Port Royal

Port Royal may be our favorite spot so far. When eating low county boil at the Dockside, we obtained permission to dock there in the morning, as they don’t open until the afternoon. We were interested in visiting their wetland area which has walking paths. We took off on foot, but became lost, so asked a couple of men in a pickup truck where it was. They had no idea. Strike two, our lovely waitress didn’t know either. Undaunted, we walk on until we see the postal employee loading her truck. “She’ll know!” and she did. It is mostly closed right now, getting ready for the Grand Opening. It is a small area and we saw trees full of egrets

and had a quite walk. Back in town we stopped at an antique and consignment store. It is housed in the old fire hall, courthouse, water department and municipal offices. This made for small room after small room of an eclectic collection of things to purchase. We wandered and poked around for quite a time. The friendly owner, who described Port Royal as “our Mayberry”, encouraged us to go to the local café for lunch and the fried pickles with mild horseradish sauce, another southern treat we had heard about and never tried. “I’m not ready for lunch, yet, but we have to have a fried pickle!” says I. We see the café on a side street, but Reggie wants to walk to the end of the street to see what is there. Then back towards the café, but he now wants to sit down on the bench. I’m a little slow, but I do catch on in time. “Do you not want to go to the café?” He grins sheepishly and admits that a pickle dunked in hot oil and dipped in horseradish, just doesn’t sound very good to him. When I pointed out that he liked all of those things individually, he pointed out that I like chocolate and I like garlic, but did I want them mixed together? Good point, but I’m determined. We walk in and see people eating fried pickles. In fact, I think everyone who came in ordered fried pickles. Much to our surprise, they don’t just dip a whole dill pickle in hot oil. They slice them thinly, dip in flour and then fry them. They taste sort of like a vinegar potato chip, I guess. Quite good.

Since then, we have been winding our way through Georgia.

(which marker numbere are we trying to find?)

(nice of them to install all these Osprey nest sights and bird perches

Most of the time the weather has been “not too hot, not too cold, not too windy, not too rainy, juuuuust right.” Georgia’s stretch of the ditch is more serpentine and has more inlets, which can be rough if the wind and/or current is wrong. We are going through one right now, but it is calm. We topped up the fuel and water and will anchor on the other side of this inlet. All is well. It is a good life.

I've finally had it and I'm fed up!

            The day started out just fine.  Barbara was delivered two cups of fresh perked coffee to her in the berth.  She completed a Sudoku on her Nook, which usually means a good day to come.

We enjoyed a quick breakfast before hauling anchor in Factory Creek by Lady’s Island.  Our plan was to head to the municipal dock in Beaufort, SC.  They offer free day time docking.   We would then do a little wandering around town.

Our trip across the Beaufort River was somewhat delayed by a half hour wait for the Lady’s Island swing bridge to open.  We spent the time charging the batteries by motoring in circles.

After passing through the bridge, we approached a dock resembling the description of the municipal dock.  We approached dead slow and were set for a perfect docking when a fellow started walking down the dock towards us.  Barbara elected to not step off with the breast line until we could speak to him.  It turns out, you guessed it, this was not the municipal dock.  We could tie up and leave the boat for as long as we wished.  The first hour was free, and thereafter it was 50 cents per foot of boat length each hour.  Our old boat is 36 feet.  You do the math.

We didn’t even touch.  We glided on past to find the much smaller, 140 foot dock, 110 feet of which was poorly taken up by 3 other boats.  This one took a couple tries to get right but we made it without damaging their boats or ours.

We walked through a very appealing small town already beginning to swarm with tourists.  The horse drawn wagons were filled up for town tours, and the air conditioned busses had folks standing in line.  We chose to amble along looking at the beautiful flowers and trees and mansions and tiger (made of drift wood outside a gift shop). 

High on our list was our ongoing quest to find someplace to have local cuisine for lunch.  We hit dead ends when passing through northbound two years ago and weren’t doing much better this trip.  Historic local fare is known as “low Country”.  I guess the premium example is a dish called Low Country Boil, or occasionally Frogmore Stew.  We have checked out numerous restaurants and have never found it on a menu even though we have seen it touted in guide books and tourist information.  For lunch, Barbara finally settled on a sandwich called the “Ooey Gooey”, pimento garlic cheddar cheese and bacon grilled “low country style”. 

