4/11/16    Monday          Mile Hammock, Camp LeJeune, NC    the boonies again but beautiful, quiet


 Well, today's excitement - a barge aground. There we were on time for the next bridge early this morning and noticed that the barge seemed to be standing still....in the middle of the channel. We watched, We slowed down. We waited. We hailed John Parrish on the radio. "Captain, are you moving? What are your intentions?" "I'm hard aground here and taking up the whole channel." "Okay, we'll stand by and give you room."

We watched. We waited.  Barge called to say he was backing out so that we could go around. Sweet. There was a boat following us so we all passed the barge. We told the captain about the water we were seeing under our keel. Captain concluded that he'd swung too close to the red marker.

Wind forward. The barge got through that tricky part and is baring down on us, not really, but gaining on us and there is a swing bridge coming up that isn't supposed to open for 45 minutes. We're late - or early - now due to stuck barge delay. But, bridges usually open for barges. Hail the bridge. "May we follow the barge through?" Yes. So we get out of the way so John Parrish can pass us and away we all go through the bridge....earlier than expected. Pass the barge.

Passing John Parrish and barge

Forward again. We are well ahead of barge and come to a very complicated turn - complicated due to shoaling AND the fact that there is a dredge operation with several dredge boats there. Slowing down. We hailed the lead dredge which told us to pass its starboard side to our port. Now that's a simple instruction and we know how to do that. BUT, which way is it facing? Which is its starboard side? There's a crane on each end of the platform, pilot house sort of in the middle. Can't figure which way is forward, thus which is port and which is starboard. Confusion reigns. We go in a squiggly circle almost and..........here comes John Parrish to the rescue. "Do you know what how we should manage this passage?" "You should follow me." We're all over that suggestion. Turning into Jon Parrish wake and here we go.

follow that tug and barge

Captain David admits he was out of practise with his day signals. However, the regular red navigational aids were in place, plus the additional yellow and red balls that marked the dredge operation. When John Parrish came around the corner some work boats moved some equipment out of its way. They didn't do that for little ol' Grace.

Our leapfrogging with John Parrish came to an end only a few miles later when we turned off into this anchorage at Mile Hammock. Really wonderful pilot on that tug/barge combo. He was very helpful and generous. And we helped him out, too, calling out the water depths when he was behind us after grounding.

The other interest of the day were all the Osprey nests, nearly every day marker had one, usually with a hawk on the nest and another circling or fishing nearby.

this marker only has a hat

this marker's hat has a bird, as did most

So we pulled into Mile Hammock around 1330 (1:30 PM) and were the only boat here. It is a large bowl, larger than The Basin in Maine for those of us who know that site. It is really in the most rural area of Camp LeJeune. There is a big parking lot with a big boat ramp at one end and a number of cars parked there. Marines on maneuvers?  Portable toilets but I don't think we're allowed ashore. I took my book out to the aft deck to read in the sun. Read. Took a nap. Read. Came inside and noticed that David was napping in the pilot house and Amelia was napping in the saloon. By then I was ready for a project so worked on scraping varnish off the rails. Seems like a never-ending job. David rallied and worked on an outside project. Now we're all awake and ready for some dinner. Sun is sinking. Life is good.

4/10/16        Sunday          Wrightsville Beach, NC


Well, today was different. Didn't run aground. No mechanical issues. Relatively (operative word) deep waters. Nothing too skinny or narrow. The Cape Fear River (abt 6 miles for us) was bumpy but nothing like Charleston Harbor. No bridges that needed to open (that starts tomorrow). All in all, a really gentle day.

We left the dock in St. James Plantation before 9:00 and traveled with a rising tide most of the day. One EXCITEMENT was watching the sailboat in front of us go through a bridge sideways. Whoa! We think the captain was going cautiously due to the height of his mast. And we think he changed his mind about continuing just before the mast got to the bridge and started to back up and turn around. We think the current caught him so that he went through the bridge sideways. Imagine that. A large sailboat traveling sideways - bow and stern in the direction of the highway over the bridge...just floating under the bridge. The mast barely cleared. Captain turned the boat forward as soon as he'd cleared the bridge pilings. We applauded and captain and Grace captain talked about the maneuver. Turns out that boat is 63'3". Bridge clearance is reported to be 64'6". I'd have tried to change my mind about going under (at high tide), too.  We, with our 43" just waited in wonder and motored right through once Adventurer (just remembered the name) cleared out.

