Winding Down the Waterway

Our departure from Norfolk is delayed several days as we anxiously await the email from Europe concerning our battery charger which, incidentally, never comes.  To fill the time we play tourist.  The first day is spent on the Portsmouth side, walking through the historical district and exploring Skipjack’s, an exceptionally nice nautical antique and art store.   

Home in Portsmouth historical district

We stop for dinner and a movie at the Commodore, a restored 1940 vintage theater that offers first run movies and light dinners with seating in comfortable chairs around café tables.  Appropriately enough they are showing “A Dolphin’s Tale”.  The next day we venture over to Norfolk and the Nauticus Center, a museum of naval history which features the battleship Wisconsin docked along side.  Once again we are dwarfed by the size of the battleship, over 1000 feet long. It was decommissioned shortly after the first Gulf War and is now open to the general public.  

Burt measures up to the bow of the Wisconsin

Teak decks and BIG guns

We are getting restless, so we leave the next morning for the approximately 1100 statute miles that await our arrival in Miami.  Passing by huge dry docks housing naval vessels undergoing refits and forests of oversized cranes, we don’t get very far as the bridges and one lock are timed to allow passage only during non-rush hour.

Naval vessel in a dry dock

There’s no point in proceeding past mile 11.  We stop after the only lock on the Virginia Cut portion of the waterway at Great Bridge and the town of Chesapeake and shoe-horn ourselves into the one remaining tie-up along the river while the folks onshore helping us with docklines cheer a rather amazing feat of docking – Burt’s ego won’t need any more stroking today!  We will stay for two nights due to weather.  But, that’s not all bad.  There’s an excellent grocery store and very nice laundromat within walking distance, I can get a much needed haircut, and the very friendly cruisers with whom we share the wall are organizing Happy Hour. Less than half a mile away in a marina is a friend from Mansfield who is captaining another boat south, so we have an opportunity to catch up in person rather than by radio.

The weather becomes more suitable for moving so we take off for the first bridge opening.  Our group of ten boats is traveling in convoy style, timing our speed to coincide with the restricted bridge openings along the outskirts of the Norfolk area. 

Playing "Follow the Leader" in the ICW

Then we get to the first supposedly 65 foot vertical clearance non-opening bridge, supposedly because there are rumors that some contractors have skimped on bridge clearances.  It should be no problem but water levels are up due to strong south winds, and we are cutting it closer than we would like.  One 56’ long sailboat that was on display at the Annapolis Boat Show is anchored just short of the bridge – they have been there two days and can’t go through until the water drops.  A catamaran in our entourage has taken off its wind instruments and anchor light in attempt to shorten its height.  It is decided we are the shortest questionable mast so we will go through first with everyone else behind, taking sites on our clearance.  Crawling through at low speed, we clear by about six inches above our antenna, the cat bumps its antenna along the bridge beams, and the 56’ sailboat stays put.   We have several more of these nail – biters ahead, so we stay with the catamaran communicating by radio and putting the binoculars to good use.  By 3:30 we make it to Albemarle Sound, and once again it’s decision time.  The winds are perfect for a lovely sail across this body of water but it’s getting a little late in the day.  We decide to go for it and for two hours enjoy a splendid beam reach across what is sometimes an unpleasant crossing to the Alligator River.  We just get the anchor set when the sun goes down.

Anchoring at sunset in the Alligator  River

We are in a period of settled weather now.  We cruise down the Waterway, through the backwaters of the Outer Banks and miles of barren swamp land with very few signs of human presence. 

Typical scene along the ICW in northern North Carolina

We choose to stop in Bellehaven as we have heard comments that this is a very pleasant town.  While a nice place and excellent anchorage, there is nothing really remarkable about it, although it gives us an opportunity to go ashore and take a walk.

The next destination is Oriental and a return to the prior home of Exuberant.  After some very nice sailing, an unusual event when traversing the ICW, we pull into a dock.  We need fuel, water, and have to pick up some mail.  As soon as we tie up we are greeted by another couple who also sail out of Sandusky.  We have not met them before but we have friends in common.  Again, we experience the “small world” phenomena. We see other familiar faces we met here two years ago while commissioning our boat.  It’s time to celebrate our homecoming to Oriental.  

