This morning we departed the Dismal Swamp Visitor's Center at 0650, after feeding and walking the dogs. The trip through the Dismal Swamp was overshadowed by a cool, misty rain, interspersed with a foggy sort of haze.
For a few miles the highway runs beside the canal, near enough you can hear and see traffic, but, then, once again you journey away from civilization and into its medieval depths, where your imagine is drawn into the far realms of where your vision can reach.
OK, it helped that it was rainy, and hazy. But, I love the Dismal Swamp! Don't bother coming this route if you are in a hurry, the whole route is a no wake zone, to keep from undercutting the banks that barely support some of the huge trees whose roots are badly undercut. Remember, that with trees constantly losing their grip, there are branches and logs that you may bump in the course of your transit, another good reason to pay attention, and keep your speed down.
The USCOE guys that maintain this canal have a great sense of humor, posting official looking signs like this (and others that surely wake up the armchair navigator) as evidenced in some of the less remote areas.
At 0925 we pulled alongside our friends on the S/V Moonstone of Aberdour, tied to the bulkhead along the town of Deep Creek. The Canadian trawler TNT Kiss was right behind us. The bulkhead afforded the opportunity for the Moonstone crew to visit the local Food Lion, while I scurried across the street in the rain to get a breakfast sausage biscuit for me, and one for the bridge/lock tender.
We went through the bridge, and into the lock, dropping down the 8' we'd gained yesterday. The lock tender, Robert, played a tune on my conch (I'm going to have to try that) rather than just the long conch tone I often blow at sunset. Robert is a wealth of information on ICW, Norfolk, and the Dismal Swamp, as well as a real nice guy!
When we left Deep Creek, and left our alternate route, joining back with the ICW at the Southern Branch of the Elizabeth River, approaching Norfolk, it was like we were being rapidly hurled forward in time. There were conveyors, and shipyards, some still looking like WWII, and more and more modern as we entered into Norfolk. There are boats and ships of every type and shape here, all converging on the waterway and bridges, keeping the helmsman on their toes.
Tomorrow begins Norfolk's annual Harborfest. There are tall ships and other vessels planning to enter in a parade of sorts around noon. We chose an anchorage at Hospital Point, mm 0 (no kidding), and ground zero for the Harborfest. If it had not been such inclement weather, I doubt we could have found the anchorage as sparsely populated as it was. More vessels joined us throughout the day, ready for tomorrow's kick-off.
I saw a couple of ducks that I called over with a quack-quack, much to the delight of Mocha. Mercy wasn't nearly as interested in the ducks as the crackers I was tossing their way. Hey, I figured ducks ought to eat little fish, and I had goldfish crackers....
I gave up on having a fair weather opportunity, and launched the RIB to explore in the rain. Ellen and Mercy stared at me like I was crazy, and I, bundled in a rain jacket and rain pants told a heart-broken Mocha that she couldn't come. I think she even laughed at me when I came back an hour later with my hair dripping wet. The ducks welcomed me back while the rain ran off them like, uh, water off a duck's back. (You had to see that coming...)
The weatherman on tv lost me talking about rain, and fog, and sunshine. I think we're due for some of those tomorrow.
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