Anchored at Upper Rock Creek

The route today was filled with southern plantation homes and docks along the waterway and wide open rivers, as well as some narrow creeks and man made cutoffs. We're now anchored at Upper Rock Creek, about 45 miles down the ICW from Charleston. Like Minim Creek, it's a very remote spot with nothing but marsh all around us. The view of the night sky is majestic, and could even compare to the northern lights they said appeared over New Jersey this evening.

The water around us is between nine to 12 feet, and the marshy shore is about 100 feet away on either side. We were going to go up the creek to deeper water, but the low tide revealed a sandbar that was too large to risk navigating past. After settling in, another dolphin passed right by our boat, and later a small boat with about five people on it passed from up the creek. That seems to be a common sight around here, as are the dolphins.

Being in the middle of nowhere doesn't mean we can't have modern conveniences though. For dinner Captain Ken cooked up pasta with meat sauce, and we watched Raiders of the Lost Arc with power from the generator. We have the peace and quiet of camping with the creature comforts of our own home.

Tomorrow we will cruise past Beufort and Port Royal, SC before crossing the Georgia border. We don't know exactly where we'll anchor or when we'll settle in because another storm is forecast for the evening tomorrow. The idea is to be settled in well before that.

To Charleston

A thunderstorm passed through last night and the sky was overcast most of the day, with winds gusting up to 30 knots. The weather made us hesitate leaving Minim Creek, but we took the risk and headed for Charleston at about 11 a.m. When we left we had the whole waterway to ourselves for miles, that is if you don’t count the pelicans and cormorants flying around our boat, and the dolphins swimming all around us. There were dolphins everywhere today due to our closer vicinity to ocean inlets. We saw at least a dozen on the waterway, and never got tired of seeing them. 

With perpetual high winds we passed the small fishing village of McClelanville, another small seaside village called Andersonville and the Isle of Palms, a resort island between the waterway and the ocean.

Towards the end of the day we arrived at Charleston Harbor. Even though it seemed easy to navigate on the charts we studied, it actually wound up being the most difficult part of the trip so far. The vastness of the harbor is immediately misleading, because there are sandbars to the right as soon as you enter from the north. Also, the ICW markers on the harbor are few and far between, and they're mixed in with quite a few other markers indicating a route out to the ocean. The current and high winds from the ocean also add to this obstacle course to Charleston. Barges coming in and out of the international port just add to the challenge. One did in fact pass right in front of us as we crossed the harbor.

We got to our destination, Charleston City Marina, at a reasonable time, about 6:30 p.m. The marina has everything we need, so although we may not have the remote quietness we had last night, we are enjoying many more conveniences, like shore power and bathroom facilities. If you want to know how the rich live, just take a stroll down the mega dock of this marina, where all kinds of mega yachts are docked. The pleasure boats make 46-foot Avalon look like a humble dinghy. Dolphins seem to like it here too. In fact I just saw another inside the marina.

I've always heard that Charleston, SC is among the most beautiful cities in the country. The so called "Holy City" with church steeples dominating its skyline seemed to call out from across the harbor as soon as our naked eyes could see it through the grey sky. We will have a pleasant short stay here tomorrow and will leave for Beufort/Port Royal late tomorrow morning.  

Bye Bye Barefoot Marina, Bahamas here we come

We left at about 7 a.m. this morning with the sunrise behind us, navigated through some early fog and had mostly clear skies all the way down to our Day 1 anchorage spot, Minim Creek, about 60 miles down the Intracoastal Waterway from Barefoot Marina. So, we’re finally underway.

Minim Creek is a very secluded area with the only sign of civilization being the flashing red marker on the ICW about a half mile away. The creek is the ideal spot to drop anchor off the waterway. The area we’re in is protected from the winds by trees on both sides, and the depth is about ten feet.

While we were looking for just the right spot to end our day, a pod of dolphins swam around our boat. One actually came right next to the bow as we were getting ready to drop anchor.

While en route to our destination, about 20 miles from Barefoot Marina, we saw two swans swim right by the boat and then come together to touch beaks, their necks and beaks thereby forming the shape of a heart. It was a sight for our weary eyes as we were just starting to really wake up.

The wind was at between 15 to 20 knots for most of the way, but around Georgetown, SC the ocean's current increased our speed by about 2 knots, bringing us up to 10 at times when we only set the throttle at 8 knots.

So we cruised about 60 miles in approximately 7 hours, arriving at Minim Creek at 2 p.m. It’s been a long day and we’re running on generator power, so I have to log off now. Keep following our travels. We feel as if you’re cruising with us. Tomorrow's destination is Charleston, about 50 miles away. The distance is shorter than today's but the weather is expected to be a bit stormy tomorrow, so that will probably slow us down a bit.

                                            The ICW around Bucksport. Captain Ken photos

Cruising on the ICW

Combo Bridge between Myrtle Beach and Bucksport

Swan along the ICW

Looking out from our first anchorage at Minim Creek

Bad weather and tourists don't bother me

More and more boaters are heading back north after their winter journeys southward down the ICW, and in the meantime we're still experiencing winter-like weather for South Carolina here at Barefoot Marina. The past few days have been exceptionally cold, rainy and windy, not good conditions for boating, but a few venturous captains chose to brave the choppy waters anyway. Others chose to tie up at the nearest marina and wait out the stormy weather.

