Long Day Through Skinny Waters

Wednesday, April 29th: Anchorage at Butler Island in the Maccamaw River, South Carolina

The weather is warm and the scenery, beautiful. Through Georgia and now into South Carolina, parts of the waterway are lined with bush or stands of trees. Sometimes there is marsh land spreading from the water edge and back to meet wooded areas.

Today we are going through miles of marsh sometimes with trees in view and sometimes not. At times, rows of houses and docks appear, the docks ending in a small deck area covered by a green or peach coloured roof. Usually, there is a boat raised out of the water and sitting on a supports beside the deck. The dolphins are ever present showing a fin here and there and sometimes arching out of the water - occasionally one or two appear directly in front of the boat and then disappear under the water - sliding away from the approaching hull.

In spite of the scenery and warm temperatures, we are not so relaxed. Since our grounding, we are more keenly aware of unpleasant possibilities. During our turn at the wheel, each of us is especially vigilant to follow the deep water: staying close to the GPS magenta line indicating the centre of the channel and also noting water depths. Falling depths send an alert - magenta line or not, should we move the boat over closer to the shore? closer to the green or red marker?

This morning we were delayed by a bridge with restricted rush hour opening hours. From the marina in Charleston where we spent the night, we estimated an hour and a half to reach the bridge. To get through the bridge, we either had to arrive before 7 or after 9. Beating the 7 o'clock deadline meant starting out before the sun came up - something we perhaps should have considered more seriously since the 9 o'clock opening put us on the water well after low tide. That means that we traveled for a while through the morning and into the early afternoon on a rising tide - a good thing - but as the day has progressed, the tide had reached it's peak and begun to fall. We weren't happy to be traveling through areas of "skinny water" as the tide fell. One particularly troublesome area had 2 ranges to help navigate a narrow channel with shallow edges. For non boaters: A range consists of 2 markers, one set in front of the other - the boater is meant to steer the boat in a line running from one marker to the next. The trick is to place the boat so that you see the closest marker sitting directly in front of the one behind it. On the channel we came through, the ranges were behind us, so Bob had to turn and look back to line the markers up. I sometimes steer following a range but not this time - Bob is better at keeping his cool when the stakes are high - and the tide is low. To make it all interesting, while we were moving through a narrow part of the channel just before the range would appear, we saw the top of a tall tug around the bend. As the tug and a long train of equipment trailing behind turned the corner, we were caught in a thin strip of water between Sea Change and a green square marking the edge of deep water. Bob slowed to a crawl and as the tug and it's snaking floating cargo passed by, we watched the depth sounder fearing that we would be forced into shallow water. (It was already shallow enough.) When the last of the load passed by, we breathed a sigh of relief and then settled down to look out for the next challenge. Such experiences aren't so bad - they keep us fully engaged and prevent thoughts of stock prices and swine flu.

We were feeling so gung-ho that we bypassed our destination point (Georgetown - it was too late to go ashore for walking anyway) and continued on to an anchorage listed in Skipper Bob's book. Meanwhile I went below and got dinner ready so that we could eat soon after we anchored (a curried chicken and rice dish, vegetables, salad). Finally at almost 7, we arrived at another of those adventure experience sites - Skipper Bob's descriptions are extremely succinct and leave a lot to of decision making up to the captain - basically, anchor north or south of this island (that seems to be in the middle of nowhere) and get in close (presumably where the water is a better depth for anchoring). After we cruised up the side of Butler Island for several minutes, Bob selected a spot shown on the chart to be more shallow than surrounding water and we dropped the hook. There was no one in sight - just water and trees around. On days like this, I always feel as though we are taking a huge chance - that is until the anchor is down and all is well - as it always is.

We traveled 63 nautical miles today - a long, long way to go in a slow boat on the ICW.

Looking at Butler Island - where we anchored.

It Happened to Us

Friday, April 24th: Thunderbolt Marina - Again

The question is, after you have talked about the mistakes others make that end up in a grounding, do you admit that your own boat got stuck in ICW mud? And do you admit to being at the wheel? - and even though you were within the marked channel, do you admit to not having followed the magenta line on the chart as you should have - even though entering a very tricky section? How can that be explained? I won't try.

