The Enchanting Waccamaw

Puffin slipped down the Waccamaw this afternoon on her way south, enjoying the first benevolent current of the day.

The Waccamaw River, in South Carolina, is one my favorite sections of the entire intracoastal waterway. It is also unique in the waterway for its feel of almost desolate isolation. This tanin-laced river, a few hundred feet wide, winds it way through an incredibly dense forest of tall cypress, loblolly pine, oaks and other trees, broken every few miles by a tiny settlement of houses or perhaps a small marina.

Each time Puffin passes through this magnificent wilderness waterway, an inexplicable foreboding scratches at my brain. It's an easily navigable waterway that nonetheless leaves one feeling very alone. Few shorebirds present themselves, so there is no visible movement on shore and the forest edge itself is visually impenetrable. Pieces of water hyacinth float by, their thick, protruding leaves like the ears of strange amphibians. Other dark images can float through a mind idled by the ease of piloting this river. As always though, I am visually entranced. And today, never more so than with the anchorage Nancy has picked for the evening.

She guides Puffin into a narrowing offshoot of the Waccamaw that still remains deep. In the darkening afternoon light, the creek looks like a constricted dead end but a glance at the chart reveals a last-minute, sharp bend that opens up into a beautiful little anchorage in twenty feet of water. We drop the anchor and just stand on deck in the dwindling daylight to marvel at the stillness of it. Only then do we hear all the small birds and peepers we can't see in the forest but that remind us we are not alone. Bob - November 12, 2010

_______

St. James Marina, North Carolina

There was just the barest hint of a dark red sky at 6 am this morning when we pulled out of Mile Hammock Bay. Facing us was a dredging barge parked right outside the bay's exit, in the middle of the ICW channel, with all its lights blazing, its generator running, but not a soul in sight. Receiving no VHF response, we guessed right , passing it to port, the standard protocol. We didn't go aground though it certainly felt like we were out of the channel. 

Today we faced the challenge of getting the timing just right to pass three bridges without waiting too long for an opening. Two of the three only open on the hour. I kept recalculating our timing as the currents shifted, first pushing us along and then slowing us up. Ultimately I had to turn on those afterburners to make two of the bridges, with the cooperation of the bridge tenders who were urging us on. (A Krogen afterburner adds about a 1/2 knot speed and triples fuel consumption.) Five hours after departure and 39 miles later we cleared all three.

We passed one of my favorite waterway scenes, a fake palm tree and parking meter that some jokester planted in a tiny sand spit next to the Wrightsville Beach Bridge- it has always been under water when we've spied it in the past. 

The end of the day brought us to St. James Marina, a tidy little marina several miles south of the Cape Fear River. The entrance is neatly notched into the side of the waterway such that we've never noticed it before. The marina is probably also overshadowed by the well-known Southport Marina several miles to the north that directly abuts the ICW. Southport is large and highly visible with glitzy mega-yachts often laced to the main dock for a fuel fix. 

A small sign announced the entrance to St. James Marina and a quick turn took Puffin through a narrow bulk-headed cut and into the marina. Nancy gasped a little as we passed into the marina basin - the marina looked perfect, almost like a toy marina. Everything looked neat, compact and oriented to boats from 18 to 45 feet. Surrounding the marina were new houses, nicely designed to fit in with the marina motif.

A helpful dockhand pointed to a restaurant and an on-site deli that stocked plenty of mariner's grub. There was also an eclectic retail shop and a deck-side tiki bar that were available along with the usual marina amenities.  Bob & Nancy - November 11, 2012

_______

Catching Up our Blog

I like to write about details for those of you who are planning their first trip on the ICW or repeaters looking for information about new places. So even though you know we are already in Florida, I am going to back up a bit with some short notes on places we stayed. 

Just north of Charleston, we anchored in Long Creek off Dewees Creek. This area is a good place to stop when it is late in the day and you don’t want to head into Charleston at dusk. Long Creek is supposed to have less current than Dewees itself, but I think we didn’t go in far enough, around the bend, so we had a lot of wind and a lot of current. It didn’t help that the anchor chain ran away from me so that instead of having 100 feet of scope, we actually had about 175 feet out. And guess what, that set off all the anchor alarms repeatedly through the night, so we didn’t sleep much. In the morning, the wind was still strong, and filled my lightweight hoodie so much that I thought I was going airborne when raising the anchor. Better wear a tie down next time.

In Charleston we stayed at the Ashley Marina. We think it is better protected than other marinas on the Charleston peninsula - went for 2 days and stayed a week. Enough said. We love Charleston.It’s a good idea to arrive at leave at slack tide though. Current can be fierce for docking.

We ran into our daughter’s best friend by totally by chance and a long way from home. We all went out to the Grill 225 for the best steak you can imagine; just not for the faint of wallet. 

We left Charleston and anchored across from the town of Beaufort, SC, behind the little island. There is less current here than at the marina dock or its mooring field, and not crowded, It helped that the wind was mild. A plus – we found good strong wifi here.

