Home Run

After our pounding on the Alligator River, it was an easy decision to make to pull into the shelter of Coinjock.  Here, we had the pleasure of hot showers and a huge, very tasty seafood dinner at their popular restaurant.  We think they forgot our serve of hushpuppies though.  Never mind, next time!  We were keen to keep on moving, as miles were now vanishing under our keel at an amazing rate.  Great Bridge turned out to be another excellent stop – out of the wind, supermarkets close by and a free dock for 48 hours.  We took up that challenge (yet again) and shared a few bread crusts with other visitors biding time here - some very bossy Canada Geese. 

Tied up at Great Bridge between the Bridge & the Lock

C'mon Lady, deliver the goods or else...

With only 12 miles to Norfolk, we made an easy day of it.  Starting with the Great Bridge Lock, we pushed off into the Elizabeth River to undertake several bridge openings before meeting the heavily industrialised Portsmouth and Norfolk.  We arrived at Mile 0, off Hospital Point, yet again having to wait for northerlies to abate (just another 2 days on anchor – at least the sun was shining) to complete our last 47 miles up the Chesapeake to Deltaville.  

Waiting for the lock to open. Lowering of 2.5ft & from fresh into salt water

Back into the real world. Even our bicycle looks impressed...

We left Hospital Point, as scheduled but could hardly see for thick fog!  Thankfully, shipping traffic was minimal, Navy ships barely visible and only one large ship came into port, blasting alerts as he moved up river.  We noted again, we were the only ones heading north, tried to keep on the edge of the channel and were relieved to finally break out into Chesapeake Bay – even if we still couldn’t see anything.  

Don't look now, but something is following us...

Big shipyards and Norfolk city beyond

Nine hours later, WJ3 pulled into Broad Creek Marina where we are currently tied to the Transient Dock until it is time to haul us into their yard.  It’s still freezing and the Cap’n has just dashed off on a mercy mission to buy a heater for the cabin. He can never resist an opportunity to visit Hurd's Hardware! 

Warming up at last

By now you have seen many, many photos of our splashes and hauls, so we will end our 2025 posts here.  WJ3 will be sitting idle in the yard until our return to Deltaville in April/May 2026, with plans for time spent messing about on the Chesapeake and the Other Woman’s maintenance.  Right now, we’re looking forward to 12 months at home, even if we are looking down the barrel at yet another winter.  Just whose idea was this??

Just hauled out in time before the heavens opened and foul winds blew

We promise to be back for more adventures end of April 2026.  Though no more open oceans, no more long voyages!  Just a casual cruise and catch-up on what's been happening along the shores of the Chesapeake in our absence!  

Never Cross an Alligator

Yes, it's still cold!

Adams Creek usually marks a point where the ICW, heading north, holds few surprises.  Thankfully, we’ve now left designated “problem areas” behind and are well on our way with the mile countdown.  We had hoped for improved weather, so it was a delight to be crossing the wide, wide waters of Pamlico Sound on a quiet, sunny day.  The Sound is bordered by a narrow chain of tiny islands bravely fronting the Atlantic that make up the Outer Banks.  Most famous of these is Hatteras Island, an area that many cruisers try to avoid, particularly in bad weather when off-shore conditions can be treacherous.  This area is otherwise known as the “Graveyard of the Atlantic.”  Don’t let those names fool you, this is an area well settled with beach homes, resorts and all the infrastructure to support it.  It’s also home to quieter wildlife reserves and Kill Devil Hills, home of the Wright Brother’s historic first flight.  We may well get to visit one day, but not in WJ3.  A car and kayak might be best…

We anchored off Pungo Creek (nearby Belhaven is famous for its crabs – we were way too early for this treat) and settled in to watch the sun go down with a quiet drink in the cockpit, listening to a nearby resident, busy we thought with a nail gun, fixing his house.  Actually no, someone was out in the woods, hunting.  We retreated below deck and left early next morning.  

The Alligator River & its bridge are miles wide. A swing bridge sits at the  intersection with the ICW. It's surprising how much commercial traffic (barges, tugs) uses this waterway. 

