More and more often the time seems to be getting away from me. We motor down the ICW holding our breath as we skim over shallow spots, anchor in unknown rivers and (I at least) still duck at the 65 ft bridges. But things are more settled. It isn’t that each town isn’t a new experience, it is. Where to get ashore, is sometimes a dilemma, how to get to civilization once on shore can be equally challenging! But for the most part walking a mile or two for groceries or using the courtesy car if we are at a marina that has one, or in extreme cases catching a cab have become a part of our weekly routine for provisioning. I’m more careful not to forget things when I shop and check my list more thoroughly than I did when I could just swing by the grocery store on the way home from work.

Nearly every meal is cooked and eaten on board and we’ve had great luck with the stove (a new three burner force 10) the food is good and the camaraderie with the family even better. Most recently we have come into Jekyll Harbor Marina on Jekyll Island Georgia where there are a number of other cruising sailboats all on differing schedules but mostly headed, as we are for the Bahamas. It’s been nice to meet other cruisers, particularly those with kids.

Last night in honor of the coming of the New Year we had a potluck up by the restaurant and there were at least 20 adults and about 10 kids. The kids played a combination of tag and hide and seek in the gathering darkness (after we all descended on the food) and from ages 7 to 18 all seemed contented in enjoying each others company. It was an enjoyable night and worth mention as we haven’t had this opportunity to interact with so many cruisers at the same time before. It seems that this is more the “norm” than not when cruisers collect in a marina or anchorage.

Food and drink is shared as well as information. What are the best anchorages, where is the safest passage from, who does the best weather routing? Boat repairs and systems are another big topic as the night continues. What’s been broken, how did it break, how was it repaired. Questions and answers about who did the repair and at what time and expense are high on the list of informal discussion topics. It seems as though even though no one sets an agenda there is an overall theme. It’s comfortable and easy to join in. We have lists of things we’ve fixed and are eager to get the info on anchorages and weather routing.

Overall Cruising seems to be taking over as our way of life. Less and less do I carry the cell phone and when it rings I’m surprised and a little annoyed. Who could that be? Oh there are the odd family members (no offense if you are one of the family members) that call and from time to time someone calls about the apartments but compared to the 50 or so incoming calls I used to get daily the call that comes in now, perhaps one or two times a week is a big change, but one I am adjusting to.

I know that everyone reading this has probably watched a classic Discovery Channel Shark Week Special which features shark feeding frenzies from multiple angles. There is a similar type of frenzy that occurs on our boat whenever the generator begins to chug or the shore power cables come out. The noise of the generator on board Passages creates similar effects to the frantic thrashing of injured or dying fish and results in the same kind of response by our local “sharks”. As soon as the generator hums to life or when we hook up to shore power the kids run to the designated charging outlets. Ipods, and cameras, laptops and printers, cell phones and even the plug in style battery charges are hauled out and all vie for a position in the charging frenzy.

As in a real feeding frenzy everyone wants to assert his or her strength and jockey for the top position. Everyone wants to get their fair share of power before the “juice goes away”.

As usual Christmas Eve saw me up late wrapping last minute presents previously tucked in this or that nook or cranny. Only difference: this year I think I actually found all of the presents I had stashed away (probably a first in at least 5 years ode to fewer really good hiding spots on a boat). The Christmas tree had been decorated, the stockings hung, and there was the traditional reading of “The Night Before Christmas” by Boyd. All was as it should be.

There was of course one other noteworthy exception to the norm. Everything around and under and beside the Christmas tree was moving. The stockings were jogging side to side rather than hanging reposefully in a row as they usually would be. The Christmas tree itself although anchored at the bottom (under the “tree skirt”) with zip-lock baggies full of sand swayed rhythmically.

