Days 7 to 11 - Real Weather!

Day 7 - Anticipation

After the quiet of the swamp and fresh water we returned to salt water and began to prepare in earnest for the approaching weather we knew was coming. We traveled through Georgetown, South Carolina, a real industrial town, and hurried on entering the Romain National Wildlife refuge north of Charleston that offered no protection from the wind. We anchored in Price Creek, a salt water marsh that seemed to stretch forever. We later found out the SV Dalmatian from Stratford, NH was anchored just one creek over. We are sorry to have missed them. We struggled with anchorning a bit, but soon settled in for a good evening. We were sorry to leave that beautiful spot.

 

Day 8 - Rain

The rain started in earnest on Day 8 as we approached Charleston. We passed several barges, an opening bridge and then entered Charleston Harbor. We thought of stopping but it was a busy bustling place and we were anxious to keep moving. The rain didn't make it sound all that inviting either. We were once again behind Sangaris and travelled across the harbor right behind them. There was a large freighter anchored in our path. The ICW is marked by navigational markers with yellow squares and triangles and we spend all day trying to stay on the correct path to avoid trouble of all kinds. The anchored freighter radioed to tell the three tiny boats entering the harbor to go around their bow, we were sure glad we weren't in the lead as we stryed from the marked trail!  Finally free of Charleston, we hurried on, through another bridge and entered what is known as the Elliot Cut. We had read a caution that the current was fast, but Wholy Smoke, it was ripping! It was beyond doubt the scariest bit of the trip so far. We entered the cut with a little sail boat that had been following us for two days, right on our tail. The cut was just that, a cut between two natural water bodies and rocks lined each side of the narrow channel. Bob steered and I continued to add power as we went through, full throttle at a crawl. Finally, free of the heavy current, we continued until we found Toogoodoo Creek that offered some protection from the ever increasing wind. We had to travel a considerable distance to get in behind some trees but finally anchored and settled in for the evening. Bob or I were awake pretty much the whole night as the winds rocked the boat at 20 to 25 knots but we made it through and were happy to be on our way the following morning.



 

Day 9 - Wind and water

The winds continued on Day 9 as we traversed several large bodies of water. The wind and waves were enough that Kim, Anna and Finn all began to feel a little green around the gills. Kim solved the problem by taking the wheel. Anna and Finn slept it off, Anna in the cockpit and Finn in Mom and Dad's bed. Once we were out of the sound, things quieted down and all were well again. We had been keeping an eye open for a place to stop near a West Marine and decided a stop in Beaufort, SC would serve the prurpose. We pulled in at the Port Royal Landing Marina just south of Beaufort and were greeted by the dock master, retired police officer, Dale, from Bath, New Hampshire.  Bob and I had been in Beaufort before and it was just as cold the first time we were there! Hats, mittens and full gear, I even had on gloves and mittens together at one point. Dale said we must have brought the bad weather with us. We both agreed though that it was probably worse in NH. We had a nice dinner at the little bar and grill at the marina except for the smoke, we are just not used to that anymore! We even did an extra load of laundry to wash all the closthes worn to the restaurant.



 Day 10 - Glorious and had a real sail

Day 10 dawned, still windy with steep waves. The night had been bumpy and wrestless even tied to a dock. The tides were extreme due to the wind and moon and boats were waiting to pass under the fixed bridge adjacent the marina. Bob was able to use a loaner car from the marina and took a trip to West Marine and the grocery store to stock up milk and vegetables. By the time he returned, the sun had come out and the wind was beginning to settle down. We spent the morning tidying up the cabin and had some lunch and pulled away from the dock  to make time before sundown. As we got into the Port Royal Sound, south of Beaufort, Bob was able to coach me into getting the main up for the first time. I was truly nervous but followed the captain's strict orders and we got the main and then the genoa up. Bob cut the motor and we sailed in peace throungh the beautiful afternoon weather. The sail was short run and we continued on finding a quiet anchorage in the New River just north of the Georgia border. It would have been the first real restful evening at anchor except for the little guy that crawled into my spot, relegating me to a thin slice of real estate in my own bed, around 12:30 A.M.

 

Day 11 - Entered Georgia

We left the New River and pulled in behind two other sailboats heading south, one turned out to be from Maine. I am afraid to admit that school has not been the top priority over the past few weeks and we finally decided we are not going to go another day without getting through Anna's math facts test. The math book requires a three-minute maximum for 100 facts. We decided at the beginning of the year that we would have the facts down solid before moving on to multiplication and division. It was a gray day, cold and dark. The tides are still extreme so we were able to travel in relative ease most of the day, only hitting lows in the late afternoon. Sangaris once again caught up to us and talked us through anchoring at Cattle Pen Creek, a quiet but narrow creek. We anchored at slack low so Bob, Anna and Finn were able to take off for a lttle paddle in the dinghy and some visiting with Scott and Tina on the Sangaris and one other boat, Harmony. Thanks to Evie on Harmony for the sunset photos of Midwatch and the candy canes.

Still not warm here but we have gone far enough south and west to extend the afternoon significantly.

Sunset over Midwatch on Cattle Pen Creek.