Loop Leg 2

On Monday June 2 at 6:55AM the Cap'n threw the stern line into the cockpit, hopped aboard and we were off on leg two of our Great Loop adventure. The Chesapeake Bay was calm and quiet as we headed north towards the C&D canal where we picked up our friend and reliable crew member Al. He is known for his "James Bond" arrivals and this was no different.  The Cap'n brought Freedom alongside the dock and within seconds Al, his overnight bag and three spherical fenders were on board -- no lines needed.

The seas remained calm as we rode along the canal and into the Delaware Bay. The wind and waves picked up a bit as we approached the ocean, and to my disappointment, continued to build throughout the afternoon.  I have learned my offshore limitations over the years so I remained in the saloon,  anti-sea sickness patch set firmly behind my ear, while Al and the Cap'n steered from the Pilot House.

Day turned to night as Freedom paralleled the beach and we enjoyed watching the bright lights, Ferris Wheels, roller coasters, boardwalks, hotels and casinos that dot the Jersey Shore.  I fell asleep by 9 in anticipation of  middle of the night watch duty, but the call never came. Instead, Al and the Cap'n took turns on watch and navigation duties while Ham and I slumbered in the saloon (ie, the boat living room).

27 hours after leaving Worton Creek, MD we arrived at Atlantic Highlands Municipal Harbor NJ. Ham and I ran up the dock (totally rebuilt after Sandy) to find a tree; Al gathered his things and called for a cab to take him to a southbound train; and the Cap'n started to fill the fuel and water tanks.

We won't be taking another overnight trip until we reach the Gulf of Mexico in November. For that I am thankful. Even though I did not stand watch, such trips are tiring and tend to mess up your body clock. From now on it will be short day trips, many of them punctuated by locks.

Next stop: Jersey City and a ringside view of the New York skyline

Atlantic Highlands, NJ anchorage
June 4, 2014

The Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Night at Carolina Beach

Bloggers are often criticized for putting a happy face on their posts. This is not one of those.....

The first few days of our Great Loop adventure were filled with blue skies, calm waters and little traffic. A night at the Myrtle Beach Yacht Club  after our second day of travel gave us all a chance to stretch our legs. After walking up to 4 miles a day just to get the dog to shore in Charleston it felt a bit funny to have long sedentary days as we motored north.

At the end of each day we review the charts and determine how far we want or need to go the following day. Our preference is to find a quiet anchorage not too far off the ICW that will offer us enough swing room, and protection from winds and passing boat traffic.  Lacking that, or if we need to get off the boat and walk or provision, we look for a marina.  There are certain spots along the route where anchorages and marinas are found every 10 - 20 miles -- and other stretches that require us to travel at least 70-80 miles before we can stop.  Our goal for this first leg of our Loop -- a route we have traveled many time -- was to vary our routine and explore new towns and anchorages.

Friday April 18th offered two options:   travel for just a few hours and stop at a marina in Southport, NC or keep going and find an anchorage further north. It was just after 10 am when we approached Southport, and it seemed too early to stop. About noon we decided to stop at the anchorage off of Carolina Beach, NC.  Our guide books and online reviews showed ample water depths and anchorage space, and as experienced "anchorers" we entered the harbor easily and found ourselves alone in the anchorage, surrounded by single family homes, condos and docks.  Soon, the weather started to turn -- the winds picked up and a light rain fell -- and we were happy to be tucked up and safe.

As the winds built through the afternoon we kept an eye on our position, watching for any anchor drag.  We knew it would be a bumpy and noisy night as the winds blustered the flying bridge bimini structure, but we felt secure on our anchor when we went to sleep just after 10pm.

Thump! 'What was that?' I said before even opening my eyes. 'Not sure,' replied the Cap'n. And what's that? I wondered realizing that a bright light was shining into our stateroom window. Feet on the floor and up the steps in seconds it looked to me that a large work platform was along our port side.  I waited for shouts or activity from whomever was on this structure, guessing they had hit us, but there was no sign of life. Then the Cap'n brought me into focus -- 'That's a dock -- we dragged.'  It was 12:14 am.

The Cap'n started the engine and ran to the bow to raise the anchor. I took my position at the wheel and following his hand signals steered us away from the dock and back towards the anchorage. It was pouring and pitch black out. Your classic dark and stormy night. Did I mention the anchorage featured a few sandbars that came and went with the tides?

Slowly, following the track on our navigation system, we returned to our original anchorage. What could we do? It was dark, completely dark, pouring down rain and the middle of the night. We had held there for at least 10 hours, and all we needed was 5 to get us to daybreak.

The anchor set, but we weren't comfortable. Wide awake, but unsettled. Coffee was made along with a plan:  the Cap'n would try to get some sleep in the saloon while I watched our position on the nav system in the pilot house.  Two hours passed quickly while I read the New York Times and played several rounds of Scramble -- all with a watchful eye the computer screen and landmarks on shore. We were moving, but slowly.

I dashed to the galley to refill my water glass and returned to realized our steady drag had turned onto a gallop. Oh **#@&^% I exclaimed, and the Cap'n was on his way... It was 3:20 AM

Back out in the rain and wind he went to raise the anchor. Where to now, we mused.

