SWANSBORO, NORTH CAROLINA

We left Wrightsville Beach on Memorial Day.  We thought the traffic would be bad on the ICW

given that the weather was perfect and it was a holiday weekend.  However, we were delightfully suprised.  It really was not that bad at all. 

Some interesting displays on the ICW of what happens when you have more time and money than sense.

Well, we saw a camel on the Okeechobee.  So why not?

Most of the boaters we encountered were relatively well behaved.  Some actually slowed down to pass.  There were a lot of annoying jetskis (aka Sea Gnats).  Certainly, it was not nearly as bad as some of that which we experienced in Florida, especially in that stretch between Fort Lauderdale and Miami.  More importantly, the biggest difference in the traffic here and in Florida, is not so much the volume of other boats, but rather the size of the boats.  It's one thing to get "racked" by the wake of a 23 foot Carolina Skiff on plane or a jet ski, or a bass boat moving at an entirely ridiculous speed.  It's entirely another thing, however, to get "hammered" by the wake of a 55 foot sportsfisher "plowing".  So, I guess it's all relative. 

Anchored in front of Swansboro.  You can see the small skiff in the photo.  This is what we had to deal with all day.  Only a few hundred or so, but their wakes are not so bad.

We travelled a long way to get from Wrightsville Beach to Swansboro; nearly 60 nm.  We bypassed our planned anchorage and moved on to our back up plan after seeing the anchorage.  While there was nothing really wrong with it, we just didn't feel like sitting around for a night in the heat and potential "bugginess" of that place.  So, we kept moving.

This is the anchorage.  It's called Mile Hammock Bay.  It's right on Camp Lejeune.  You are not permitted to go ashore here as it is a restricted area.  Duh!  It's a Marine Corps Base.  It looked like it might be pretty "buggy".

The trip was pretty easy, although we had to slow down or stop for a couple bridges that only opened on the hour or on the half and on the hour.  Timing your arrival at such a place is not that easy.  You would think that it is simple to calculate the distance to the bridge and then adjust your speed so that you arrive at the appointed time.  However, your speed is constantly changing, and especially when you pass an inlet.  If the tide is going out, then you are racing along at higher speed if you are south of the inlet, and then you might be slogging it out if you are north of the inlet.  All of the reverse seems to be true if the tide is coming in.  So, I figure if you arrive near the bridge within 5 minutes of the opening, you are doing pretty good.  Then, you have to hold your position which is not that easy if the current from the tide change is pushing you towards the bridge.  You might even have to figure out a u-turn so you don't get pushed into the bridge and, do it in a relatively narrow space, especially if the tide is low.
All's well that ends well, I always say.

When cruising through a USMC base, you better pay attention to the signs.  I understand the USMC likes to play with tanks in this neighborhood.

Swansboro is literally a "wide spot in the road" (as my friend Harry likes to refer to most small towns).  There appeared to be a good anchorage and an easily accessible dinghy dock.  You anchor in the river, between the bridge and the bend in the ICW right in front of the historic downtown area.  While the holding is good with a Bruce, I wouldn't try it with a Danforth.  The current is really swift here and the bottom is very hard.  Now, when I say the dinghy dock is "easily accessible", I mean it is there, it is free, and with a little effort, you can climb up without a ladder and without necessarily risking death or severe bodily injury.......... to yourself or the dinghy.  Knee pads would be useful here.  At least someone takes the time to scrape the sharp oyster shells off the wooden piles so the dinghy is not at such severe risk of death by puncture wound.

This town, like so many others, is what I am now referring to as a "4C locale."  the 4 C's stand for Coastal Carolina Colonial Community.  Like most of the other 4C's we have visited, there is an historic downtown area in which seemingly each and every structure sports a plackard telling you whose house it was when it was built way back when.


Now I'm confused.  My friend back in Channel Islands, Dan "the Glass Man" Ward and his lovely wife Shelly, must really be nippin' at that fountain of youth, because they certainly don't look that old.

 There are lots of shops with cool gift items, most of which were done by local artists.  There is a bridge, a bicentennial park, a couple nice restaurants, and an Old Irish Pub.

