Augustine like the rest of the tourists and ending our day with a restaurant meal. By the time we got back on board Irish Eyes, we were ready for bed. It was 8pm. Like I said, it was a long 3 days getting back to Florida. Even after a day and a half, I had not recovered.

Tuesday I did our laundry at the marina while Bill went shopping. Of course that meant walking to the West Marine store and the local used boat stuff store, Sailors Exchange. Among his “finds” was a slightly used but much larger rod and reel. Maybe it will help our fishing. Ever helpful, he also picked up diet cokes, beer, and snack food… his steady diet.

Wednesday, when we began to raise our anchor, someone else’s anchor with 25 feet of chain and lots of nylon rope came up with ours. I did a quick look around to be sure we had not hooked out the anchor of any of the nearby anchored boats, but no, it was just junk lying around on the bottom. Bill had me lift it and its bit of bottom ecology onto the deck with the staysail halyard, and we took the creature covered mess to the marina for them to put in their dumpster. The Bridge of Lions opened for us, and we left St. Augustine through the inlet and headed north under sail in the ocean.

Bill’s original plan was to sail until we got tired of it and duck into say Jacksonville, Fernandina Beach, or Cumberland Island for the night. That did not happen. In the spirit of “Always a Distant Horizon” we kept going through the afternoon and the night and the next day. Once again we were treated to thunderstorm fireworks, but we never got the wind and rain, just the show. We entered South Carolina north of Hilton Head Island at Port Royal Sound having missed Georgia entirely. We could have gone on to Beaufort (Bew-Fort) but chose to stop in Port Royal instead. We have never stopped there before, but more importantly had we gone onto Beaufort we would have been late for our 5 o’clock G&T time.

Today we inflated the dinghy, went over to a restaurant dock in Port Royal, and took a walking tour of the town. We came back to the boat with a pound of shrimp bought from the local shrimpers, then motored over to Beaufort and anchored off the town. In Beaufort I bought two more tee shirt dresses (I’m wearing the things out.) while Bill looked at used books.

We are now slowly heading back to New Bern expecting to be there by June 15. I can’t believe it is time to go home! Hope to see you soon.