Lunch was settled by walking through the downtown “Tree Walk” maintained by a local ladies garden club. 

Then we headed to Bay St. to find the local wine tasting and dessert shop.  After walking Bay Street certain we would see it, and not seeing it, we look up the address and head back up Bay St. to the right spot.  It no longer exists. 

Time to regroup.  We peruse the restaurant information trying to find a place to which we could walk or boat.  They are all too far away or not boat accessible.  Then we see there is a well reviewed seafood restaurant on the water with a floating dock in Port Royal, just a few miles south.  We remember having anchored overnight in the bay containing the restaurant when we were headed north.  And, since low country boil is mostly a seafood dish, decision made.  Fill a couple gallon jugs with drinking water at the local fountain, cast off and away we go.

We glide up to their dock and have it all to ourselves.  We try a docking trick about which I‘ve read.  I need to re-read and practice.  We tie up and head up to the restaurant.  The smell of delicious seafood is in the air.  We have arrived at dinner time.  The staff is cheerful and gracious.  We take seats on the sun porch looking out on the shrimp boats.  Our waitress, Christine, brings us tall glasses of ice water with lemon and menus.  Everything looks and sounds delicious.  Many items are listed as Southern style or low country, but NO LOW COUNTRY BOIL!  Christine knows of it and its alter ego Frogmore stew, but they don’t serve it.  Drat!

We decide to stay for dinner anyway since there are other items on the menu we have yet to try.  We order a bottle of wine.  I’ve heard about fried green tomatoes for years but have never had them and this is supposed to be the area where they are best, so we’ll share an order of those.  She Crab Soup is a local specialty so we’ll share a bowl of that.  Both are tasty along with the cornbread and bread sticks.  Barbara decides to order Shrimp and Grits dinner, with a grit cake, a popular local meal.  I opt for the broiled Captains platter with all manner of tasty stuff.  We ask Christine if there is a restaurant or café in tiny Port Royal which might have Frogmore stew available for lunch tomorrow.  We’re determined!  She’s not sure, but she’ll ask the manager and staff and cook.  She comes back with a giant smile and “Good news!”  The cook says he’ll make low country boil, aka Frogmore stew for us!  Just for us!  No captain’s platter.  Goodbye shrimp and grits.  Hello two orders of Frogmore stew!

I’ve finally had it!  And it is delicious.  And I’m fed up! 

Each order included a half pound of large fresh local shrimp plus fresh red and green peppers and onion and chunks of corn on the cob and potato and sausage all boiled in a spicy sauce.  More than any regular person could eat.  The hunt is ended, the hunters sated.

As an aside, I’ve been wearing a Montana Grizzlies t-shirt to town.  It never fails to attract comments.  An older gentleman saw it at the restaurant this evening.  He stopped to talk about his cousin in Hamilton and his retired boss in Whitefish.  Another fellow in a men’s room in Charleston talked about his daughter doing post graduate work in Missoula.  Another fellow in a store noted “they have a pretty good football team”.

after the storm

The storm clouds dissipated which were over us last night as I wrote.  They left behind a crystal clear sky full of brilliant stars, and one storm cloud way off in the distance back lit by intermittent lightning.  After the tense afternoon, it was easy to relax and fall asleep

     We were awakened near midnight by howling winds, rain, black clouds and lightning.  I had to go on deck to secure a loose sail cover in the dark, for which the world is thankful. 

 

     At times like those, you begin to ponder the merits of going on deck with no shoes, no life vest, no tether, no knife.  It seems like it will only take a short time to do whatever the task is.  Why delay while grabbing and getting into all that stuff when the problem could be getting worse as you waste time preparing for things which have never happened to you.....yet.  So, you rush out not thinking about slipping or tripping or losing  your balance or being knocked overboard where you would be swept away by the current and storm.  Most of us think the guys who "safety up" even in benign weather are rather foolish, but who are the smart ones?

 

     Today was to be light winds and temperatures in the upper 70's.  We never saw it that way.  We were able to motor-sail for about a half hour.  The rest of the time was mostly cloudy with a head wind, and sometimes adverse current, the combination of which could slow us down to under 4 miles per hour unless we pushed harder, for which there was no reason.