The ironic thing about this Irish Pub in Swansboro is that it only has a beer and wine license.  What?  No Bushmills?  I'm not sure, under the circumstances, it they can legitimately call itself an Irish Pub, but what the heck?  They poured a mean Guinness (al beit sans clover in the suds).  And, Brenda had her usual Irish Pub drink - Irish Coffee.  However, they couldn't use Jameson's, so it was supposed to have been made with Baileys.  Unfortunately, no Bailey's either.  So they use something called "Reiley's" instead of Bailey's as it's alcohol content is no different than wine and could be sold under their license.  Nevertheless, the drink was very tasty.

Although I tease about the 4C's and all that, this is actually a very nice little town on the White Oak River here in North Carolina.  It is a very pleasant port town built on fishing and ship building first settled in or about 1740.  Its most famous person is a dude named Otway.

There's Mr. Otway now!

He was apparently a shipbuilder, a merchant, a politician, a privateer, and whatever else he could come up with. 

Here is another "icon" believed to be moonlighting in the Carolinas, when he isn't making the headlines with appearances at gas stations in Little Rock or wherever.

The place did well in the shipbuilding and lumber business until the Civil War ended.  Then, absolutely nothing happened here until WWII when Camp Lejeune opened nearby.  The community has a Military Appreciation Day almost weekly and, from what I understand, turns out all the stops for Independence Day.  There is still an active shrimp fishing fleet here.  Many of the downtown stores and fishhouses were built in the late 1800s.  They have now been converted to very nice boutiques and gift shops.

You're not going to believe this, but a guy named Robert McClean lived here and was a terpentine merchant.  He was a Scottsman.  I guess his effort to produce mother's milk from the homeland went south on him and that's what he ended up with - terpentine.  Unfortunately, his place burned down.  Figues.

However, we discovered Suzanne's Fudge Factory and decided to buy a house here and stay.  Just kidding, but it was that good.  There is, believe it or not, still some left in the fridge for later.




 

We're heading off to Beaufort today. (pronounced "Bo-fort" here in North Carolina as opposed to Beaufort pronounced "B-you-fert" in South Carolina).  More later.



NORTH CAROLINA - WILMINGTON AND WRIGHTSVILLE BEACH

South Carolina was fun, but we were done with the bugs.  So, after a nice rest at the Myrtle Beach Yacht Club, including a luxurious dip in their pool, we moved on to North Carolina.  Our first stop - Wilmington.  Unfortunately, I had to travel for some business, so we did not get to see as much of it as we would have liked.  Brenda stayed with the cats and the boat, and hung with Barry and Jodie for a couple days while I was gone.  I'm not entirely sure what she was doing those 72 hours, but the boat was sure clean and there is even a picture of her eating sushi.  Sushi?  Yes, sushi. 

Wilmington is about 14 miles up the Cape Fear River.  You pop out of the ICW near the town of Southport and then the water gets really wide and quite deep as you head essentially west.  You can really feel what happens when the wind opposes the tidal current.  It was quite bumpy all the way up.  Then, just to make matters more interesting, we had a tanker show up on our tail most of the way up the river.  I got the skipper on the radio and we agreed I would just stick to the green side and allow her to pass. Well, she never did.  She had to slow up once she got to the Wilmington area.  We had made arrangements to stay on the city dock, but since they have no pump out service, we had to go another mile or so up the river to another dock where they did, before tucking in for the next couple days.

This is the ship that "chased" us up the Cape Fear River to Wilmington.

The city dock is in Historic Old Town Wilmington right across from where the USS North Carolina is permanently docked as a memorial to all those soldiers and sailors who died serving their country who came from North Carolina.  The old town area is really nice.  There is an abundance of restaurants and bars and shops.  I did not realize it until later, but the Wilmington area is quite large.  It is also the home of the University of North Carolina, Wilmington.  It makes sense that the historic downtown area is not just for tourists, but also for all the folks who live there to come and party.  It would seem they too, like so many of the towns we have visited, have a celebration a week.  As such, there is a lot to do in the area.

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One of the coolest things I have ever seen is right there in Wilmington - a Serpentarium.  This serpentarium is a herpetologist's dream come true.  The folks who put this place together have managed to accumulate in one place some of the world's most interesting and deadly snakes, as well as a variety of other reptiles.  We had an interesting time touring this place.  This place would be the thing nightmares are made of, but for the great ice cream we found after we left.

The King Cobra - approximately 16 feet long.

Whoa Daddy!