You see even though our plan to dock in Beaufort SC had actually been realized. Even though we had managed to repair the rudder and make the distance from Charleston to Beaufort in time to come in on Christmas Eve Day a snotty low pressure system had followed us in. We got docked just fine but shortly thereafter it really started to rain. By the time we finished dinner and drove to Wal-Mart the wind had picked up significantly. By the time we’d shopped and drove back (1.5 hours later) there was some definite wave action going on.

Nicole worried about Santa, would he come? Would he be able to get down the wood stove chimney? Would the reindeer be able to keep their footing on the coach roof? No worries about all of that, Santa and the reindeer managed fine but Boyd and I spent the majority of Christmas Eve night and Christmas Morning dashing out into the torrents of rain and buffeting wind to lash another something down or reposition the fenders.

The storm came out of the Southeast. The only direction, I was later informed by a person who should know, that this particular marina wasn’t protected from. The marina, on the west side of the north/south channel, was open to the Southeast and there was a significant fetch coming across the long open channel. It tossed us all night and into the morning. Of course since Santa came presents had to be opened and admired but I decided to fix a much amended Christmas morning breakfast of simple muffins rather than the more elaborate bacon, potatoes and eggs I had planned.

As Christmas morning wore on I wondered if the Christmas dinner that we had planned with the other transient boater was going to be able to happen or not. We had intentionally picked this marina know that our friends on Wind Dust were already here. They had told us about a couple on a sailboat called Breakin’ Wind that they’d been traveling with and we had all eagerly planned a potluck style Christmas dinner in the salon of Passages. I’d been thrilled when arranging the whole thing. To think that we’d have friends over for Christmas Day, but as the weather seemed to get worse instead of better I started to wonder.

Finally about 1:30 in the afternoon a full 12 hours of being beaten against the dock repeatedly began to wane. Within the hour it subsided still more and by the magic hour of 3pm it had stopped raining and it was calm enough to have guests. I couldn’t have been more thrilled. Jesse and Ginny came from Wind Dust and Donna and Rob came from Breakin’ Wind and that made 8 with the four of us. It was a fabulous time of chatting and eating and eating and chatting AND not rocking about wildly. Thanks guys, for making our Christmas so wonderful and memorable!!! Merry Christmas to all!!

15 miles off shore, under a beautiful blue sky and with all the sails up and no engine we had rudder failure. We had decided to jump again, even though Morehead to Georgetown was quite the wild ride. Everyone agreed that the only way to get to Jekyll Island Ga by Christmas was to jump outside from Georgetown to Hilton Head in one fell swoop. Then we could casually work our way down the inside of Jekyll Island at our leisure and be close to where we know other boat kids would be for Christmas.

Things were going well too. We contemplated the weather and waited and extra day when it seemed that the storm that most of the East Coast got as snow buffeted us with wind and rain. We sat through the flooding knowing that it would create debris in the ICW portions of the channel on the way out to the open ocean markers and then, just when the time was right, we left Georgetown. Honestly it was a cute town with a nice marina and the whole family had a bit of a thrill when, while walking down the main street of town we saw that Boyd’s company had an office right there. That said we were all ready to get underway again and so when the moment came we grabbed it, dropped the dock lines and were off.

The channel took forever and after the experience coming in I was not looking forward to that narrow washing machine type motion we’d had coming in. But the tide was outgoing and so the current and wind were together. There wasn’t much action and when we finally rounded the last portion of the breakwater I was happy to see that the offshore wind was doing a particularly good job of keeping the waves in check. Wave heights had been predicted to be in the 3 to 5 ft range (to which Nicole commented “Well that’s not much different than 2 to 4 made me have to smile) and they were considerably less. We motored for a while until Boyd decided that it was time to put out some sailcloth. He started with the jib (which until this very trip had remained tightly furled since we had but one turning block installed when we left Maine) and he and Paul got a bit sail happy.

