Month: May 2021

Today, like many days, started with a request to open a bridge, the Elizabeth City Bridge, on the waterway heading north. Our neighbors left before 7:00 because the bridge restricted openings during “rush hour” and was only going to open at 7:30 and 8:30 until they resumed “opening on demand” at 9:00 AM. Captain Mark had already researched and found that the 7:30 opening was the earliest we should leave because there was a lock 3 hours away, that wouldn’t open until 11:00 AM anyway. He shared his knowledge with our neighbors, but they decided to press on anyway.

So, we set off around 7:15 AM. Leaving our 4-piling docking was a lot easier than docking. We let go of the lines and took off without incident. We passed through the 7:30 opening of the Elizabeth City Bridge and started up the waterway to the Great Dismal Swamp. Today was a perfect day for Sidekick Sue…. we were in a protected waterway all day; it was warm weather, blue skies, and no tides or strong currents. The beginning of the waterway followed the tail of the of the Pasquotank River, so it wound back and forth. It reminded us of the Jungle Cruise at Disneyland without all the animatronics. There was lots of debris and snags in the water, so we traveled at about the same speed as the Disneyland ride, staying carefully as close to the center of the river as we could to avoid bumping into anything or getting anything stuck in our propeller. At some point, we took a turn into a 22 mile manmade canal that was perfectly straight for the rest of the day. We later learned that this canal took 12 years to build and was manually dug by slaves in the late 1700’s/early 1800’s. The Great Dismal Swamp was a known route on the Underground Railroad. Entire communities of slaves on the run lived in the swamp because conditions were so bad (wild animals, insects, snakes, wetlands) that they were rarely pursued into the swamp by their owners.

Before we actually reached the Dismal Swamp State Park, we had to pass through the South Mills Lock, as we had mentioned to our neighbors earlier. Sure enough, as we approached, our neighbors were there, waiting for the lock opening. We timed it well, but we still had to wait about 35 minutes, so they must have been waiting well over an hour. This was the first lock in our adventure so of course we were carefully following all the rules… wearing our life jackets and manning our lines. Once the gates opened, we were allowed to proceed inside. An extremely helpful and friendly woman came along the edge of the lock and grabbed our lines using a boat hook. She wrapped them around bollards at the top of the lock and passed us back the loose end to hold onto. Our friends from the previous night were clearly more experienced and relaxed than us… no life jackets and no manning of the lines… they just cleated their lines and went about their business. The lock filled with water very slowly; once full, the gates opened, and we were given the green light to proceed out on the other side.

Three miles later, we passed through a pedestrian bridge that opened for us automatically. We supposed they must know the lock schedule and know when the boat traffic will be coming through. We docked behind our friends and visited the Dismal Swamp welcome center, which was basically a rest stop on the highway. It was funny to see the looks on people’s faces when they realized that their highway rest stop was also a rest stop for boats. Just a few hundred yards away was the entrance to the Dismal Swamp State Park. We went to the Visitor’s Center and were directed back over the pedestrian bridge we had just come through, to a half mile elevated boardwalk that meanders through the swamp. While the swamps are home to larger wildlife (like bobcats and black bears), we only saw frogs, snakes and butterflies.

After our walk, we dragged out our folding bikes for the first time this trip. We biked out a 3 mile paved path through the State Park and back. We returned to the boat where we are allowed to stay docked overnight. Our friends decided to move on, but two other boats arrived (a sailboat and a catamaran) and we went out to help them get docked for the night. We enjoyed a few beers out on the fly bridge. This, my friends, was a most perfect day.

Another successful night at anchor. We tracked our position in Navionics all night and we barely moved, just rotating around the anchor with the changes in wind and current. Captain Mark made breakfast, an omelet with artichoke hearts and extra cheese for Sidekick Sue since we were running low on meat sides. After breakfast, we pulled anchor and started across Albermarle Sound.

