Wednesday, October 31 – Happy Halloween – still in Osprey Marina:  I don’t like getting up in the dark, and it was dark at 7:00 a.m. this morning.  But I am looking forward to the day because it is rumored that the Waccamaw River is one of the most beautiful along the ICW.  I also don’t like the time change coming up this weekend, but I do like the fact that it will be lighter in the morning, and Bob makes a good point that the early daylight is to our benefit in getting going.  Ok – I’ll give him that one.  I make a quick breakfast (yogurt, coffee, and raisin toast), we perform the getting ready ritual - all charts, phones, lemonade, crackers, and other paraphernalia up to the flybridge – the cat is in hiding under the covers, the sun is shining, oh…and by the way, did I mention that…I…hate…boats!!       

            Now – the starboard engine won’t start!!!  What is this – some kind of sick Halloween prank?!  Boats have minds of their own, you know!

            So here we go again.  Down into the engine room – strange mutterings from down below, perhaps a few expletives – panels in the forward head are unscrewed, and I hear more strange mutterings.  The nice dock hand is offering his generous advice and helpful hints – wires are separated, touched, and untouched and put together again.  And then – the inevitable – walk up to the office and call a repair guy.  So right now, here I sit while the beautiful Waccamaw River waits, but the sun is shining, we have a slip reservation in Georgetown and it is not far to go.  I remain semi hopeful…

            Ok – the rest of this story is going to be bad…really bad…so if you have a sicker sense of humor than I have – stop reading now!  The mechanic came – early – which was amazingly wonderful.  He tried to start the engine, appropriately wiggled the starter button, unscrewed and tested the electrical contraptions behind the wheel – couldn’t find anything there – disappeared down in the engine room – lots of clanking and thudding going on down there – but no starting of the engine.  So Bob and I are looking at each other and then at the mechanic, and then someone who will remain nameless says to the other person who will remain nameless, “Is it possible that the shifters weren’t in the neutral position?” That will definitely prevent an engine from starting.

“Hmmmm…don’t see how that could be possible, but, ah…”

“Hey, Glen (that’s the mechanic), ummm, maybe we should make sure the shifters are in the neutral position.”

Do I need to go any further with this story??  Suffice it to say that after a few red faces, major chuckles all around, a check for the mechanic’s time, WE WERE ON OUR WAY!  Ok, now my one question is, why didn’t the mechanic ask if the shifters were in the neutral position before he even hung up the phone??  In all honesty, the shifters looked like they were in neutral, but the starboard engine shifter had shifted just a teensie bit off so it would not start.  Oh well, lessons learned…

One good thing is the cat is getting used to strange people trekking around the boat, and she may be getting used to being a “nomad” cat – unlike her owner – just kidding.

So as we leave Osprey Marina, (Mile 373) and turn toward the ICW, we encounter two sailboats that Bob wants to pass, which we do so without too much trouble.  But I have come to the conclusion that the majority of boaters do not have a clue about the proper way to pass or be passed.  If the boat being passed would just slow down, the passing boat could also slow down and actually cause less wake.  But no, most boats being passed just keep charging ahead, and we all wonder why the passing boat has caused such a wake – because you need to drive at mach speed to pass the idiots!  On occasion, I’ve actually heard the boat doing the passing ask the other boater to slow down!

The rumors about the Waccamaw River are true.  It is a stunningly beautiful river.  The meaning of Waccamaw is unknown as the language of the Waccamaw Indians was never preserved.  The river starts around Mile 375 and ends at Georgetown a little past Mile 400.  Black bear inhabit this area, but I never saw one even though I had the binoculars glued to my eyeballs again.  I was hoping I would see alligators, but I think we are still a little too far north to see those critters.  I saw a lot of driftwood that looked like alligators, though.  The river is very deep even up to the tree line.  The State reptile is the Loggerhead Turtle, and I saw large numbers of them sunning themselves on the logs close to the shore (however, I don’t know if they were actually loggerheads.)  The tree line is a mixture of deciduous trees beginning to change colors from green to yellow, red, and orange, and Cypress and other evergreens with Spanish Moss clinging to their branches.  There is no sign of any development whatsoever.  It is serene and beautiful with little islands of green shrubbery and cypress “knees” dotting the river. 