We had been making a respectable 7 plus knots with the engine and before we lost the tide from Georgetown we’d had nearly 9 knots. I was pleased to see the sails going up but bit concerned about what it would do to our overall speed. In our previous trip the unexpected early arrival of the storm had impacted us and I knew that with the weather window we had we really wanted to make a minimum of 6 knots all the way to Hilton Head. But boys will be boys and Boyd and Paul seemed oblivious to need for speed as the unsheathed and released one after another of the sails until finally we were flying all four. It’s a lot of canvas! Frankly, I could hardly believe it as we watched the GPS chart plotter with all the sails up and the engine in neutral we were doing 8 plus. Of course we were healing like crazy.

It’s hard to explain the sensation.. after more than a year of planning, another year plus of working on a boat you’ve only seen in the water in photos to finally get her in the water, with all those sails up. Even I have to admit it was somewhat exhilarating. The culmination of many years of thoughts, blood, sweat (lots of money), and tears and finally out on the real ocean with the blue sky above and the open ocean in front we were actually sailing. Wow. That brings us to the point with the loud bang and the rudder failure. Oh, did I forget to mention the loud bang? How inconsiderate of me, well yes we were healed over having a great run of it supposed, in fact to be on that same track for the next 16 hours when, there was a loud bang and we suddenly began to fall off the wind and loose speed. Since Boyd was below and the engine was secured we called to him and all began to pitch in in our own way to help solve the problem.

Paul began to steer by manipulating the staysail, this sail has lines that lead aft to the wheel and he was able to adjust the sail to keep us from gaining too much speed (and without the rudder to adjust our course) unintentionally jibbing as four sails on the wrong side of the boat with that kind of wind would be unpleasant not to mention dangerous. Boyd dove down below first checking the hydraulic fluid level and then the mechanical components to the steering. I moved the wheel meaninglessly and did whatever they told me to do and Nicole cleared the cockpit to make it easier to maneuver.

In the end Boyd was able to quickly identify the problem and with a few tools we had on board he was able to restore steering. Then the guys doused the sails and we “limped” into Charleston to work on finding 30 year old parts for a rudder no longer made from a company long out of business 4 days before Christmas. Just another adventure.

Well we got our butts kicked! We left Beaufort NC after nearly two weeks of being tied to the dock. The first week was anticipated (not necessarily looked forward to by anyone) we had always planned to go back to Maine once we got the boat someplace warm enough to sit for a while. So finally we did, but when one week turned into two, admittedly, we became a bit frustrated.

We were all happy to be back together and enjoyed the first day back as a break from so much driving, the next two days weather came in. By Thursday we had heard looked at the next part of the ICW and decided it was just ugly, add to that that one of our friends boat, someone with local knowledge, had run aground and we were sure, we’d rather go outside. So we did.

And we got out butts kicked. It started out rainbows and light with pods of dolphins running with us sometimes for hours at a time. We had planned to go from Beaufort to Southport NC, but we were itching to “make up time” all the boats we knew had passed us and were making tracks for Bahamas. We did the math and somehow it seemed to make more sense to go from Beaufort to Georgetown.

By the time you add the distance into and out from the coastal towns we would be saving another 30ish miles so it seemed logical at the time. Unfortunately Mother Nature had other ideas. We probably would have been fine going into Southport if we’d have gone in like we’d originally planned. The storm that was coming, the one that blanked the whole Eastern seaboard and brought feet of snow in some places was just working itself up into a real tantrum. When we started out it wasn’t supposed to be that bad, and it wasn’t supposed to even arrive until late on the second day.

Unfortunately it was worse then predicted earlier than predicted and it turned out that it got us, and our bananas too. We left Beaufort a little later than we’d planned. We were waiting on the tide but since it wasn’t right until around 10:30 we rather lulled ourselves into the idea that we didn’t have to rush. In the end we left the dock around 1:00. Then the swing bridge didn’t open on demand only on the half hour, funny how we’d been at the dock for almost two weeks and didn’t notice that the siren only went off on the half hours. We did complain vigorously to each other more than once about how efficient the bridge tender was with his warnings. When we did go through he complimented us on our boat (since I figure he sees all kinds I’ll take that as a big compliment) and we decided while he’s heavy on the horn he has great taste in boat.