Albermarle Sound is a vast open crossing. There are times when you can’t even see land in some directions. The guide books warn against attempting it during high winds; one guide book warned that it can be tougher to cross than the Gulf of Mexico. We happened to be here under ideal conditions, warm and very low winds. Because of conditions, it was easier than some of the other open water crossings we have made. Leaving the sound, we went by the shapes that we had thought were large tankers or container ships out in the distance when we saw them on the horizon the night before. It turns out these objects were much closer than we thought, and much smaller than we thought. More investigation revealed that they were actually duck blinds built out in the shallower water. We wanted to get closer to see them, but didn’t want to stray too far into the shallows for a picture. None of them were occupied; duck hunting in NC is in the Fall.

Crossing the Sound was, thankfully, uneventful. Mark did most of the driving, as Sidekick Sue prefers the canals over open water. Sue is still trying to get the hang of holding onto a course when there isn’t any land on both sides; it’s easier to just “stay in the middle” then to try to follow a course using infrequent channel markers and the electronics. Nothing that we can’t fix with more practice. 🙂

Across the Sound, we entered the Pasquotank River to one of the most inland points on the river, Elizabeth City. We had learned of a free dock available, which is always an incentive, but we are slowly learning why many people choose to pay instead of searching out the free docks. This “dock” is a tiny little triangle surrounded by 4 pilings. Because our boat is square in the back and pointed in the front, we had to back in between the pilings to be close enough to the tiny dock to be able to get off the boat. Between that, and our lack of experience with tying up to pilings, we just did the best we could to get into the slip (didn’t hit the pilings), tie up to the cleats behind us and do some makeshift “lassoing” of the pilings until we could research the proper way to tie up (thank God for the internet and Youtube). Even secured properly, the deck is too short to reach the opening on our railing, so we are having to climb over the railing to get off the boat (the things we do to save money). Here is the image from Google Maps, if we are not clearly conveying the dock situation:

We know that once we start getting near the big cities (Norfolk, Baltimore, NYC, etc.) we will have to start paying for dockage, so we’re trying to delay the inevitable.

We walked around Elizabeth City, and a couple miles out to the Food Lion to stock up on some fresh food. It is a beautiful city, with lots of historic old homes, including the The Pond House Inn, that we were inspired to photograph. Notice the Cypress knees, sticking up like little garden gnomes around the base of the tree. We weren’t really familiar with these trees until spending time in North and South Carolina. As we’ve seen in other towns in North Carolina, the people are extremely friendly and inviting.

When we returned to the boat, we had new neighbors, who are travelling the same route as us tomorrow, so we will probably be seeing them on and off for the next few days. One of the best parts about meeting people on the loop is getting advice and suggestions from seasoned “loopers”. We are finding that a lot of knowledge in boating is “local”, meaning, you can’t find all the tricks and tips in the books. The people that have passed through before, have learned all the secrets, and are happy to share.

The theme for today is “accidents”….. but luckily not ours (knock on wood). More on that later. We started the morning with omelets and ham cooked by Captain Mark. Sidekick Sue had trouble getting up after the first 8 hour sleep in a VERY long time. Being isolated from all noise has its benefits. We also felt comfortable running the generator because there was no one to disturb.

Once again, we got an early start. We had a little bit of river travel (Pongo River) this morning, but it was fairly calm. Like most mornings so far, we had an early bridge crossing, but it was a tall fixed bridge that caused no obstacle. As we approached, we were hailed on the radio from another boat requesting to pass (as we mentioned earlier… we never pass anyone). Their captain commented on our hailing port of Lincoln, NH (painted on the side of our boat) because he knows Lincoln well (spends time in Lancaster). We chatted for a while. We don’t run into many people down here that know anything about New Hampshire. In our travels, we’ve found that very few people outside of New England have any idea which state is which and how they are organized. LOL

After the bridge we were in a nice calm canal for the majority of the day. At first, the scenery was like the previous days… tall trees and thick foliage. The guidebooks said to be on the lookout for deer and bears, but we were not lucky enough to spot any large wildlife today. As time went on, the riverbanks took on a swamp-like appearance, with stumps sticking out dangerously out the water. The navigation advice was to stay as close as possible to the very center of the canal to avoid deadheads (logs or trees hidden in the waterline) or snags (fallen trees, limbs or bushes). We made it through fine… but this brings us to the first accident. We passed a guy who was not so lucky. He was already being aided by a tow boat, so there was nothing for us to do but sympathize and move on, carefully. He clearly had hit something because there was water being pumped out of his boat and someone was diving around in the water to assess the damage. We were thankful to make a safe passage through the canal into the Alligator River

