Pictures from Beaufort, North Carolina

The moorings and anchorage in Beaufort North Carolina.










Wood work with character - we passed this display whenever we walked to and from the Piggly Wiggly grocery store.











Taylor's Big Mug on Front Street, a popular spot for cruisers and locals. A welcoming feel, interesting art, good coffee, great sandwiches and free wi-fi.








At the dock - the view from the porthole.

November 2008, Part 1: Cape May

You could say that November 2008 was in interesting month, on our calendar at least. But we did not know that when we set out.

We finally had the right weather window to leave Martha’s Vineyard, so we dropped our mooring and left the anchorage on a cool, blustery day, picking up the tide as we sailed down the eastern side of the island and towards Cape May. Winds eased then built again as we travelled, and we found ourselves preparing to enter the channel with reefed main and furled jib on a windy, grey day. Even the waters looked grey.

We sailed in as a coast guard cutter was leaving, keeping well to the right of the channel to allow it to pass before we tried to find a space in the many sport fishing boats cruising through to cross to the anchorage.

There were more boats there than we had anticipated, and manoeuvring was not as easy as normal with the mainsail reefed, but we dropped anchor on the inside of the other boats there, and then for safety we dropped another. The night passed without incident, and many of the other boats left come morning. We sat tight, waiting for the bad weather we knew was coming.

The day was spent as it often is, doing a bit of mending this and fixing that. The first night would be quiet, so we picked our second anchor up and swung gently to the first through the night. As the wind picked up the next day we dropped it again. Initial weather reports predicted no more than 30 knots, so we were watchful but not anxious.

As the day passed the wind built. A couple of other boats that had been anchored moved in to marinas. By the time we knew that the winds would be closer to 40 or 50 knots there were only three of us in the anchorage.

Late in the afternoon we noticed another boat moving, and hailed him on the radio. He re-anchored further out. We stayed put - for a while. Darkness was falling when we found ourselves moving too - towards the rocks between the two old jetties off the coast guard facility.

We scrambled. Foul weather gear pulled on but not done up, I worked the jib, trying to keep us off the rocks. Richard on the bow tried to get the anchors up. He got one up; the remaining one was still holding us every time we tried to move away from the rocks, and dragging every time we were pulled around toward them. The anchor was almost off the bottom when we found ourselves too close to be able to sail off.

With the keel rubbing the rocks on the bottom, Richard grabbed the ... pole and held the stern off the rocks. Inside on the radio I could hear every time we touched. I talked to the coast guard - they talked to us, seemingly with no sense of the urgency we felt. All we wanted or needed was to get off those rocks - where we would go after that was something we didn’t have time to consider.

The coast guard and I worked our way through the script - how many on board, any children, any health problems, did we have life jackets on, were we taking on water. Not yet, I said. The boat we had talked to earlier came on to plead our case for immediate help. The coast guard announced that they would have a team there in ten minutes. Then they announced that of course they would be there to help us, but were not allowed to help pull our boat off the rocks. In desperation, I called SeaTow.

It took what felt like forever for them to get there. In the meantime someone on the road that passed right by us asked if we had called in. Shortly after that three young coast guard men arrived, shone a bright light on us, and assessed our situation. One, in the water, checked for visible damage. Then, to our great relief, he came on board and helped Richard hold the boat off the rocks while I stayed at the radio. That act of kindness certainly helped us that night. After that it was a matter of listening to the keel bump and waiting for SeaTow.

The young men on SeaTow wasted no time once they got there. We clipped a line to our anchor chain, and in short order we were moving off the rocks. What a relief. Then it was time to figure out where to go. The wind was gusting at at least 40 knots, it was dark, we and the inside of the boat were rain-soaked. We needed a marina, but had no clue where we could be towed in to. We told them the situation, and left the final decision about where to go up to them.

They towed us away from the anchorage through a bridge and to a dock we could barely see. Then they spent long minutes trying to wrestle our boat to the dock against wind and tide. By the time they were done we had six lines tied to different points. Then it was time to sign papers, arrange payment and try to find a way to sleep. The next day it would be time to actually see where we were.

The wind was still blowing the next morning, pushing the boat hard away from the dock. The dock was part of a small and friendly marina, Two Mile Landing, off a quiet channel, which happened to have space. It was officially closed for renovations, but we were able to stay and, even more important, we were able to plug in and use our electric heater to try and dry ourselves and our clothes and our boat out. And there we stayed for another day.