Between the late departure and the bridge and the long run to the ocean we were behind some when we started. The weather was decent all the rest of that day but by Paul’s watch, 12 to 4 AM it was so rough that Boyd was the only one left standing. The next day was pretty much a wash. I don’t know how Boyd did it. He took some of my watch, the 4am to 8 and basically the rest of the day. The wind was sustained 25-30 knots with gusts to 35 and the seas, which were from behind for the most part, were even with the top of the davits more often than not. Boyd said the waves were 8 to 12 and I could hear them breaking as they reached us. I knew it was bad when Boyd wouldn’t let me go out on deck to retrieve one of the fittings that shook loose.

Just to round out the experience it started to rain sometime during the night and by morning it had taken it up more as a passion than a hobby. Thank goodness Boyd doesn’t get seasick! With the wind and the rain and the waves there was no place to keep warm or even dry, not even under the dodger.

The one bright spot happened around 9am when a large pod of dolphin joined us and decided that the waves were absolutely perfect for practicing their Sea World super show impressions. They joined us and took turns leaping from out of the tops of the waves, sometime directly towards the boat getting the max amount of air-time possible. After that all I remember is being cold, wet and seasick for the rest of the day.

Finally around 3pm we came into the “breakwater” for Georgetown. Nearly all the breakwater there is submerged so for me at least it was a big disappointment. I was counting the minutes to relief from the swells only to find that “inside” the breakwater the waves were more confused than outside. So while they were somewhat lesser in actual size the combination of the direction we were now forced to go to stay off the breakwaters and the reflection of the waves bouncing around didn’t make it much more comfortable.

We finally reached an area where the tide, wind and rain were the only elements we were fighting and the kids and I started to feel more alive. We decided in that moment to find a marina. I called several and we settled on one with a seemingly better price and the coveted free WiFi.

We came in in the pouring rain. When Paul stepped out of the dodgers to rig for the dock we were instantly soaked to the skin. Even our rain jackets didn’t help. I had pushed on a ball cap and was amazed to see that the brim was dripping pink droplets; it was the best we’d felt all day.

Once secured and hooked to shore power we all wearily went below only to find that our previously neat cabins looked like someone had put the contents in a blender. Cushions, books, clothes, food, tools and the like were intermixed with everything else we own. Add a little salt water and stir thoroughly, oh, and the bananas were bruised!

What’s the big deal with the bananas you might wonder? Well what I noticed when I came below was that even though the bananas were still hanging from the net in the galley and they didn’t end up on the floor they had hit the side of the boat so hard (most likely in the rolling inside the breakwater if not before) that there is a permanent dent across the entire bunch. So… not only did we get our butts kicked but we’ve bruised our bananas (and perhaps our pride) as well.

So, tell me, if you know, how the silverware that sat so benignly at the sides of the plates for dinner can become the weapons of choice in a silverware war once it’s time to do dishes. It seemed simple enough, after dinner tonight I said to the kids, “I’ll wash if you dry”. I’ll admit that under my breath I might have muttered, “You know I’ll probably wash even if you don’t dry” but they came relatively easily to the galley to dry. Paul, being the responsible, reliable first born stood waiting towel in hand for the onslaught of wet dishes sure to follow.

Before going out today I made a batch of delicious Gluten Free Banana/Chocolate Chip Muffins and last night after dinner I cooked some French bread style buns for sandwiches for our upcoming trip. So in addition to the usual dinner dishes and the desert bowls there were also some large bowls, pans and muffin tins as well. Not daunted we dove in. Even in the largest boats there is limited space and our galley, while expansive by some standards has only a couple of square feet of counter space. Washing and drying and putting away have to happen nearly simultaneously or one runs out of space just part of the way through.