At another bridge we decided to stop our journey early. This particular bridge only opens on the hour and we wouldn't make the 2 PM opening which would have put us early evening looking for an anchorage. Anchorages were scarce for many miles beyond Wrightsville. So docked tonight at what looks as if it is going to be a free dock at a restaurant called Dockside. We and another boat looked for the harbor/dock master much of the afternoon to no avail and dock master won't return until 8 AM. We're trying to get the 7 AM bridge opening so as to make tracks/waves toward Morehead tomorrow. Oh well. We didn't even buy a drink at the restaurant. We did get a walk, chilly as it is here, to the food store. Lovely village with dogwood trees in bloom.

dogwood branch

Dockside from our deck

Amelia seems to have more energy today but is still having trouble with her bathroom visits. We'll continue her antibiotics and try to get her to eat. She had a little pizza pepperoni tonight. That should do something for her digestive track.

And it IS chilly here. Good to have socks and vests and hats today.

Across ICW - out our other window

6/9/16           Saturday                     south, Southport, NC



We would have crossed the Cape Fear River today and really been in NC but instead.....................we ran aground at G81 off Monk Island and waited.........and waited..............and waited. Then, Tow Boat US came to babysit us and we all waited..............and waited.............and waited............for the tide to change so there was enough water t pull us off the sandbar. No damage except pride and confidence. Both David and I read the Active Captain chart and comments 12 or 15 times for each "caution", post-grounding. We were pretty solidly ground into the ground. The advantage to running aground here in the South is that the ground is soft, usually sand. The problem is that soft ground keeps shifting/shoaling. This lovely shoal had drifted further into the channel than even the "comments" section told. We'll comment hopefully preventing others from our experience.

Not sailing, sitting in sand

To Boat US babysitting us

holding on - slip, sliding away

                                             black dot should be at "zero"

 NOT my idea of a good time. And it was a long wait. About 40 minutes for Tow US to arrive then another 3.5 hours for the tide to begin to lift us off.

We learned that friends, Lori and Clint, lost engine power 3 times in the Neuse River, their dinghy came loose and they had to chase it down in 28 Knot winds. They are snugly in Oriental this evening.

Oh, the headaches

should not be able to see below the black

being towed

Now what was it we said last October, I think it was, after our friends, Ed and Vicki, ran aground and ripped their rudder off? Something like, "Only travel at rising tides". And what were we doing at G81 at nearly low and falling tide. STUPID!

It was a day of issues for our us and our peer boaters. For us, Amelia got really sick last night - throwing up, straining to urinate or defecate, then throwing up...mostly water. Okay. Too much information. So I started searching the kitty webMD page, then for a vet in North Myrtle Beach. This morning found one with space. Great place, Kind Care, and the vet and technician who took care of Amelia (and me), Dr Newmann and...?.., were wonderful. Dr Newmann even showed me how to find Amelia's bladder and kidneys. Turns out kitty was mostly fine, no major problems found. A little blood in feces so she is on an antibiotic for a week and they hydrated her. My fear was that her kidney disease was a crisis rather than just being "managed" as has been the case for a couple of years. Not a worry, apparently. And now, cute kitty is sitting here cleaning herself and acting "normal." Maybe just a bug.

And Lori and Clint had to chase their dinghy down and their engine died.

Wayne Hollingworth, is this your wrath? After al lour love I thought you would be protecting us (maybe you were) but what is all this wind and running aground stuff on the anniversary of your death. And, I had a little psychic visit from Kelly last night, too. Spirits are moving around, too.

And now, safely on a dock in Southport, NC we've had home/boat-made tomato/vegetable soup.....but, the temperatures are COLD!!! Clearly, we left FL too early. Its aspirin and Emergen-C for me tonight....and a sleeping bag as cover.

6/8/16         Friday            Myrtle Beach, SC


As horrible and difficult and frustrating as yesterday was (until McClellanville), today was easy. We left on a rising tide with brilliant sun and no wind (okay, so there were bugs outside, we were inside).

Shrimp boats in the morning sun. They go back to shrimping Monday

As good fortune would have it we were on a rising tide all day long - the rising tide just kept preceding us. I don't know what natural magic makes that possible but today it was perfect magic. We made approximately 7.5 knots (8+ mph) all day long!

