It was worth waiting that day in Vandemere. Instead of a hard windward slog under power, we had a glorious sail. The first short leg was under power to windward since the waters were too confined to go beating about in and we need time to do errands in Oriental. In a little over a mile though, we were motor sailing for another short leg to gain enough room to clear the shoals off Bryan Point where and then it was a sleigh ride. The GPS was showing numbers I never see under power and seldom under sail.
Lee and Lynn had reefed their main while setting and sailed the magenta ICW line on the chart. By carrying full main with heavily reefed jib on the short leg, shaving the navigation just as close as I dared, and rolling out the full jib just as soon as I was able, I offset the greater speed of their longer waterline and turned onto the recommended route line about a quarter mile ahead of them. It was then a very broad reach, just on the edge of being able to keep the jibs full, in gradually lightening wind down to the Oriental entrance channel.
The day was beautiful. They hadn’t shaken out their reef so I ended up luffing and jilling around so they could catch up for a photo session.
You may remember Don from my posts about Cape May. He’s the fellow who was saved from going ashore by the stern anchor I suggest he put out. He was planning on leaving from Cape May and sailing offshore singlehanded to Texas in his 33 foot boat with all of about six weeks of sailing experience. I spent an hour talking him out of it. I told him about the dynamics of the Hattaras weather systems and seeing a 100 foot schooner completely underwater in the Gulf Stream with just the two masts sticking above the water (I was on it). It was a hard sell. He was having engine problems that made the canals difficult and couldn’t afford the fuel to motor all the way home with his new boat. He was in the navy and said he had seen plenty of weather and knew what it could be like out there. “Yes”, I said, “but the waves seem very different when you are looking down at them instead of up.” It was a hard sell but he finally relented.
Don didn’t show up in Chesapeake City with the group of boats that left. He told the couple I had dinner with that he was waiting for dawn to leave. I had a sinking feeling that he was going to persist in the offshore route and just didn’t want to say so. I’ve been wondering ever since what happened to him.
As I was setting the anchor in Oriental, “Strider, Strider, Strider, This is Aurora”, came over the radio. It was Don tied to the town dock. He never left Cape May that morning. The engine quit as soon as he turned around in the channel and he had to use a dinghy oar to paddle the boat back to the slip. He bit the bullet and spent a week getting his engine repaired sufficiently to go through the bays and down the ICW.
Our stay in Oriental was all too brief. Wonderful town that I want to spend some time on the return but we all want to be in the Charleston area for Christmas. We left the next morning along with Don who was headed straight out through Beaufort to start on the offshore route.
Coming out of the land cut into the bay and marshes above Beaufort, I saw fins in the water. These weren’t the little porpoises I see often in my home waters but my very first sighting of dolphins in the wild aboard a boat of my own. They played around the boat, three of them once running alongside packed close enough to reach out and touch and with just inches between them. They seemed to be enjoying the impulses from the prop. It must be like a massage. They also seemed to like to flash their tails above the surface, something I haven't seen porpoises do. Maybe this is a dolphin form of mooning but it was cute and clearly a communication of some sort. This will always be up there on the list of high points for this trip.
We elected to stay in Town Creek instead of more popular and crowded Taylor Creek. It was tight finding an anchor spot clear of the marina and the shoals. I was gingerly feeling my way around with the depth sounder and GPS and had found a spot for two boats. Serendipity/i] went by and called out that it seemed pretty shallow. I said I had 15 feet and turned back to my GPS. Seconds later, I heard behind me a swish and the clunk of a reverse gear. They were firmly aground. Reverse wasn’t pulling them off and I could see the waterline slightly higher at the bow.
The next few minutes were textbook. I quickly set my anchor and grabbed the spare anchor rode I keep flaked in a five gallon bucket in the cockpit locker. It only took moments to throw it in the dinghy, row across, and hand them the end to secure to their quarter cleat. I rowed back to Strider, paying out the line as I went. I also keep a few snap shackle blocks and a snatch block handy in the locker. The anchor rode went through a block snapped to the end of my toe rail and I then put as much tension on it as I could to avoid the inertia of the boat suddenly fetching the line tight. I then signaled Lynn to put their boat in reverse, I ran my engine up to about 1800 and Serendipity slid right off. Putting all the gear away took much longer than the ungrounding.
We then elected to move back up the channel where there was more room and deep water. After picking up mail and some supplies, we spent a very quiet night.