Finally, though, serenity gave way to the beginnings of civilization, and we started to see some beautiful homes near the waterline, and could smell wood fires burning.  The wind is still blowing like crazy, and actually picks up even more as the afternoon wears on and we near Georgetown.  We cruise under the Lafayette Bridge and call the Harborwalk Marina for instructions to get into our slip.  It is really blowing now, and the slip is tricky to get into, but Bob does a great job of maneuvering the boat.  Fortunately, there were three people on the dock to help us.  The next guy to enter this little harbor wasn’t so lucky, however, and managed to run into a sailboat and the dock!  We go for a walk around the town, come back to the boat.  I make orange ginger pork medallions with rice and peas, and we settle in for the night. 

Tomorrow we plan to head Isle of Palms.

Leaving Osprey Marina

Lena Victoire at Osprey Marina

Along the Waccamaw River

Tuesday, October 30 (Still in Osprey Marina – Socastee):  We had all good intentions of getting up this morning and heading to Georgetown by way of the Waccamaw River which is supposed to be one of the prettiest parts of the waterway.  However, we got up late (due to entertaining the night before – yep – got to use those crackers), it was windy, gray and cold, we hemmed and hawed, and finally decided that it would be a very good idea to stay right where we were for another day.  It turned out to be an advantageous decision as we accomplished a lot of mundane stuff (like defrost the refrigerator) and made plans and preparations for the rest of the week.  First thing was to contact family and friends as to how they survived “Sandy,” and, thankfully, it seems everyone (including relatives in New York) came out relatively unscathed. 

            So, after breakfast (it seems we managed to wolf down all the sweet rolls the marina gave us in their “welcome” package when we pulled in yesterday) Bob sat down and planned the itinerary for next week.  We made marina reservations and planned potential anchorages.  We decided not to stop in Charleston.  We’ve been there many times, and we will have the best tide and current conditions to go through Elliott Cut if we bypass Charleston.

            All of this planning makes one very hungry and there is an Italian restaurant in the Town of Socastee that will come to the marina and pick you up.   After you have lunch, you can go grocery shopping, and then the restaurant will bring you back to your boat.  So that was our next plan. 

            It’s amazing, but we met a couple in the restaurant who used to live in Prince Georges County, Maryland, until they moved to Socastee.  I wanted to ask them how they came to move to this town (I mean it’s not like it’s one of Businessweek Magazine’s Best Towns To Live In), but I figured that was none of my business and let it go at that. 

            Socastee is a Native American name referred to as “Sawkastee” in a 1711 land grant.  I read the history of this place, and apart from finding nice people in the restaurant and grocery store, can’t for the life of me find anything terribly interesting or historic about the place that would make one want to pull up stakes and settle here.  In 1875 they had a tar kiln, and I guess it became a center for trade around this time because of the turpentine industry.  Hmmm…sure makes me want to move here…

            Once we got back to the boat, the cat was feeling adventurous and looked outside, and Bob and I played cards.  Right now, it’s getting warmer, the sun is shining - on to Georgetown tomorrow.

Lucy in her cat bed

Looking out on the entrance to Osprey Marina

Turtle taking a sunbath

Danger sign at rock pile

Cable cars over ICW for golf course

Socastee Swing Bridge

Monday, October 29 – Mile 345 – 373 (The Rockpile):  Bob was bound and determined to “get outta Dodge” this morning, so with some help from the dockmaster, we left Myrtle Beach Yacht Club.  It was very windy and cold.  It seems that “Sandy” has decided to hang around for awhile and deliver us some winter.  We are concerned about our friends and relatives up north.  But besides being cold and windy, the sun is out and it appears to be a beautiful day.  After awhile, the sun coming in through the eisinglass on the flybridge, warmed us up.