 

     We were just turning in towards our chosen anchorage for the night when we ran solidly aground.  Barbara calls it "dropping Florida anchor".  There is an unmarked shoal stretching out into the marked channel.

 

     The tide was going out and a blustery breeze was blowing towards the shoal.  We were fortunate we were at only about 1 foot above low tide, so it would eventually reverse and raise us off the mud.  However, as the incoming tide raised us, the wind could push us farther up the shoal.  What to do, what to do, what to do???

 

     Kedge!  I climbed into the dinghy and maneuvered it to the bow of "Submit'.  Barbara lowered the anchor plus its 100 feet of chain plus 60 feet of anchor line into the dinghy.  I then backed the dinghy towards deep water and upwind while the anchor rode played out over the dinghy's bow, before dropping the anchor overboard.  After I returned to "Submit", we took up tension on the anchor rode and settled down to a couple games of cribbage while waiting for the tide to come in.  As the tide lifted us, we hauled ourself free with the anchor, "kedging off" for our non-sailor followers.  It was good practice for some time when things could be way more serious than this was.

 

     A tasty dinner, a glass or two of wine, and a -so far- quiet evening at anchor in Beaufort, SC.

 

traveling day 3/24/2012

     We arose fairly early for us.  The tide had almost filled and we needed to get to, through and somewhat beyond an old bascule bridge on Wappoo Creek.  The ICW passes through a narrow cut which is difficult if you are transiting against the current.  It is not any too wide  to allow private boats to pass each other, and recommended not to try to go if a barge is passing through.  We were on time and had it all to ourselves.  The barge was just approaching to enter as we exited.

     Today was predicted to have showers and thunder storms.  We had several morning and early afternoon showers where I would don my fouly jacket to break wind and rain.  Around 2, we could see a doozy building.  Around 2:20 the radio began passing along severe thunder storm warnings.  We were not going to outrun it, but hoped to get to an anchorage before it hit.  The wind hit with a vengeance as we were about a half mile from the anchorage, and the rain followed.  Storm warnings predicted gusts up to 60 miles an hour, and some of ours felt as though the prediction was correct.  Our dinghy with outboard engine on it was being towed short behind the boat.  Each blast of wind raised the bow up as though it would flip over backwards or do cartwheels at the end of its painter.  I think the only thing saving it was the short painter, although Barbara insists she was holding it down.

     We made it about 1/4 mile off the ICW, up the South Edisto River, before dropping anchor in 15 feet of water and a gale.  I was delighted to have a good anchor and 100 feet of chain, and let it all out.  After all, what good is keeping some of the chain dry if you drag anchor and wreck?  Hand signals worked OK between me at the bow and Barbara in the cockpit.  Words were impossible to hear.  She had to motor forward to get enough tension off the chain for me to set the chain lock.

     We went below and removed our wet foulies and heaved a sigh of relief.  We watched another boat motor past us and eventually anchor.   We chose marks on the shoreline to watch for confirming the anchor was holding.  As the storm abated, we had a cool one and treats.  Cribbage lessons were also given (mostly to me).

     The sky cleared and everything was bright and shiney!  Babara prepared a spinach stuffed pork tenderloin with salsa and served it with a glass of wine.  We adjourned to the cockpit to watch the beautiful sunset.  I carefully arranged the cushions and sat down only to find the sunset obscured by the fouly jackets hanging in my face! 

     Just as we stopped laughing at my inability to look up before choosing a seating site, the Prairie Home Companion was interrupted by the alert system.  Severe thunder storms with possible quarter size hail were passing nearby.  We could see the thunderheads and lightning in the distance.  As I write, we've battened down the hatches and the wind is building.

And from
Ray V.,

Submit and I are straining, all the chain is out

Come ahead, I signal, cause She can't hear me shout.

Up South Edisto, we endure a fierce squall

The dinghy is bucking like a bronc in his stall

Then calm...a brief respite...before the next bout.

boat names

SV "Escargot"

Barbara

the Admiral conning the helm admiralably

 

Charleston 23 march 2012

This morning we prepared to do the tourist thing in Charleston. This involved a dingy ride to the dock and a shuttle ride to the visitor center, where we learned a little bit about the city, watched a women making sweetgrass baskets, purchased a guide booklet to do a walking tour and then took the trolley to the City Market. The Market is typical, with booths of crafts, food, pottery, etc. Sweetgrass baskets everywhere. They are amazingly beautiful and quite expensive. I’m sure that they take a really long time to make and we were told that some of the grasses are becoming harder to find. I wish we would have remembered to take a picture of them to share with you.