When you hear the name “Alligator River”, your first question might be “Are there alligators in the river?”. We didn’t see any, but we wondered the same thing. Today was a day without cell phone service for most of the trip, so there was no Googling until the end of the day. What I found out is there ARE alligators in the river, in fact, the river adjoins the Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge. However, it is believed that the river was named for the shape of the river long before any alligators migrated this far north. You be the judge:

At the mouth of the Alligator River was a swinging bridge (you can see the crossing for Route 64 above). The clearance was only 14′, so we needed to ask for a bridge opening. From far away, Captain Mark, with his eagle eyes, noticed that the cars did not seem to be moving across the bridge. As if the bridgetender had heard him, the radio came alive with a warning that there was an accident (the second one we encountered today) on the bridge and that the bridge would not be opening until the accident was cleared, since there were cars on the “swinging part”. So we bobbed around for over an hour and a half, watching from afar as the emergency vehicles and tow trucks arrived and left. Three more boats queued up behind us during the wait. Finally, the traffic started moving again, and as soon as the swinging portion was clear, the bridgetender stopped the traffic again and let the boats pass.

The first anchorage we were considering was too rough, so we decided to move on to a second recommended anchorage, which was just right. So we are anchored for the night, in the middle of nowhere with a sailboat in the distance and what looks like big tankers or container boats further out in the body of water we have to cross tomorrow…. Albemarle Sound. It may be our largest open water crossing so far, but the weather and wind predictions are looking good. Tonight we have more research to do; coincidently, there is a cell tower near the bridge we just passed so we have cell service for the first time since we left this morning.

We got a really early start this morning. Backing a boat out of a slip is difficult because the rotation of the propeller tends to kick your stern out. Since we didn’t want to hit the gigantic “Chaz’s Toy”, we used the lines to pull the boat to the end of the dock and hopped on. Just as Mark was ready to go, another boat pulled out behind us…. and then another. Since we had already cast off, we crossed our fingers. Sidekick Sue grabbed a spare fender and waited on the starboard side of the boat, ready to use it to bounce off of old Chaz if need be. Luckily we didn’t drift very far, and were finally able to back out and join the line of boats heading north on the ICW.

To Sidekick Sue’s disappointment, most of the day was spent crossing open waters, first the rest of the Neuse River, around a peninsula and then up the Bay River. There was a relatively short channel , with calm water, which gradually opened up to Goose Creek, the Pamlico River, and the Pungo River. Needless to say, all the travel on the rivers today was wild, cold and wavy. Captain Mark stayed at the helm wearing his insulated coveralls. Even though the sun was out, it remained chilly until late in the afternoon. Because we spent very little time in a channel today, there was only one uneventful bridge crossing where we waved at an oncoming Coast Guard vessel. Sidekick Sue took breaks from the flybridge to warm up in the cabin; it was not her favorite day on the water so far.

Around 2:00 PM, we pulled into the small town of Belhaven. There is a free town dock that is about half a mile from the town center, that apparently nobody uses because they don’t want to walk into town when there is a cheap dock right in downtown. Of course, the Dixons chose the free dock, since they needed to go for a walk to satisfy the Fitbit Gods anyway. So here we sit, in a VERY isolated dock at the end of a huge grassy field. We saw a couple of fisherman on the dock, but no other signs of life. Because the dock had no cleats, and the pilings that were on the outside perimeter of the dock, we spent some time getting creative with our fenders, positioning them sideways against the pilings and making sure that our lines were tightly wrapped and knotted around the pilings. After that we ventured into town.