Celebrating our Oriental homecoming

 We pop a bottle of champagne, a going away gift from friends in Ohio, and later six of us, all from the Great Lakes, go to dinner at the marina restaurant and share stories of our Erie Canal experience. One couple also trucked their boat while the couple from Sandusky spent over two weeks trapped in one of the eastern locks. We now have retraced our path of two years ago and tomorrow we set off towards new territory.

It’s another beautiful day and we work our way through rivers and interlocking canals, contending with generally courteous large power boats and a huge tug and barge.  It’s a narrow passage so you take serious notice of surrounding traffic.  We transit the confusing maze of channels near Beaufort, NC and exit the ICW through the Class A inlet to the Atlantic. Our destination, about nine miles away, is Point Lookout Bight.  We have heard good things about this anchorage, but are still surprised when we enter a mile wide hook of sand dunes giving virtually 360 degrees of protection.  Cape Lookout is the very southern end of the Outer Banks and sports a well known lighthouse.  

Point Lookout Lighthouse

We hop into the dinghy and check out the beaches.  We’ve been longing to wiggle our toes in North Carolina’s famous white powder soft sand, and we’re not disappointed.  

Beach at low tide in the Point Lookout Bight

We’re kept company by pelicans, dolphins, and even one large sea turtle.  The only other signs of life consist of four other boats anchored in the large expanse for the night and a few fishing boats here for the day.  We hike across the dunes to the ocean side and find a number of people camping out and surf fishing this long expanse of shore. 

Oceanside beach at Point Lookout

It’s a remarkable place that is a bit off the beaten track for most cruisers.  A cold front with its accompanying strong winds is passing though so we will stay through the night and next day while we make plans and preparations for our first ocean passage, a 70 nautical mile trip to Wrightsville Beach and the Masonboro Inlet. We need to do this as an overnight so we can arrive in daylight and with a slack tide.

Truckin' Down the Bay

It’s rainy and windy Wednesday, and we’re thinking “south”.  Thus, the trek begins with a passage from Galesville to Solomon’s Island, a sail of about 45 miles.  Despite the gloomy weather, we have a wonderful breeze off our beam and are making great time down the Bay.  It’s tempting to keep going, but we know we can find a secure anchorage in the nearby Mill Creek so we pull in for the night.  The rain picks up to a downpour just as Burt begins to drop the anchor.  He gets soaked, we get set, and it’s down below for the remainder of the night.

The next day is equally gloomy and the wind is directly on our nose, so we motor the entire way into Deltaville in building waves.  It’s a bumpy 50 mile ride, made more unpleasant by the fact that we are concerned about our alternator and don’t feel comfortable using the additional power necessary to run the autopilot.  We pull into Jackson Creek, drop anchor, and enjoy the peace and quiet, a glass of wine, and a partially clearing sky in time for sunset.  Once our minds clear we realize the alternator problem was merely an accidentally flipped switch; the system works just fine. As an added plus we see our first pelicans, one of our favorite water birds.

We plan to spend a lay over day in Deltaville but notice all the other boats in the anchorage are taking off.  A quick check of the weather indicates that today would be a better traveling day than tomorrow. So, we get a late start for our next destination, Norfolk.  The lesson here is to check multiple sources of weather and not be sucked into decisions by the acts of other boats.  Once we get out on to the Bay we see winds on our nose in excess of 30 knots.  The square waves are building to huge proportions for the Chesapeake. A further check of weather shows that our initial source got it all wrong.  We power on, sometimes making as little as 2 knots to our destination.  It’s time for Plan B.  We study the charts and find a little creek that will be well protected from the strong SW winds.  Several hours later we negotiate the intricate entrance to the Poquoson River and Chisman Creek.  We are the only transient boat here; the shoreline hosts homes and a few small marinas, but the bottom line is that this is a real quiet place.  A cold front has gone through and we enjoy a beautiful sunset in clearing skies.