Yesterday at the swing bridge that didn't, we encountered speed boats. Oh my, they were racing down the stretch of bay that we anchored in to await the bridge opening. Today we saw them un and down the Waccamaw River. They'd arrive out of nowhere and speed past and disappear. Usually 2 people, assumed men, in helmets (good idea but I suspect it was so they could talk to each other), zip by, limited wake because they were barely in the water. There was an instrument on the bow of the boats that reminded me of a hunting bow without the bow part. No idea what that instrument was for. So today we were 30+ miles from the bridge of yesterday and these boats kept zipping buy one way then the other. Speed trials? Friday morning/afternoon zip around? Drug running? Who knows. Impressive though

speed boat

Just the rooster tail is what I usually got

So there they went - zoom. zoom! to our 8 mph. No telling how fast they were really going.

There was one complicated spot for navigation today. We both remembered that this was a spot coming south that we missed our turn, were heading "safely out to sea" when we discovered our mistake and promptly turned around and found the turn. Such a wide interchange of pathways and possibilities. We saw another boat today that had obviously turned at the wrong place. She corrected. Beyond this large water was Waccamaw River and the WR National Wildlife Refuge. It was board and deep - like 30-40' deep - aaaaahhhhh, especially after yesterday's 5'6" depth. I luxuriated at the helm.  There were osprey nests about every 1/10th mile and the those hawks were fluffing their nests.

Nests were on every navigational aid as well as in all sorts of trees. Trees btw are now mostly desciduous. The evergreens are long leaf pines and cypress rather than palms. The few palms are mostly decorative and planted with a few palmetto scrubs.

osprey at top of dead tree on right

As the day progressed David did some major navigation calculations to see if we could get through the infamous "rock pile" today. After lots of math, talking to Boats US, more calculations we decided to see where we were (what time) when we reached a particular bridge. So he and the admiral took a break.

Amelia and David relax

Amelia continued her break. She's older.

Admiral Amelia

We're very aware of Amelia's aging. Post-Marathon we're noticing that she doesn't see or smell as well as in the past. Giving her dry food treats means you have to hold them in your hand then remind her where they are. Now part of this might be her being spoiled but she can't easily find her food and water so I offer it to her then direct her to where it "lives". Also her mis-aligned front ankles give out on some of her jumps down from the bed or the settee and she limps along for a bit. It will be interesting to see how she readjusts to life on land back at 7 Lavers Pond Rd. Will she remember all her old haunts? Will she be able to do the stairs? Will she choose to live on the first floor? The second? And we'll need a litter box on both floors? Will she be comfortable going off the deck? Will she follow us to the pond? We'll see.

So after speed boats, birds and naps it was time to consider the "rock pile" thus named because the ICW here is cut out of rock, I don't know what kind of rock but the sides were cut straight down and the bottom flat. Now rock has fallen into the canal that was cut and sometimes presents major hazards to boating. Our friend, Clint, just earlier this week lost his focus for a moment and ran into a rock that gouged a piece out of his hull and cracked his fuel tank. He got he repair done quickly but was out of the water for 24+ hours. On him way again now. So, caution is necessary. I took us through this on the way south. David did a bunch more reading and we both got a bunch more anxious. He took us through this time with no difficulties other than sweaty armpits and one snarly section when for a moment I had the helm and wasn't centered enough for his comfort. He wanted me to take pics of how scary it is. Unfortunately, the narrowness and shallowness doesn't show up in photos.

really hazardous part is 6 miles long

doesn't look dangerous but that stuff is hard

You can see that the tide is definitely falling, which allows you to see the rocks but doesn't give much negotiating room for moving from one side to another.

rocky with marsh grass - pitted rock sort of like coral

R16

This is the most scary place at Red 16. The note says that rocks extend toward the center and are only 3' below the surface. Stay center or slightly to right. Yikes

approaching R16

Photo doesn't really show how narrow the channel is here, maybe 50' across at low tide.

But we made it through, congratulated each other. No boat damages and marriage still intact.

We've been motoring for 8.5 hours today, a looooonnnngg day, for sure about 85 miles.

A good rest and maybe a short day tomorrow.

6/7/16           Thursday              Leland Oil Marine, McClellanville, SC


Charleston Harbor sucks! Again today (as last fall) the seas in the harbor were washing machine type. We left our lovely dock around 8:30  with wind but calm water. Then, wham! White caps and winds of 27 k. Kitty was wide-eyed, water jugs and cat food dishes went skidding. Luckily I'd put flower vase and coffee pot in the sink. Holy cow patty! All this chaos only lasted for 5 miles - 43.9 minutes in case anyone was counting. Then we turned into the ICW and calmness prevailed.

