We’ve got the perfect location in Annapolis
– a mooring ball right off the boat show and the Naval Academy.
Life should be great, right? But, not
so. It is raining cats and dogs. It is a good thing we are afloat and not on
land in Annapolis
as there are daily urban flood warnings. Sometimes the pounding rain seems like
we’re besieged by a stream from a fire hose.
And it keeps on for days. The
Sailboat Show opens, and we volunteer to work the Seven Seas Cruising
Association booth for the first morning.
Just getting there takes some creativity as we need to ford flooding
water about a foot deep. The booth gets
very little business as the show goers are spending their time inside the big
tents where water leaks through but at least doesn’t saturate a person. The
traditional sundowner on Pussar’s deck gets a definite thumbs down, and we take
a soggy dinghy ride back to the boat to dry off and warm up. During the following days the rain moderates
but never lets up. There is a low pressure
system overhead that just doesn’t want to move off the coast. Rain totals will be close to 10 inches for
this miserable week. Out of desperation
we head back to the show as visitors, dressing in foul weather gear and flip
flops to visit some of the boats. It is
worth the effort as we have an opportunity to see an 80+ foot Swan, a Chris
White designed catamaran with rotating wing masts (we visit just on the heels
of James Spithill, darn!), several big Hylases and a 70 foot Gunboat
catamaran. We also pick up some bargains
for future boat projects. (Will we ever be done?)
Monday finally dawns rainless, which is a good thing as we
are getting new anchor chain delivered compliments of West Marine standing by
their products and replacing our chain which rusted out way too soon. It should
be an easy task but doing this via dinghy gets a bit more complicated. We load the primary anchor (73 lbs) and 120
feet of rusty chain into the dinghy, take it to a landing, unload it on to the
sidewalk, and wait for the delivery truck.
When it arrives, we move the new chain to the sidewalk, measure it out
into 25 foot increments in order to mark it, and load the old chain into the
truck. Once the new chain is marked, it
is attached to the anchor and fed back into the dinghy. When we return to
Exuberant, the chain is attached to new rope rode which is also marked and then
all is fed back into the chain locker, being careful not to abrade the dinghy
in the process. Burt estimates it will
take about an hour – reality is that it takes a good chunk out of the day.
Monday is the last day of the boat show and the bewitching
hour strikes at 5 pm. The gun sounds and
work boats spring into action. The outer
show boats begin leaving while dock sections are removed to allow inner boats
to initiate their escape. In less than
two hours several hundred sailboats have passed by our boat in a carefully
choreographed parade. We witness the
chaos from the bow of the boat, wine in hand, with the backdrop of a lovely
sunset. It is spectacular and, for many, the highpoint of the boat show.
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| The big Gunboat is the first to cast off the docks just after 5 pm |
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| The 80+ foot Swan cruises right off our bow on its way out of Annapolis |
For the next six days we will be traveling from sunrise to
sunset, trying to get south as fast as possible. And an interesting thing happens that is
indicative of what life as cruisers is like.
Over the past two years we have made many friends within this small
community and now we all coalesce with similar goals of getting south. The first night we make it to the mouth of
the Potomac River where we anchor next to
Margaret and Ken on Rocking B. We met them in Marathon and the Bahamas last
year and enjoyed Ken’s talented keyboard playing at many a gathering. They are
headed to the Caribbean this year with the
Salty Dog Rally, so we bid them farewell.
The next night we anchor near Deltaville,
VA to visit our friends Claire
and Andrew on Eye Candy. They are the
Australian couple we met during the summer of 2012, and they will also be participating
in the Salty Dog and then head across the Pacific to Australia. So this, sadly, will be
our last evening with them.
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| The Eye Candy Crew - from left, Claire, Deb (Andrew's sister who will help crew to the Caribbean) and Andrew - we will miss them! |
The
following day we transit Norfolk
where it is always thrilling to pass by the huge naval ships along the
river.
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| We pass by these two aircraft carriers in our dinghy - we are certainly feeling small. |
We anchor near Brenda and Bob on
Pandora. We met them in the Bahamas last
year. They join us to go to the
Commodore Theater for dinner and a movie.