The run through Beaufort the next morning was an eye opener. I’m very impressed with North Carolina and surprised that I don’t hear more about it as a cruising ground. I expect to be spending quite a bit of time here in the future. We saw another pod of dolphins but they were not quite the hams of the bunch we saw the day before.
Serendipity then took the lead for the long run down Bogue Sound. As we motored along under sunny skies with a brisk wind behind us, my attention was suddenly on the radio. The Coast Guard was calling the vessel Aurora. Don was clearly in trouble out in the blue water and evidently seeking assistance getting through an inlet. I only heard the USCG part of the exchanges with their confirmation calls giving me hints of what Dan was saying.
“Seven foot seas”
“24 hours without sleep”
“Are you in distress at this time.”
“Please confirm that you are attempting to enter Carolina Beach Inlet”
I took a quick look at the chart and was not surprised to hear them come back on the radio and say that they did not advise that. They then said, “We’re sending a 41 footer out to guide you in. Suggest you turn north to meet them.”
I called the Coast Guard when we anchored that afternoon and learned that he was safe and last seen heading for the marinas in Masonville. The winds were only in the 25 knot range but another person has learned what that actually means at sea when you are tired and alone in a relatively small craft.
We anchored in the tourist town of Swansboro where strong current runs. When the tide changed, I put out a stern anchor to hold me bow to wind so I would remain comfortable overnight and the cabin heater would draw well. I put out my little kedge since I didn’t feel like dealing with the Fortress. This little 8 pound Danforth held me through quite a strong wind change in Belhaven and was a bear to break out in the morning so I’ve developed some respect for its holding power. I paid for this bit of laziness.
I woke up about 0100 to the amazingly loud sound of water eddying under the forefoot beneath the V berth. I knew instantly that the stern anchor had dragged. Sure enough, after throwing on clothes and going up on deck I found Strider broadside to the current held by both anchors. The rodes were so taut that they felt like steel bars. There was nothing for it but to slack off the main rode and quickly cast off the stern anchor which I was able to move to the bow. It was a near thing getting it made fast before the current pulled it out of my hands. If I had been more awake, I would have buoyed the end first.
I was now in a bad position for the next current change which would carry me down between my two anchors promising a major rat’s nest. I did some mental calculations and figured slack for just before dawn so slept soundly for the rest of the night. I was up before the sun retrieving my stern anchor. This is what I found, the results of just the current in this channel:
Anchor carefully, ye who venture here.
Lee and Lynn had reefed their main while setting and sailed the magenta ICW line on the chart. By carrying full main with heavily reefed jib on the short leg, shaving the navigation just as close as I dared, and rolling out the full jib just as soon as I was able, I offset the greater speed of their longer waterline and turned onto the recommended route line about a quarter mile ahead of them. It was then a very broad reach, just on the edge of being able to keep the jibs full, in gradually lightening wind down to the Oriental entrance channel.
The day was beautiful. They hadn’t shaken out their reef so I ended up luffing and jilling around so they could catch up for a photo session.
You may remember Don from my posts about Cape May. He’s the fellow who was saved from going ashore by the stern anchor I suggest he put out. He was planning on leaving from Cape May and sailing offshore singlehanded to Texas in his 33 foot boat with all of about six weeks of sailing experience. I spent an hour talking him out of it. I told him about the dynamics of the Hattaras weather systems and seeing a 100 foot schooner completely underwater in the Gulf Stream with just the two masts sticking above the water (I was on it). It was a hard sell. He was having engine problems that made the canals difficult and couldn’t afford the fuel to motor all the way home with his new boat. He was in the navy and said he had seen plenty of weather and knew what it could be like out there. “Yes”, I said, “but the waves seem very different when you are looking down at them instead of up.” It was a hard sell but he finally relented.
Don didn’t show up in Chesapeake City with the group of boats that left. He told the couple I had dinner with that he was waiting for dawn to leave. I had a sinking feeling that he was going to persist in the offshore route and just didn’t want to say so. I’ve been wondering ever since what happened to him.
As I was setting the anchor in Oriental, “Strider, Strider, Strider, This is Aurora”, came over the radio. It was Don tied to the town dock. He never left Cape May that morning. The engine quit as soon as he turned around in the channel and he had to use a dinghy oar to paddle the boat back to the slip. He bit the bullet and spent a week getting his engine repaired sufficiently to go through the bays and down the ICW.