We have learned that it is often a good idea to take some kind of city tour in order to get a lay of the land and discover where we might want to go visit in more depth. We decided the horse drawn tour would be fun. This included several churches, for which Charleston is noted, and lots of single houses. The single houses were designed to be a single room wide for maximum air flow. There is a portico (porch) all along one side with a door from the street as the main entrance, the portico being one of the nicest “rooms”. (Hope that is a good word picture, because we forgot to take a picture with the camera.) The next stop was for a cold libation and a chance to sit down to develop our plan of action. It turns out that we saw most of the places suggested while letting Barry pull us around. Here is a picture of Reggie “on the walking tour” accompanied by a glass of microwbrew Stout.

I guess we are not city folks. I’m sure that the shopping would be great, as there appeared to be many unusual shops and the architecture was interesting, but our knowledge is limited. We would have had more fun if Colin had been with us.

Continuing south.

Fwd: Re: marinas

you'll want to start at the bottom of this update to see what precipitated the below response.

Reggie

From: mike

 

Even at the Government Floats in most marinas, if I expect to have shore power (never used however), a secure tie up generally with ease of access to the local micro brewery, restuarants, shopping, etc.,  flushing latrines (heads for you swabbies), hot running water for showers (aaahhhhhhhhh:-)) that last as long as my quarters do, a basic chandlrey in the Harbour Master's office and other luxury items such as ice, soap for the washing machines and dryers, fresh water to refill the holding tanks, and the nearby convenience of fuel docks for diesel and possibly beer, .......then I expect to pay a reasonable sum for the rental of my now-private space in order to take full advantage of all the preceding described amenities.

 

However, should I prefer to wallow in the misery of my damp quarters, attempting to dry soggy clothing by hanging everything from the shroud and safety lines (assuming that the rain from the preceding three days has finally abated), luxuriate in the two gallon sun shower from the foredeck (which has seen none of its heat source for the past three days), brew my Top Romain and Couscous over my single burner sterno stove or attempt to ignite my kerosene stove without causing a major explosion or flames leaping up to inflame the headliner of the salon......., not to mention having to re-inflate the now-deflated dingey filled with at least 2" of cold water, clambor overboard to row some indeterminable distance against the always prevailing headwind and chop (previously described by the authors) seated on cushions of several life vests in an unsuccessful attempt to keep my bottom dry, find a secure place to leave the craft whilst walking the extra distance to said micro brewery, restuarants and liquor store, and especially, being able to CONTINUE TO USE my wonderful on-board hand pump toilet and self-contained holding tank (or composting device, whew!), then I pat myself on the back and congratulate my sailing companion on having saved another moorage fee.  And then, late at night and well after dark, returning to my dinghy and (assuming it is still where I left it), re-rowing back to where I thought I had left my floating home (before discovering that the anchor had dragged and that it is now quite some distance from where I previously left it - occassionally impaled against someone else's floating mansion or the rocks of the now-too-near shore), against the always prevailing head wind and chop that has turned 180 degrees, and somehow managing to re-board without going for a swim first, and finally climbing into my damp bunk where I can drift off to fitful sleep eventually, by mentally counting up the money I've saved today before rising again to check that anchor that feels like it's dragged again. 

 

After all, in the age of our middle sixties, why should we either want or expect to enjoy some of life's little comforts when we can go to sleep in our damp underwear knowing that when the final moment arrives, we CAN take it all with us??

 

mEm

From: Reggie

Thanks, Brad.  I knew I could count on you for perspective!

Reggie From: Capitalistic bastards!


 
>Do we have yet more proof that I must be a bit of a cheapskate in
>some ways?  I find it difficult to digest that I should pay $75 or
>more per night to sleep inmy own bed.  Anchors away!
>
>Reggie

slow day

A little sleeping in.

A couple cups of coffee in the bunk.