Still dark, still raining, still surrounded by hidden sandbars all we could do was return to the anchorage. It was my turn to sleep while the Cap'n stood watch.

Before long the rain diminished and dawn broke. I woke up about 5:30 and we decided to try our luck at grabbing a mooring so we could catch some quality shut eye. Off I went to the bow, boat hook in hand, ready to snag the mooring ball and secure it to a bow line. Truth be told: I hate the mooring dance. I suppose I don't do it enough to be as confident and capable as I need to be, but even then, I might still hate it. Two attempts to grab the line attached to the mooring were full of expletives and nearly successful. The third attempt found me wedged between the rail and the deck reaching desperately for the illusive ( and slimy) loop at the end of the mooring line. I turned my head ever so slightly and into the water went my hat: My prized 2009 Sundance Film Festival hat! There were other moorings to catch in that harbour, but there were no more 2009 Sundance Film Festival hats to be had. And I was mad! Mad, tired, cold, wet and I HAD HAD ENOUGH - I was getting that hat!!

I stood up, motioned to the confused Cap'n to head to starboard, then port, back to starboard -- the hat dip and dodged but remained afloat. After a brief disappearance beneath the bow, it popped up mid-ship to port and I was there with my hook. Success!

The Sundance Hat -- wet but with me...

I had my hat, the sky was brightening  and we abandoned the mooring field - heading instead to another (hopefully better) anchorage. No such luck. After 20 minutes we pulled anchor once again and headed for the ICW, fueled by coffee and the promise of a secure slip in a Wrightsville Beach Marina a few hours away.


It was 11:17 AM when we tied the last cleat and I jumped onshore to take Ham for a walk. Lunch and a long nap followed in quick succession. It had been a terrible horrible no good very bad night, but we were safe, and there were hush puppies on the marina restaurant dinner menu...

SHORE LEAVE

We're on Shore Leave now....seeing our Dr's, dentist, hairdresser, vet, groomer, family, friends, house etc -- while Freedom gets her bottom painted

More to come to early June as we continue Loopin' it...( and maybe more stories before that)

The Great Dismal Swamp Canal or When You Come to a Fork in the Road, Take It!

FREEDOM on the Swamp

"When you come to a fork in the road, take it"..... Yogi Berra

We have always wanted to take the fork in the ICW that leads you north, not through the Virginia Cut, but through the Great Dismal Swamp Canal.  Water depth, bridge closings, and time constraints have held us back before, but this year we were determined to give it a go.  First though, a little history and etymology.

"Dismal" was originally another word for 'swamp.'  In essence, then, The Great Dismal Swamp is The Great Swamp Swamp. Not sure when the meaning changed or why 'Dismal' continues to be used in the name of the region, and while some swamps may be dismal ( in the new sense of the word) this one was anything but during our passage.

Spanning the North Carolina/Virginia border along the ICW, 40,000 acres of the Great Dismal Swamp were once partly owned by George Washington. In 1763 he proposed draining the swamp, harvesting the valuable cypress and cedar trees for use in shipbuilding and shingles and using the cleared area as farm land.  Washington supervised the digging of the ditch. 30 years later Washington attempted to sell his share to "Lighthorse" Harry E Lee, father of Robert E Lee.  The deal fell through and Washington and his heirs owned the land until 1909. The, the Union Camp Company purchased the swamp and harvested virgin timber until 1950 when the last tree was cut down. In 1973 the Great Dismal Swamp National Wildlife Refuge was created when the company donated its swamp holding.

The Halfway House Hotel (circa 1820) once stood along the canal. It was known to be a favorite spot for " marriages, duels and those escaping the law." {Dozier's Waterway Guide}. It is said Edgar Allan Poe wrote The Raven while a guest at the hotel. Another piece of history echoing along the canal: Jane Adams' Floating Theatre. Although her musical Showboat is set along the Mississippi, Edna Ferber gained her inspiration from Ms. Adams traveling troupe.

After catching the 7:30 AM opening of the Elizabeth City bridge last Wednesday morning we traveled along the Elizabeth river in company with two other power boats and one sailing vessel.  Just past the bridge it was another world: a serene waterway, flat calm and quiet.  Our lead boats would come and go from view as we twisted and turned along tree lined banks.We motored at just under 5 knots, as much to limit our wake as to limit sudden encounters with logs and other debris floating along the bottom.  As we drifted silently along a call came on the radio," Freedom, this is Seneca 2, we have an eagle above us, keep an eye out."  Soon, there it was: spreading its substantial wings as it drifted across the waterway and into the trees.  Turtle sighting were plenty, sunning themselves on logs. Some alone, some in pairs. Our favorite was a red-bellied turtle who ducked below the surface before I could capture a photo. This pair was in less of a hurry......

We arrived at South Mills with just a few minutes to spare before the 11AM locking.  It had been a while since we "locked up" but it all went well.  All  in all we rose 8 feet from the Elizabeth River to the Great Dismal Swamp Canal.