We approached the Ben Sawyer Memorial Swing Bridge, asking "permission to pass at your earliest convenience." "Just keep coming captain." I love it when the bridge tender calls me captain. "Yes ma'am."...........almost there, cars have stopped on the western side. "I'm sorry Grace. I have to delay the opening. The (traffic) gate won't close." uh oh. So we throttled back and started circling, were told that maintenance was coming to fix the gate. hmmm, see my eyes slide side to side, expecting this could take all day. So, move out of channel and set an anchor. On second try the anchor finally sets. "Alright Grace. You can proceed."  "Grace come on through." "Okay, Bridge, we're just hoisting the anchor." "Copy that"  So we went through the bridge around 10 am, nearly one hour later than planned. North, up the ICW...we're going north, the push is on - sung to North to Alaska tune.

All was well until we got to skinny, make that anorexic!!!  water. Now our boat, we discovered yesterday only draws 4'3". So, we're pretty relaxed at 12' of water, even 10'. We start paying closer attention, maybe even slow down when the depth reaches single digits. Current was really swift today, too, so I (at the helm) was being pretty cautious. At 6' both of us were paying rapt attention. Where is the "deepest" water? On the magenta line? to the east of the magenta line? the west? Is there anything even close to consistency??? Not that I noticed. The most shallow I saw was 5.3'.....  a good foot of water beneath our keel. What's the worry? The good news was that the turn into the creek of our dockage was only a mile away and the creek had been dredged. Made the turn and David said, "Good job, you can relax." "Not yet, I'm in 5' of water again. You can take over, please."

So, we're here at the dock. David changed the fuel filters so that and the oil and ATF change yesterday and we're good for another 200 hours of engine time.

my favorite mechanic where he spends most of his time

I walked to the shrimp store while he was finishing up. David gets a shower (not at the shrimp store). We took a short walk around a portion of this sweet, beautiful town. Mid-spring is upon us and it is luscious and beautiful.

Azaleas are full to passing

The cluster roses and wisteria are in full bloom. Gentle warm breeze (away from the water).

The cluster roses below are a pale yellow. Also blooming are some little lilies that I've not seen before.

Wisteria

I definitely have spring fever! Only want to watch things grow. Better get back on the water before I start weeding someone's yard.

4/6/16           Wednesday          Charleston, SC


The joy of returning to places we've been is that we remember who we met and some of what we did. Returning to Charleston - it was MUCH easier entering this time from the other direction and much more laid down seas, not the 4'-5' chop of last fall; we're in the same marina as last time where we met Brian, and Craig and Dana, and John and Darlene, we're still in touch and have traveled with all of them; Sybil and Michael drove down and spent the day w/us and we had lunch in that fabulous place something like 248 Queen St (not the exact #s but that idea); and we know where the food store is and the laundry and shower facilities. Sweet. And tonight we walked further into town and had a hamburger at Henry's which is purported to be the oldest continually serving restaurant in Charleston. I needed a hamburger and not to cook it myself. We started on the outdoor, 2nd floor deck around 6:30. Quiet, only people out there. I leaned back in my chair and there were leaves on the mulberry tree over my head and light blue sky as background. Those raucous black birds than hang out on rigging wires were calling and chattering. Just lovely after an adventurous and arduous day on the boat.

Before boat excitement I'll mention the brilliance of the stars last night in Steamboat Creek. no light pollution so they were twinkling and so very many of them. I never see this many in Maine and, of course, we see different stars this far south. It was too cold to stay outside and really enjoy them. I did sit outside a very short while around 4:30 this morning. The Milky Way was so distinct and the lower horizon was cluttered with unfamiliar combinations. Breathtaking.

Pancakes for breakfast. Mediocre coffee which is the fault of the coffee, not the cook, and on our way. We had a brief conversation about our short yelling match yesterday, resolved that we just had different opinions of what the most treacherous hazard was. David thinking running aground, I thinking wrapping the prop. And, he pointed out that our relationship was not one of taking orders and commanding. All true. We've survived another...something...difference of opinions.

Pretty relaxed day of motoring and then.....a Coast Guard boat came roaring toward us with its blue lights flashing. It was meeting us so we moved over to give it room. I waved as we do to most all boats. It turned around and followed us. Oops! Excitement. Slowed right down, stuck my head out the door and said "Good morning, gentlemen." One of the young, handsome gentlemen (there were four of them) asked when was the last time I'd been boarded by the Coast Guard. "I've never been boarded by the Coast Guard. Is this my lucky day?" Turns out it was. We were instructed to continue on our way but at a slow pace and the CG boat would come alongside and tow men would come aboard. "Welcome" and introductions including Amelia who was a little wide-eyed, having never seen Coast Guards before. The two men did a pretty thorough safety and documentation check - the bilge, documentation papers for vessel, photo IDs, life jackets, head containment, notices of overboard waste and oil/fuel discharge. Very pleasant fellows and we, very pleasant hosts. Everything in order. We would have received an A+ and Good Citizen awards if they gave them out. Instead we got a yellow copy of the form that said our boat was in good, safe, legal order. I wanted a gold star. The CG boat that had been following about 20' behind came up alongside again, the young men left and David and I did the Charleston we were so excited to have been boarded by the CG. Felt as if we'd come of age somehow. Had to call someone immediately to tell them, so David called Joe Field who had been a CG trainer sometime in his past. They chatted until we came to Elliot Cut which empties into Charleston Harbor.

