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...

Lil’E & Miss Ashley

X-ing File #6_A Gulf Stream Crossing & the Atlantic ICW

Beaufort to Georgetown

(Just a couple of hardworking tugs & said slowly in your best Southern drawl)

Shrimp Boats tied to the dock near Thunderbolt

We tried for a mooring at Beaufort (said “bew fert”) but took a space dockside – a more secure solution as it turned out, when later in the day we watched boats bounce in strong winds opposing a strong river current.  From our vantage point (when a huge tide was in!) we overlooked a pleasant park that doubled as a tourist hub, providing us with close proximity to many activities, including a town bus, buggy rides, restaurants and pretty main street.

Beaufort Arsenal and History Museum within

Beaufort Arsenal details

Hunting was obviously a pastime too

We started with an enjoyable brunch then made a B line for the friendly Tourist Information Centre housed in the historic Beaufort Arsenal.  On recommendation, we visited the Arsenal Museum.  Gary, no less than a walking encyclopedia on Beaufort’s history, gave us a guided tour of this interesting collection.  This area was settled by the Spanish in 1514, followed by the French English and Union forces.  

The area was made wealthy by firstly being a protected deep-water seaport, then from many plantations growing rice, indigo and sea-island cotton.  On the strength of this wealth, plantation owners were able to build large, attractive homes in Beaufort.  This ensured a pleasant lifestyle mingling with peers, cooling river breezes in stifling summer heat and opportunity to leave the plantation work to others.  Angus, the handsome Clydesdale, took us for a slow and very pleasant buggy ride around these beautifully maintained homes, most still privately owned. 

We took a tour of this historic Beaufort landmark:
The John Mark Verdier House

What a handsome lad is young Angus

After all the excitement of Beaufort, we made it as far as Church Creek, another “wild” marsh anchorage where we spent the night relaxing in the middle of nowhere doing nothing.  Because we could.  Perhaps our most entertaining viewing of the day was along quiet reaches of the Stono River.  A dolphin had “partnered” local crabbers; a cunning plan to ensure first dibs on pot spoils tossed overboard (undersized, female crabs, etc) as they hauled each pot.  You could swear it was a circus trick but no doubt rather trying for the crabbers.

Charleston was next on our radar, but having visited some years ago, we decided not to stop.  It’s just as well, the anchorage is now a mooring field and strong winds whistled up river.  We picked our way across the river, dodging huge tows, fishing fanatics and a flotilla of parasailers.  We swept by those wonderful heritage homes lining the river.  More recently, Charleston was home to Pat Conroy, a novelist noted for capturing the spirit of the South (The Prince of Tides). 

Palatial Charleston Townhouses

Parasailing in rough conditions across Charleston Harbor 

After crossing Charleston’s busy port (Is that an aircraft carrier coming down river?), it was time to face up for another long, shallow stretch.  At least we had a rising tide.  The winds were still up, blowing in from the Atlantic, so we threaded our way to Long Creek, off Deewees Creek.  (Don’t you just love these local names!)  This is another picturesque “wild” but quite well protected anchorage in the marshes.  The irony was that many of these creeks offered deeper water than many sections of the ICW.  We began to feel like locals, recognising many of our fellow travellers along the now busy ICW highway – it’s transit season in full swing. 

A very, very long tow

Finally, an end in sight to this tow...

Next stop was thankfully off the deep, black waters of Winyah River.  Cedar swamps and disused rice plantations line the river making it seem so remote and pristine despite the unusual colour from tannins.  We headed into Georgetown and set about making a spectacle of ourselves as we set anchor, then reset the anchor with a stern anchor, then reset the stern anchor again.  All in black oily mud dredged up by our chain.  And in front of a merry local crowd at a harbourside bar/restaurant.  Our efforts paid off though when we noticed a local boat (and its mooring) washed ashore after the stormy night. 

Oh dear! So glad we set that stern anchor last night...

Man O Pause

X-ing File #6_A Gulf Stream Crossing & the Atlantic ICW

Brunswick to Beaufort

(Man-0-Pause really made us laugh. This could be a winner in our boat naming competition?)

Hot cars, hot BBQ from a trailer and a vast, old timber boat
for sale.  Brunswick had lots to offer.

Our arrival in Brunswick was without precedent.  The waters were deep – such a joy, and the marina located in an historic seaport dating from 1771.  We needed a stop to refuel, re-provision and recuperate.  What we did not anticipate was to be met (and boarded) by the Coast Guard (day 1), a tornado warning (day 2) and a blizzard (not actually but it felt like it - day 3).  

Still, we had a great time, starting with a car show and Farmers Market in a nearby park, a bike ride through interesting side streets of old town, a decent supermarket and finally a friendly cruiser “pot luck” evening at the marina where GS was able to have her fill of girl-talk, library books and wine.  We really did like Brunswick Landing Marina and might have stayed (forever) but decided to push on for the Chesapeake.  I think it was the tornado warning that did our heads in (or maybe it was the not-so-Thai food!).

Historic Buildings

And lots of beautiful parks

Well cared for historic homes

Low tide at Brunswick Landing - quite the tidal range in Georgia!

Georgia is a series of barrier islands, marshes and wide river inlets that show regular glimpses of the Atlantic.  Our challenge was to weave our way through these without hitting mud or shoals.  We found ourselves in the company of “Hakuna Matala” taking turns at leading the way, sometimes at full steam, others cautiously.  We anchored “wild” for the first time in Bear River, not wanting to leave the ICW too far off.  The bug house was connected (our insect curtains lowered to fully enclose us) to protect from midges (no-see-ums) and other nasties that inhabit the marshes here.  The night was peaceful and our only trauma in the early dawn was to have a fellow traveller watch us flounder as we grounded.  Whoops – caught cutting the corner to get back onto the magenta line!  Still we got off… (aren’t bow thrusters just the best) ready to take on Hell Gate, only a few miles away.

Really, we shouldn't moan about the depth of our keel

Moon River...Remember the famous song?
Well, how about Audrey Hepburn in the 1961 film Breakfast at Tiffany's?

“Liberty” followed us through Hell Gate and we both watched in amazement as a cruise ship (yes, unbelievable) attempted this shallow cut between islands in Ogeechee River.  We left them to it, making for Vernon and Moon Rivers (you know, that famous song Moon River – this is it and a lovely spot it is too!).  Next was the challenging Skidaway Narrows, home to a river otter population (none deemed to show their whiskery faces), before crossing the Savannah River and officially leaving Georgia.  We crossed Calibrouge and then Port Royal Sounds (both taking ages as we picked our way around shoal waters) before heading up a deep, rather turbulent Beaufort River (due to strong currents) to our destination of historic Beaufort for a well-earned break.  Hooray y’all!  We’ve survived Georgia and are now in deep South Carolina!

With one or two more bridges to go yet a-while