Closing the loop … 25th – 26th June 2018

Closing the loop   …   25^th – 26^th June 2018

We had a pleasant stay at the Coinjock Marina that included a mega dinner in the restaurant.  Someone ate ALL of a 16 oz prime rib with baked potato (after half a starter of peal and eat shrimp).   Someone else ate the blackened trigger-fish with mango and jalapeno salsa.  There might be something a bit sick about eating a fish that you have previously admired while snorkeling. All that eating and yet another thunderstorm led to a pretty disturbed night of sleep.

Six am seemed to arrive way too soon. After a quick cup of coffee we were getting underway.  Having been packed in tight to the stern of the boat ahead and to the bow of the boat behind, the captain used his fancy maneuvering skills to get the boat out into the channel.  We were soon underway.  The morning was cool with north-west breeze.  We saw bald eagles and many egrets in the marshes and cypress swamps of the first twenty miles.  Then the fun began---bridge openings one after another on a fixed time schedule.  We hit the first one a bit early for the 10:30 opening.  The third bridge (or was it the forth?) was timed to the lock transit.  Sadly, having left all the lines on the starboard side in preparation for the lock tie-up, you guessed it we needed a port tie-up.  Mike was jumping around like a flea.  Having made it through the lock we felt a great sense of relief.  Just a couple of open railroad bridges and one lifting bridge to go. 

The route goes through some of the most industrial landscape that I’ve ever seen.  It seemed more so than when we were here six years ago. Possibly then I was so freaked out about the bridges that I never noticed the scenery.  Soon we were into the area of the Naval Ship Yard.  We saw two aircraft carriers and plenty of other war ships.  This time no one came chasing after us to say that we were doing 6kts in a 5kt zone. Turning the corner the Portsmouth hospital and anchorage came into view.

Once the hook was down, we lazed around, ate dinner watched a video and stayed up past boaters midnight.  No thunderstorm woke us, there was a cool breeze....

For Mike, returning to Norfolk is closing the loop on the Caribbean leg of the adventure.  He left from here in early November and now in late June, he’s back. It must be a huge sense of accomplishment for him.  Even though I didn’t go on the outward leg, I feel that we’ve made a big journey—all at less than 10 mph! 

Hospital Point anchorage, Portsmouth, VA : 36 50.66 N, 76 18.02 W

Gloria

We had a lovely quiet evening and a good night’s sleep  – we completely forgot to set the anchor alarm but all was quiet. Today (Tuesday) we got a few boat jobs done in the morning, mostly cleaning, but we also ordered some spare fuel filters and water separators as we have used most of what we set out with. In the afternoon we took the dinghy to shore and had a great time meeting up with Charlotte and Klaus at the Portsmouth Bier Garden. (Charlotte is Gloria’s sister-in-law Fran’s sister and Klaus her husband). It’s really hard to believe we haven’t seen them since we passed through Norfolk in the autumn of 2012. It was wonderful to catch up and three hours passed in a flash. The food and beer were also excellent. Thanks for a lovely evening!

Mike

Charlotte and Klaus at the Portsmouth Bier Garden

Portsmouth river front ... a sail boat (Hinkley), a paddleboat ferry, a construction barge and an aircraft carrier in dock on the Norfolk side of the river.

Trinity Episcopal Church - one of five churches within a quarter mile radius

I loved this mural of spotted speckled trout by Sam Welty

A bright mural advertising The Baron's Pub

Abstract - bow of the Portsmouth Lightship

No Picnic! … Sat 23rd – Sun 24th June 2018

No Picnic!   …   Sat 23^rd – Sun 24^th June 2018

I was looking forward to the inland section up the intra-coastal Waterway (ICW) from Beaufort to Norfolk. I thought it would be relaxing and a good time to reflect on the trip as whole. It’s actually been quite a challenge!

We left Belhaven early on Saturday morning with the intention of anchoring either at the south end of the Alligator river, where we have stayed previously, or some twenty miles further on at the north end at a place called South Lake. We made good time during the morning and decided to make the most of the southerly winds and clear skies and head for South Lake. The only problem we encountered was the Alligator River swing-bridge that is supposed to open on demand but took more than 20 minutes because of  "heavy" road traffic. We were left bobbing in swells generated in a 15-mile open stretch of water with 15-20 knot winds as one car every once in a while would pass over! Anyway, after clearing the bridge we turned east and made our way into the beautiful and secluded South Lake. One of our guide books gives this anchorage top-marks in every category except shopping facilities (Gloria was gutted!). It is lovely. We let out 60 feet of chain in 9 foot depths, tested it carefully and relaxed for an hour before the first storm hit us. I had just told Gloria that I thought the nasty looking weather to the north would miss us. Wrong again bird-brain! We noticed a strange motion to approaching clouds and almost immediately the wind started. For the second time on this section we were smack in the middle of a tremendous storm with thunder and lightening. The instruments showed that winds peaked at 42 knots as the rain lashed down and visibility deteriorated to near zero. Happily, this time we did not drag and within the hour the sun was back out and we feasted on a family favorite of shrimp and grits.