Belhaven is a little town with a lot of personality. Its downtown area is cute, but clearly many stores have closed leaving a lot of vacant retail space (like many small towns across America). We did did our 5 miles of walking, weaving through the beautiful waterfront mansions, to the “regular” suburban homes and finally to the double-wide mobile homes. The town is very quiet, but the few people we encountered were extremely friendly. Drainage ditches run around the residential blocks, probably for flood control. At one point, a beaver popped out of a culvert, not realizing we were there. When he saw us, he disappeared in a flash. Sidekick Sue stopped to get a ice cream cone at an odd store that didn’t know if it was a restaurant, an ice cream stand or a thrift store. Got a “Pirate’s Treasure” on a waffle cone and chatted with the store owners, that were clearly glad to have our business. They told us that had we been there 2 weeks ago, we would have witnessed swarms of genetically modified mosquitoes that had been released to help control the mosquito population. It’s a good thing we missed that, because mosquitoes and Sidekick Sue do not mingle well.

We returned to the boat, able to use the generator to make dinner since no one is within a quarter mile of us. The Wayward Explorers are VERY tired and will probably call it an early night.

Gives a better perspective of just how isolated we were at the end of this dock, which was accessed through a huge field.

Today was a fantastic day. We were able to stick to “Plan A” and everything clicked like clockwork. We left our slip in Morehead City early, eager to beat the crowd and get a free town dock at our destination…. Oriental, NC.

Before very long, we approached a bridge crossing…. or actually a double bridge crossing. As Captain Mark drove, Sidekick Sue looked up information in the Navionics app to see what we had to do to request a bridge opening (if we needed a bridge opening). One bridge was tall… 65′ clearance…. no problem for the Wayward Explorer. The other bridge had only a 4′ clearance, but turned out to be a railroad bridge that is left in the open position, unless a train is approaching, so we breezed right through.

Most of today’s trip was through a well-defined channel of the Intercoastal Waterway which turned inland away from the ocean, keeping the water relatively calm. We finally motored out from under the cloud cover to beautiful blue skies. The final segment of our trip was a 3 mile crossing of the Neuse River. Like previous river crossings, the water became rough under heavy winds and wild waves. For the first time, we had water crashing over the bow. Sidekick Sue had gone downstairs to warm up, and was frantically running (or falling) around the boat (as it lurched from side to side) securing loose items and latching cupboards that hadn’t been properly latched (we get a little lazy on the trawler because we aren’t used to such rough water).

As we turned into the harbor in Oriental, NC, the water was suddenly calm. Our plan was to get a spot at one of the two free docks, provided by the town. There was a boat in front of us that looked like they were searching for somewhere to park, and we patiently waited at the opening to the narrow harbor, with our fingers crossed, that they wouldn’t take the spot we were eying. Luck was with us again, as they circled several times and finally pulled in somewhere else. We happily pulled into our desired spot, bow first again, as it was a tight spot with “Chaz’s Toy” next to us. We pulled the boat forward to make room for someone else to part behind us, excited to be at our destination by noon, with plenty of time to walk, sightsee, and take care of a few chores.

While taking a quick break, a sailboat pulled in behind us. The sailor was alone (besides his two dogs) and didn’t have his fenders or lines ready for docking so we ran out to help him get tied up (and keep him from ramming into our boat LOL). As it turned out, the docks filled up quickly; we had arrived just in time. Once settled in for the day, we took a long walk, stopping at a cute marine provisioning/general store (to gets some parts for the alternator) and out of the town center to Piggly Wiggly to get some eggs and pizza fixings.

Returned to the boat to take care of some chores. Mark fixed the alternator, which wasn’t properly charging the batteries while the motor was running (requiring us to run the generator for several hours a day). Sidekick Sue applied some opaque film to the window in the boat shower, because she was super grossed out by the fact that there was a fabric curtain inside the shower stall (who does that?). There was free pump-out and water at the dock, so of course we took full advantage.

Finally, we found a cute Café for dinner, since we aren’t supposed to run the generator at the town dock (so no cooking in our Ninja Foodi or our hotplate). The menu told us that the curious name of Oriental was given to the town (originally named Smith’s Creek) in 1899 when the postmaster’s wife found the nameplate from the wrecked sailing steamer “Oriental” on the beaches of the Outer Banks. Apparently, she decided it would be a more fitting name for the town. I guess the postmaster’s wife was a powerful position.