            The only challenge today is “The Rockpile.”  To put it bluntly, this is a stretch of the waterway that has rock ledges on both sides of the channel and the bottom is hard shale or rock.  I can’t tell you how many horror stories I have heard about this place.  I thought for sure we were going to wind up like the Costa Concordia; Soundings Magazine would surely do a story about us, and it wouldn’t be pretty.  I am also positive I read somewhere that you should never do this stretch at high tide (usually it’s the opposite and you should never go anywhere at low tide) because at high tide you can’t see the rocks sticking up out of the water.  (All the better to rip out your hull, my dear…).  However, there is only one really bad stretch (Mile 349 to Mile 352 – only three miles).  Well, we did it at high tide – never saw any of the nasty little rocks, had about 18’ of water the whole time; never saw a tug or barge ready to run us up on the rocks, and navigated the whole area without a hitch.  So, that’s that for the rockpile.  I won’t lie to you and tell you that I wasn’t a little nervous.

            We needed fuel, and Bob is appropriately forever looking for the lowest price, and Barefoot Landing Marina (a beautiful resort marina that might call for a stop on the way back) seemed to fit the bill.  The wind was howling and it was a bit of a challenge to get tied up, but when we finished fueling up, the boat shot away from the dock like a racehorse and on we went.

            This stretch of the waterway is very developed with lots of expensive looking hacienda type houses with tile roofs and Palmetto trees adorning the landscaped grounds.

            Speaking of which, the Cabbage Palmetto is the state tree of South Carolina and is where Palmetto bugs like to call home.  Sounds very environmentally symbiotic, but Palmetto bugs are nothing more than gigantic flying cockroaches.  Just thought you would find this bit of trivia interesting…

All this eventually gives way to just a mish mash of residential homes, and you can see shopping centers beyond the houses (even a McDonalds).  There is nothing really photogenic along this stretch.  But somewhere around Mile 360, however, the landscape turns into wooded areas reminiscent of everglades.  Lots of cypress trees and the beginnings of that greenish gray Spanish moss floating and weaving among the branches.  Here the water covers large areas off the actual waterway, and it looks like water pathways disappearing off into the woods.  I am thinking, “What a great place to find alligators.”  No alligator sightings, though.  Although, I thought the same thing about the dolphins, and then there were gazillions of them leaping around the boat.  Hmmm…not quite sure I want the same experience with the alligators.  In all honesty, one would have to jump out of the water and snap its jaws at me before I would probably see it.   One or two from a distance would be fun to see, though.  We did see a few turtles sunning themselves on some driftwood.  I don’t know what kind they were, but they were big!  We knew the wind was blowing strong, but we were actually very protected in here.

            Right after the Socastee Bridge (Mile 371) we turned to port to enter the well-marked but narrow channel that led to Osprey Marina.  It’s a nice little stop that gives you a “care package” with laundry detergent, pens and paper, crackers (ha ha) and some pre-packaged breakfast sweet rolls (Bob was happy).  So we are tied up here for the night, and we will see what the weather holds for tomorrow.

            It’s funny, but as we were on our way here, I was thinking back to when we met this couple in Bath and had hor d’oeuvres on their boat then went to dinner with them.   I was thinking that encounters like this would probably happen often and that I needed to buy some more “cheese and crackers” to be prepared for those occasions.  Well, we haven’t had any more social encounters like that since then, and, darn, I have all those cheese and crackers…humph.  Well, guess who is in here with us tonight!  The same people – so we are going to invite them over, but it is getting late and Bob is taking a nap.  Maybe I won’t get to serve those cheese and crackers after all…

Myrtle Beach Yacht Club at dusk

Enjoying wings and beer - life is rough!

