Our little fleet left the visitors center on the canal shortly after dawn; two boats bound together by the camaraderie of the shared adventures and several wonderful meals in the days before. Two other boats were bound to us by the inflexible schedule of the locks but it was only a fleeting attachment.
The South Mills Lock was a tranquil descent without the in rush of water. It was also quick and efficient with a taciturn lockmaster and we were quickly in the short cut that runs to the winding natural river. The Pasquotank is lined with cypress swamps and, even under hazy skies without the piercing light of the previous day; I was having an intense reaction to the passing view.
The Dismal Swamp is beautiful but is an overlapping of northern and southern ecology so largely familiar. The cypress trees here, running back as far as I could see through them, thick enough it would be hard to penetrate with a dinghy, but wet enough that walking would be impossible, told this northern boy that he had finally arrived in the true south.
It was a relief to be running again in waters wide enough not to worry about losing my masthead gear to a tree branch. We stopped and anchored at Goat Island for lunch and called Lambs Marina where we hoped to refuel and fill water tanks. They had just one slip deep enough for the fuel truck to reach us so we would fuel one after the other.
My net friends from down under, who I had not yet met, were at Lambs. I had emailed them in the morning to tell them of our plans to stop there and we expected to catch up with them in Elizabeth City. These are the folks I had seen in Reedville without knowing whose boat it was and who passed Strider at the Feeder Canal. The marina called back and said they couldn’t accommodate us because the sailboat in the deep slip had decided to stay another day so we pushed on to Elizabeth City.
When we docked, the fellow who took my lines had that distinctive accent. Sure enough, it was Terry and Carol. We finally met . They had come down in their dinghy from the marina for lunch after deciding to stay another day at Lambs so they could meet us there, the law of unintended consequences.
We pooled our resources and rented a car the next day for about the price of a meal ashore. Multiple trips to the gas station with jerry cans for fuel, huge laundry loads, a run to Walmart for more water hose, and a huge food resupply were effortless.
This city loves boaters and these boaters love this little city. We were moored right on the town waterfront park and people walking by just a few feet from the boats would stop and tell us how glad they were to have us there. We waited out a day of wind and rain and then had a Thanksgiving dinner with just the three of us stuffing ourselves with turkey and pie in Serendipity’s cabin. I can’t remember a pleasanter or more relaxing turkey day.
In a couple hours, we head off across Albemarle Sound with a near perfect weather forecast. We have several days of travel through remote areas ahead of us. Planning routes yesterday morning, the scale of our trip began to sink in. Those several days look very small when you zoom out the map on the laptop. South Carolina covers nearly as much distance as the whole state of Maine. It’s a bit more intimidating for Lee and Lynn who hope to get to the Bahamas than it is for me. I’ve already reached my destination.
Lee and Lynn's blog:
http://www.sailblogs.com/member/serendipitysjourney/
It's going to be a sad day when their commitment to host family and friends in the Bahamas and my desire to explore slowly finally bring us to parting. This cruising in company is entirely new to me and an utterly delightful way to travel; especially with people who have become such great friends.
The South Mills Lock was a tranquil descent without the in rush of water. It was also quick and efficient with a taciturn lockmaster and we were quickly in the short cut that runs to the winding natural river. The Pasquotank is lined with cypress swamps and, even under hazy skies without the piercing light of the previous day; I was having an intense reaction to the passing view.
The Dismal Swamp is beautiful but is an overlapping of northern and southern ecology so largely familiar. The cypress trees here, running back as far as I could see through them, thick enough it would be hard to penetrate with a dinghy, but wet enough that walking would be impossible, told this northern boy that he had finally arrived in the true south.
It was a relief to be running again in waters wide enough not to worry about losing my masthead gear to a tree branch. We stopped and anchored at Goat Island for lunch and called Lambs Marina where we hoped to refuel and fill water tanks. They had just one slip deep enough for the fuel truck to reach us so we would fuel one after the other.
My net friends from down under, who I had not yet met, were at Lambs. I had emailed them in the morning to tell them of our plans to stop there and we expected to catch up with them in Elizabeth City. These are the folks I had seen in Reedville without knowing whose boat it was and who passed Strider at the Feeder Canal. The marina called back and said they couldn’t accommodate us because the sailboat in the deep slip had decided to stay another day so we pushed on to Elizabeth City.
When we docked, the fellow who took my lines had that distinctive accent. Sure enough, it was Terry and Carol. We finally met . They had come down in their dinghy from the marina for lunch after deciding to stay another day at Lambs so they could meet us there, the law of unintended consequences.
We pooled our resources and rented a car the next day for about the price of a meal ashore. Multiple trips to the gas station with jerry cans for fuel, huge laundry loads, a run to Walmart for more water hose, and a huge food resupply were effortless.
This city loves boaters and these boaters love this little city. We were moored right on the town waterfront park and people walking by just a few feet from the boats would stop and tell us how glad they were to have us there. We waited out a day of wind and rain and then had a Thanksgiving dinner with just the three of us stuffing ourselves with turkey and pie in Serendipity’s cabin. I can’t remember a pleasanter or more relaxing turkey day.
In a couple hours, we head off across Albemarle Sound with a near perfect weather forecast. We have several days of travel through remote areas ahead of us. Planning routes yesterday morning, the scale of our trip began to sink in. Those several days look very small when you zoom out the map on the laptop. South Carolina covers nearly as much distance as the whole state of Maine. It’s a bit more intimidating for Lee and Lynn who hope to get to the Bahamas than it is for me. I’ve already reached my destination.
Lee and Lynn's blog:
http://www.sailblogs.com/member/serendipitysjourney/
It's going to be a sad day when their commitment to host family and friends in the Bahamas and my desire to explore slowly finally bring us to parting. This cruising in company is entirely new to me and an utterly delightful way to travel; especially with people who have become such great friends.
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