Today, while it was unseasonably cold, in the 40s, it was rather calm and dry -- so all the boaters who waited the storms out were found coming back up the waterway. The Barefoot Landing Bridge right upstream from us opened at least five times today already, which is probably the most times since I've been here. Watching the boats go by has become a hobby of ours, an occasion to take a short break from whatever work we're doing. Each boat is unique and tells its own story, and they're not all yachtsmen and sports boaters. Occasionally we see a tug boat go by, or a commercial fisherman. It's always neat to see their hailing port painted on their stern; unlike the standard license plate it's always painted with aesthetic character. The commercial fishing boats and tug boats are always a welcomed sight from our standpoint, not only because of the rarity but also because they know how to slow down and don't rock our boat by speeding through the no wake zone around us.

Spring breakers are plenty around here at this time too. When Captain Ken first came here a few months ago he said he didn't see the need for a three lane highway for North Kings Highway. Now whenever we drive somewhere there's traffic at every stop light. But who can blame them for coming here for their vacation? There are attractions at just about every corner. That's just fine though. Our marina is still just like a peaceful neighborhood with a river in the back yard, so why do I care how many tourists come here? After all, I am one too.

Getting used to maritime culture

Slowly but surely I'm becoming more familiar with the ways of the sea, maritime culture and the part that culture plays in the story of all of us. Much of this is because I have a living encyclopedia for an uncle in Captain Ken. In our cold and windy Barefoot Marina, he's told me stories made at sea -- some he was a part of, others that have made history. Either way, slowly those stories are becoming a new part of me.

Perhaps many already know the influence the imperial British Navy has had on a variety of popular expressions of our day, for example. Being a part of the naval fleet for an empire upon which the sun never set, British sailors had it tough and were out at sea for months on end. Oftentimes they were enlisted against their will, especially when the fleets were short of crewmen. The British Navy would enlist young men  and force them into the robust life of a sailor, but did promise to give them "three square meals a day", which referred to the table on which they ate, which had horizontal and vertical dividers that formed squares for each table setting to keep plates from sliding off the table when the boat was riding on the water. The table I write on within Captain Ken's yacht has a similar lip all along the edges that serve the same purpose.

Many of the British sailors had wives that they had to leave behind when the navy took them in. The ships went from port to port, but the sailors were carefully watched whenever their ships came to dock because many of the sailors were looking to escape at any chance they got. When they did come to back to port, they couldn't be gone for long, and if the port they were at was their hometown they couldn't leave the ship at all. Many sailors made the argument that they just want to see their wives, which the navy thought was reasonable. So married sailors were allowed to invite their wives on the ship when docked at their home port. But conjugal visits were not allowed in the common quarters for sailors. So when a sailor and wife had their conjugal visit on the ship they'd stay on the gun deck between two cannons and cover the area over with a blanket. Thus, the child they'd have nine months later would be called a "son of a gun".

Every morning the sailors had to get up bright and early, and before they could even have the first of their three square meals, they had to shine the decks. The commander of the ship would thus wake up his crew shouting, "Rise and shine".

Nowadays, living on a boat is considered a luxury. My, how times have changed! I've spent a little under three weeks learning about the worry-free, hospitably lifestyle of the yachtees who live in the marina with us. Every weekend they invite their friends out to the boat, play some music and drink some wine on Saturday night, and then cook up some eggs and bacon on the dock on Sunday morning. We just received three bottles of wine from our neighbor this evening, just as a friendly gesture he gave it. After another day of working on the boat,  it was a very welcomed gift. Keep living well, yachtsmen, keep living well.

  

Weather and other determining factors

We've heard from several people who've lived here a while that this has been the coldest Spring for North Myrtle Beach for as long as they can remember. That's not a reason to complain though because I'm from New Jersey, and the weather is still better than there. We're watching the weather each day, because our route depends on it. If it's clear and calm, we'll go down the coast via the ocean route. If the weather is at all unstable though, we'll take the Intracoastal Waterway.

The word is that The Bahamas is having unseasonably cold and windy weather too. But it can only stay that way for so long, right? Let's hope so. The last thing we'd want is to get there to find out that Bimini Harbor, our designated arrival point in The Bahamas,  is too windy to get into.

So another day of working around the boat and watching cormorants dive for fish on the waterway is nothing to complain about. Aside from that, we also met a few relatives, Don and Jan, for lunch today at Wild Wings Cafe. Seeing them was an encounter with Southern hospitality and also some down-to-earth familiarity, probably because Jan is also from New Jersey. In fact, not too surprisingly, I'm probably seeing more New Jersey license plates here than any other license plate except SC. It's like New Jerseyans are going viral.

As we continue to get ready for departure, I'm finding it more and more difficult to find interesting things to blog about. Both Captain Ken and I expected to be half way down the coast by now. So if you're wondering when we're going to leave already, we feel your frustration. A common belief for boaters is that a boat is never really in good enough condition to leave for a long voyage, and when the captain finally does decide to leave port it's only because he's let go of his anxiety for the things he didn't get to take care of yet. We've about reached that point. Another successful day fixing little things around the boat is proof of that.

Dolphins on the waterway

The question "When are you leaving?" can be taken the wrong way. It's not like the person asking wants you to leave. They're usually just excited about the adventure you're about to embark on. But Captain Ken and I have received the question so many times that we're beginning to wonder why people are so curious. Well, for the record, every time we even entertain the thought of leaving port, something new pops up that causes a delay. It's never anything alarming. We just want to make sure the boat is in the best condition possible before heading out, because you never know what could happen on the long, isolated parts of the waterway or in the open ocean.

Something interesting happened in the marina today. For the first time that anyone we talked to knows about, two dolphin came into the waterway right by the marina, right outside our boat actually.

Photo courtesy of Captain Ken

So life in the marina has its comforts and a few surprises every now and then. When we embark the comforts will be fewer for quite a while, but I'm sure there will be many more surprises.