Sunday, October 28 – Myrtle Beach:  Yesterday, Saturday, we were pretty much “slugs” and really just took the day off.  However, to prepare for the hurricane, I made a spaghetti dinner, garlic bread, and we had a nice bottle of red wine.  However, the hurricane was basically a bust here – a little wind, a little rain – it must be saving itself for our friends and family up north.  Maybe I just willed it away since I can’t imagine riding out a hurricane in a boat.   So Sunday morning we slept in, made a nice breakfast of scrambled eggs with green onions and cheese and English muffins (is this boring enough for you, yet??) and then so we weren’t complete “slugs” again, I did laundry and cleaned the inside of the boat, and Bob cleaned the outside of the boat.  Now it’s all nice and clean and ready to get dirty again as we plan to head out tomorrow.   A boat is like a small child – the minute you clean it, it tries its best to get dirty immediately, and usually succeeds.  It’s almost a lost cause.  The restaurant here is pretty good and we decide to go there for lunch, which will be like dinner to us, and then chill for the rest of the day.  But – they have “award winning” wings on the menu (it seems they were featured on the food network and “The View” a few years ago) so Bob and I have decided to go for the wings later on.  Maybe we’ll be really daring and get a beer with them.  I hate to disappoint all you readers out there, but this has been basically the day.  Please…I can’t take every day like the ones we have been through previously.

            But don’t worry…tomorrow we leave for Cow House Creek, and we have to face the dreaded “rockpile”….

Saturday, October 27 (Mile 309 – Mile 346):  So Thursday afternoon, Bob and I were enjoying our well deserved quiet afternoon and working (playing) on our computers.  I was struggling trying to figure out how to better “share” the blog with some friends, and Bob says to me, “You’re talking to yourself.”

            I say, “I am not.”

            He says, “Yes, you are.”

            This goes back and forth a few times, and I finally say, “Well, if you were a prisoner on a boat for nine months (oh Bob says it’s not nine months – it must be nine years), with a worthless cat, and an uncooperative computer, you would talk to yourself, too!”

            …and that was all there was to that…

            I never did figure out how to “share” the blog, so if any readers have any suggestions or solutions, I would appreciate directions/instructions.

            I want everyone to know that this hurricane is completely Bob’s fault.  For days now, actually since the rain in Dividing Creek, Bob has been extolling the beautiful weather.  Hardly a few hours went by that he didn’t say, “I can’t believe the beautiful weather we are having.”  I’m thinking, he has to stop saying this - this is the kiss of death, and we are going to be stuck somewhere in the middle of the worst storm ever!  And lo! And behold! Here comes Sandy!  So blame Bob!

            I want to return to the story about the strange noises coming from the newly installed water heater.  The repair guy, Greg, was so nice to research what the noise could be, (something about the need for “carbonate (??)” to build up on the inside of the water heater to muffle the sound of it making hot water; but I don’t think he was right, especially, since the water heater was TURNED OFF.  So after I wrote about that matter, a friend of ours e-mailed us that the noise we were hearing was probably these little shrimp-type creatures eating the boat…no…no…eating the stuff that grows on the outside of the hull of the boat.  And I’m thinking, “Yeah, right…and the Easter bunny dyes his own eggs….”  So, like any thoughtful, interested person, I decide to check this out on the internet.  After all, like the ad says, you can’t put anything on the internet that isn’t true, right?  Well, amazingly, I found this website (www.paradiseyachtsales.net - so you can check it out for yourself), that talks about this very phenomenon.  It appears that there are these little snapping shrimp (Alpheus heterochaelis) that have two claws, one larger than the other, that it snaps shut as it catches its prey.  The article gets a little more detailed, but that was enough information for me.  So, I guess, maybe this is a true story, but I’m still skeptical.  Now - I have visions of a movie – it’s night time - all these little shrimp gobbling up the gunk on the outside of the boat, then gobbling up the boat, moving inside as they gnaw little holes in the hull, procreating as they go, we’re alone…)  Aw…c’mom…it’s Halloween!