This art deco theater has been lovingly restored with the regular seats
replaced by tables and comfortable upholstered chairs, and we watch the
excellent first run movie, “Captain Phillips”, an appropriate movie for a
seagoing crew.
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| The Commodore Theater - the mural depicts the industry of the area in the 1930 's - ship building and aeronautics |
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| The alarm is set for 6 am for an early start, but it seems lighter than normal. Look at what has just pulled in across the river from our anchorage! |
The next day we have a difficult morning transiting the
bridges and single lock at the beginning of the ICW. We manage to arrive at one bridge with over
20 boats, large and small, awaiting an opening.
Just upstream of us a tug with a very long tow of pipe has occupied the
lock for over an hour, putting the scheduled openings out of whack. We mill
around with even more boats for 45 minutes awaiting the lock opening. It is
announced that not all of the boats will fit in the lock at once so the
stragglers will have to wait another hour for the next opening. Now the pushing really gets out of hand. We hear much yelling although none of the
boats we can see have hit. It aggravates
us as we were early at the first bridge and were first in line – now we are
somewhere close to the back as we want to maintain some room around us during
this feeding frenzy. As the lock doors open and the boats queue into line, I
announce, in a somewhat loud, obnoxious voice, to a nearby boat that was also
originally at the front of the line, that we have been victims of some very rude
boating behavior. Several of the nearby
boats overhear, and, feeling embarrassed, a few let us in ahead, making us one
of the last boats able to enter the lock.
Nerves are frayed and we tie up on a nearby wall on the other side of
the lock, just behind Marty and Matt on Runaway who we met our first season in Vero Beach. It has taken
us 5 ½ hours to transit 11 miles.
The following two days are spent transiting a remote section
of the ICW through northern North
Carolina. Here cell coverage and internet are mostly
non-existent. The first night we drop
anchor just north of Albemarle Sound where
there is no sign of life on shore. The
next night we stop at an equally remote bay just south of Bellehaven with no
other boats around. These are beautiful,
tranquil locations but places where most people won’t stop.
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| Sunrise off Slade Creek with "smoke on the water". This time of year our mornings can be a bit chilly. |
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| A typical sight along this portion of the ICW |
We re-enter
civilization when we drop into River Dunes Resort for two nights. This is a luxury residential and marina
development, just outside of Oriental, NC that is struggling due to the real
estate bust. They gave us a two nights
for the price of one voucher at the boat show, and we intend to redeem it. When
we pull into our dock we realize that Chris and Craig on Tilt are two slips
down. We met them early in our cruising
adventure and see them in the Bahamas.
River Dunes puts out the red carpet for us.
We bike around the development that goes for miles, admiring the few
beautiful homes that have been built and the lovely landscaping. We luxuriate in steam showers and sit along
the terraced pool and hot tub complex.
The resort puts on a delicious cruisers’ dinner of lasagna in the club
house dining room attended by around 50 visiting boaters. Joining our table are
Bev and David on Cloverleaf. An elderly couple who have transitioned from a
sailboat to a trawler, we met them through SSCA where they are legends within
the cruising community. And that evening
we gather around a fire pit to visit with some of the other cruisers before the
mosquitoes drive us back to the boat. The next day we do boat chores and a
little bicycling. That evening Freedom with Chris and Ed aboard pulls in, and we have them over for Happy
Hour. We first met Freedom the summer of
2010 when we both were cruising the North
Channel of Lake Huron. Now, they, too, have transitioned to the
Atlantic coast.
So, we have traveled about 320 nautical miles since leaving Annapolis. And, on all
but two evenings, we have been in the company of boaters we know and have spent
time with in the past. This is not meant
to be an exercise in name dropping, but, rather, it is an attempt to illustrate
the closeness of the cruising community. The bottom line is that cruisers who
make an effort are never lonely. It is a
small community of people with similar interests and fascinating, diverse backgrounds. These people become our friends, our support,
our community. It is hard to bid a permanent farewell to those who are leaving
us, but we know others will follow to take their places.
