Boothbay Harbor to Seal Harbor, ME

Friday, 24 July 2015

Today our trip almost overwhelmed my sensory absorption capabilities.  The scenery was spectacular!  I can not put into words how beautiful this place is, and the photographs just can not convey the thrill that I get looking at the view.  

We took on a little fuel in Boothbay, where the fuel is expensive, choosing to top off later on.  We were done fueling and walking the dogs a little sooner than we anticipated, which put us slightly ahead of the rest of the Nordic Tugs.  That is fine with me, since I run a little slower, and was sure the others probably wouldn't have plotted in the same route I had to Seal Harbor... so many islands, so many choices to run!

I heard the other tugs on the radio, when the group spotted whales (which we missed) and I called them to see puffins, which stay in one place!  The puffins evidently nest around Eastern Egg Rock Island.  Three of the tugs ran up our way, and I held my breath, hoping they would all see some of these rare (to us) birds.

The group split again as we took the circuitous short-cut through the lobster float gauntlet, managing to miss them all, but, a few were close calls.  We passed the town of Port Clyde, a spot we will have to come back to!

About the time we emerged from under Mosquito Island, we were in front of four of the tugs that had chosen to come up Muscle Ridge Channel.  We cruise a little slower than most folks choose to, so we asked them to come around.  They all chose not to, since we were still in a gauntlet of lobster floats, so we increased rpms a little.

We saw ENCORE at a distance, and I suppose she waited for us in Seal Cove as we came through the Fox Islands Thoroughfare, because somehow she ended up falling in behind us.

We circled around towards the back of Seal Harbor where four of us anchored, and one boat chose to not come quite as far inside to anchor.

We saw a small seal surface with a fish, and sea gulls diving, hoping for an opportunistic meal.  The seal went under a few times, avoiding the aerial attack, and resurfacing to struggle with a fish that just didn't want to be swallowed.  It appeared the seal eventually won.

Kim, from the MARNICK, and I, and the two dogs, ventured out in the dinghy, but, didn't get far before the rain chased us back to the bigger boats.

I need some help from my birder blog readers... Scott, Lila, Debbie, this means YOU!  Please identify this bird.  They are very common up here, about the same size as the puffins, forage underwater, and are everywhere.  I just don't know what they are.   OK, got answer:  Black Guillemot.

I really need some of my birder friends with me.  There are LOTS of birds I can't identify.  Thankfully, there are still a few I can!  I saw PUFFINS!  Wish all my friends could be here!

The Dismal Swamp to Norfolk, VA

Thursday, 4 June 2015

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.

The Dismal Swamp

JWednesday, 3 June 2015

Aside from the few days we've remained docked or anchored, today was our shortest mileage day, at under 5 miles.  We locked through the South Mills lock at 0830, the earliest lock of the day, and were raised 8 feet into the fresh waters of the Dismal Swamp. 

The small town of South Mills looks like a great place to explore, which we would have done the night before, had we been able to make the 1530 and final lock of the day.  There is a place you can tie off between the lock and the bridge.  Next time...

The lock operators double as bridge operators, and after they lock you through, drive over and open the bridge for you.

From there, it was only a few miles to the visitor center, where we arrived in misting rain, and tied alongside the dock.  By nightfall, there were five of us, including two vessels rafted outboard two of us at the dock.  Much of the day it was a Canadian trawler, a British sailboat, and us.   A good international place!

The gorgeous dock is along the back side of a highway rest area.  Although the combination sounds a little strange, the grounds are lovely, the traffic noise is hardly noticeable, and there are great places to walk.

Be sure to cross the floating pedestrian bridge to see the exhibits in the Visitor Center, and walk the 1/2 mile boardwalk through the swamp.  The floating bridge opens for vessels, and remains open at night.

There is also a paved road to the south, on the visitor center side, that is for hiking/biking, with no vehicular traffic.  It is a great place to walk to stay clear of the ticks, in a beautiful place.

We spent the day alongside the visitor center dock, planning to leave in the morning to make the 1100 lock to the north.

Ellen's friend, Doug, drove from Virginia Beach to spend the evening with us, and it was nice for me to meet him, and for he and Ellen to catch up.

St. Johns Yacht Harbor to South Santee River, SC

Saturday, 23 May 2015

We left SJYH in the morning after we'd pumped out, timing our departure to give us ample tide in a shallow spot on the other side of Charleston Harbor. 

