The Trek North

Our stay in Saint Augustine is pleasant and productive, but we have a goal of getting to Annapolis by May 18^th, so we take a calm weather window to head as far north as possible.  Like many passages, it is mostly uneventful and sometimes boring. At other times, though, it is serenely beautiful as witnessed by this spectacular full moonrise. 

  

Another time we are entertained by a pod of over a dozen dolphins which play in our bow wake in the clear ocean water for at least 30 minutes. 

A mother and a youth play in the wake

Two more come by - notice how the top one has rolled over on its side to look at us. This is common for dolphins to want to have eye contact with people.

We find we have virtually no wind for the entire 60 hours, so rather than risk running out of fuel when rounding Cape Hattarus, we duck into Beaufort, North Carolina and anchor in the creek that flows past town.  One on side we have Beaufort with its waterfront restaurants and shops, and on the other side, in contrast, is the Stillwagen Banks National Seashore with one of its wild horses grazing nearby.  

No more than 100 yards away a wild horse grazes by the shore.

We don’t stay long in Beaufort, though, as the first tropical storm of the season is bearing down on us in an unpredictable fashion.  Tropical Storm Ana is forecast to make landfall somewhere in the Carolinas sometime in the coming six days. While we won’t see hurricane strength winds, we would like to be at a protected dock somewhere away from the open ocean. So, we head twenty miles inland to Oriental and take a dock at a marina that has an attached three story hotel to the southeast, the direction from which the winds will come. And we wait.  We are at a dock so we can accomplish lots of tasks with readily available water and electricity and nearby marine supply stores. I even sweet talk the local hardware store into delivering a steam cleaner to the dock so I can clean the carpet and upholstery.  And we wait.  Others have congregated in Oriental so we enjoy drinks and dinners out with cruising friends.  And we wait.  Five days later Anna finally makes landfall near the North/South Carolina boarder and we see only winds in the low twenties.  It’s not over yet, though, as we have to remain one more day since the winds have blown all the water out of the harbor and we are aground in our slip. 

We depart Oriental the following morning and work our way up the ICW to a sunset anchorage at the remote south end of the Alligator River.  We can see a few other boats anchored in the distance but otherwise there is nothing around until four F-18’s begin doing practice routines overhead. We suspect they practice in remote places like this so that the noise doesn’t bother people in  more developed areas, but the noise is so loud we can hardly hear each other speak.  The next day we motor sail northwards against a strong north wind and cross the riled up Albemarle Sound.  This is an ill advised tactic and many of the other boats heading our way, turn back.  But we persevere as we have a goal, and, in the meantime, discover all the places the boat can leak water – more maintenance ahead for Burt!  It is my birthday so in celebration we get a dock in Coinjock, NC, a little hole in the wall village that sports a well recommended restaurant famous for its prime rib.  One must place their dinner order ahead of time, so we order one 16 ounce (as opposed to the 32 oz.) prime rib dinner for Burt and an additional order of sides for me as I will share this huge slab of meat, all for $22.  It is some of the best prime rib we have ever had, and in addition, I am treated to a free dessert since it is my birthday.  What a deal!!!

The next day we depart Coinjock with a huge group of boats and begin the slog through several opening bridges and one lock that separate the ICW from the Chesapeake.  Usually the timing is such that sailboats can not make all the bridge openings without having to idle away waiting for an opening, but this time, due to the large number of boats passing through and one very kind bridge tender, we tagged along at the end of the fleet and made all the bridges, squeezing into the last available spot in the lock.  We have never been able to do this before, and we arrive in Norfolk/Portsmouth early enough to snag one of the free docks on the Portsmouth side. 

Norfolk's commercial side is evidenced by a proliferation of cranes and dry docks along the Elizabeth River.

And as we leave Norfolk, we pass  an incoming aircraft carrier - one of the smaller ones but no means very small compared to us.

The Chesapeake awaits and in two long days, with help from spring’s long hours of sunlight, we find ourselves picking up the last remaining mooring ball in front of the Naval Academy in Annapolis. The ball, by most people’s standards, would be less desirable as it is a distance from the dinghy dock, but for us it is outstanding.  Why?  Because in two days the Blue Angels will be arriving in Annapolis for Commissioning Week at the Academy, and we have the PERFECT vantage spot for watching the show.  On Tuesday morning the jets roar into town doing multiple passes over the area in which they will perform.  That afternoon we are treated to an hour rehearsal with some of the planes seeming to fly just over the top of our mast.  The noise is unbelievable; the precision beyond our expectations.  That night the pilots are visiting Annapolis in the company of some of the midshipmen, and we see them walking down the street to constant applause from the surrounding crowds. And on Wednesday afternoon they give the formal performance.  Annapolis harbor is chock a block full of boats – private ones anchored as far as they eye can see and many tour boats, some of which are brought down from Baltimore, with customers packing all the decks.  It is pandemonium, but we are happily bobbing away on our mooring watching the spectacle with friends who are anchored further up Spa Creek. The experience leaves us with goose flesh.  A narration was broadcast over a local radio station but the roar of the planes obliterated the radio at its highest volume.  At times the jets seem so close that the wings are touching.   And at the conclusion, they performed the missing man maneuver, where five jet leave in formation while the sixth turns skyward, dedicating it to a midshipman who had died the previous week in the Amtrack accident in Philadelphia.  It was unbelievably moving. And in a similar vein, I discovered on the internet that the Blue Angels have a ten percent fatality rate – it is obviously a dangerous career. 

The Blue Angels arrive skimming over the tops of nearby masts.

All six together in the opening portion.

Afterburners and vapor trailing off the wings.

So close you can see the pilots - Burt thinks the further one is looking at him; I think he's checking the critical distance between his neighboring jet.

Some of the maneuvers seem downright goofy.

Others are simply awe inspiring.

 

But we are in Annapolis for more than the Blue Angels.  In celebration of qualifying for

Medicare, we are changing our health care providers to doctors in the Annapolis area.  It makes more sense to schedule routine visits somewhere where we can stay on the boat and visit more than once a year.  It is a laborious process to line up the full array of providers from long distance, but we seem to have most everything resolved and we can reach offices either by bike or the local bus service.  Along with doctor visits, we are doing more repairs and maintenance.  Burt is busy varnishing and redoing the fuel system for the dinghy while I empty all the cabinets in the boat, thoroughly clean them for any mold, and inventory our supplies in anticipation of a major reprovisioning run with a rental car. The EPRIB’s battery has expired so that is taken to a shop for an overhaul. All the canvas is removed from the boat, treated for mildew and waterproofed. It all takes some creativity as we usually do this spring maintenance at a dock, not a mooring ball, but we have succeeded.  We take a little time off to visit with friends.  One cruising couple has just purchased a home on a creek near Annapolis.  We are invited over to their house a mere nine days after they moved in and are very flattered to help christen their new abode.  The view through their front door, out the wall of windows in the back and down the wooded slope to the water where their sailboat is docked is priceless. It is moments like this that make you long for a home again. 

On the mooring, it is fun to be a turning mark on a tight spinnaker leg as the Wednesday racers head to the finish at the Annapolis Yacht Club.

So, we will remain in Annapolis for about ten more days until all the doctor visits are completed.  Then it is off to hopefully cooler New England for the remainder of the summer.