A modest, easy, quick breakfast.

Develop and use a new method of lowering the outboard engine to Barbara to mount on the dinghy.  Much better.

Reinstall dinghy seat. 

Load life jackets.

Load seat bag with pump, spare parts, etc.

Reattach oars.

Load and attach fuel tank and hose for engine which has not been run since last October.

Load empty water jugs.

Load sack of garbage. 

Load Barbara's large shoulder bag with shopping bags.

Watch Reggie's controlled fall into the rear of the dinghy. 

Watch Barbara row dinghy up-wind and up current, slowly but with great effort, "because we need the exercise".

Listen to Barbara say it's OK to use the engine now.

Listen to engine start up on 4th pull. (Love old 2-strokes)

Watch us wander all over large marina looking for dinghy dock, following confusing directions.

Listen to us being told not to tie up to the dock we find because it is the wrong one.

Watch us wander over to another dock and tie up.

Listen to us being told we have tied up to the wrong one.. but it is ok to stay.

Listen to the cruiser telling us about the local private shuttle to West Marine which doesn't ask if you belong.

Shop hurriedly for a dinghy part and groceries so we don't miss the shuttle back.

Remove outer cardboard packaging and dispose of same while waiting for shuttle.

Haul our cloth grocery sacks full of stuff to dinghy. (aren't we green?)

Take much shorter direct route back to boat.

Offload everything from dinghy. 

Have a beer. 

Put away groceries.

Barbara takes nap.

Reggie puts new part on dinghy and finishes assembling it.

Reggie joins Barbara for nap.

Wake up to have a libation and watch "Submit" slowly drift off muddy bottom as tide comes in.

Give each other Cribbage lessons

Oh look!  Its time for dinner and wine!

arrived Charlston

Arrived in Charleston with the thunder storm. The anchorage was exposed to the south, which is exactly from where the wind and waves were coming. Not a fun place to be and it looked like it would be getting worse before it got better. We opted to go up the ditch a little to get out of the weather and dropped anchor just past the bridge. Reggie says we anchored here before, but I guess I wasn’t with him on the trip?? After we were secure and peeled off our jackets, we sat down to a snack and libation. The rain stopped the sun came out and all is well. We may stay put for the night or move back into the Charleston Harbor, who knows.

Last night we anchored in Graham Creek, in a wildlife preserve. There were lots of birds and they were the only real wild life there was. We were not very wild. We were puzzled by the little “orangeish” fish that sort of rolled on the surface. Was something trying to get them? Or were they busy getting their meal? As we were pulling anchor, a friendly little ray fish waved at us with one wing, rolled over and waved with the other one, back and forth, back and forth. “Orangeish” fish mystery solved-we feel badly about not being more friendly to the little rays.  

Farther south

Farther south. 20 March, 2012

            I saw our first wild palm tree today, at around statute mile 428 on the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW), just a couple miles above McClellanville, SC.  I had been looking for them since leaving Baltimore last fall.  They were to be my indicator of truly being back down south.

            We were looking for an excuse to stop in McClellanville, but could find none.  It used to be producer of canned oysters, but nobody buys canned oysters these days so that industry dried up.  Shucks.

            We met our first barge of the trip.  I recall our concerns about meeting barges when we first set out several years ago in areas of heavy commercial traffic.  It is pretty much a non-event.  They throw virtually no wake, which made me think of erosion from wakes.  It is easy and worrisome to see the damage caused by boat wakes, but the barges don’t contribute much to this.  Neither do the sailboats.  Power boats of all sizes throw substantial wakes depending on their size, hull design and speed.  A big boat can throw a small wake and vice versa.  The worst we’ve seen come from a variety of boats referred to as sport fishermen.  Those wakes can roll us violently if we don’t turn to catch them bow on, and you can see the wake ripping along shore as it progresses along.  It won’t surprise me to hear of imposed speed limits someday just to prevent erosion.

            Other sights of the day?  Pelicans diving into the water around us.  Storks and other long legged long necked birds fishing in the shallows.  Dolphins rising around the boat.  Bright light green spring leaves on trees and shrubs.  A couple on another sailboat cuddling under a blanket in their cockpit to watch the sunset.