Around 8.30 pm I looked out and saw how dramatic the sky looked and came up-top to take some more photos. I told Gloria that I wasn’t overly confident that this storm would miss us and sadly my concerns were well founded. Once again, we were hit with another powerful storm cell. This time only 37 knots of wind, but the thunder and lightening seemed worse, perhaps because it was by now dark. By 11pm all the storms had passed and the rest of the night was peaceful. All in all a bit stressful, but a great photo opportunity (see below).

We were up and underway by 8 am on Sunday. We have never had such a hard time getting the anchor up. To say it was well bedded in the mud is an understatement, which is actually reassuring, although my white shirt may never recover from the mud cakes! We headed north out of the Alligator river into Abermarle Sound and had a bumpy 12 mile passage over to the North River, down-wind motor sailing with the genoa in 10-15 knots of breeze. We were less than two miles from the entry channel of the North River when the engine died … again. No problem in the open water out in the sound, but a real issue in the winding narrow channel ahead. I changed the water separator and switched fuel tanks and it re-started, but then died again. I then replaced the fuel filter on the engine and blew out the fuel lines and managed to get it going again - thank goodness. A few miles further on we met a huge barge that squeezed us out of the channel into 7 feet of water, and we were only 10 feet from his side. We were relived to arrive at Coinjock marina around 1 pm and have had a busy afternoon doing various boat jobs and cleaning, including another attempt to suck grunge out of the bottom of the main fuel tank. We got some out, but it didn’t look too bad. I’m not sure what is causing the fuel supply to be so problematic.

Tonight we are off out to eat at the marina restaurant which is famous for its prime rib. Tomorrow we brave four bridges and one lock in the final 50 miles up to Norfolk.

South Lake, NC: 35 54.84 N, 75 54.36 W

Coinjock Marina, NC 75 57.1 N, 36 20.8 W

Dragonfly - taking a ride on Cotinga

Dragonfly - taking a ride on Cotinga

Dragonfly - taking a ride on Cotinga

A nasty "green head" - these buggers bite!

Storm 1 approaches - the clouds were really swirling underneath

The wind and torrential rain start

As the winds peaked at 42 knots it became hard to make out the shore

The peak winds only lasted a short while, but they would rate "force 9 /severe gale" on the Beaufort scale. I can't imagine being out at sea in sustain winds of that strength.

Storm 2 arrived at sunset and created some amazing light

The long exposure shots capture the atmosphere to some extent, but not the power of the lightening

There were no houses, lights or boats in any direction - splendid isolation. 

For a while it was fun to take photos - but then the wind and rain hit and we just cowered below as thunder crashed all around. I wondered if we would have to take to our dinghy if Cotinga was hit by lightening or whether we would deploy the life raft, or just be dead!

A Night to forget … 21-22nd June 2018

A Night to forget …  21-22^nd June 2018

It’s 10pm on the “Longest Day”. Gloria wrote her blog entry and we’ve just finished watching the first episode of season 3 of “Broadchurch” on my laptop. It’s pitch dark outside and we are anchored in a quiet creek, but the lightening flashes of a storm some distance away punctuate the darkness. Rather than go to bed, which is what I want to do because I’m tired after a long hot day, I force myself to grab my tripod and try and get some boat shots in the lightening. At first it’s pretty mellow – push the cable release, time about 3 minutes and check the results. Then it starts to rain and I try to keep the camera and lens dry with an umbrella, but it’s getting hard to hold the umbrella steady. So I retreat under the shelter of the dodger and take some shots looking backwards. By this time it’s starting to get really gnarly and when I get my camera and tripod back inside the boat I dump them unceremoniously in the galley and turn to check our small GPS anchor alarm. It’s difficult to tell whether we have just swung round when the wind overpowered the current or whether we are really dragging. I decide we need to switch on the main instruments and as these fire up all hell breaks loose. I swear that I saw 40 knots on the wind meter but studying the plot of wind-speed over time later only shows just under 30 knots – it’s entirely possible I was totally freaking out! The boat is rocking violently and I become convinced that the anchor is dragging. We have 40 feet of chain in the water with depths of a little more than 8 feet. I grab my jacket and head up to the bow and let out some more chain. The rain is torrential, the wind is howling and lightening flashes every few seconds. The extra chain does the trick and the boat is secure, except that with the anchor dragging, the extra chain and the wind blowing us towards shore we are now in only 7 feet of water, not enough depth for comfort. After some agonizing we decide to move to deeper water and re-anchor. Gloria jumps out of bed and puts on her jacket as I fire up the engine. I know it starts because I can see the rev counter, but I can’t hear it because of the screaming gale and thunder. Gloria bravely works the foredeck, raising the anchor, and we motor back-out to deeper water (still only 8.5 feet). Thank God for chart plotters and track records to show us where to go. We drop 60 feet of chain, put the “snubber” on and check to see that we are holding firm. Crisis over, we go back inside. There’s half an inch of water on the floor of the aft head, the result of our soaking clothes as well as accidentally leaving the window open. By this time the wind has dropped but the thunder and lightening are as fierce as ever. I spend the following two hours at he nav-station monitoring the situation and tracking the storms on Sirius Weather downloads to our chart plotter. This storm system is absolutely massive. The depth sounder gives me some nervous moments as the apparent depth drops from 8,5 feet to 4.2 feet in 30 seconds, but we aren’t aground. I presume it’s the anchor chain under the depth sounder as the current pushes the boat in strange directions. At about 1.30 a.m. I retire to bed, exhausted. At 3 am we are both awake again with a whole new set of storm cells, not as fierce as earlier in the night, but certainly requiring some attention. Next morning we get up about 7am feeling somewhat relieved, but totally shattered. This was one of the worst storms I have ever experienced.