Sunset at Chisman Creek

 The next day is almost as windy so we decide to motor up the York River to Yorktown. It’s less than ten miles in open water so the discomfort level is no where near that of yesterday.  We pull up to the waterfront municipal docks with the harbormaster and another boater helping with docklines in the swift current and strong wind.  Things go smoothly, and we are not even completely tied up when the announcement is made for Happy Hour at 5:00. The other two visiting boats are trawlers and our past experiences indicate that trawler owners are very friendly and sociable people.  This is going to be a fun stop. Besides the two trawlers, there are two resident tall ships at the dock along with the Godspeed, a replica of Capt. John Smith’s boat that brought the original settlers to nearby Jamestown.  

Godspeed and Exuberant share a dock at Yorktown

 The Godspeed is in port as part of the anniversary celebration of the victory at the Battle of Yorktown.  She is open for visitors and we make haste to check her out.  The crew is in period costumes, and the skipper shares his vast knowledge of 17^th century sailing vessels.  

Godspeed's Captain explains it all as a tall ship sails in the background.

 Next it is time to explore Yorktown proper.  The waterfront is fairly new as hurricanes have laid waste to the original structures.  It’s tastefully done though, with brick buildings and walkways that mimic the original architecture further inland.  We take a several mile walk along the historical Main St. which is reminiscent of Williamsburg, albeit on a smaller scale. 

View of historic Main St. in Yorktown

We then venture on to the plains where the Battle of Yorktown actually occurred.  There isn’t much to see other than grass covered battlements. Yet, the interpretive markers inform us of the significant impact the French navy and militia had on the American victory. All this is commemorated with a majestic memorial to the battle.  

Monument commemorating the Battle of Yorktown

 We just make it back in time for our 5:00 appointment. We enjoy chatting with our new trawler friends, comparing experiences and plans for the future.  As with so many encounters, there’s a good chance we will meet up with them again this winter.  And to top the evening off right, we splurge on a dinner out at the nice waterfront restaurant.  Yorktown has been a very pleasant diversion.

It’s Sunday and we make an early departure for Norfolk.  The weather reflects the recent cold front; we have clear blue skies and a decent breeze, this time from a good direction.  Once we clear the York River, we set sails and enjoy a wonderful reach down to Norfolk. On the way, we see our first dolphins of the cruise.  There is a pod of around ten either putting on a show for our pleasure or in a feeding frenzy – sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference.  They stay with us for about five minutes and at one point three leap from the water in unison; it’s almost as if we are at a show at Sea World.  

Now we are now dancing with the big boys as traversing the Norfolk area in a small boat is an interesting experience. We are dodging freighters and container ships.  One, over 1000 feet long, is pointed right at us in close proximity.  It would be a frightening experience, but we are in water 15 feet deep and from our AIS we learn the ship draws 38 feet.  If it didn’t turn soon, which it did, it would have been in a heap of trouble long before it could ever touch us.   

Huge container ship - note the size of the sailboat off its stern

We continue down the Elizabeth River, past the Norfolk Naval Base and it’s collection of every conceivably sized naval vessels, past several container freight terminals, past some huge drydocks filled with boats under repair, to our anchorage for the night.   

Aircraft carriers at Norfolk Naval Base

We drop anchor across from the renovated waterfront of Norfolk and a docked Carnival cruise ship.  Once again, we and the many other boats in this designated anchorage are dwarfed by our surroundings.  We are at Mile 0 of the Intercoastal Waterway (ICW) and will stay here for a day or two as we try to get a problem with our battery charger rectified.

Our neighbor at the Norfolk anchorage - music went non-stop!

Journey to "Mecca"

For sailors, the annual “journey to Mecca” is a trip to Annapolis for the US Sailboat Show.  It’s the gathering of the “faithful”; it’s just something sailors do if at all possible. As if on cue, the weather suddenly turns gorgeous.  People come out of hiding in their boats, the dinghy beach is full, and the town radiates good cheer.  We meet the couple on the boat anchored next to us.  They stop by and notice that we have a short wave radio. Yes, we do, but we’re having some problems getting it to work successfully.  Several hours later, Tom, a net controller on one of the major cruiser nets, has diagnosed our problems, helped us solve it, and given us some pointers on using SSB.  We are grateful beyond words. We spend some time bicycling through neighborhoods in Annapolis.

