So its been an interesting 24 hours. We erred on the side of caution, and opted for the inland route to get south of Cape Hatteras. In retrospect, that was a good decision, because the weather did in fact blow 30+ knots out of the Northeast all night. It was a long way into Norfolk Harbor, and along the way the Naval might exhibited there is impressive. We passed drydock after drydock with missile cruisers,aircraft carriers, destroyers and troop ships. This collection of grey battleships went on for miles.
We bid farewell to Bill Barton at the town dock and planned to go under our first of many bridges on the Intra Coastal Waterway just as night fell. We almost got off to an inauspicious start by going under a bridge that led to a dead end canal but fortunately Rob met some locals who pointed us in the right direction. That would not have been a good beginning to a 200 mile trek through the ICW.
The first twenty of so miles of the ICW heading south from Norfolk is like a cross between an industrial shipyard and a steel refinery - and of course we were heading into it in the dark. Derricks, Cranes, Marine Railways, over head power lines on girders, the smell of asphalt, grain and diesel, the pop and flash of welders. Suddenly the gales offshore seemed like the less hectic alternative.
After about an hour, the post apocalyptic landscape gave way to creepy marshes and swampland.
The ICW is a a narrow (35 ft) canal that crosses marshes, swamps. Depths range in the dredged part range from 10 -15 ft., and quickly go to mud flats of 3-5 ft or less if you waver form the channel by just a few feet. Add to that fun a series of swing bridges, bascule bridges and draw bridges. Then throw in a set of locks for good measure. I was getting a little worked up about the inefficiency of the whole system and figured it would take us a week to get to Beaufort. We gradually figured out the system, and managed to chat up the bridge operators on the radio, and the endless cycle of obstacles helped pass the time. Our favorite radio story: the bridge operators often ask for the name of your boat as they pass through. I overheard on the radio early this morning, just such a request of a big motorboat behind us. The boat owner said to "lighten up" at which point the bridge operator got a little testy and told him that he was violating federal regulations (in less than pleasant terms). I then heard the motorboat owner say "no, no that IS the name of the boat, we're called the "light 'en up". Mary and I agreed that was a dumb name for a boat.
Interestingly, as we left the Great Bridge Locks and passed under the Great Bridge Bridge (so named by Tom), we noticed that virtually every other boat transiting the canal had tied up along side for the night and were watching TV, eating a late dinner or generally enjoying themselves in the warmth of their cabins. We however, motored on into the FREEZING cold night and spent the next ten hours barrelling through the canal, while scanning the depth, the marks, the chart, every ten seconds, hoping like hell we didn't run aground in the shallow mud waiting around each corner.
The fixed bridges have a clearance of 65' and our mast is 59', so it shouldn't be a problem, but we still slow down for every fixed bridge. When you stand on deck, looking up 60 feet, it is impossible to gauge how much distance there is between the mast and the bridge, and every time you could swear we would hit. Then you start to imagine the 1,000 pound, 60' mast crashing on to your heads as it falls backwards (so those thoughts helped kept us wide awake). And if that weren't enough, Tom and Rob encountered some high tension wires with similar state clearances. Tom could hear the buzzing of the lines and wondered what it would take the electricity to arc to the mast. He opted not to handle the metal steering wheel until well past.
Today has been an entirely, and awesome day. Mary I were on watch as the sun came up and we knew right away it was gong to be a good day. The previous night had been VERY cold so we were both wearing about 6 layers each. Within about an hour of sunrise, we were down to a couple of layers. At 0700, Tom showed up on deck in shorts, and pretty soon the entire crew had shed the winter clothing in favor of shorts and tee-shorts. All day long we've been enjoying the warm weather, and progressing from canal, to marsh, to bayou, to bay to river to sound. The ICW is an amazing patchwork of stitched together bodies of water (with some man made canals to fill in the gaps that runs 1,000 miles from Delaware to Key West)
We've covered about 175 miles in 24 hours, and expect to get to Beaufort, NC at about midnight. From there we plan to go back out into the Atlantic (safely south of Cape Hatteras) and down to Charleston. The weather offshore is just how we left it -- blowing 20 - 25 kts from the North East with big seas. As our course to Charleston (around Cape Fear) is to the southwest, the wind and seas should be behind us and we expect to make good time - though it will be rocky and rolly. The 180 miles to Charleston should take about 25 - 30 hours.
I apologize for any typos in these posts (its challenging enough typing as we roll around) and I'm not up to proofreading. I have managed to keep the laptop from flying off the nav table (every day I add a new restraint when gravity finds a weakness in my system)
- david
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