Now if images of this fellow don't keep you up at night.......

Unfortunately, not unlike most city docks, the Wilmington City Dock was located in an area where some might say there is a crime problem.  There is this picnic ground right behind the Visitors Information Center, which is right next door to the Federal Building, where a lot of homeless folks camp out.  The person who came down to the dock to meet us from the City told me there was security at night and that this was not a problematic neighborhood.  Unfortunately, Brenda's bike was stolen.  Moreover, Love Shack, docked right behind us, had an intruder on their boat during the night, as evidenced by the big black footprints they had on their deck and stairs leading to their fly bridge.  Not only that, but the constant commentary from the homeless folks who were insistant we should take them for a ride or take them fishing, and the cat calls and hoots and hollars when Brenda was at the helm as we left.  I've got a rope and a cinder block for that guy.  When we left, I contacted the dockmaster and let him know that, while we enjoyed our stay for the most part, there were some issues they need to deal with if they really have an interest in attracting cruisers to their little corner of the planet.  It should go something like this:  Memo to Police Chief:  clear the homeless out of the Tourist Information Center, and put up a gate with a lock to keep rif-raff off the docks.  Let me be clear.  I don't know who stole Brenda's `bike, or who wandered onto our friends' boat, and certainly, even the homeless need a place to go, but tell me when I get there so I know whether or not this is a "lock it or lose it" place.  By the way, Brenda's bike was locked.  Anyways, the City was nice enough to offer us our money back and of course we accepted.

Later that day, we threw off the lines and headed down to a place called Wrightsville Beach.  It seemed like a good enough place to go for the holiday weekend.  Of course, when you go up a river to get somewhere, you generally have to go back down the river, too.  So we did.  There is a charted cut leading from the Cape Fear River to Snows Cut.  The chart shows plenty of water in this otherwise well marked cut.  So, we're cruising along and the depth looks really good - 16' for most of the way.  Then as we get to the mouth of snow's cut, it goes from 16 down to very little, right in the middle of the marked channel - and we were 2 hours from low tide! So we bumped and got stuck. Oh well, so we placed a kedge and waited for the tide to change.  In the interim, and notwithstanding the placement of a kedge, inconsiderate folks continued to blast by causing a wake that we believe pushed us further into the mud.  So, even though the tide was shifting, we were not floating.  So, eventually, we bit the bullet and called Towboat US and they cam and pulled us off.  No harm, now foul.  I'll tell you what.  Pretty soon we will be done with this Magic Magenta Line thing, and have to rely on charts to tell us where we can and cannot go, and my confidence level in NOAA's charting is not at an all time high. 

We found a really nice anchorage very close to the town where there was a very convenient dinghy dock.  We had a nice time here getting some chores done and also some shopping.  We finally found those cool beach chairs that fold up and have back pack straps.  So we went to the beach, after it stopped raining, of course.  The beach is absolutely beautiful and the water is warm. It rained most of the day, but that didn't keep us from going out for a long hike and doing other things around the boat.

There are a lot of young folks here.  There are a lot of people here, period.  It figures since this is a holiday weekend in a university town. 

These boats are all stopped on an exposed sand bar for a party.

Sitting on the beach in the late afternoon and early evening was really nice.  So many people out having a good time with their friends and families.  I had a realization while sitting there looking at the people and the water.  I have always said that, if I had it to do all over again, I would not change a thing.  I am hereby recanting that.  That is not to say I have any regrets, because I really don't.  However, having seen almost 3000 miles of this country's coast line, I am now firmly convinced that there are places I never imagined that have more to offer than I would have ever known.  People are all the same whereever you go.  And one thing is true regardless of what color you are, what race you are, what God you believe in, what socioeconomic class you live in - the young boy will always manage to find the kelp on the beach and throw it at his older sister.

Cheers, y'all.  Next stop?  I'm not sure yet.  We'll figure something out.



CAPERS ISLAND, GEORGETOWN, MYRTLE BEACH YACHT CLUB

Abreojos is a slow boat.  We typically run at between 6 and 7 knots - that's approximately 7-8 mph to a  landlubber.  So, you get the idea that it takes all day to run 40-50 miles.  Add to that the issue concerning the tides and you have even less running time during daylight hours.  As such, each day, we stop for the night in some new place.  At the end of our first day out of Charlestown, we found an extraordinary spot to anchor for the night and discovered a great hike on Capers Island.