Frank Lloyd Wright home in Eastport neighborhood - notice the prow shaped window on the right.

Here residences aren’t just century homes, they are multi-century homes. Annapolis has definitely cornered the market on cute, but the cute is authentic.

Home of one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence

Our little neighborhood near Weems Creek has their annual Octoberfest on Sunday, and we enjoy eating brats to the tunes from a traditional German band.  The streets are full of families strolling amongst the many vendors – West Annapolis has come alive.

On Monday preparations for the boat show take on a frantic pace.  Mooring balls are taken out of commission, docks are cleared of other boats, and barges start appearing with huge wooden pilings and tows of docks.  The next day the harbor is almost unrecognizable with temporary docks and multitudes of vendor tents, and by Wednesday evening all the show boats are tied up in this maze of docks.  With a starting gun at 10 am on Thursday, the show is underway and Annapolis becomes anything but a quiet little waterfront town.

We won’t visit the show every day, but we do come in every late afternoon for what has become a tradition for us, Painkillers on the upper deck of Pusser’s.  

View from Pusser's deck during the Boat Show

 Overlooking the show area, it’s a great place to meet up with friends.  We chat with those we have met while on this trip and friends making the trip by road from Lake Erie. And it’s an opportunity to make plans to meet with groups for dinner.  

Gathering with friends from Sandusky at the Boathouse Restaurant

 The days we do enter the show are packed.  Burt and I each have our lists and go our separate ways.  I am shopping for LED lights, touch up paints for our slightly battered mast, charts and cruising guides, and a WIFI amplifier.  Burt is checking out new sails and information to resolve the battery charging problem we have been experiencing.  In between time, we go to seminars on a variety of topics and take a gander at some of the beautiful new boats on display.  It’s not everyday you get to check out a multi-million dollar sailing yacht. And finally, on one afternoon we volunteer to man the Seven Seas Cruising Association’s booth, meeting many potential cruisers and current members.  It comes as a shock to find these people asking us questions about the cruising lifestyle; we don’t feel like experts on the subject yet, but we have made the jump to full time live-a-board status and that in itself is quite an accomplishment.

The show closes on Monday afternoon and that is also a major production.  As soon as the closing announcement is made, small boats begin dismantling the docks and the sailboats pull out into the open water.  It seems chaotic and we are amazed that there are no collisions, but actually it’s a carefully choreographed dance – docks move apart and boats join the traffic jam in the surrounding harbor.  To add to the confusion, power boats are arriving for the power boat show that follows in a couple of days, and they will enter the docking area once the sailboats have vacated.  We watch for a while from Pusser’s but the crowd is huge, so we leave for our dinghy and a real up close and personal view of the chaos. 

Chaos reigns as the sailboats leave the show compound

The next day we prepare to leave Annapolis.  We do a big shopping spree at the local grocery and run a few other errands before leaving our home for the past two weeks in Weems Creek.  We try to get fuel in Annapolis before heading south, but one fuel dock is having trouble with a pump and the other is chock-a-block with boats from the show waiting for fuel before heading out.  We decide to head ten miles south to Galesville, our home the prior to Annapolis and purchase fuel at the dock there.  We arrive just before closing, take care of the necessities and then anchor just out from the dock we occupied upon arriving in the Chesapeake.  The weather has changed; it’s dark, drizzly, and the leaves are beginning to turn. The writing is on the wall – it’s time to head south.

Hanging on the Hook

We are an honest to goodness, functional sailboat now, although we have done no sailing.  Leaving Galesville and our last option in the near future for a dock with all its amenities, we are on an anchor and basically off the gird. 