From Beaufort, we went to Kilkenny Creek and anchored not far from the ICW, as the wind was mild. In a strong wind, we’d go in farther. Another good wifi spot. The current does move your boat back and forth, but the bonus is that in the morning the anchor and chain are perfectly clean. Who can argue with that? Lots of jumping, splashing dolphins in this area.

Next, we anchored in St. Simons Sound, in the spot shown in most guide books just before the entrance to Jekyll Creek, Georgia. This is the second time we have stopped here and had no trouble despite it being within a major inlet, with big freighters going up and down the channel. We let out about 150’ of chain (this time we knew just how much we let out), but now our depth alarm went off in the night. No apparent reason, not dragging; we think dolphins were swimming under our keel and setting it off!

I should note that we have been doing what I tell everyone not to do, traveling through Georgia when the tide is low mid day. It can be very hairy, and you hold your breath a lot (not that it lifts your boat even an inch), but we managed okay with our draft of 4 ½ feet.  >>>>

An Anxious Night

The wind whistled across Puffin's decks last night, as she lay anchored deep in the salt marshes of the Carolina low country. We were a few miles north of Charleston off Dewees Creek. I played some music on the iPad during dinner to drown out the pervasive whistling of the wind. As we readied for the kip, the anchor alarm sounded. This is not a gentle chime. This alarm has the raucous sound of a police siren that wants your attention - a loud wah, wah, wah!. (It's an app from Jeff Siegel called "Drag Queen"). The persistent 20 knot wind and a current nearly two knots in strength certainly had the power to move Puffin if the anchor were not firmly embedded. 

I shouted to Nancy to get dressed while I bolted to the pilothouse to see what was happening. Pitch black skies and a nearly limitless vista of Spartina grass in every direction didn't provide much of a reference point. I started flipping on instruments to orient myself and prepare for any needed move. We still had sufficient depth, so immediate action wasn't needed. The current had begun its ebb and now we were stern to wind with the bow overrunning the snub-line to the anchor. There should be little pressure on the anchor, I reasoned, but the track line on the chart plotter showed boat movement of over two hundred feet......we must be moving. 

I started the engine and powered up the radar, not looking forward to a midnight move in rain, wind and a Carolina swamp.......Another glance at the depthsounder showed we still had time to think this out before moving........We remembered that the windlass clutch had slipped at little while anchoring. And Nancy had lost count of the paint markers on the anchor chain.

We realized we must have more chain out than we thought, probably at least 150 (we were in about 18 ft of water at low tide.) That could give us a swing radius of 300 feet. More than I had figured on when I set the alarm. Hmm...... I suggested Nancy return to bed. I would stay up awhile longer and watch. Truly it was to let my heart stop thumping because sleep is not possible for me at those elevated heart rates. Later, after resetting the alarm, I dozed off. 

Preparing to leave this morning, we reeled in two hundred feet of anchor chain. We stop marking the chain at 150 feet and that's why Nancy couldn't see any more depth marks on the chain. We've always figured 150 of chain is more than enough for anyplace we might want to anchor. I think we'll add some more marks though. Bob - Nov 14, 2010

Comment from Gerri:

I dont think anyone had a good night last night. We were hoping for a good nights sleep tonight, but read the email I just sent you!

>>>> And now I am caught up with our previous blog that showed us arriving in Florida, in the St. John’s River. From there, we headed for another favorite stopover, St. Augustine. We have used the mooring balls at the city marina here in the past, but by luck always in the southern mooring field. This time, the only ball left was in the north field, and we did not have a fun night. The wind was against the current, there was a lot of bouncing around, banging against the mooring ball, lines squeaking, and little sleep. Fortunately we did not know to expect this, and had a very nice time meeting up with a friend we had met in the Exumas who was stopping there with his relatives. He was smarter than we were, and stayed at a marina up the San Sebastian River around the corner from the city.

The next night we were so tired that, instead of anchoring near the bridges in Daytona, we took a slip at Halifax Harbor Marina, an okay stop and a peaceful night.

The following day brought a long stretch on the Indian River with lots of wide open areas, not looking so good for anchoring, so we pushed ahead to the southeast side of Addison Point Bridge to try and get out of the northeast wind. We were dubious, but the wind died down and we had a fine night, anchored close to the seawall.

The next stop was recommended in Doyles On the Water Guide, just south of the Wabasso Bridge. Fairly protected and attractive, next to an environmental center, a good spot for weekdays when the traffic isn’t hectic. We’d like to gunkhole here some time. Note: the bridge noise is not at all intrusive.

Next stop, Fort Pierce Florida, at Harbortown Marina, to meet up with friends Alan and Gerri who are getting work done at the colocated Whiticar Marine in preparation for their departure to the Bahamas. Another new place for us. It has a nice small pool, a weight room, a shaded pavilion for activities and projects on hot days and gatherings, a nice lounge/TV area, a decent onsite restaurant, and good protection from currents and wakes. You can easily walk to a grocery, West Marine, and drugstore, though it is a few miles to the center of town. Overall, a nice easy going atmosphere.

And now, today, we have reached Sunset Bay Marina in Stuart Florida, where we are busy catching up with good friends, and will stay until we launch the next phase of our travels after the holidays. December 8, 2012

______