The truth is we were stuck well and good this afternoon as we attempted to travel north of Thunderbolt. The short story is that we were the 6th boat that the Towboat US fellow had pulled out of the same spot this week - and when he tried to pull us off - and he was pulling for quite some time - the bridle attached to the 2 cleats at the bow of the boat slipped up around the anchor, pulled the anchor against the anchor roller - and bent the roller considerably. After all that, we decided to return to the Thunderbolt Marina where we know there is a good marine yard and where Bob hopes they'll be able to straighten out the roller.

This morning before we left Thunderbolt, when the boat came out of the water, the rudder was fine, the hull was free of growth and and there was no problem with the "cutlass bearing". However, the zinc on the end of the prop had worked itself off - and was gone. The zinc on the prop shaft was in tact and just a little corroded although Bob took the opportunity to put on a fresh one. This all means that the engine knock is still unexplained. The mechanic suggested that we continue on - that the knocking might have been the now missing zinc clanging around before it came off completely - but if the sound was still there after we ran the engine today, that we should have someone look at again in Charleston and do the "next step" which is to see if it's a transmission problem (that's the best recount of all this that I can do).

While underway (and before we went aground), we were still hearing the knock so now that we have returned to Thunderbolt to have the bow roller repaired (we hope), we'll have the knocking investigated further as well. Bob has already talked to the manager of the yard and they will be ready for us Monday morning - to look at the anchor roller which they think they may be able to bend back into place and also they will have a Yanmar mechanic there to check whatever (re the knock).

Saturday, April 25th: Thunderbolt Marina

What do we do when you have a free day on a boat? - we pull everything apart to find all the stuff we know is hidden away but we've put off looking for. A key item Bob pulled out of some deep hidden spot was no-see-um proof netting that he bought back in Toronto. Today we'll cut some pieces to fit into the ports that we like to leave open at night. Spraying the screens with insect repellent works only up to a point: in the morning we've been waking up with fresh bites.

And what does Bob do when he has a problem on the boat and time to mess about? He can't leave it alone - he has to try to solve the problem. This morning Bob had his head in behind the engine listening for the knock, trying stuff and listening again. In the end, he raised up the engine a little, tightened down the screws and the sound is gone. He's hoping that he's fixed it. Guess what he's doing now? He's got tools out and he's trying to straighten the side of the anchor roller.

Postscript:

Bob was able to bend back the side of the anchor roller and walked up to the marine store to buy a new roller (the piece that anchor rolls over while being threaded through the whole roller --- thingy). It's fixed.

We won't be staying until Monday so as to go into Thunderbolt Marine yard; instead, tomorrow morning, we'll leave early to catch the high tide and resume our trip through the dreaded Georgia ICW.

Travels in Georgia

Thursday, April 23: Kilkenny River, Georgia

Bob reading while I'm at the wheel. The air is cool on the water and we had the sides of the enclosure down.


Once underway, just before 7 this morning, I took my turn at the wheel while Bob ate, and then after having my own cereal and coffee, I settled down to plan the next couple of days of travel toward Charleston: How many miles would we travel each day? Could I match the miles with good places to stop at the end of the day? Since our stay in the Exumas, we have become used to life at anchor and are more inclined to look for good anchorages than for good marinas. When we've reached a destination, we like not having to pull out and fasten fenders and lines. We like not worrying about getting into a boat slip in strong winds or current. We like not having to pay - and in the morning, if winds are brisk, it's so much easier to up anchor than to get away from a dock. Admittedly, it's still nice to change up now and again and put in at a marina where we have the luxury of stepping off onto a dock.

Our experience anchoring on the ICW for the better part of a week has taught us to add a new criteria when choosing an anchorage - protection from winds and waves is top of the list, of course, not too much current is good, and scenic is nice, but for at least one in two nights, we want an anchorage where there's a spot to land the dinghy and go for a walk. In the Exumas, this wasn't an issue: there was always a sandy spot close by where we could beach the dinghy and go exploring.