This is what lead to Paul, Nicole and I being in the galley (total footprint less than 12 square ft) at the same time, it does happen, more than you’d think. I was washing, Paul was dutifully drying and Nicole, well Nicole was giggling hysterically as the game of Silverware Drawer Wars unfolded. It goes like this.

I wash and hand Paul three glasses, two plates and a handful of silverware to dry. He proceeds to dry it and hands Nicole one spoon, waiting patiently until she has opened the silverware drawer then he hands her a dried cup. In order to put the cup away Nicole has to close the silverware drawer and move over to the where the cups are stored. She snorts, but puts away the spoon and closes the drawer, seeing that he has 2 more cups and anticipating run on dry cups she opens the cupboard puts away the one cup and turns expectantly… Paul hands her two dry forks and a dry butter knife.

The snort is more audible this time, longer in length too, more of an expelling of the entire breath. “Paaauul she say”, already a bit exasperated. Paul, continues to hold out the forks and knife expectantly, he knows her well. She closes the cupboard opens the silverware drawer and reaches for the forks and knife. The bait taken Paul pounces.

Without missing a beat Paul hands Nicole a plate and another dry glass. Now she has a real dilemma. There’s no place to put the plate and the glass on “her side” of the galley. If she lays them on the open silverware drawer she’ll have a free hand to open the cupboard but she can’t reach the upper or lower cabinets without first closing the silverware drawer. She can close the drawer with the plate and the glass in each hand but she then she can’t open the cabinets to put them away.

And so.. the game continues, Paul increasingly challenging Nicole by withholding just the item that would obviously be the next choice to put away. Handing her the most difficult measuring cup or muffin tin and clobbing up the efficiency in the most obnoxious way, sending us all into fits of laughter. Welcome to the silverware drawer wars.

Arriving back in Morehead City from Maine there were just a few things we all wanted, well one of them didn’t quite make it into the header so you’ll have to forgive me while I digress to confess. One thing that I wanted, nay needed when I got back from our sojourn to Maine was a good, long, hot shower.

Sure I’d showered in Maine but two days later after driving 8 hours the first day and at least that the second day (Paul pitched in on the second day and that was a beautiful thing!) I was ready for a real shower and some sleep. Arriving in Beaufort (Morehead is technically the other side of the bridge) we unloaded what was left of the must haves from our 2600 square foot house into our 300 square foot boat and proceeded to try to find places to stow it all.

That failed I decided that drowning myself in a hot soapy shower would be a second best and would serve to make me feel better. By this time it was after 8pm and the kids and I had been going since around 6 am, I was getting a bit punchy. So I grabbed together my towel and other incidentals bade farewell to the family and took myself up the dock to the showers. Once there I found that the doors, previously always unlocked, weren’t. Back down to the boat find the key, obviously buried under all of the additional must haves just dumped in the salon and back up to the showers.

Do you think that dratted key worked? Oh it worked in the men’s shower room door lock, which I eventually tried in sheer desperation. It didn’t however; ever work in the women’s room door lock. Eventually I walked back down to the boat to ask Boyd to try to unlock to women’s bathroom door for me. He was also unsuccessful and eventually after more than 20 minutes of trying with no luck Boyd volunteered to stand outside the men’s shower while I dashed inside took a less than fulfilling shower that left me feeling anything but better. Finally I was able to go on to the sleep portion of the program, thank goodness they don’t have a video camera rolling above that door, in the frustration of the moment I don’t think I behaved very well when three trips to the shower door failed to result in the door opening.

The next morning, Monday, we took care of the Wild Ponies and Seashells. Ted, my brother in law, who had been visiting Boyd while the kids and I were in Maine had scoped out the area and had recommended a nearby island which boasted wild ponies and had a nice beach for seashell hunting. Thanks to Ted we had a lovely day kicking around tracking fuzzy ponies, sea otters and shells, the last of which were more my speed as they didn’t run away.