The anchorage is just off the ICW.  You basically turn left up this creek and drop the hook before the bend, in about 10 feet of water.  Then drop the dink and cruise it about 3/4 of a mile to a pier at the end of Capers Island, a barrier island.  Then you follow this trail that leads past an "impounded" lake full of gators (allegedly) and through the scrub, the pine trees, the oak hammocks, and finally the beach on the Atlantic Ocean. 

We got to the beach at low tide and it was quite a sight.  White sand as far as the eye could see, scattered with exposed oyster ledges.  What was most strange looking however, was the trees.  It looked as though some force had come through there and really tore the place up.  It looked like a post war landscape on the Normandy coast.  It was spectacular.  We spent the afternoon walking the beach and collecting a backpack full of conch shells.

The following day, we left for our next stop on the way to Georgetown - another stopover anchorage called Minim Creek.  I have no photos of this place.  I couldn't get out to take any because of the bugs.  We stayed in buttoned up tight and left as soon as we could.  It was amazing.  On the sunny side of the boat, there were Dragonflies lined up every 6" on the lifelines.  Then, there were piles of dead mosquitos on the gunwales under the same lifelines.  I think the dragons eat the mosquitos!  Anyways, on to Georgetown.

Georgetown was a nice surprise.  It lies at the confluence of the Great Pee Dee River, the Waccamaw River and the Sampit River just north of Winyah Bay.  It's a cool little town with lots of nice restaurants and bars, antique shops, theatres, hotels, B&B's, and gift shops.  So many of these little towns like to emmulate towns like Savannah and Charleston with all their historic landmarks and dedicated historic homes and other monuments.  It's almost funny when you read a sign that says, so and so entertained "Washington" here in 1775.  Note I did not say, "George Washington", just "Washington".  It could have been Bob Washington for all anyone knows, but someone named "Washington" was apparently lavishly entertained. 

 

The town has revitalized over the past few years and the main street is very pretty.  There are fresh flower beds and planters, herb gardens, and a very nice waterfront boardwalk.  The town hosts several festivals a year that attract mostly motorcycles.  However, the waterfront is very cool and there are several very small marinas to chose from.  Or, you can do like us and anchor out right in front of the clocktower.  We didn't cook at all while we were here.  It was really warm and humid out so we dined in town with our friends on The Love Shack.  There is a great bakery here that produces some of the best bread I have ever had.  I would love to know their secret.

Ater leaving Georgetown, we stopped for the night at a place we refer to as the "Oxbow at the 375.5".  It was a beautiful spot.  The water was deep enough and wide enough to make anchoring easy, and the area was surrounded by green and tall trees.  This area on the charts is denoted a cypress swamp.  Beautiful.  We saw aligators there, too.  The water is very very tannic and coffee colored.  This place is on the Waccamaw River.  As such, the cruising guides recommend use of a trip line on the anchor because of the likelihood of hooking something untoward, such as a tree stump.  So, I did.  I put a small buoy on the end so I could hook it with a boat hook when retrieving the anchor.  It was interesting to see how the boat behaves on its anchor depending on the wind, current, and tides.  We dropped the anchor, backed down as we let out approximately 90 feet of chain, set it well, and then shut down.  The next thing we know, the buoy is basically sitting right next to the boat.  It stayed there all the time.  There was absolutely no pull on the anchor whatsoever.  We slept just fine that night.

So, after spending a few days battling the bugs, the heat, and the humidity, we decided to stop at the Myrtle Beach Yacht Club.  We found them in the cruising guide and it was indicated that they had a pool.  Also, they have probably the lowest price for diesel on the east coast, and, they were only $1.45 per foot for dockage.  So, we cut our day trip short and stopped for the night.  Tomorrow (or later today, I should say) we will be heading for Wilmington, North Carolina.

ASHEPOO, STONO, AND CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA

We left Beaufort under cloudy skies, but the wind was calm.  Some of you saw the photos of the guy who also tried to leave Beaufort but kinda got caught not paying attention. 

It can happen to anyone.  They key is to use all the tools you have and not make stupid mistakes due to lack of focus.  He was stuck there for many hours while the Towboat US stayed attached to him.  He was leaking fuel all over the place and even from that distance, the smell was virtually intolerable.  Unfortunately, there was simply nothing that could be done but to wait for the next high tide to float him off.  Patience is a virtue.