            We passed an anchorage where we stopped in April of 2010 when headed north for Ben’s graduation in DC.  We saw notes on the chart indicating the previous owner had anchored there in April of 2005 when he brought the boat south from Maryland.

            Many boats passed us heading north.  Their sterns showed home ports in MD, RI, MA, ME and other states.  We’re still watching for our first Canadian.

            Barbara had a heavy workload today.  She relieved me briefly at the helm a couple times, did some domestic chores such as cleaning the portlights, took care of some of our business items on line, made tasty sandwiches and veggies for lunch, did a little light reading, took a nap, helped with anchoring, and prepared a nice dinner, and worked on a wiring project for our dinette light as electrician trainee for the vessel.  She also brought me a cold beer after we anchored, and a couple libations as the evening wore on.  The poor lady needs a vacation!

            I have a couple updates to pass along.  The first is to Craig Johnston.  He and his wife Barbara graciously accepted us as crew several years ago from St Helens, OR, down the west coast to San Francisco Bay, and then again from the Royal Kingdom of Tonga to New Zealand.  Craig was involved in destructive testing of Nike products.  Well, Craig, I’ve been involved in my own version of destructive testing of a pair of size 14 Nikes for several years.  I thought they were finally ready to die when a flap of sole started working loose.  Upon further inspection, they seem to holding up surprisingly well.  I mentioned to my bride that I would ask you what to use to re-attach the loose sole material and she suggested I should buy a new pair and not be such a cheap so and so.  However, I’m starting to see this as a challenge, so recommendations would be appreciated, Craig.

             The second may appeal to Sean and Jeanne.  The Westerkins starts right up every time and runs 40 PSI oil pressure and 180 temp and purrs along by the hour.

            Tomorrow, Charleston.

Last night at anchor in Georgetown, SC

Barbara rows the inflatable dinghy one way and I the other when we go to town.  There are two public dinghy docks available and so far we've been able to pick the one which is up wind and up current when it is time to return to "Submit"

We've eaten at Buzz's Roost, breakfasted at Thomas's Cafe, had Edy's peanut butter cup ice cream, and lunched at Big Tuna.

We've toured old mansions and local museums.

We skipped the local $40 per person annual Sock Burning fund raiser.

We met very nice folks.

We did a little street walking.

We regret we will miss the "Oyster Roast and Pig Pickin'" this weekend! 

Dinner out is not high on our list.  Most restaurants serve about the same things for lunch at a third to half off what they charge for dinner.  We've slipped into the cruiser's mentality of trying to be a little parsimonious.

If we make it to town in time, we may have a late breakfast, like today's low country omelet and cheese grits.  If we lunch, it is usually a little late.  It is just so nice to be back to the boat sipping a cold one or a glass of wine, enjoying something tasty we concoct, and enjoying the sunset.  We also prefer to be back at the boat if there are any late day thunderstorms.

If we close the unscreened companionway and hatches at the first sign of bugs, it stays bug-less.  We're very glad we opted for screens for the opening portlights and that we have the solar fan.

Tomorrow's plan is to put in a modest day of approximately 40 miles before anchoring out in the middle of nowhere.  For those of you who aren't aware, we can average about 6 miles an hour.  Woohoo!

Another 30 miles on Wednesday will put us in Charleston where we plan to spend a couple days.  All suggestions for sights and activities in the Charleston area will be appreciated.

pictures?

a more flattering view of "Submit"

our heavily loaded transport vehicle from Jacksonville FL to Myrtle Beach SC

proof we did it and made it there

what holds up your boat while its "on the hard"?

who says I need a new rudder?

other oft used and well maintained boats from our last boatyard.

Aaand there they go! 3/17/2012

I was awake at 4:30 am, working on the computer before 5, starting the coffee around 6.  Barbara was able to sleep in. 
 
She fires up first try!  So did the engine when we left later!
 
Barbara had her first cup of coffee delivered to her in her berth, did some Sudoku on her Nook, and her morning computer chores.  I slaved away preparing our breakfast of cold cereal and bananas.  We marveled again at our delight at having a manual a trash compactor for our refuse.
 
We loaded up the spare rudder ( how many of you sailors sail with a spare rudder?), then returned the U-Haul truck to the local pet store.  They were baby-sitting a bird which talks.  It kept whistling for and calling the dog.  A fellow came in with a blue healer who was going crazy trying to figure out what to do and where to go.
 
