Barbara flew home after a couple of days of enjoying Beaufort and a rental car trip to Savanna. The cruising guide rates Savanna as their favorite of the four urban centers in the area, Georgetown, Charleston, Beaufort, being the others. I would rate Beaufort as my favorite once on shore. The anchorage is poor and the cost of the marina painful although I enjoyed it as much as I do any marina, which is not much. Savanna is way off the track and not boater friendly. I can’t imagine ever stopping there by boat. Georgetown wins hands down as far as being friendly and convenient for cruisers and has streets nearly as charming as Beaufort’s once the Live Oaks hide the steel and paper plants.
A friend of Lee and Lynn’s flew in the day Barbara left. They had an agenda of city activities and another trip to Savanna planned. It would have been fun to join them but I was already hearing little cries of distress from my wallet so I decided to sail on, do some exploring, and let them catch up with me next year. I thus headed out for the first time since Hampton, VA without another boat in company to keep track of and coordinate with.
It was a good decision. I motored down around the peninsula to look at Beaufort’s Cinderella sister, Port Royal. There was a nice collection of fishing boats which appealed to me but the abandoned marinas and cement plant gave it a rather desolate air. There was nothing desolate about the breeze that was rising out of the 65 degree air and I did something I’ve hardly done since Hampton, raised the sails.
The wind gradually backed and rose so I was soon beating leisurely down the Beaufort River in just enough wind to make the sailing pleasant with minimal effort handling the jib. The tide was against me and the SOG often dipped below two knots on the GPS but I didn’t mind a bit. It just seemed to be extending a beautiful sail accompanied by an impressive crackle of small arms from marines training on Parris Island.
The sea breeze was rising when I rounded Parris Spit and I went racing across Port Royal Sound on a six and a half knot broad reach. Mortar practice had evidently begun and a hollow boom began to punctuate the rifle fire.
I ran up the Chechessne River a ways into strong current. Careful planning had let me round Parris Island just as the tide changed so as to extend this delightful sail. However, the sun was getting low and I wanted to enjoy what promised (and more than lived up to it) to be a wonderful sunset so I started the engine.
Being at anchor, alone with the marsh and Live Oaks felt much like the first day of most cruises when you have left friends and shore behind. Cruising in company with another boat has been an unexpected and delightful aspect of the southern portion of this journey. I look forward to many more miles and dinners with Lee and Lynn but I am thoroughly enjoying ending the year with this interlude of cruising as I’ve usually done it.
I’ll celebrate the New Year tonight as I have every one this millennium except the first, sound asleep.
A friend of Lee and Lynn’s flew in the day Barbara left. They had an agenda of city activities and another trip to Savanna planned. It would have been fun to join them but I was already hearing little cries of distress from my wallet so I decided to sail on, do some exploring, and let them catch up with me next year. I thus headed out for the first time since Hampton, VA without another boat in company to keep track of and coordinate with.
It was a good decision. I motored down around the peninsula to look at Beaufort’s Cinderella sister, Port Royal. There was a nice collection of fishing boats which appealed to me but the abandoned marinas and cement plant gave it a rather desolate air. There was nothing desolate about the breeze that was rising out of the 65 degree air and I did something I’ve hardly done since Hampton, raised the sails.
The wind gradually backed and rose so I was soon beating leisurely down the Beaufort River in just enough wind to make the sailing pleasant with minimal effort handling the jib. The tide was against me and the SOG often dipped below two knots on the GPS but I didn’t mind a bit. It just seemed to be extending a beautiful sail accompanied by an impressive crackle of small arms from marines training on Parris Island.
The sea breeze was rising when I rounded Parris Spit and I went racing across Port Royal Sound on a six and a half knot broad reach. Mortar practice had evidently begun and a hollow boom began to punctuate the rifle fire.
I ran up the Chechessne River a ways into strong current. Careful planning had let me round Parris Island just as the tide changed so as to extend this delightful sail. However, the sun was getting low and I wanted to enjoy what promised (and more than lived up to it) to be a wonderful sunset so I started the engine.
Being at anchor, alone with the marsh and Live Oaks felt much like the first day of most cruises when you have left friends and shore behind. Cruising in company with another boat has been an unexpected and delightful aspect of the southern portion of this journey. I look forward to many more miles and dinners with Lee and Lynn but I am thoroughly enjoying ending the year with this interlude of cruising as I’ve usually done it.
I’ll celebrate the New Year tonight as I have every one this millennium except the first, sound asleep.