Anyways, our destination for the first night out of Beaufort on the way to Charleston was an anchorage on the Ashepoo River.  It was not that far, so we took our time waiting for the right tide to leave and had a nice journey there.  Nothing terribly exciting to report.  It was quite beautiful there, but the horseflies really became an issue.  So, we had to stay inside most of the time and had to keep the screens on the back deck buttoned up.  This was really unfortunate because, as I said, it was really beautiful. 

So, we developed a new game.  It's called "Horsefly Bingo".  It's played just like regular Bingo, except that, instead of a rolling bowl of balls, the numbers come from horeseflies landing on a pre-made grid hung on top of the big screen across the back deck.  Each player has a card.  When a horesefly lands, you simply determine where on the grid it is and then that's your number - i.e., b-23, g-11, and so on and so forth.  It's one stupid way to entertain yourself.  Here's the twist, however.  If a fly (aka "game piece") gets inside the enclosure, and thus behind the grid, he dies, because that's when "Leon" is activated.  Such unruly "game pieces" simply cannot be allowed to remain part of the game and they are dispatched with a snap, crackle, sizzle, sizzle, pop!


We hoped in the dinghy to go check out this supposed waterfront seafood place about a half mile from where we were anchored called B&B Seafood, just a short jaunt up the Mosquito Creek.  It was really funny.  After battling horseflies all the way there, we found a dock with a large shrimp boat tied to it.  So, we tied up and went ashore.  We found no seafood place, but we did find a small office in the building so we went in.  We were greeted by two very nice folks, definitely locals.  This place was really out in the sticks.  We asked if there was any place to take a walk, and we were told, "Well, you could walk up that there road a spell."  So that's what we did.

The main road in this little enclave was dirt.  There was nothing there but this little place, a couple trailers scattered out in the tree laced fields, a volunteer fire department whose insignia was a mosquito with a fire hose nozzle for its nose, and some research facility that appeared new, but otherwise abandoned.  So, we asked about some fresh shrimp, and were told, "There ain't none on a 'cause of the freeze this year."  I was tempted to buy some frozen shrimp - you know, dump a couple bucks into the local economy since they were nice enough to let us use their dock to come ashore, and all that.  But, I realized their five pound boxes of frozen shrimp were probably bait.  So, we politely said we were going to take a walk and pick it up on our way back. 

It was pretty buggy out there, so we didn't walk far.  Do you remember the movie "Phantasm", and that really tall, scary looking dude who basically hung around the mosoleum stuffing aliens into barrels?  Well, I'm convinced this guy was here driving a little red Subaru outback back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, up and down this dirt road.  He must have passed us in both directions several times.  It was pretty funny.  Finally, we had had enough of swating at bugs on the road, so we headed back to the boat, and yes, we bypassed that wonderful offer to purchase five pounds of frozen, peel and eat, bait.

It would seem we picked up a passenger somewhere along the buggy line - a 3" Palmetto Bug.  This nasty bastard, all red and shiny, made his presence known at night when we were going to sleep.  Brenda noticed something was up because the cats were "hunting" in our bed.  Not a good sign, right?  Then, this critter ran over the top of my shoulder and then hit the wall and dove for cover under Brenda's pillows.  Needless to say, Brenda was not pleased.  She moved pretty fast.  In fact, I cannot recall ever seeing her move faster.  In fact, she moved faster than a prairie dog pickin' up scraps under the popcorn cart at the county fair. 

So, then, this bug, large enough to saddle, wedged itself in the wood trim on the side of the bed closest to the hull.  We must have looked pretty funny trying to find this thing.  Pillow, sheets, the half matress, all of it, flying off the bed, and there's me, with a flashlight in one hand and a fondue fork in the other, going after this thing from hell with a true vigor.  Unfortunately, the grimey little gamester got away and slipped into the space under the bed where the starboard side water tank and the exhaust line live.  At that point, Brenda declared she had had all that she could take, picked up her pillows and, for the next 3 nights, slept in the wheelhouse. 