            So, Friday morning, we leave Southport to head to the Myrtle Beach Yacht Club in South Carolina to ride out “Sandy”.  It’s sort of sunny, but working it’s way to mostly cloudy.  I am back in long pants, and a sweatshirt.  We are in a part of the waterway (mile 315 to 320) that is very developed on both sides – sorry to be disparaging, but, basically, it’s ugly.  There are huge McMansions, run-down shacks, and everything in between chock-a-block stuffed on every available piece of buildable land, and maybe not so buildable.  All of the homes are up on stilts.  I mean why would you want to wake up one morning, say, after Sandy, and look outside and have the distinct impression that your house was floating?   I mean, that’s acceptable in a boat, but not in a house.  Oh well, I’m sure the owners love living near the ocean, and there are always compromises.  There is also an “odor” along this stretch of ICW of a too many people smell (if you know what I mean).   So on down the ICW we go to face the first obstacle – Lockwood’s Folly Inlet – Mile 320 (what a name!).  Apparently, this inlet has shoaled in considerably, and the marks have been appropriately moved (hopefully) but that means they won’t match the marks on the chart plotter – it’s shallow, and we are traveling on a falling tide.  This is a great opportunity to run aground.  We hear chatter on the radio - some people say stay close to the red marks, others stay closer to the green – we pay attention, religiously, to the marks, and stay in the middle, and we traverse through this area with no problems.  That doesn’t mean I wasn’t holding my breath!  

            Around this area, we notice a DeFever following us, and he hails us, and we wind up passing information back and forth about the conditions that we have heard about ahead of us.  There were no other boats other than the two of us who appear to be traveling south on this day – we’re guessing that most people have already found a spot to hole up in to wait out the hurricane, which was what we were heading to do.  Lot’s of little fishing boats, but no one traveling south, so it was actually nice to have some company along the way.  He was going farther than we were, and he was anxious to get to his destination. 

             The ocean is clearly visible for the most part as you pass these inlets, and it is amazing to realize how close to the ocean you really are, and all that separates you from the great wide beyond is a little strip of land that would be breathtakingly beautiful if it wasn’t spoiled by all the development.

            The next inlet that gave us pause was Shallotte Inlet (Mile 330), but we had no problems there either.  However, Little River Inlet (Mile 342) was coming up, and although we had no problems there either, I am always nervous when I hear it could be difficult to get through an area, especially at low tide.  Bob never seems to be nervous about anything.  He just whistles away (well, Bob doesn’t whistle, but you get my drift).  It is about 11:00 a.m. (no…I am never going to write 1100 hours, so get over it), the sky has now turned to gray with heavy white clouds frowning down on us.  This inlet is a convergence of Little River and the Calabash River.  It looks just like an intersection with red marks trying to be copycats of stop signs.  The current runs madly through here every which way – little scurrying ripples chasing after each other, running helter skelter, seeming like they don’t know which way to go.  The landscape is relatively flat here on both sides, and full of marshes with rivulets snaking through the grasses everywhere.  The grayness of the sky, the steel gray color of the rushing water, combined with the yellowish green landscape, give the whole picture an eerie sense of beauty.  We inched our way through here, saw the water level fall from 16’ to 7’, and then, thankfully, start rising again!  We radioed back to our DeFever friend and told him how we navigated through here.  He made it ok, too.  Phew, that was the last obstacle! 

            We are in South Carolina! It is hard to believe we have come so far!

            The old Sunset Beach pontoon bridge has been removed and a big, 65’ vertical clearance bridge has been built in it’s place, so nothing to hold us up from getting to our destination for the evening (or next few days.)  We arrive around 2:00 p.m., get tied up, go check in (the usual routine), do some work around the boat, take a break, and it’s time for dinner!  So we head to the marina restaurant and have a great dinner of broiled flounder, spinach and roasted potatoes, and wine, of course!  Back to the boat, I think I may write some for the blog, but fall asleep at 8:30 p.m.!  So, today, Saturday, we go back to the office and reserve our slip for another, possibly two more days, I play with the cat, Bob checks the status of the hurricane (tropical storm), hurricane (tropical storm) – who knows what it’s going to end up being, and play cards.  We are hoping that “Sandy” just goes out to sea, but it appears that our friends and relatives back home may be in for a “bit of weather.”  Later on, I will probably do boat work (that rhymes with housework).  More later… 

Sunset at Southport

Sandy on a shack

Scenery along the waterway

One of many outbuildings on the water