Thanks also to Ted for the road trip to bring down the car and all the work he did with Boyd while he was down here. It’s good to have talented family! Thanks to April and Leif for loaning him to us for such an extended stay (even though I didn’t see it I’m sure he came with a bow on his head).

We also explored an adorable Maritime Museum and all the little shops by the coast. Yesterday we stayed again because we were still tired and there was a low moving in. I borrowed the “complimentary car” and the kids and I did holiday shopping and reprovisioned the boat for the next leg of the journey. Today we fueled up, found homes for the last of the load from Maine (thank goodness for that) did laundry and ordered a few parts that we’ll pick up tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll leave for Southport. We plan to go outside as friends have told of us shoaling in the next section of the ICW and now that we’ve been here (well not all of us) for nearly two weeks we’ve fallen behind the other cruisers again. Time to go!

Since it’s probably highly inappropriate of me to post photos of the shower, even though I have been known to post pictures of other bathroom fixtures in the past I’ll leave you with ponies instead.

Well for the last week the kids and I have been doing a different kind of “Cruisin”. We left Maine rather suddenly in November, convinced that if we stayed even another day we would regret it and rightfully so. I personally was sure that if we didn’t leave immediately we would be too late and get “frozen” in place. In the end we left Maine in a bit of a rush knowing that when we got to someplace warmer we could park the boat and come back to wrap things up. This, finally was the week.

At the end of last week we arrived in Beaufort NC from the Oriental after a pretty easy transit. One of the kids on our new friends boat Gromit told Nicole that we would start to see dolphins at mile 200 in the ICW. Sure enough, if you can believe it, just as we passed the 200th mile on the ICW we realized we had an official escort of a small pod of dolphins off the starboard bow. Nicole and Paul were ecstatic and I have to admit that it was cool. As we pulled in to the dock Nicole asked me “Mom, are those real palm trees?”. There was a feeling of satisfaction that we had actually finally made it to that “someplace warmer” we were looking for.

And so, having arrived at “someplace warm” we decided to trek back to Maine. On Saturday morning very early the kids and I loaded up the car and headed back to Maine. We left around 7:30 am and arrived in Philedelphia around 7:30 pm. That was truly a long day of crusin’. We stayed with one of my many cousins and his family and despite being exhausted we enjoyed the visit immensely.

The next day we headed on to Maine leaving around 9:00 am. I was incredibly nervous about driving through New York City. The trip the day before had involved a number of missed turns some due to our inexperience but even more due to the terrible visibility due to snow we had from Virginia to Pennsylvania. It seemed that every sign we needed to read for 300 miles was blanketed in snow. I kept asking Paul, “Does that say 295, or I95?” It was quite reassuring to start out Sunday morning in clear weather and in the day rather than in the dark.

We made it through New York much easier than I anticipated as Paul did a great job navigating and once we got to Connecticut it was a relief to start to recognize landmarks. Paul drove home into Maine and the kids and I actually cheered when we crossed the bridge between Maine and NH.

Funny as happy as we all were to be back yet it seems odd to be away from the boat, which seems more like home than home now. I know that Paul is incredibly happy to see Claire. Nicole got to visit her school for lunch and lunch recess and see all of her friends. The very best of luck happened when we got a school snow day on Wednesday. Our district is rather stingy in handing out snow days so it was a great opportunity for the kids to spend the whole day with friends. We dug up some snow pants and extra boots with the help of the neighbors and the kids sledded and rolled around in the snow until they were wet and tired then came inside to wait for their mittens and hat to dry so they could go back out and do it again.

In the end we got everything accomplished that had to be done and we managed to wrap things up and pack into the car for the return trip south. We will miss the neighbors and the dog and Paul started missing Claire two days before we left but we are eager to get back to the boat and continue our adventure. Now that we have some idea of what’s ahead it’s easier to look forward to it.

In the ICW all the Bridges are 65’… Except the Ones that Aren’t!

