It was a dull, flat day, pregnant with unfulfilled rain although I was glad of only a few sprinkling showers and calm water. I’ve become so familiar with this part of the world and the routes that I didn’t feel the need today to look around much except as navigation required.
Two dolphins did come to play. I think very young ones because they just jumped in the wake and seemed mystified why they couldn’t zoom along without stirring a fin as I’m sure they’ve seen their elders do. Otherewise, Strider droned along, my mind droned along. The day passed.
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About $40.00 worth of diesel fuel, brought me to Georgetown at the end of a 45 nm day. I started the computer while running up the river and looked at the weather which promises a stiff wind blowing right down the long straight reach up into the Cypress swamps. While filling the tank with my planned anchorage only a couple hundred feet away, my tired mind realized that I had a choice. I could run up the river in flat calm water with a flood tide boosting the SOG to over 7 knots or I could fight my way up in wind against tide chop tomorrow, ducking spray, squinting into the wind, and looking at GPS numbers under 5. It was an easy decision, even at the end of an already long day.
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I ran up the river another 12 miles in the darkening afternoon and was rewarded with the beauty of this anchorage which the late, flat light of this dying day only seemed to enhance.
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I’m now at mile 389, 27% of the way to Norfolk. Tomorrow is all narrow river and land cuts where the wind will not be an issue. There is a good chance I will be writing from North Carolina tomorrow night.
Two dolphins did come to play. I think very young ones because they just jumped in the wake and seemed mystified why they couldn’t zoom along without stirring a fin as I’m sure they’ve seen their elders do. Otherewise, Strider droned along, my mind droned along. The day passed.
[FONT="] [/FONT]
About $40.00 worth of diesel fuel, brought me to Georgetown at the end of a 45 nm day. I started the computer while running up the river and looked at the weather which promises a stiff wind blowing right down the long straight reach up into the Cypress swamps. While filling the tank with my planned anchorage only a couple hundred feet away, my tired mind realized that I had a choice. I could run up the river in flat calm water with a flood tide boosting the SOG to over 7 knots or I could fight my way up in wind against tide chop tomorrow, ducking spray, squinting into the wind, and looking at GPS numbers under 5. It was an easy decision, even at the end of an already long day.
[FONT="] [/FONT]
I ran up the river another 12 miles in the darkening afternoon and was rewarded with the beauty of this anchorage which the late, flat light of this dying day only seemed to enhance.
[FONT="] [/FONT]
I’m now at mile 389, 27% of the way to Norfolk. Tomorrow is all narrow river and land cuts where the wind will not be an issue. There is a good chance I will be writing from North Carolina tomorrow night.