Back at the boat, a little cleanup, fire up the iron genoa, cast off the lines and away we go!  We had a calm day motoring about 33 miles to Georgetown, Sc, arriving just before the thunder storm.  We were told there are lots of alligators but that’s a croc!  Didn’t see one.
 
For most of the day a sail would have been useless.  For about an hour, though, it would have been great.  Too bad we have not had time to hank them on.  The gib will be added soon.  The mainsail is questionable due to damage from our sailing in the Chesapeake.
 
We are the rarity as we head south.  All the other cruisers are headed back north for the summer
 
One problem for the day was Horde of the Flies!  We traversed a section of the Waccamaw River where there were bunches of huge nasty horseflies attempting to get us.  I’m not sure of Barbara’s score, but for me, horseflies 2, Reggie 5.
 
Barbara made us a tasty hors d’ouvres  of sharp cheddar with turkey pepperoni on toasted sandwich thins cut to cracker size, serve with Goslings Black Seal rum straight up. 
 
She just finished cooking pork chops, steamed asparagus, and cauliflower mashed in the manual food processor with cream cheese, to be served with wine.
 
Several folks have asked to have pictures included with the updates.  We may attempt that.  However, in the past it caused complaints because the pictures were too “big” and some folks have antiquated computers.  Meanwhile, we have antiquated photo editing skills, so it remains to be “seen”.
 
For tonight, we’ll have a possibly not so quiet night at anchor across form Buzz’s Roost on St. Patty’s day, thanks to the bagpipes.  Tomorrow, we’ll do a little sight seeing around town and gather information about possible activities for Monday.

She's all wet! 3/16/2012

Well, I've been castigated by my secretary.  (now I can only talk in a high squeaky voice!)

 

"I believe a correction is in order. I was the one who mentioned to you on Monday evening 'why not rent a Uhaul truck?"

But like most men you paid no attention to my suggestion but Barbara was listening......."

 

 thank you Marie and Barbara

 

She's splashed!  S/V "Submit" was re-launched after lunch with minimal problems.  I had started the Westerbeke 4.107 just briefly on the hard to make sure she would.  She started after about the third piston up.  I only let it run about 5 seconds. 

 

The antique travel lift (I'm not kidding.  some of it operates by hand crank!) hauled us to the water and set me in.  I expected to be held in the slings long enough to start and warm up the engine, but I guess they were anxious to get rid of us?  I was waiting for their signal when I noticed I was drifting away from the slings.  Quick like a bunny (as they say.  those who know me will convulse at the thought of me being quick or like a bunny) I started the engine.  It fired up instantly and ran great.....for about 10 seconds.  Drat.  air in the fuel line.  Oh well, I am drifting the right direction thanks to a slight breeze.  Drat.  soft grounding in their alleyway.  (Barbara says "Everything is great.  We're back on Submit.  engine dies.  run aground.") 

 

Barbara walks to the end of a highly questionable finger pier to chat with me.  And I see the water level slowly creeping down the piling next to her.  Not quite low water yet.

 

Barbara is really wanting to be on the boat but is too far away.  So, its time to inflate the dinghy!  find pump.  unpack dinghy.  haul to foredeck.  unroll.  100 strokes of the foot pump for the port side.  100 strokes of the pump for the starboard side.  throw it overboard.  remember to hold on to painter.  add long line to painter.  shove dinghy away towards Barbara's shore.  Wait painful minutes while dying, eddying wind slowly carries dinghy to her.  Watch her push it away with her foot the first time it gets close!

 

It's back!  She's in!  Pull her to "Submit" and she crawls aboard>

 

And the water level has dropped another 4".  So, why not have late lunch?  No, I won't bore you with the bite by bite, but by the time we are done, the water level is barely starting to rise.

 

So, off to engine stuff.  Open high pressure fuel lines at 3 of the 4 injectors, set fuel control to full speed ahead, crank starter.  fuel and bubbles.  fuel begins to spray.  a cylinder fires.  close one line.  runs better.  close the other two.  runs great!  for 10 seconds.  Drat!  do it all again.  step by step and success!  for ten seconds.  Drat!  do it all again.  Success!  ten seconds, 15, 20, all is well and she is purring as of old.  Just as we begin to drift again!