Our stay in Oriental was all too brief. Wonderful town that I want to spend some time on the return but we all want to be in the Charleston area for Christmas. We left the next morning along with Don who was headed straight out through Beaufort to start on the offshore route.
Coming out of the land cut into the bay and marshes above Beaufort, I saw fins in the water. These weren’t the little porpoises I see often in my home waters but my very first sighting of dolphins in the wild aboard a boat of my own. They played around the boat, three of them once running alongside packed close enough to reach out and touch and with just inches between them. They seemed to be enjoying the impulses from the prop. It must be like a massage. They also seemed to like to flash their tails above the surface, something I haven't seen porpoises do. Maybe this is a dolphin form of mooning but it was cute and clearly a communication of some sort. This will always be up there on the list of high points for this trip.
We elected to stay in Town Creek instead of more popular and crowded Taylor Creek. It was tight finding an anchor spot clear of the marina and the shoals. I was gingerly feeling my way around with the depth sounder and GPS and had found a spot for two boats. Serendipity/i] went by and called out that it seemed pretty shallow. I said I had 15 feet and turned back to my GPS. Seconds later, I heard behind me a swish and the clunk of a reverse gear. They were firmly aground. Reverse wasn’t pulling them off and I could see the waterline slightly higher at the bow.
The next few minutes were textbook. I quickly set my anchor and grabbed the spare anchor rode I keep flaked in a five gallon bucket in the cockpit locker. It only took moments to throw it in the dinghy, row across, and hand them the end to secure to their quarter cleat. I rowed back to Strider, paying out the line as I went. I also keep a few snap shackle blocks and a snatch block handy in the locker. The anchor rode went through a block snapped to the end of my toe rail and I then put as much tension on it as I could to avoid the inertia of the boat suddenly fetching the line tight. I then signaled Lynn to put their boat in reverse, I ran my engine up to about 1800 and Serendipity slid right off. Putting all the gear away took much longer than the ungrounding.
We then elected to move back up the channel where there was more room and deep water. After picking up mail and some supplies, we spent a very quiet night.
The run through Beaufort the next morning was an eye opener. I’m very impressed with North Carolina and surprised that I don’t hear more about it as a cruising ground. I expect to be spending quite a bit of time here in the future. We saw another pod of dolphins but they were not quite the hams of the bunch we saw the day before.
Serendipity then took the lead for the long run down Bogue Sound. As we motored along under sunny skies with a brisk wind behind us, my attention was suddenly on the radio. The Coast Guard was calling the vessel Aurora. Don was clearly in trouble out in the blue water and evidently seeking assistance getting through an inlet. I only heard the USCG part of the exchanges with their confirmation calls giving me hints of what Dan was saying.
“Seven foot seas”
“24 hours without sleep”
“Are you in distress at this time.”
“Please confirm that you are attempting to enter Carolina Beach Inlet”
I took a quick look at the chart and was not surprised to hear them come back on the radio and say that they did not advise that. They then said, “We’re sending a 41 footer out to guide you in. Suggest you turn north to meet them.”
I called the Coast Guard when we anchored that afternoon and learned that he was safe and last seen heading for the marinas in Masonville. The winds were only in the 25 knot range but another person has learned what that actually means at sea when you are tired and alone in a relatively small craft.
We anchored in the tourist town of Swansboro where strong current runs. When the tide changed, I put out a stern anchor to hold me bow to wind so I would remain comfortable overnight and the cabin heater would draw well. I put out my little kedge since I didn’t feel like dealing with the Fortress. This little 8 pound Danforth held me through quite a strong wind change in Belhaven and was a bear to break out in the morning so I’ve developed some respect for its holding power. I paid for this bit of laziness.
I woke up about 0100 to the amazingly loud sound of water eddying under the forefoot beneath the V berth. I knew instantly that the stern anchor had dragged. Sure enough, after throwing on clothes and going up on deck I found Strider broadside to the current held by both anchors. The rodes were so taut that they felt like steel bars. There was nothing for it but to slack off the main rode and quickly cast off the stern anchor which I was able to move to the bow. It was a near thing getting it made fast before the current pulled it out of my hands. If I had been more awake, I would have buoyed the end first.
I was now in a bad position for the next current change which would carry me down between my two anchors promising a major rat’s nest. I did some mental calculations and figured slack for just before dawn so slept soundly for the rest of the night. I was up before the sun retrieving my stern anchor. This is what I found, the results of just the current in this channel:
Anchor carefully, ye who venture here.
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