Month: April 2011

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Moving Closer to CT

Enjoyed two long travel days, leaving Bonner Bay to arrive at ANOTHER marsh-lined creek, just north of Coinjock, NC, about 3 miles into Virginia.
Sunday we enjoyed the sights along the Pungo and Alligator Rivers. All new scenery, as we’d bypassed this section in favor of a side trip to Roanoke Island in the fall.  The 26 mile long Pungo-Alligator Canal is a man-made stretch that connects the two rivers and allows the ICW to continue. This one, is similar to others in that it is straight with a lovely collection of dead heads (tree stumps) lining both sides.

PungoAllRivr canal

Cruiser's version of Dead Heads

One has the feeling that all is well as long as there are none that you can’t see, hidden just below the water’s surface. Staying in the channel is the name of the game.
We carefully approached a fixed bridge that wasn’t built to 65′- must have been an off day for the architect? It is stated at 64′, but with certain high winds and tides the clearance can go as low as 62′!  We need 63′: 60′ of boat and mast plus 3 feet of wind instruments, VHF and lightning system tube. The height board showed a tad over 64′- phew- and as usual I don’t look up. No point; it always looks like we will hit and I don’t need to race my heart unnecessarily!
Didn’t have much boat company; saw about 6 the entire day. So yes, we are ahead of the pack.  Fall is a more condensed timetable than the Spring schedule; even the peak crowd wouldn’t be overwhelming.
Monday we transited Albemarle Sound, known for its foggy and often rough waters. Say what? Was a clear, calm crossing for Ortolan. This contrasted with the rainy, foggy one we had on the trip south, but only for a short while. The nice thing is that the sound is deep enough not to require a dredged channel, so you can take up whatever space you’d like and not have to worry. Our hopes for sailing across were dashed by the too light winds, although I took advantage of our perfect angle to the sun!   A nice warm 80 degree day; amazing.
Throughout the day the Osprey nest sightings continued and you’d think that we had short-term memory loss the way we got so excited coming upon each one. The camera got a good work-out.

Osprey nest on Marker

A nice home in a good neighborhood

Most nests were very tall and birds could remain well hidden. A couple were only 3-4″ high and I suspected they were under construction given an Osprey was nearby.
Blackwater Creek was our selected home for the night. It had plenty of depth, except at the entrance. We’d read that when southerly winds blew, the depth would increase, but northerly winds could make the entrance closer to 5 feet. Not a problem for us, but even still I was happy to have southerly winds and we crossed the entrance with 6.4 feet under us. I did make note that when we left the next morning with less wind, that the depth was 5 ½ feet.

tug and barge

Floating above the marsh grass

Was eerie to see tugs heading down the waterway, appearing to float on the marsh grasses, their barges barely in sight above the grass tops.

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A Big One!

passing tug and tow

See the wake we're making?

Friday started off with barges; three in all and we were on our toes from the get-go. No sooner did we leave the marina (securely tucked in a basin down a short canal off the ICW), then we saw a tug pushing a long barge behind us. He was moving along and we moved to the edge of the channel to let him pass. Couple miles further we spot a very long “something” up ahead. Binocular inspection reveals that it’s a large tug pulling two sets of long dredge pipes, assisted by a smaller tug with a line attached perpendicular to the pipes, moving along at 1kt. The current was against us and even we with two engines at 2600 rpms barely saw 4.5kts.
By this time, we had 3 small trawlers behind us and a turn to the right was coming up. The tug was way over on the right side of the channel. Ok, here we go. We pushed the engines to 3600 rpms, giving us 6kts and “flew” past the barge; which allowed the boats behind us to do the same, and make the right hand turn before the barge.
Making a note that this is tug and barge territory, what do you suppose happens next? We get close to a bridge and see what appears to be a very tall barge and tug over to one side, not moving. Oh good. Wrong; he’d moved over to the let the first barge who’d passed us earlier, go by and through the bridge first. Then he starts up; we’re last in line behind a few other boats.  Once clear of the bridge, with room to pass, we all go on by. Enough already.
Our anchorage for the night and Saturday was in a wide creek, off a bay off the ICW about 15 miles north of Oriental.  It provided some protection; more trees would have helped, and we were all alone in 8′.  Alone in that we were the only boat, but we had plenty of crab pots for company. The Captain, on a roll with his A game, dropped the Rocna in the middle of a bunch, needing to allow for the fact that we would swing 180 degrees when the wind changed direction.
Darn, but if the forecast didn’t get revised in the morning; now we’d be entertaining 30kt winds, gusting to 35kts, along with the T-storms, oh and toss in a tornado watch for kicks. Time to take action: drop the second anchor to ensure we wouldn’t drag. I was to motor up to a spot to the left of the Rocna, Russ would drop the Fortress and I’d keep the engines in idle to allow us to fall back into place slowly. Easier said than done in 20kt winds, but we got it in only 3 attempts. The system was huge; a slow moving mass of red, greens and ugly purple centers. It stretched as far north as Canada, wider in the northeast than where we sat in North Carolina.  I busied myself with sewing while Russ worked on his summer to-do list (longer than RVW’s beard) and ignored the wind gauge. Why should real numbers get in the way? I much preferred to keep busy and after noting 31kts for the log, I told Russ to note the highest wind speed and tell me on Sunday.
After dinner, the huge porpoise shaped storm arrived, bringing more wind, sky filling lightning, thunder and rain. The sky was lit up for over an hour, but only once did I see (and no, it wasn’t because I was hiding below) a cloud-to-ground lightning bolt.

ugly t storm blob

Uuug-LY- we're near the tip of the nose

The storm, comprised of many blobs, one shaped like a porpoise, did not pass over us directly, we only got the edge. Imagine if we’d gotten it full force! By 10p.m. it was pretty much over, even the wind had calmed down. The highest speed noted was 44kts, and I hope to never experience that again. We did not drag an inch. The Fortress would be a challenge to raise, but that was OK.
Meanwhile, our friends on s/v Sanuk were having their own dance with the elements. On Sunday, during a brief call before we lost phone service (at least someone was concerned about us), they told how they and the 4 other boats anchored with them, had been paid a visit by one of the many tornadoes that had touched down all across North Carolina. OMG.  Down below and the storm apparently over, suddenly they were heeled over, the mast touching water. Dragging 50 ft and only lost a dockline- not the disaster it could have been.  Notice that they use the same “knotical” weather guide as we do: Rope gone= Tornado!