After a quick breakfast (bread and jam, coffee) we pulled up the very muddy anchor and headed out of Broad Creek on our way to Belhaven. The morning was cloudy, so not as blisteringly hot as yesterday, and we made good progress motor sailing with the genoa. The journey was about 40 miles (statute) with sections of open water through the Neuse, Pamlico and Pungo rivers and about 10 miles in the pretty Goose Creek / canal, and we arrived in Belhaven in the early afternoon. We are desperate for a peaceful nights sleep so we chose to anchor at the more sheltered west end of Pantego Creek.

In 2012 we visited the town of Belhaven and were underwhelmed with what it had to offer - one café / restaurant that was only open two nights a week and a former garage that sold Mexican food (excellent as it turned out). So having re-launched the “Dumb Dog” we motored ashore with limited expectations. I have to say that Belhaven bears no resemblance to the place we visited six years ago. There is an excellent tavern (where we ate), a fancy restaurant, a fish café/restaurant, bakery and a place to buy ice cream. We even found a hairdressers and Gloria was able to get her hair cut! We were very pleased to have made the effort to go ashore – well worth visiting.

It’s now 8 pm and we are back aboard Cotinga. A thunderstorm passed close by a couple of hours ago, but we are optimistic it will be a quiet night. We have complied with Mike’s new rule: “Never less than 50 feet of chain regardless of the depth.”

Mike

Panego Creek, Belhaven, NC : 35 32.35 N, 76 37.88 W

Cotinga in Broad Creek, NC at ~10.30 pm lit entirely by lightening from nearby storms. At this point it was still calm in the anchorage

Things start to get a little wilder in Broad Creek anchorage as Cotinga swings in the wind and current.

Similar to the previous shot, but now you start to see the streaks of waves and the shore is barely visible

The morning clouds have gone and it's hot again as we head north up the lovely Goose Creek

We were impressed by this guy sailing in the Pamlico River with less than 10 kts of breeze. We had our genoa out but it wasn't doing much as we headed past under power.

The longest day 21st June 2018

The longest day    21^st June 2018

We stayed in the cockpit for quite a while after dinner watching the thunderstorms and enjoying the long evening.  If there was an element of avoiding the heat below decks, so be it.

Today we made a late start, hoping to avoid the strongest part of the adverse current.  We departed Taylor Creek outside Beaufort at 10:30.  The timing may have helped with the current but it had us travelling during the hottest part of the day.  Making our way along the Russell slough, we could plainly see how shallow the water was in some areas.  We watched, astonished, as a chap in  a power boat zipped along at high speed toward one of these shoals and ran right up onto the mud bank.  He jumped off the bow onto the mud and tried to  push the boat backward without success.  Luckily for him there is a large tidal range around Beaufort so his vessel will float again in the fullness of time.  As Mike put it, “let’s hope we can avoid a similar fate”.

After several hours of hot motoring, we emerged into the Neuse River and after a while turned onto a down wind course (my wacky keyboard gave me “curse” which seemed pretty suitable).  The six knots of breeze suddenly became zero—believe me, we did curse! Eventually, we anchored in Broad Creek not far from the entrance to River Dunes marina, where we waited out Hurricane Sandy in October 2012.  That was where we met our friends Lynn and Lee (along with many others).  If we had any decent cell phone service, we would have called them....

Gloria

Broad Creek, NC : 35 05.35 N, 76 36.5 W

Clouds above the anchorage in Broad Creek

The last daylight in Broad Creek with just one other boat anchored nearby ... then the weather turned nasty ! read the next blog "A night to forget"