We motor two miles to the Rhode River and a protected anchorage off of Camp Letts (a YMCA camp), the site of this year’s Seven Seas Cruisers Association (SSCA) Annapolis Gam.  This is all new to us, and we watch with fascination as over 50 boats eventually join us in the anchorage. In all, over 250 people are in attendance, coming either by boat or car. The first evening we observe dinghies heading off to a small island in the area, and that is our signal that the opening happy hour festivities have begun.  Dinghies are pulled onto the small beach, snacks are set out on the sand, and wine bottles are uncorked – it’s our first opportunity to meet this array of people ranging from first time cruisers like ourselves to multiple circumnavigators. The next day we participate in scheduled activities including four hours of seminars and a sponsored cocktail party, all amid torrential downpours which are typical of the weather we have seen so far.  Saturday features eight hours of seminars and a sit down dinner.  It seems intense at times but it is a wonderful opportunity to hear well known speakers in the boating world like Lynn Pardey and Ralph Naranjo. 

Deck at Camp Letts overlooking anchorage

Gam banquet participants enjoy a program by Lin Pardey

We also have breaks in which we begin sharing boat cards (business-like cards that give contact information) and chatting with other gammers.  We gather much information on what we will experience on our way south from those who have already done the trip, meet others following the same path as us for the first time, and surprisingly, meet two other couples whose plans have been impacted by the Erie Canal closure. One has sadly postponed their cruise until next year while the other arranges to truck their boat from southern Georgian Bay and is in the reassembly process at another yard in Galesville. Sunday dawns gloomy, and after a breakfast roundtable for first time cruisers, we join the crowd pulling anchor and heading off to various destinations.  We are sad to leave this cocoon of new and supportive friendships.

So, it is off to Annapolis, about an hour motor through the debris strewn Chesapeake.  We have heard about all the storm rubble that has been flushed from the Susquehanna into the Bay but are surprised how nerve wracking it makes the navigation – we are dodging large branches and logs along with the always present crab pots.  It is fortunate that we will be at anchor in protected waters again for the next two weeks; perhaps the debris field will have disappeared by the time we begin heading south.

Annapolis is a huge boating center, and we motor into Back Creek and the beginning of Spa Creek, seeking out an anchoring spot. 

A busy Annapolis Harbor

It is packed with boats of all sizes and values, and we decide the wise choice would be to go to an anchorage less congested. So, we head north on the Severn River to an adjoining creek just north of the grounds of the Naval Academy.  Weems Creek has plenty of boats on moorings and anchors but it is not as crowded as the more popular anchorages.  We are surprised to see a number of other boats flying the SSCA burgee, having also made the move from the Rhode. It is quiet here with the placid water surrounded by wooded bluffs and beautiful homes.  

Boats anchored in Weems Creek

We can look out to the Severn to see a very bucolic setting rimmed with huge estates, just minutes north of the hub-bub of Annapolis Harbor. We have a convenient dinghy beach and nearby access to a grocery store and laundromat; we can bike or dinghy into Annapolis proper in about 15 minutes. Best of all, every afternoon the Naval Academy crew team flies by our anchorage down the Weems or out on the Severn for practice sessions. 

Crew team practicing in Weems Creek

So what do you do for two weeks while anchored near Annapolis?  We have plenty to do coordinating and figuring out some of our new systems like the single sideband radio, wind generator, and a fluke in the battery charging system.  We consult with a sailmaker over the possibility of a new set of sails.  We replace a battery that has gone bad.  Carting five gallons of water back to the boat takes an hour. Trips to the grocery or bike repair shop or West Marine all consume a half a day; we seem to be able to resolve our boat issues and personal needs but it just takes much longer. Right after five F-18's flyby over Weems Creek on their way to the Navy stadium, we head into Annapolis and watch a nail bitter Air force vs. Navy football game in a bar with enthusiastic patrons. And, we watch it rain daily, although sometimes interspersed with some sunny periods. 

View out onto the Severn River just prior to a storm

Look carefully for the double rainbow over Weems Creek

The weather is unusually bad for fall in the Chesapeake, and now the highs are down to the 50’s.  The cold, rainy weather keeps everyone boat-bound so there is little socializing with those around us. We plan to stay through the Boat Show but the weather gods are sending a very clear message – get south as fast as you can!