WOW! We were boarded by the Coast Guard! Got to put this on Facebook. Not sure why it tickles both of us so much but it does. Giggle.

Got into the Charleston Maritime Center around 1:00 PM (1300 hrs) and had to stay on the fuel dock until the tide came in. We now know that our exact draft is 4'3". David changed the oil (after a couple of false starts and ordering a oil filter wrench) and the trannie fluid. I did the laundry including our cushion covers. Well done, both of us, but exhausting. I had to take a short nap. Then we moved Grace over to the dock we were supposed to be on not that water was high enough.

Talked with boating friend, Clint (and Lori), who had an encounter with a rock in the "Rock Pile", a tricky, narrow, carved out part of the ICW. Fun to chat w/him about his mis-adventure, recovery and appreciation of Lori being with him (she's not right now). They're enough ahead of us that we probably won't see them again, or maybe in the Chesapeake.

Then a walk to dinner, maybe 1/2 mile in each direction, lovely place, delicious hamburger and fries, walk back and did a bit of food shopping as we'll be away from such easy access for the next several days.

David's gone to bed. Kitty is curled beside me. And I'm on my way to bed. Oh but last night's dreams: I needed to mow Kathleen's yard but took my time tying these silly little princess shoes that show the cleavage in your toes and were Not appropriate for mowing lawns but then I expected Dale would take care of the mowing. Some conversation with my mom about yes, good idea to help Kathleen.
There was another dream part I remembered this morning but it is lost now.

4/5/16               Tuesday          boonies between Beaufort and Charleston, Steamboat Creek


Sleep in morning for me. I got up at 6:30 AM to pee and feed Amelia. Back to bed since we weren't planning to leave until after noon so as to avoid some, at least, of the negative effect of the tides. Work up at 9:00 Back to sleep. David woke me at 9:20, just to check on me, I think. Up and at 'em, I say.

It was a morning of thwarted projects for David. He'd planned to change the oil but after opening the engine compartment (a task that includes moving some furniture, rolling the rug, lifting the engine compartment doors, removing some enclosures around engine) and getting the oil and filters all laid out, he remembered he was supposed to change the oil when the engine is warm. Bummer. So he decided to replace the internal zincs. Got those tools and parts out only to discover the zincs had to be assembled. He DID get the water filter washed out which was a good thing. We'll check the zincs at another time. Oil change in Charleston.

I, on the other hand, made mac & cheese, 1/2 recipe, with Bisquick rather than flour. So, who knows (yet) how that will taste. It looks pretty. Dinner later tonight.

We chatted with Sharyl to catch her up with where we are and catch up w/her a bit...say hello. Keep trying to figure a way, multiple ways, to support her best interests as she meets the challenges of aging and compromised health. And, keep getting frustrated that our efforts aren't effective. At least they don't look effective from where we sit. These are not easy times. I can't imagine how/if I would cope with chronic pain. Still. How to support/assist. Stymied.

We made good time - traveled long and didn't stop until 7:30 (1930 hours) tonight. David did most of the helms work. He seems to want the helm more now than coming down. Not sure what that's about. The water was skinny (shallow) much of the time. It is tense, always alert, driving. I took over for awhile on a broader, deeper stretch. We got into a tiff when I was at the helm late in the day. Both tired. I didn't respond as he demanded I respond in what he obviously felt was an emergency situation that I didn't see the same way. His concern was that I was going to out run out of the channel into a marked 2' area (it was high tide going higher). I was concerned about hitting a crab pot and wrapping the prop (stopping us dead in the water as we've done before). Yelling match. No running aground. No wrapping the prop. We'll probably process, both think we were right, and move on.  We were successful in our efforts to cooperate and get ourselves anchored securely. The place is so isolated, at least from the water. A little creek/river and marsh, marsh, marsh. Only lights are a tower and a couple of navigational aid lights just over there above the marsh grass.

Charleston tomorrow!