Settled in for the night, very satisfied that everything ran according to “Plan A” all day long (well except maybe the crazy rough water). I guess that makes up for the future days when we will have to go to “Plans B, C & D”.

The morning of Day 2 came really early. Neither Mark nor Sidekick Sue slept very well, constantly analyzing every noise and getting up to make sure we weren’t dragging anchor. With every thump and wave, we were convinced we were drifting and bumping into things. It will be a while before we have confidence in our ability to stay in one place.

In the morning light, it was clear to see we hadn’t moved at all. Our anchor had held fine, even as the tide turned and swung our boat around throughout the night. Mark made a hearty breakfast of omelets and ham and started to prepare the dinghy for exploration on land in Wrights beach. As it turned out, conditions seemed too rough for our inflatable dinghy (which we haven’t used enough to know its capabilities and limitations). In the end, we decided to err on the side of safety and forego the trip to shore and press on.

As we prepared to raise the anchor and move on, we realized that we had to hustle to get to our first waypoint, a drawbridge that opened on the hour. Of course, we got there at two minutes after the hour, but we had radioed ahead, and the bridge tender held the bridge open for us (and a small boat that snuck in ahead of us from nearby dock).

The next bridge (a swinging bridge) opened on the half hour. Of course we got there half-way in between openings, but didn’t have to wait too long because the bridge was already open to allow a huge commercial barge to pass through. Our challenge was to stay out of its way and then we were given permission to pass through. Captain Mark was scolded because the bridge tender claimed he had tried to radio us (to warn us of the huge barge), but neither one of us heard him calling or responded. We were on the right channel, so this becomes another mystery as we figure out how to navigate the ways of the waterway.

Overall, the water was rough today. It was chilly and wavy and both of us eventually relented and got out our foul weather gear. Today we learned the hard truth that slow moving trawlers are the “RVs of the waterway”. Like slow moving RVs on the highway, we are sometimes responsible for slowing down traffic and victims of the “waterway rage” when other boaters get the chance to pass us. As they gun past us, they leave huge wakes behind for us to bob around on. It’s a little scary at first, because you basically lose control of your steering for a few minutes as the wake rolls you around. Every once in a while, someone radios ahead to request a “slow pass”, but that is the exception, not the norm.
One group that sped by us was a bunch of Marines on a mission, several inflatables of young marines, armed to the hilt, followed by a boat full of officers. Like yesterday, we saw a number of pods of dolphins. They are hard to photograph, as you only catch short glimpses of their dorsal fins.

Our first plan was to anchor at a highly recommended anchorage near Camp Lejeune. Apparently, it a nice isolated anchorage with front row seats to watching the Marines execute their practice missions. However, looking forward at the weather for Day 3 (storm and rainy all day), we decided to press on to Morehead City, NC where we could get a cheap dock for a couple of nights to wait out the storm (much more enjoyable than spinning around at anchor for 48 hours or trying to continue the trip in high winds and rain). The added benefit is having electricity without having to run the loud generator, and being in the heart of a little city, close to shops and restaurants. That decision, basically doubled our mileage for the day, making for a really long day. Sue went below and cooked dinner and we took turns eating and driving while approaching Morehead City. Sidekick Sue was impressed , standing at the galley window, as we passed through another drawbridge without any panicked calls for help from Mark. Captain Mark must be getting more comfortable navigating the low bridges with confidence.

We pulled into the dock around 5:30. The current was strong and it took a couple of attempts to get into a slip, until we decided to give up trying to “back in” (we may have had a controlled collision with a piling) and went into our slip bow first. We were greeted by a wonderful character, Dockmaster Lee Everett, who had stayed past closing to make sure we got in safely. The best time to dock is around low or high tide when the water is “slack”. Unfortunately, we were arriving at the worst time, halfway between low and high tide, so he wanted to be there to help (and perhaps protect his pilings LOL). Dockmaster Lee was wonderfully welcoming, providing us with his hand-drawn picture of the town and telling us all the best spots for eating and shopping. We spent some time walking around town, trying to get our “Fitbit steps” for the day, since we hadn’t gotten to shore at all on Day 1.