Somehow, Memorial Day sort of snuck up on me this year.  It just seems like it ought to always fall on the 30th.  Does this date me?  (It was the 30th until 1968!)  It did not however sneak up on thousands of boaters in the Charleston area, who hit the waters in force on Saturday, for the Memorial Day holiday kick-off.

It was breezy and, by Keys standards, cold as we went back through Elliot Cut, and crossed Charleston Harbor.  We took photos of the historic district that we had walked through.

There appeared to be sailing races going on towards the big bridge, which kept us from taking a longer cruise further up the river.

 

We cruised by Fort Sumpter, the Confederate area fortress that is still maintained by the National Park Service.  It was choppy enough that there was a reasonable amount of boaters in the less protected waters.

Then we got back into the protected waters of the AICW.  Photos can not do it justice!  Pretty quickly, four bigger boats fell in line together.  A 75' sport fisherman, a 45' trawler, a 100' yacht, and us.  We all travelled at a similar no wake speed.  Then there were hundreds of smaller outboards, who idle much slower than us in idle zones, and zoom around us in between the no wake zones.  What a zoo!  The sport fisherman called back (on VHF) and said he couldn't take it, and he was turning around, which he did.  The trawler took an early anchorage, and the yacht went to a local beach hang-out.

We cruised down between Bull Island and Capers island, and in spite of the hundred or so boats around the beach, though we might anchor in a nearby creek, where a few fishermen were trying their luck.  I anchored once and pulled up oysters, and wasn't happy when I dropped the hook again, either.  There are three mooring balls in the main channel.  I don't know who they belong to, but, when I tried to grab one, the line was so heavy and overgrown with grass that I couldn't pick it up.  I  decided that this is a place that I want to return for sure!  But, I didn't want to anchor where drinking boaters would be passing me later in the day.

So we continued on northward, and the boats quickly thinned out.  The boaters changed from people in swimsuits and ice chests full of beer, to fishermen and pontoon boats, clad in folks in jackets.  We were regulating the temperature inside the boat by opening and closing doors and windows.  I had on long pants and a t-shirt, and Ellen was pulling a sweat shirt on and off.  

We also checked out Harbor River inlet, but the 17-18kts wind against the current would have made for a sloppy anchorage.  

These houses at McClellanville all had their flags out... American, South Carolina, Confederate, Citadel, USMC, and many more.

We decided to continue to the South Santee River, so we could go to Georgetown in the morning.  We found a nice anchorage, with a breeze, but little chop to the north N33 09.258' W079 21.123'  We grilled hot Cajun sausage with potato buns and onions.  So we had our Memorial Day picnic, too.

Steamboat Creek, SC

19 May 2015

Every boat needs a day when the boat can rest, and the crew can get caught up on a few things, and have some safety drills.

About 0600, the day began to lighten, and I felt sorry for Mocha, Ellen's chocolate lab, who is still not fully adjusted to the bathroom on the boat.  Mercy, my lab, is a fully accomplished deck eliminator, though always enjoys a romp ashore.

Note:  Our boat elimination process has been refined with time.  I had a platform built of a PVC board, with PVC tapered slats attached to the bottom, making a nice, gently sloped area to drain urine towards the scupper holes.  The PVC is covered with dri-deck, to keep things from slippping, and then a loose sheet of synthetic grass, that we cut to match the size of the PVC drainboard.  Mercy likes it pretty well, having known our previous attempts at making a "potty place."  (This is by far the best!)

Anyhow, I launched the RIB, and insisted to Ellen that she really did have time for coffee before we took the dogs to the nearby boatramp. Mocha was ecstatic, and even Mercy used a little zeal as they jumped into the boat, ready for a pre-breakfast romp.  I climbed in the RIB and started the motor and pulled the RIB alongside the swim platform for Ellen.

As Ellen stepped into the boat, trying to dodge one wiggling lab, who is all over the boat, and one who claims her space, and then refuses to move, somehow her feet pushed the RIB away from the MERCY, while she maintained a grasp of the ready hand-hold cleat on the larger vessel.  She did, eventually, let go of the MERCY, but not until her center of gravity was over the water, rather than either boat.  As she hit the fully inflated RIB on the way down, she sort of bounced into the water.  I grabbed the back of her shirt before she was fully submerged, and snatched her glasses off the top of her head, where they had gotten caught up in her hair.