When it was time to leave we decided it would be prudent to take another tow to get past the bridge, which we could now see was narrow. We arranged a tow for slack, and left the next day to take advantage of the next weather window. Our destination, so far as we could decide on a destination when sailing, was Chesapeake. There we might be able to make more progress with the boat engine - nothing for it in Cape May - and also meet one of the couples from the Cruiseheimer’s Net.

A digression: The Cruiseheimer’s Net is a morning net which unites cruisers up and down the east coast and beyond. As well as friendly greetings, useful bits of news and friendly announcements, this group helped us as much as they could with advice and ideas. You can find them on SSB radio at 08:30 US Eastern time, on 6.227.0 USB during the winter and 8.152.0 USB during the summer.

Pictures from Belle Isle, South Carolina

Looking out from the Belle Isle Marina restaurant toward Winyah Bay on a quiet day. Sometimes the view included boats on their way south traveling along the ICW.











Looking past the pond behind the marina, on one of those sunny day when the light glitters on the water. You can barely see one of the trees that grows out of the pond itself.










There are houses half-hidden in the trees. At night we would see their lights, illuminating them and making their presence more obvious than during the day.








Another still day, looking out of the marina toward Winyah bay.

November 2008, Part 2: Beaufort, NC to Belle Isle

Between Cape May and Beaufort lie the Hatteras and Frying Pan Shoals. All shoals must be treated with respect, and we are always glad when we thread our way between one more shoal and the Gulf Stream. So when we found ourselves off Chesapeake with light winds from the south turning to stronger winds from the north west - not the best winds to enter Chesapeake Bay as we had planned - we decided to use the opportunity to work our way past these two.

Except for a brief brush with the steep waves on the edge of the Gulf Stream as we skirted Hatteras we had good sailing to the Beaufort channel. We had looked at the chart, and decided that with the wind from the direction we had there would only be one tricky part to navigate and we should be able to sail in handily at slack. Our timing was good, and we sailed into the inlet and along the channel - watched as we tacked quickly back and forth through the one tricky area by an interested group standing on some docks outside what looked like a waterside condominium.

We sailed into the anchorage, and found much of the anchoring area off the channel filled with moorings. Fortunately for us one boat that had been anchored was leaving. The sailor aboard called to us that his was a good spot, so we sailed further up the channel while we waited for him to raise his anchor and take his leave. We should have been warned when we saw that his chain was well wrapped around his anchor, and that it took several good shakes to work the chain free.

We dropped our anchor close to where his had been. Then, knowing that another blow was on the way, we put out our second anchor down current. When all seemed well we assembled and offloaded the dinghy and rowed to the dinghy dock before the afternoon grew too late. We needed to buy bread and find the laundry, showers and wi-fi we had been told were nearby. As we walked back to the dinghy dock along the town docks we saw a boat we knew, Maggy Fields and found our friend Gord aboard. For those who might not know, Gord was the previous owner of our boat, and buying our beautiful boat from him came with the added bonus of finding a good friend.

Those first days in Beaufort were busy. We sat happily on the hook, going ashore to try and find parts for the engine, do shopping, shower, do laundry, visit the Taylor’s Big Mug coffee shop and enjoy their coffee and wi-fi access. We had a very nice lunch there with Gord. Then we met other cruisers in the nice, clean laundry behind the General Store who had also run aground in Cape May, the weekend before we did. We exchanged tales and experiences, as everyone talked we came to the conclusion that the area we had anchored in should not be considered a good anchorage for bad weather conditions - anchors seem to hold well close to the channel, but not closer to the jetties and shore.

As in Cape May, so in Beaufort. We noticed that there were places where anchors held well, and others where they did not. In one blow we noticed a boat next to us going in circles - it looked as if the anchor was dragging and catching, dragging and catching. We put out a third anchor to hold ourselves out of that boat’s way until the sailor aboard decided to let the rest of the blow pass in the shelter of the town marina. As it turned out, that was probably a very good thing.

When the next weather window - a very short one - appeared we decided to move on, and try reach the Masonboro Inlet. Gord was planning to leave the same day, and we hoped to meet him again at Wrightsville Beach. Before slack that afternoon we began to get ourselves ready to go. We took up the third anchor we had put out, then took our dinghy apart and stowed it on board. Then we did what we normally do - started to take up our second anchor before we put the mainsail up to sail off. Problem was, as we discovered after, we were actually pulling up both anchors at the same time.