The ICW took us on a merry dance through areas seemingly remote to us but on a map are well-settled and criss-crossed by a network of roads and bridges.  On we trudged - up rivers and creeks, through narrow canals, across more broad sounds, Norfolk in our sights.  Nature had other ideas.  As we burst out of stumpy Pungo canal into the Alligator River, we received a Gale Warning for the immediate area.  Oh great!  In 2009, nestled among the duck blinds in this area, we had an alert for a water spout.  Yes, we set the anchor firmly and survived the night with winds blowing over 41mph.  Next morning it appeared to have calmed down.  Soon though, we came to a halt at the vast Alligator Bridge, sheltering in its lee from winds still blowing over 28mph….  We dropped anchor again.  This swing bridge won’t open over 30mph and we didn’t want to face bashing into open waters across Albemarle Sound with nowhere to hide.  It was worth the wait…  Next morning the Sound was still a little cranky, but allowed us to make headway.  And I might add, in the company of the first north-bound cruising vessel we had encountered to date.

Yet another canal to float through - at least it's protected by tall timbers.
And is that really blue sky?

Behind the Barrier

Early morning farewell to Bucksport Marina

Treated to early morning reflections in a calm Waccamaw River

After taking a break at Bucksport Marina, a friendly and favourite stop along the Waccamaw, it was time to take on the next challenge.  A canal led us much, much closer to Atlantic beaches and barrier islands, and all the civilization that entails.  More bridges to tackle, areas of densely populated housing, interesting canal homes, loads more local and commercial traffic, and skinny, shoaled waters when crossing a myriad of smaller coastal inlets.  In all, as we rolled along, we enjoyed the change of scenery that made our day seem to pass quickly.   

Some houses were very isolated

Others were certainly unique

When passing these inlets, it is often quite possible to catch a glimpse of the currently moody Atlantic Ocean – hence our decision to remain on the ICW rather than take “outside” legs.  Many inlets are inaccessible to the likes of us with our 5½’ keel anyway.  Luckily for us, we watched closely for repositioned markers and avoided bumping.  Unlike some poor soul in his hot-water boat at Lockwoods Folly who obviously ignored them or perhaps thought his shallow keel was sufficient!  We breezed past, watching a tow boat struggling to free him in a rapidly diminishing tide.  Worse, a nearby carpark offers locals a fine vantage point of escapades that must regularly take place there. 

Found traffic (ship & bird) on the Cape Fear River

And quite a few hard working tugs and ferries

We rolled on to Southport and the Cape Fear River, a big ship channel with remarkable currents running, anchoring off-channel behind a spoil island at Tina’s Pocket.  The wind was blowing up-river, the skies were grey and we were cold and miserable, but the anchor held, doing a sterling job as it always does.   Best of all, we were well placed to tackle Snows Cut, where WJ3 was pushed through at an unprecedented 9kts.  And of course, more barrier islands, more inlets…  At least we had made North Carolina – mowing down the miles now!

Who doesn't need their own Lighthouse?

After another long day, we settled into a not so cosy Mile Hammock – again, the wind blew straight in on us, so we set an anchor alarm.  First time ever; thankfully not needed.  Mile Hammock is part of Camp Lejeune (US Marines) and we cruisers are kindly allowed to share this small harbour when not in use.  The ICW in this area then continues through their training area, so we left early to make for Beaufort, a pleasant little town with pirate connections (Blackbeard) on the Beaufort Inlet - another big ship channel.  Anchoring in this area is challenging, so we moved on to a perfectly calm and more peaceful Adams Creek, putting us in good stead for the challenges of crossing the large, open waters of Pamlico Sound. 

(Blackbeard’s history is quite interesting.  You might enjoy this story of his daring-do efforts at sea in the rather fetching Revenge and later, the Queen Anne’s Revenge.)  

And you thought it was just a load of old history...

Low Country

Georgia and South Carolina are home to vast areas of seemingly impenetrable marsh and swamps.  A visit to the remote Okefenokee Swamp is on our wish list, however, not this year.  That didn’t stop us watching carefully as we wove our way through mile after winding mile of connecting rivers and canals for wildlife.  This is the real low country, full of isolated homes, shrimp boats and crab pots.  All very quiet at this time of year.