I proudly announced that I had saved her glasses, but, I don't think she responded properly to that.  We tried to no avail to pull her into the RIB, and I flatly refused to tow her the 1/4 mile to the boat ramp.  (We were still tied to the MERCY, remember.)  Ellen experimented with several ways of climbing onto the swim platform before we used our planned, "man overboard recovery" mode, involving a french bowline and the davit we use to pick up the RIB.

No man overboard drill is really a good test unless you have a simultaneous dog-overboard drill.  I'm not sure exactly how it happened, as I was distracted with a bedraggled Ellen.  I did, however, hear some miscellaneous dog conversation, that I roughly interpreted after the fact.

I think the conversation went, 

Mocha: "O no, mom has fallen in the water, and I have to pee."  

Mercy: "Don't you dare pee in the little boat, my mom will be mad."  

Mocha:  "Too late!"

Mercy:  "EWWW!  Mom, Mocha peed in the little boat, let me out!"

Mocha:  "And I really need to take a dump!"

Mercy:  "Don't you dare, if mom doesn't beat you, I will!"

Mocha:  "But, I can't stand this excitement, I REALLY have to go!"

I wasn't looking, so I don't know if Mercy pushed her, or if Mocha jumped.

Mercy:  "Mom, Mocha fell in the water!"

Mocha, the lightest of all crew members was quickly snatched onto the swim platform and put into the cockpit, where she promptly dumped in the "potty place."  Being the good dog trainer, I told her what a good dog she was while Mercy was still barking to be released from the pee in the small boat, and Ellen was struggling to get out of the water. 

The point to take away from this:  have emergency plans.  We had talked previously about how to get Ellen out of the water, with the davit and a bowline.  As planned, I attached a line to the davit hook, with a french bowline attached to it, a loop to sit in, and one to put under the victim's arms.  It worked pretty well.  The hardest part was swinging the davit in, being careful not to put out a window with the laughing, struggling Ellen.  She probably didn't think that was the hardest part.  The water was warm, and all two-legged crew members remained calm.  The second thing I'll say, is these plans need to be practiced, though I can think of better times than 0615 in the morning to practice them.

Ellen took a shower, and when I looked again, she was dressed, ready to go back to bed.  I wonder if she'd gone back to sleep, if I could have told her the whole thing was a dream when she woke up.  No, Mercy would rat me out.

After the morning pre-breakfast dog romp, Mocha and I explored in the small boat, while Ellen and Mercy stayed on the larger vessel and probably plotted our demise.  We explored up Steamboat Creek, and down the North Edisto River towards the Atlantic.

We had another gorgeous day. 

New River, Daufuskie Island, SC to Station's Creek, SC

17 May 2015

We stayed on the hook, enjoying the morning until about 11:00 before picking up the hook, and sauntering on the general northward track, around Daufuskie Island, and dipping to the south a little in Calibogue Sound, between Daufuskie Island and Hilton Head, to see what kind of beaches we could spot.  The ones on Daufuskie looked like a lot of oyster shells, and the ones on Hilton Head looked full of people!  We weren't really close enough to give a great description of either.

We continued around Hilton Head, along with scores of other vessels, primarily local small boat, and out Skull Creek into Port Royal Sound.  

I hope this boat owner did this on purpose.

We proceeded east and entered Station Creek to anchor for the night N32 16.780' W080 37.803.  We entered on a -1.0' tide, and got took advantage of the low tide to launch the RIB and take the dogs to the exposed beach to the south at Bay Point.

The dogs loved the hard sand, and enjoyed the opportunity to play and romp.   I loved the fact the sand was hard, too.  Just in case anyone reading this decides to go to the sandy looking beach to the north, let me tell you, that when I checked that beach, I sank halfway to my knees in the sandy mud!

After a good romp on the beach, and an hour of incoming tide, we returned towards the boat with the RIB, passing the anchored MERCY, and exploring up the creek another half mile or so, before returning to the boat.

As the tide came in, it changed the vantage point of what we could see, including the wreck of a barge? to the southwest of us up in the marsh grass.  We can also see an  orange gazebo roof to the south.  It is funny the change of perspective that 9' of tides gives.

It is a nice anchorage, with the tides high or low, though the low does give a nice beach within a couple of miles.

Walburg Creek, GA to New River, SC

16 May 2015

It was really hard to leave this beautiful anchorage.  I kept watching for more otters... but didn't see any.  The two shrimp boats left early, evidently shrimping during the daylight hours.  The two trawlers also left before we did, heading northward up the ICW.