Last night we anchored in the Frederica River beside Fort Frederica State Park. From our boat we could see the small stone structure and canons that remained from the original fort. The area itself is lovely - thick with trees and what looks like a walking trail from the fort through the park - but the dock that used to allow anchoring boaters to land their dinghies had been removed. Unless you come in through the front gate (where ever that is! - not any where in sight) and pay (I assume), you aren't allowed to land. So as lovely as the spot was to look at, this was our 2nd day of not being able to get off the boat. The afternoon before we had taken a mooring ball at Fernandina with the intention of going into the pretty little town for a walk - but the winds were too strong and water too choppy for lowering and riding on the dinghy. As a result, our time to stop today was dictated in part by the location for this anchorage in the Kilkenny River - the river is deep (no worries about sandbars), it's well protected and --- there's a marina here with a dinghy dock. Immediately after putting the hook down, we lowered the dinghy, lowered and attached the motor and headed in. (After all our practice, we can be ready to go in 15 minutes.) There's not a lot around the Kilkenney marina - just a few homes - but there are blocks of land covered with bush and tall trees and among them, majestic Live Oaks with Spanish moss hanging from their branches. It was a beautiful place to walk.

That small boat seen through the trees is Sea Change anchored in the Kilkenny River.

We're in no-see-um season - in no-see-um country and in the late afternoon, the bugs appeared - so having had a brisk walk around Kilkenny, it was quick back to the boat. I now know that I was not being bitten by no-see-ums in the Abacos - the mysterious bugs that were making a meal of me at West End, our first stop in the Bahamas, were sand fleas - a common insect there that bit me intermittently all through the the northern Bahamas but left me alone when we headed south. The little beggars here may be called no-see-ums, but they're quite visible as they circle around us, land, and nip away. Their bites are small but itch just the same. In the evening, we have taken to closing up most of the boat. Fortunately, the nights are fairly cool so we're not left roasting. Bob has used insect propellant to spray the curtain screen that we tie over the companion way and also the screens in 2 ports that we leave open. It seems to be working. Without the spray, ordinary screens won't keep out these pests.

Friday, April 24th: On Our Way to the Marina at Thunderbolt

Our daily entertainment as we chug along is listening to conversations on the VHF. (Everyone does.) For the last couple of days there have been several calls from the coast guard to vessels "in distress". Today, there was a 46 ft. fish boat taking on water that set off an EPURB and was then hailed by the Jacksonville coast guard. The boat was in the Gulf of Mexico but the coast guard here just happened to pick up the signal. Yesterday there was a boat in trouble somewhere off the Florida coast. The coast guard, as usual, put out a call to any vessel in the vicinity to stand by the boat in distress until they could get there. A US warship responded and was waiting until a coast guard helicopter arrived. That would be something wouldn't it? - to have a warship sitting near you while you waited for a helicopter to lift you off your boat.

Another call was a general warning by a cruiser who had gone aground a few miles ahead of us. The captain was advising others to hug the shore on the green side since there was a sandbar "right in the middle of the channel". When we finally passed the grounded catamaran - it was clear that he had been traveling on the wrong side of the red markers. Was he not aware that the middle of the visual channel is not the middle of the path of deeper water marked by navigation aids and also that since he was going north, he should keep red markers to port? Perhaps as a boat with a very shallow draft, he was used to traveling outside of the markers? In any case, from his VHF conversation, he was clearly shook up to be aground but was blaming the paucity of dredging in Georgia and not his own negligence.

(Rarely used words like "paucity" have been popping into my head. I'm not sure where they come from. I have to check their meaning and spelling before I include them as I'm not always sure I'm using them correctly. I used to substitute other words when such esoteric words came to mind - but hey, it's my blog and I think I'll just keep them!)

We've chosen to stay at the Thunderbolt Marina tonight. Bob wants to see about having the boat taken out of the water so as to check the sacrificial zincs (protect other boat metals against salt water corrosion), see how much growth there is on the prop and also have a look at the "cutlass bearing" (??) - he's hearing a mysterious knocking at some engine speeds.