Intracoastal Waterway - Day 13

Day 13 - 54 nm to go It was a boisterous, no-sleep night. The wind howled to 30+ knot winds from the southwest. The anchor alarm sounded about 12:30 am; we were dragging. We were up on deck in a flash. The anchor had evidently broken free and we were traveling at about .5 knot towards the channel. We had plenty of room and water all around us, but still it was disconcerting to know that our big, hefty 80# Manson Boss anchor and 100' of chain couldn't keep us in place in 12' of water. We re-anchored and set the hook once again, but what little sleep we got the rest of the night was fitful at best.

The morning dawned sunny, but it was still blustery with 25 knot winds whipping up white caps. We wended our way through the Abermarle Sound-Great Bridge Canal. It was a circuitous route, but deep (15-20') in most parts. Some areas shoaled and we kept one eye on the chart plotter, one on the depth meter, one on the hazard notes and one concentrating on the actual channel and markers. Thank goodness we have four eyes aboard.

We crossed into Virginia and after a hefty dose of bridge transits, we tied up to the free docks in Chesapeake, Virginia. What a delightful place to stop. The wharf is new and accommodates about 5-6 boats, but we were the only ones there. Not for long though … three more boats showed up within an hour and the dock was full to capacity when another boat showed up later. We chatted with the other cruisers … two Canadian boats, another from Washington state and a big traditional ketch from New Orleans. That's Cups on the far end.

Adjacent to the docks is a lovely little park with a short loop walk along the canal and several historical markers touting Chesapeake, VA as the first land battle of the American Revolution in Virginia. We whupped the Brits in the Battle of Great Bridge.

There was a short path to the main road. We crossed the Great Bridge bascule bridge ... on land for a change ... and got a good look at the bridge and canal from a different perspective when it opened at 3pm.

A huge, wide barge was making a transit. We marveled at the expertise required by the tug captain to negotiate such a huge barge around the river bends and through the bridges. We were quite happy that we hadn't been in the canal when he came through because there would have been no room left for Nine of Cups.

A fine, big grocery store, Farm Fresh, was only a ¼ mile away. We stopped for a late lunch/early dinner and a cold beer en route. We figured shopping on empty stomachs was a bad idea. We stocked up on freshies and a few other basics and hauled it all back to the boat. We were all set for another few days at anchor.

It was a pleasure to be tied up at the dock ... all snug and secure … and free. We slept like rocks till morning.

Intracoastal Waterway - Days 11 & 12

Day 11 - 182 nm to go The full moon was bright as the sun rose to meet the day. The sun, not to be outdone by her nocturnal counterpart, splashed on the scene with flashy color and brilliance and soon diminished all thoughts of the previous night. It was duck pond calm and still quite cool . We had on our long-sleeved shirts once again to ward off the early morning chill.

As we entered Core Creek, shafts of sunlight highlighted the rising mist from the river, giving it a mystic kind of look.

It was a working day on the river. Shrimpers and trawlers were plying the local waters. Gulls crowded around them like gnats looking for an easy breakfast bite. Crabbers checked their pots. Men netted bait fish on the river's edge.

We moved from tiny waterway to waterway, one eye on the depth meter and one on the channel, but there were no adrenaline rushes today. The creeks were narrow, but easy enough to negotiate. The riverbanks were heavily forested wetlands. Big stumps and dead trees crowded into the creeks.

We crossed the wide, deep Neuse River, then worked our way along Goose Creek, across the Pamlico and headed up the Pungo River. We found a fine anchorage, midst crab pots, 20 miles up the Pungo River. There were no ATT bars, no houses, no nothing. We were in the backwoods of Nowheresville, North Carolina. David kept whistling “Dueling Banjos” as if someone hidden on shore might join in.  We had no visitors, however, and by nightfall, five other cruising boats heading north up the ICW were anchored around us. We'd circled the wagons just in case the natives got restless.

Day 12 – ICW Mile marker 128 - 115 nm to go

There was no brilliant sunrise this morning. A cool, lackluster sun made its appearance without fanfare. The wind had picked up during the night and it was tending towards blustery on a grey, grey day. We were stuck good in mud and the chain and anchor needed a washdown. The nozzle on the hose popped off and headed directly for the drink. Darn … I made do with a thumb over the end of the hose, but put a new nozzle on the buy-list.