The tide was high in the morning, as it had been the night before.  As we cruised to the north end of the creek, I could see the sand beach wrapping around the northwestern tip of the island.  It looked like it would be a great place to play on the beach at a lower tide.  We probably should have waited.  I think this spot is far enough away from  the heavier populated areas that week-end warriors might not venture out.  But we headed towards Savannah anyhow.  I think all day long I wished we'd stayed at that pretty little anchorage!

Anyhow, we crossed St. Catherine's Sound, and headed up the Bear River, to the west of Ossabaw Island, and into the Florida Passage to Ossabaw Sound.  The ICW cuts through creeks and shoals and connects all these major waterways.  One of these cuts is called Hell Gate, and we passed through there into Green Island Sound and the Little Ogeechee River and the Vernon River.  There was a pontoon boat pulled up on the beach high and dry, and I hoped the three pasty white occupants had ample sunscreen and bugspray to last until at least 6pm, the time I estimated they would float again.

The Burnside River puts you idling past a gorgeous waterfront community, and the opening to the tiniest, famous Moon River, as in the song.  It isn't wider than a mile, though I've crossed it in style twice now in my life!  The Burnside also takes you past Pigeon Island, and then Long Island, with its boat ramp right before the bridge, with lots of locals playing around the water's edge, and scores of small boats being launched.  We continued idling past the Isle of Hope, with its abundance of docks, marinas, and larger boats.  

We no longer had to idle through the Skidaway River, until we turned into the Wilmington River, where much of the area is a no wake.  A marine patrol boat was tucked in behind the Sam Varnedog Bridge, slowing down errant boaters.  It was a new moon low tide, and lots of the mud under the docks was showing.  

We cut through the Elba Island Cut and crossed the Savannah River, entering South Carolina at Fields Cut.  There was a South Carolina marine patrol boat doing a safety check on a boat at the SW end of Daufuskie Island, and I marveled at the number of small boats that passed them, waking the duo, and slamming their boats together.  We slipped past the two at idle, and when the officers were done with the one boat, I was glad they skipped us to board another.

Daufuskie Island is where the award winning writer, Patrick Conroy, author of Prince of Tides and the Great Santini, spent a year teaching on the island in 1969.  He recounts that experience in The Water is Wide.

We anchored for the night in the New River, towards the SW side of Daufuskie Island, N32 06.879' W080 54.485.  We are in a wide, marsh grass lined river, far enough off the banks to keep some of least adventurous biting flies at bay.

Plum Orchard, Cumberland Island

10 May 2015

This morning we waited until low tide to exit our Cumberland Island anchorage.  We headed south to intercept the ICW at the St. Mary's River, and then continued in a northerly direction, being careful to change from red on right to green to stbd as we turned out of the river into the ICW.

Three sailboats were right in front of us, and we waited until we had all passed the south end of the Brickhill River to pass them.  

We turned into the Brickhill River from the north end (we had been told the southern end is shoaled at low tide) and proceeded to Plum Orchard, where we anchored slightly to the south.  We took the RIB into the floating dock, and walked to the mansion to be a part of the 1300 tour.  We learned that if you sign up at SeaCamp, you can ride a van shuttle to Plum Orchard, then on to the Settlement.  We had asked the NPS employees at SeaCamp several times, and they never told us about the shuttle, or where we could sign up.  We had asked about how to see Plum Orchard, and were given times, but no other information.  I can understand the private boaters' dismay over the NPS being partial to those arriving by concession boat. 

After going miles out of the way, to enter Brickhill River from the north, we arrived at Plum Orchard in time for the 1300 mansion tour.  A group from Greyfield arrived by truck to go through the mansion with us.  The tour was led by a wonderful VIP (Volunteer In Park) who was interested in the history and the presentation.  She didn't care that the Greyfield group didn't want to go through the basement, she sent them on their way, then her husband (another VIP) continued with a great tour for two!

The mansion and the grounds are beautiful.  It is hard for me to imagine an island with electricity and lights before electricity had come to the mainland.

After touring the mansion, we returned to the MERCY, hauled anchor, and proceeded up the Brickhill River, exploring the entrance of Mumford Creek, and continuing northward to anchor in a wide spot of Brickhill River, where we could hide from as many horseflies as possible in the light breeze.  We anchored in 17' at high tide at N30 553.332' W 081 27.102'

 Tours are on the hour, 9-11 and 12-4 Thurs-Mon