(Ultimately, we did kill that Palmetto Bug from Hell.  We found it snacking in the galley on the crumbs of some croutons I had made.  He died under the spine of a book.  I sure hope that was the only one.  It's not like you can identify them from their license plates, although they are big enough.  I know, you are probably thinking that this guy loves to write about insects - like he is some kind of entemologist, or something.  The truth is, if there were a way to rid the entire planet of all bugs, I'd vote in for sure.  We thought the bugs would be bad in Florida.  Well, welcome to South Carolina.)

Next, we continued our journey to Charleston with a brief stop on the Stono River, just short of Elliott Cut.  We were only a few miles from Charleston but we had a reservation for the Mega Dock, which was for the following day.  We also wanted to get through Elliott Cut on the right sort of tide.  So, we anchored outside of this place called Harbor Yacht Basin.  They allowed us to tie up the dinghy and we did so and went in for lunch at the snack bar on premises.  They have a wonderful pool and the service was good.  The food wasn't bad either.  We didn't do much there as there was nothing to do.  This stop was basically a staging point.  So, in the morning, when the tide was right, we departed for the short run to Charleston City Marina, home of the Mega Dock.

Going through Elliott Cut was one of the most ......... well, interesting rides.  The tide was going out and, unfortunately, was really ripping through there.  I guess we should have left a half hour earlier.  I have been white water rafting.  That is fun.  Now try it on a single screw, full keel trawler.  That was quite a ride.  Many of you know that when you are moving down stream like that, you have no (or very little) control. To make matters even more interesting, it was a slow speed, no wake zone.  So, while I was in basically idle, I was still moving 10.5 knots in the stream, and only applying power to keep the nose of the boat pointed in the right direction.  I would have loved a water cop to stop me for speeding.  Didn't happen, so all's well that ends well.  As you can probably guess, that you are reading this is evidence we didn't have any problem getting through.  A couple bends and a bridge or two and then Charleston came into view.

I'm certain there are few enough words to describe Charleston.  The first that comes to mind, however, is "vibrant."  This town is colorful, tasteful, delightful, wonderful.  It is old and it is new.  It is easy to negotiate.  It is easy to do. 

The city is actually located on a penninsula with the Cooper river on the north/east, and the Ashbury River on the south/west.  Thus, it is obvious that the city had important logistical and strategic purposes when it was established many, many years ago.  This city was here before America was America.  There are fabulous parks where you can look out over the water, see beautiful bridges, and view Fort Sumpter, the place were the first shots of the Civil War were allegely fired.  And, because it is on the water, and surrounded on two sides by water, the climate is well moderated and the weather was perfect.

The Charleston City Marina was very nice.  This place is the home of the Mega Dock - it's over 4000' long and can take anything from small boats to very large ones.  In fact, David Copperfield's boat, "Magic" was there.  It's only about 150' long.  You would think that such a grand magician would make his boat even bigger.  The staff are numerous and all very helpful.  There is a van that will take you pretty much anywhere you want to go and then pick you up.  Taxi's in town, however, are quite inexpensive.

We toured around in Charleston for 3 days, and as far as I am concerned, I absolutely love this city.  I would come back.  I would stay here for a long time.  This town has absolutely everything.  It figures.  It's a university town.  USC (University of South Carolina) is nearby.  The MUSC (Medical University of South Carolina) is there.  Charleston College is there.  The Citadel is there. There is a large technical college there.  And, Clemson is not that far.  In other words, there is an abundance of things to do, festivals every weekend of the year, and other events which serve to entertain and inspire the more than 120,000 university folks (faculty and student body) that come to town.  I have always thought that university towns are more alive than others for the very reasons you can certainly anticipate and appreciate.

The real bonus to our visit to Charleston was our chance to visit my friend Albert.  Albert is the older brother of my best friend Norman.  They both grew up around the corner from where I grew up, and we all became friends nearly 40 years ago.  Their parents are like my parents and they have always been super good to me.  I cannot say enough wonderful things about all the great memories and experiences growing up in their home.  So, we, (Brenda, Albert, and I) had a lot of laughs and recounted some funny memories and stories from the days on Calhoun Street and Albers Street.  Albert was a great City Host and took us to some fine eateries and and on some great walking tours.  Our friends on Love Shack were also in town and so the 5 of us went out and laughed hard over dinner and talk of Pugs.  So, to my friend Albert, I say, thank you very much for a delightful visit.  We will miss you.