So far, Day 3 has been uneventful. We are tied up safely to the dock, watching the rain and wind. Captain Mark is researching some maintenance issues (problem with the alternator) and Sidekick Sue is working on blog, bills and a few sewing projects). At some point, we will don the wet weather gear and venture out into the town to get some exercise. While we are disappointed to be sidelined for the day, only three days into our trip, we are grateful for opportunity to be on this journey together.

Well, after a long Covid break, Mark and Sue are back at it again. Last year we had to cancel a couple of bike/camping trips (both domestic and foreign) because of closed campgrounds and closed borders. Now that we are fully vaccinated and the country is approaching a turning point, it seemed reasonable to safely venture out again, as long as we remained relatively away from the crowds.

This adventure started in 2018 at a party with some college friends at the home of our friends, Sue and Dave, on Cayuga Lake in the NYS Finger Lakes. We were boat watching when someone mentioned that you could travel by boat from Cayuga Lake to NYC via the Erie Canal and the Hudson River. From that discussion we learned about the Great American Loop, and the various ways to traverse it, even going up into Canada. We were shocked that we had never heard about it before, and soon were were researching the Intracoastal Waterway and the canal systems through NY. A few weeks later, we were in Canada, on Buckhorn Lake, visiting our friends Sue and Steve (who had been part of the conversation on Cayuga Lake) . Steve pointed out a trawler that was tied to a dock waiting to go through the locks and said…. “those guys are loopers”. Well, we pulled up beside them and had a great conversation and they shared their “business card” as they were actually “looping” enthusiasts that would travel to yacht clubs to teach other people about the Great American Loop which is also connected to the Trent-Severn Waterway in Canada. That’s all it took to plant the seed……

Fast forward to 2020….. Covid had cancelled most travel. Family situations required us to travel from NH to upstate NY several times, and we started talking about perhaps having a “footprint” in NY so we would have a home base when visiting family. We looked at cottages (too much work), apartments (blah), RV parks (nah), and finally decided a marina would be fun (at least for the warm part of the year) and would later provide the vehicle to explore more portions of the Great Loop. Mark researched and found an old 1988 Albin 36 trawler in Little River, SC. We spent several weeks at the Myrtle Beach Yacht club (which is neither in Myrtle Beach or a real yacht club) in relative isolation (with a few visits from vaccinated sister Cathy and her husband Todd) cleaning and working on the boat (and making practice runs) before embarking on our first adventure…. moving it to Plattsburgh, NY.

That brings us to today. After several weeks of work, it was time to set out. We woke up super early, checked out at the yacht club, paid our bill, went to the fuel dock to get 155 gallons of diesel, pumped the “poop tank”, filled the water tank, and left our temporary home. We motored north on the Intracoastal, seeing several clusters of dolphins, hundreds of crab pots, and thousands of birds. As we started only 5 miles from the border of North Carolina, we quickly crossed the state line. After about 40 miles, we reached Southport, NC which was our “Plan A” for staying the night. However, the town dock, which had been wiped away in a hurricane in 2018 was not completed enough to accommodate boats of our size, and the anchorage area looked too small for a couple of amateur anchor-ers like ourselves. We decided to press on with Plan B which promised a much larger anchorage near Wrightsville Beach (but 3 more hours on the water).

To stay on the ICW, we had to navigate through the opening to the Cape Fear River, which was vast and wavy, and felt much like being on the open ocean. Between the waves, the strong current, and the wind, it was very hard to hold a course. Captain Mark persevered while Sidekick Sue curled up on a lounge chair to take a nap (while feigning seasickness). Sue returned to the helm once the waters calmed, while Mark busied himself with getting the anchor rode and chain ready. We steered to our anchorage for the night and anchored successfully the first time, joining a couple of fellow loopers. While we really wanted to go ashore and explore, we opted to stay with the boat, until we have a few more “anchorings” under our belts. This is the first time we’ve anchored overnight, and we suspect we may be sleeping lightly tonight, as we keep checking our bearings constantly. 🙂