Otherwise Known As Bridge Limbo

So all the bridges in the ICW are a minimum of 65′, except when the water is high as in a during a coastal flood or high tide or wind tide or when the Army Corp of Engineers doesn’t build the bridge to specs.

Now I’ve already told you I’ve been ducking at each and every bridge, I thought actually, I was getting better when I didn’t even flinch at the last Bascule bridge (okay, okay a Bascule bridge lifts in the middle so you can’t hit it – maybe that’s not particularly brave of me). Then I heard that there was a problem with some of the bridges in the ICW, not all of them actually have 65′ clearance.

Well that wasn’t what I needed to hear to make me feel more comfortable about clearing those annoying bridges. See our boat, near as we can tell, has an air draft of about 63 ft. That means that from the water to the top of our main mast we stand 63 ft. Then on top of the mast we have an antenna. Well if the bridge is really 65 ft high we should be fine with 18″ clearance. However some of the bridges are only 64 ft which reduces our actual clearance to less than a foot when you factor in the antenna.

Throw in a little coastal flooding, nominal tide or wind tide (don’t even get me started about this as there seems to be no predicting and no reporting of exactly what, where or when the wind tide might be) then suddenly that your remaining 6″ seems like an unreasonably small margin. Is it any wonder then that I cringe when we go under bridges?

I have to admit that these were not things that I considered when contemplating sailing away for a year. Now, well I think about it daily, sometimes several times a day depending how many bridges we have to go under on a given day.

The good news is that notwithstanding my personal inclination to duck we have slid under every bridge so far, even the 64′ bridge. Looking up at the underside of that bridge the kids pointed to the marks of other boats’ masts on the underside of the bridge. Probably that wasn’t the best thing for my confidence either. At least we didn’t hit.

We meant to leave early we started to leave early, we tried to leave early, we didn’t manage to get out of the marina early but what with the late night of laundry I didn’t wake up early. In the morning, before we could leave we had to settle up with the marina and we had to take on fuel and fill the water tanks and before you know it was 9:30 in the morning and we still hadn’t left the docks.

Over the past several weeks we had prided ourselves in getting into a routine and in knowing our limits. We were trying to leave early so that we could get to Coinjock, NC the first night. As we did the calculations it appeared that we’d be going about 50 miles to Coinjock and hard as we tried there didn’t seem to be anyplace closer to stop. It was 50 statute miles rather than 50 nautical miles and the conversion was in our favor.

This was new though, it was hard to judge, there were bridges (lots of them actually) and unlike NY some of them had to be asked to lift or swing, some of them had their own schedules, on the hour, on the half hour and there was a lock! But you have to start sometime and for us that was around 9:30 in the morning the Saturday after Thanksgiving.

I asked for any advice from the dock master at the marina we were at and he gave me a cheat sheet. The first two bridges, it seemed were easy. As we rode out of the marina I read to Boyd, N & P Beltline RR Bridge usually open. Okay, so that one only took us an hour and a half. When we came to it the bridge was most definitely not open. In fact not only was it down, but it had a train parked on it.

By the time the bridge opened there were 3 mono-hull sailboats and a cat behind us. If that didn’t make the area we were in crowded enough just before we got to go under the bridge three large tugs joined us. You’ll see the photos, every time we turned a bend in the ICW I’d look back and go quack, quack, quack… I felt like we were the leader of a band of ducks.

It was a bit of a nerve-wracking day as I ducked at each bridge. The rest of the boats seemed to be completely satisfied to let us take the first try at each of the next several bridges. Eventually as it became dark the boats behind us started to drop off. Finally we were the only boat still going. It became much more difficult to find our way after dark as many of the markers and about half of the lights were missing. We pulled into the booming town of Coinjock around 6pm. Our friends from Wind Dust were already there and we pulled into the dock by just pulling along the side of the canal. For a mere $1.75 per foot per night we were able to sidle over to the side of the canal for the night. Relived to be tied up for the night we had dinner, visited with our new friends and turned in for the night.