We thought the boat newly anchored not far from us was dragging. They saw quickly that we were the one dragging, and they also saw why. Our anchor chains were well-wrapped around each other where they could see them but we could not. They had probably become tangled around each other when the tide, wind and current were low and the boat circled around the slack chains. We are very grateful to the sailors on Sojourn for helping us through what happened next . They took our lines and helped us raft alongside; then they helped us untangle the anchor chains and get the anchors up and stowed before walking us around their boat to a position where we could sail off. We had no main up, and were too close to raise it safely, so it was a matter of letting go the jib and pulling in the sheets at the right time. With Richard at the helm and me handling the jib and sheets and doing a little fending off, we were underway.

But more was to come. Looking back, it seems we just weren’t meant to leave that day. We still had to get the main up, which meant turning into the wind with the jib flapping. Then, main up, we tried to pull off the wind so we could sail down the channel and the jib sheet fouled on our whisker pole, stored along the lifelines. We got that free, got a little speed up, and tried to tack away from the shore - and the jib sheet fouled again, this time in the mooring chock. Then the jib wrapped wrong way around the front stay and became immovable. There just was not enough space or time to free the jib by furling it, free up the sheet and get sailing again - we went gently aground between two private docks.

Now what? There was a man working aboard a large power boat at one of the docks - someone else whose help we really appreciated - and he took time to help us get a line first to the boat he was on and then to the dock that boat was attached to. With his help we were able to winch the boat back into deeper water and then to the head of the dock. Slack was now well past, so we sat there while we considered our situation and our next move. And radioed Gord to wish him a safe voyage and let him know that we would not be leaving that day.

After some talk and consultation with the man who had helped us Richard hopped off the boat and went to see the owner of the dock. He found a former sailor and cruiser who was happy to let us stay there while we made yet another stab at fixing the engine as well as some of the damage our anchor rollers had sustained when we were towed off the rocks in Cape May. Once again we worked away and waited through heavy weather and light days for the next weather window.

The next several days were spent talking to other sailors and various businesses as we tried to track down parts - we found the folk at Coastal Diesel Service very helpful. And becoming better acquainted with the very helpful staff at the town dock. Beaufort is one of those towns that is good to cruisers, where many people are both welcoming and helpful. A wonderful place to visit - but with the weather becoming colder not a place to linger. So we kept the boat stocked, Richard worked on the engine and even got it to run for a while, and we kept an eye on the weather...

It was close to the end of November by the time the next weather window came along. The engine was not functioning reliably, so we opted for a tow out of the inlet when the tide was slack. We called a little ahead of time and the towboat arrived before we were quite ready, in spite of being asked to wait - which left us scrambling to finish our last minute jobs and increased the time we had to pay for. Then we were towed out, past the shoals we had not had time to look at on the way in and a small fishing boat that refused to clear the channel and forced us toward shallow water. Finally we were out of the inlet, free of our tow, putting up sails, and coaxing the boat away from the coast in light north winds, finally under way again.

The winds did not stay out of the north for very long. What should have been a short sail to Winyah Bay stretched out for an extra day and a half as we sailed into light winds on the nose. On our last night the rain descended as Richard sat in the cockpit, coaxing the boat to keep moving forward. As day dawned and we approached the inlet - having missed another slack time we could enter on - he was wet, tired and very cold. We hove-to and took a little time to consider our options.

Entering with too little wind to counteract the current was not one of them. This was the calm before the storm, and another system was on its way - so continuing down the coast to the next inlet we could enter did not look like a good option either. Finally we decided to request a tow in and spend a few days at a marina while we considered what to do next.

We chose Belle Isle marina out of one of the guides we had with us, mostly because it sounded like a good place for a smaller boat. As it turned out, it was also the closest to the inlet entrance, even though it was more than an hours tow away. Best of all, it turned out to be a beautiful, hospitable spot, with a marsh full of wildlife and birds and a gently rolling, treed landscape, and a dock master who was both efficient and kind. We had found a good place to pause and reflect.

It was now the end of November, and we had hoped to be in Miami already. But weather windows for travelling down the coast had been short and not always suitable for a boat which was travelling down the outside and having to choose very carefully which inlets to use. The month had been an expensive one, what with tows, paying salvage for being towed off the rocks and searching for engine parts. As we warmed and dried out the boat we talked about where to go from here.

For family reasons we still needed to get to Florida, and do it before Christmas. For financial reasons we needed to earn some more money. After phone calls and consultations we booked seats on the Greyhound to Fort Lauderdale, and arranged for the boat to stay safely tucked in at Belle Isle. The plan: A month or so in Florida, and then back to Nova Scotia to work, with a month off in April to return to South Carolina, mount a bracket and outboard to use as temporary auxiliary power, and bring the boat back to be hauled and refitted in Nova Scotia.