 

We motor to the remains of the antique docks and Tom, twice as big as me, helps us tie up.  Shut down engine.  Hook up shore power.  go to office to settle up our bill in case they are not here tomorrow.

 

Off to the stores, Hiyo U-Haul away!  Some dollar store shopping, a liquor store, a grocery store, a filling station (don't turn in the U-Haul with less fuel than you received it or else!) an oriental drive through (reminds me of a chain of tiny oriental takeout places in New Orleans decades ago called "Takee Outee") and back to the boat.  Have dinner, put away groceries, reconnect propane for morning coffee, a glass of wine, and a report for the masses.

 

"Submit"ing to the cruising life is good!

Reggie

Arrived

Arrived at Submit 15 March, 2012

 
We arrived at S/V Submit this morning to find her in better shape than expected.  No mold or mildew after being closed up for 5 months!  No dead flies, not dirty and dusty inside.
 
For those unaware, she has been on the hard at Hague Marina in Myrtle Beach, SC.  Our plan is to take her on a cruise farther down the Intracoastal Waterway to Green Cove Springs Marina, on the St. Johns River south of Jacksonville, FL.  There we will do some major upgrades with an eye towards taking her to the Bahamas next trip.  We don’t know if our trip will take 10 days or a month.  We hope to find interesting sights and activities along the way.  Suggestions appreciated!!!!
 
We’ve filled the port water tank and the propane is on and the batteries are topping up.  The refrigerator is stocked and cooled.  Barbara prepared a tasty boat meal, and we are enjoying a bottle of Luck Duck cabernet from Chile, for we are truly lucky ducks to be back in our soon-to-be floating second home.
 
Tons of little projects done and some to do before they launch us tomorrow with the antique travel lift.  We’ll make an additional shopping run for supplies at the good deal local Food Lion, and perhaps some disposable throw rugs at the dollar store.  Then, we’ll turn in the U-Haul TM (10 foot van for the uninitiated).  It has averaged 15 miles per gallon driving 60 to 70 miles an hour, so wasn’t as bad as it could have been.
 
And what would have made us think of renting a U-Haul truck?  It was Barbara’s idea after we ran into no rental vehicles available in Jacksonville, FL.  She was hoping for a pickup or a van, but none were available for our trip.  So, we settled for the smallest moving truck.  After all, we did have 2 carry-ons!  We have pictures, but have not yet figured out how to download them from the camera!
 
Barbara’s report from last night sparked several responses including the following. Thanks Ray!
 

Wave to the transit man who wouldn't take a nickle

U-Haul man is cummin, to get us out of a pickle

No cars for rent, or even cross walk  the road

We'll make it to the Cal in a truck with no load

Beats peddlin' to Myrtle on a tandem bicycle

How will we get there?

How will we get there?

We spent 12 hours on planes and in airports. There were no real complications or surprises, so some might say it was a boring day, I choose to say it was relaxing. Our room was nice and we slept well.

This morning the adventure started. We were unable to find a car to rent. I guess most of the cars on the road must be rentals. After calling every rental company, we found one that had a car, but they wanted either an arm or a leg. We looked at plane, train and bus-some options wanted an arm and a leg, some were really inconvenient. Keep looking….how about U-Haul? As I write this, we are headed to Myrtle Beach in a 10 foot truck, loaded with our two carry-on bags! It remains to be seen if this was the best option, but it has given us the most laughs. I do have to say that the U-Haul personnel were suburb. We changed our pick up location 3 times! The problem was we didn’t know where the locations were and how best to get there.  We finally settled on walking a block, a bus ride to the Rosa Parks bus terminal, a 45 minute wait, another bus ride to a local mall, and then the friendly U-Haul dealer locked his shop to come and pick us up. He didn’t want us to have to cross the express way carrying our luggage. We tried to convince him that we really could walk the couple blocks, but I think he was concerned about our abilities, given the trouble we had deciding where to pick up the truck.

Oh, yes, I almost forgot. We were sure to have the exact amount for the bus ride, which is a rule, but when we got on the bus the kind driver told us we didn’t have to pay. I guess we look our age, even if we don’t act it.