We extricated ourselves on a slalom course around anchored boats and crab pots and set out up the Pungo-Alligator Canal. A bald eagle flew by, too quick for a photo, but easy enough to recognize. I spotted another high up in a tree, looking stern and serious the way eagles do. There's something exhilarating about seeing an eagle in the wild.

There were lots of birds flitting about and their morning songs were vibrant in the early morning quiet. The evergreens were thick on the north side of the channel contrasting with the grassy wetlands to the south. Old tree trunks stood rotting along the riverside and encroached into the channel … or were we encroaching upon them? The smell was musty and acrid, like a damp, mildewed closet.

A very friendly butterfly flew into the cockpit and lighted on the captain's shoulder, then proceeded to hitch a ride with us for the next few miles riding on a fuel jug on the aft deck.

For some reason, dragonflies were out in great numbers today and as the wind increased, they hopped aboard and hung on for dear life. There were black ones the size of hummingbirds, yellow ones and green ones. They clung to lines and sheets and shrouds and one bright blue one found its way into the cockpit and lit on my finger for awhile, then my leg and then in the shelter of the windscreen. This one stuck around for several hours until we anchored, then left without a fare-thee-well.

We had the jib up as we crossed the Abermarle Sound … we were sailing! Well, at least motor-sailing. The wind was 15-20 knots and the Sound was rough and choppy with nasty square waves spaced only a couple seconds apart. We bounced along, avoided the ever-present crab pots and finally anchored in one of the few spots that afforded us the depth we needed. It wasn't the best spot for protection from the southwest winds, but it was the best we could find at the end of the day.

Intracoastal Waterway - Day 10

Still  206 nm to go- that's what happens when you don't move! I never thought I'd say this after the heat of the last few months but … BRRRR! With the strong northerlies came a significant drop in temperature and it's been downright chilly. This morning we rose to 64F/18C, 93% humidity. The winds had calmed during the night, but there was still a brisk 15+ knot winds blowing. Despite the sun, in the cockpit as the wind whistled through, it was cold and raw. I dug out long-sleeved shirts to keep us warm, but we just couldn't face long pants or shoes. Even though it was cool, the high humidity kept everything dewy and sticky. We had to squeegee the windscreen so we could see through it. No defrosters or windshield wipers on the boat!

As we departed Swansboro, we passed local shrimp boats tied up at the dock and weathered houses along the shore … very scenic and maritime-esque.

We had planned this as a very short day ... for two reasons. First, planning evening anchorages for the next couples of legs was difficult. There weren't many anchorages that would accommodate our 7'2” draft (2.1m), so we chose a closer anchorage for tonight and two anchorages further up the ICW that were about 60 nm apart. The second reason for the short day?  As you know, we are lazy sailors and we can easily rationalize short days. Enough said. Unfortunately, though it was a short day, we still left before 0600 in order to time the rising tide for passing shoal areas.

We headed up the ICW, under the Emerald Isle Bridge and across the wide, flat expanse of the Bogue Sound. The wind whipped up the waves and there were whitecaps until we reached the relative shelter of Morehead City. We smelled wood and sawdust as the huge bulk container vessels unloaded their wood pulp into the waiting barges.

As we turned the corner at the end of the commercial docks, we were exposed to the Morehead City Inlet. The current was in direct conflict with the wind and the waters roiled. We passed through the open, bascule Carolina Coastal Railroad Bridge and then immediately under the fixed Morehead City-Newport River Bridge. Eddies and whirlpools pulled and pushed the boat as it glided through.

Just up the way, we spotted Chimney Island, which by the way, is for sale. Though I'm not sure of its history, its name is obvious.

By mid-morning, it was warming up and comfortable again and we were ready to anchor. Newport Marshes is a tiny little spot just off the ICW that can accommodate about one boat the size of Nine of Cups. We found a fine little 15' pocket, dropped the hook and settled in for the rest of the day and night.

By the light of the full moon, everything looks beautiful.

Some new ICW info … We picked up a new navigation app by Navimatics called Charts and Tides, as recommended by Bob423 (aka Bob Sherer), a frequent and trusted contributor to Active Captain. This app overlays the Active Captain info on NOAA charts and it's pretty slick. It has lots of nifty features that we haven't even discovered yet. Though we're still learning about it, so far it's terrific. It's not just for the ICW, however, it also includes charts for the entire USA including Alaska, Hawaii and the US Caribbean islands. We're impressed!