Technical problems captioning each photo -- so from top to bottom:

• Last in the Lock -- we just fit!
• Doors Closing ( note water height)
• Locking Up -- see the black lines crossing the passage way? The Cap'n was doing double duty holding the bow line and keeping FREEDOM in place by operating the thrusters from the pilot house
• 8 feet up!
• Where we were and Where we were going

 Just before arriving we changed spots in our mini boat parade to allow our fellow travelers a quick departure from the lock allowing them the next chance to arrive at the next lock in a timely fashion.  All three boats ahead of us were planning to traverse the canal in one day. We decided to take our time and stop at the Dismal Swamp Welcome Center about mid-way through the canal. Although I had read all about the center and the nearby walking trails and swamp museum I somehow missed the point that it was not just a Dismal Swamp Welcome Center, but a North Carolina Welcome Center. Translation: we were docking just south of the state line at a NC Highway 17 rest stop -- complete with rest rooms, vending machines and a gift shop chock full of brochures and tchotchkes. So, look to the right: a parking lot Look to the left: Mother Nature in her glory.  After about 30 minutes and numerous faces peering into our windows while we tried to eat lunch we lowered the blinds and had a laugh.  By late afternoon the car traffic subsided and we had a restful evening.

The following day we were off the dock by 7:30 to once again catch the 11AM locking at the other end of the swamp.  It was there, at the Deep Creek Lock that we met lock tender extraordinaire: Robert.  His personality, extensive knowledge of the swamp, Norfolk and Portsmouth, and large collection of conch shells made for a quick and delightful passage through the lock. At 20 years he is still the newest employee in Great Dismal Swamp Refuge. Robert simultaneously operates the bridge south of the lock and the lock. At each of the four lock openings each day he opens the lock for southbound traffic,then once that is completed he gets in his car, drives the 1/4 mile to the Deep Creek Bascule bridge, and lifts the bridge allowing the southbound and then northbound boats to pass. Promptly, he gets back into his car drives back to the lock and  locks up the northbound traffic.  And, in our case, even plays a tune on a conch shell.  He is full service and quite memorable.

Conch Shell Garden outside Lock Tender's Cottage

Before long we were entering the chaos of the Norfolk Harbor, and wondering when we can go through the Dismal Swamp Canal again.  More scenes from the Swamp:

Our First Loop Visitors

My college roommate Alyson and her husband Larry were our first Loop visitors. They braved high winds, rain, tornado warnings, and a treacherous entry across the swim platform to join us for an on board dinner in Portsmouth, VA. In honor of their bravery, I think they deserve a dedicated blog entry

Larry on the Loop
He had lots of stories to tell about a few spots along the Loop where he had posted while in the Coast Guard

Alyson -- who has found the fountain of youth

We're looking forward to more visitors along the way --they may not get their own post, but they will get our attention!

Through the Carolinas....Miles 75-265

Portside Marina, Morehead City, NC

Times flies when you are on the ICW. The days (and some of the nights) are a blur since my last post. Myrtle Beach, Carolina Beach, Wrightsville Beach, Morehead City. Inlets: Lockwoods Folly, Shallotte, Little River, Masonboro, Bogue. New River, Little River, Cape Fear River, Waccamaw River. Rain, wind, more wind, sun. Guidebooks, paper charts, electronic charts. Planning. Bascule bridges, swing bridges, highway bridges: Surf City, Onslow Beach, Figure Eight, Barefoot Landing.  Waiting for bridge openings, rushing to catch an opening. Passing other boats, being passed by boats. Tugs, barges, speed boats, fishing boats, trawlers, sailboats. Shoaling. Docking lines, fenders, anchoring. Sunrises, sunsets. Dolphins. Dog walks.

That pretty much sums up our days and nights.  This route is familiar to us. It is our fourth northbound trip from the Carolinas to the Chesapeake Bay.  We have chosen a few new anchorages and marinas just to mix it up a bit, and the ever changing depths and channel markers at the inlets certainly keep the navigation interesting. Yet, we find ourselves ticking off the miles in something of a rush to reach the Chesapeake Bay. We vow to each other that the next legs of our Loop will not be like this -- we will have shorter travel days and longer days at anchor. We will take time to stop and explore new towns,  to meet new people.

For now, though, we press forward.......

And We're Off..... (Mile 1-74)

At 7:05 this morning, Wednesday April 16, 2014, the Cap'n released the spring line, jumped aboard and we were off on our Great Loop Adventure. It was a cold and windy but sunny start.  The fenders hung over the side and the lines lay uncoiled on the decks while we rounded the Battery and I caught my last glimpses of the Charleston waterfront. We had a great winter in the Low Country and it was a bittersweet departure.

We soon fell into the rhythm of life on the IntraCoastal Waterway:coffee in the pilot house, the Cap'n at the helm;  weather, departure time, engine hours recorded in the boat log; while marshes, waterfront homes, and wildlife passed along the shore. The Gulls escorted us across the harbor and a good ways along the Winyah Bay. Pelicans soared and dove in all directions.

Tonight we are anchored behind Butler Island on the Wacamaw River -- about 75 miles north of Charleston, It is a quiet spot, the stars are out and we are alone in the anchorage. It was good start.......