Ben Sawyer Bridge. One of many we encountered. 
This swing bridge operates north of Charleston

Hell Gate was up to it’s usual tricks though and our timing was off – it would take months to travel this stretch if we were to wait for a convenient high tide, so on with the show.  And we skimmed over it with just a foot of water beneath the keel in one stretch of this narrow, shoaled cut.  We made it, just, but wouldn't want to try it again on such a low tide...

We eventually made Charleston on a beautiful warm sunny day.  That is, until we popped out of the Wappoo Creek cut, then crossed the Ashley River into this vast, windy and very busy harbour.  The dockhand helping us refuel, dressed in t-shirt and shorts, thought we were totally mad!  Dressed for the Arctic AND worse, travelling north… 

North of Charleston lies a very scenic section of the ICW (and it's deep, easy to navigate!)– the wonderful cypress swamps that line the Waccamaw River.  The river is rich, tobacco brown, lined with loads of stumps, swamp and marshlands.  This area was once wealthy and vigorous due to the production of rice and indigo.  We pulled into the Bucksport Marina, a favourite and quiet spot along the Waccamaw to refuel, deciding immediately that we needed an extra day to rest.    

Cypress swamp along the Waccamaw a bit dismal
in winter, and an ICW mile marker now a prize nest

Hard to spot, but those logs in the Waccamaw
are just covered in tortoises enjoying the afternoon sun

We’re travelling every day now with no plans to make any more longish stops from here, so there’s very little to report that’s especially interesting.  Even the wildlife is in hiding, (no alligators to report!) all remaining in Florida until Spring is well and truly in the air.  

How is this for a painterly sunset? 
South Edisto River, west of Watts Cut, South Carolina

Eyes on the Road

Anchored off Fernandina Beach, Florida. 
About to cross St Mary's Inlet into Georgia

Three days north of St Augustine found us safely out of Florida and up river in a sheltered Brunswick.  Tied to a transient dock.  With electricity and water, no less.  Bliss, when you’ve spent 9 hours travelling 50 miles daily along a narrow ICW corridor of lakes, rivers, and canals that can come with surprises all of their own, especially when crossing inlets.  And we’ve lost count of those… 

Well, it was a sun trap until the morning we left in 1⁰C

Brunswick Landing is a wonderful sun-trap. It is boater friendly and best of all, they have an easily accessible supermarket a few blocks over.  Our marina plan is usually to stay 3 nights.  By the time we arrive, often late in the day, then complete check in formalities, find conveniences, set up electricity and water connections and perhaps refuel (to save time on departure), our first night is chalked up.  Our two days were otherwise busy, spent washing clothes, shopping for groceries, reporting in to the Coast Guard, and fixing broken boat bits.  At least we were able to exchange a few good books in the Sailor’s Lounge and have long, long hot showers to get our blood circulating.  

Anchored in the marsh off Bear River, in Georgia.
Can you see the white mast of a cat anchored further round the bend?

Squeezing our way through some serious
bridge constructions at Thunderbolt

Getting to our first stop in Georgia had been something of an ordeal.  We managed to sort out our nav problems at St Augustine and were now glued to the blue dotted line (Bob423 overlay on Aqua Maps) following Bob’s good guidance.  The weather had other plans, and after those few sunny days in St Augustine, it was now somewhat wild and wooly, hitting lows of 1⁰C.  Crossing the St Johns River at Jacksonville, we’d encountered a nasty storm with rain, and strong, chilling winds up to 31kts.  At least the bridge with furious eddies was kind to us this time – we luckily, had arrived at slack tide.  And we didn’t bump into submarines crossing St Mary’s River Inlet either.  Always a bonus. 

Not exactly flattering, but at least we're warmish.
 (The Cap'n reckoned this pix will scare small children!)

All this cold weather was enough to send us ferreting for our down sleeping bags and jackets.  On any given day now, we are wearing up to 4 layers – long john thermals, tracksuits with hoodies, puffy jackets, wet weather gear.  All topped off with a fashionable beanie or two.  And you all thought this was fun!!

With quite the audience, unhappy at the disturbance, at some bridges