Savannah, Fire Trucks and Police Cars

There are lots of ways to get to Savannah. You can drive, take a bus, Uber, maybe a train, hitchhike, bike. Hey, get a horse. Just don't go in by boat!!!

After a lovely short trip from Beaufort, we came into the Savannah River, a narrow river filled with huge commercial vessels and virtually no small craft or pleasure boats. I tried calling ahead to the city dock and there was no response. We arrived to the downtown and saw a few ferries and tour boats and numerous small, working tugs. Bill finally reached the dock on a weekend phone number and we pulled up to the dock between 2 large tour boats. The river current was ripping and we  used every line we have on our boat to tie up.

After getting settled on the dock, we walked up the ramp to a riverfront park that was set up with souvenir vendor tents and a stage with a heavily amped DJ playing rap music. We were told that this would only go on until 1 or 2 am! Yikes.

We then walked up into beautiful Savannah. We took another tour, this one was terrific. The city was planned and laid out in rectangles in 1733 by James Oglethorpe. There were originally 24 block sized parks spread through the city and 22 of those parks remain.

Oglethorpe was ahead of his time.  Frederic Law Olmsted is considered the father of landscape design, and he worked 100 years later, designing many of the famous city parks in the US and Canada, including Central Park, the Boston parks and the Golden Gate park in San Francisco. Beautiful public space makes a big city livable.

The huge Savannah houses had seen better days until the 1970s, when the Savannah School of Art and Design (SCAD) began to do restoration projects. There are 80 buildings in town that have been fixed by this great art school. Many movies have been filmed in Savannah, including Forest Gump, The Longest Yard, Something to Talk About, and Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, which we watched last night on our boat after going by the mansion earlier in the day where the true story took place.


Late afternoon we went to the Ships of the Sea Maritime Museum, which featured a number of ship models done by a man from New Hampshire.  One model of the last slave ship showed how slaves were shackled during the voyage.   Others included every large vessel ever named Savannah.

We then had an early supper at the Gryphon, run by SCAD students.  The museum had been a mansion and the restaurant an old apothecary. Thinking we had had adventure enough with our arrival into Savannah, we headed back to the boat.

Fire trucks and police cars lined the Savannah waterfront, and our dock access was blocked off with police tape.  Fire fighters and police officers were everywhere.  As it turned out, two hours earlier the gangway that goes down to the dock collapsed, sending 54 people on a +/- 15 foot fall.  They had been waiting for a ferry to cross the river.  Seven had to be pulled from the water, and some went to the hospital with non-threatening injuries.  Unfortunately, one fire fighter died from a medical complication while assisting in the recovery effort.


There was no safe access to our boat, the only vessel at the city dock.  We spoke with the deputy city manager, a police officer and a fire fighter.  They suggested patience and said they would work something out to get us to our boat.  Finally, a deputy fire chief came up to us with a plan.  The Fire Department boat would pick us up at another dock and drop us off at our boat, provided that we moved it immediately.  It was now dark, and I was very concerned about motoring on this busy river, filled with commercial traffic, large and small, 24-7.   The ships are so large that they fill the whole sky when viewed from our boat.

The plan worked, and the Savannah fire fighters brought us right to our boat. We left with our navigational lights on to find another dock and after a little suspense in the swift current and a little pleading from me (slightly overly dramatic?) went on to the Westin staff  ended up at the hotel dock across the river. 

It was a good thing that we watched the movie because dredging, shipping activity and boat wakes went on until well after midnight.  Everything started again at 6 am Sunday morning although the wind had died down.


This ship has roughly 6,000 containers.  The dredging will
bring the harbor capacity to ships holding 10,000 containers.

We have had a quiet regrouping morning on our boat watching all the shipping and dredging activity. Now we will head for a quiet anchorage in Hilton Head tonight before leaving our boat there tomorrow and then heading to Atlanta for Thanksgiving. We are going "off the air" for a week or so and we hope everyone has a peaceful holiday.

Charleston, Ghost Boats and Beaufort, SC

We got into Charleston late Tuesday (11/15) afternoon after motoring past Fort Sumpter, where the first shot was fired in the Civil War, and anchored in the harbor near a massive dock called the MegaDock, filled with some amazing boats owned by the 1% of the 1%.  We saw some tenders that were as big as our relatively small 25' boat.

It was a super moon high tide.

Sun rising over Charleston Harbor

Some of you may recall Fred MaDan (my first husband). Fred has lived in Charleston since 1989 and we have not seen each other for 36 years! I tracked him down, gave him a call and he enthusiastically offered to give us a tour the next morning.  We woke up to a beautiful day, enjoyed eggs and toast on our boat and then rode our dinghy to the dinghy dock.  Due to the "king" tide from the super moon, the tides were about 3 feet above normal. We had to walk through the water to get off the docks. A boater coming in after us warned me to watch out for the alligators and snakes. Southern sense of humor.

 We met Fred, and he gave us a driving tour of "South of Broad", the beautiful section of Charleston filled with old houses that were once the summer homes of the rice plantation owners. He left us to go to a business meeting while we took a carriage ride through the historic section of town. This tour was nice, but did not compare to the cook's tour we had gotten from Fred.

We met up with him again after his meeting and he took us to a great, but tiny soul food café called Martha Lou's. The cooks/hosts were third generation in this spot. I had fried chicken, collard greens, mac and cheese and cornbread. Amazing! My Virginia mama made great fried chicken, but I don't think it compared to this.

Fred then gave us a tour of his grand, historic house. He bought the house in 1989, when real estate values were relatively low in the city. Shortly after he bought the house, Hurricane Hugo hit and wreaked havoc on the city, including doing massive damage to his house, particularly his roof. As devastating an experience as this was for Fred and his family, the neighborhood came together and fast friendships were formed. This house has been a labor of love for Fred the past 27 years. (If you're reading this Freddy, it really was great to see you!)

The next morning, we had a beautiful and calm ride to Beaufort, traveling past the old former rice plantations, and later we saw some aerial pictures that show the made-made canals that brought the fresh water to the rice.

Old rice fields



Picture of an aerial shot of the old rice fields and canal system



The scope of the rice fields and canals is almost beyond comprehension.

We spent Thursday and Friday nights in Beaufort.  This small city has a rich historical past, and unlike Georgetown and Charleston, was built on cotton plantations. The cotton that was grown here prior to the Civil War was considered the finest in the world.  As in Charleston, the plantation owners built summer cottages in Beaufort to escape the sweltering heat on the plantations scattered around the low country islands adjacent to the city. These homes were more elaborate than the plantation homes.  In one such home was born the slave Robert Smalls, who has one of the most amazing stories.



A slave house

Smalls' owner hired him out to a the owner of the coastal freighter called Planter in Charleston.  He proved to be quite capable and became a pilot on the ship.  After the start of the Civil War, Smalls staged a daring escape when the ship's white officers were sleeping ashore.  He gathered his family, other black crewmates and their families and motored the Planter out of Charleston Harbor, bringing the ship to Union lines near Beaufort, where he gave the ship up to the Union.  He was then hired by the Union and became a freed man, ultimately becoming the officer in charge of the Planter. After the war, Smalls was elected as the first African American congressman for South Carolina.  There is much more to his story that a good Google search will provide.

Beaufort was the heart of the Gullah culture with roughly 10,000 slaves and only 1,000 or so white land owners. It became an early target of the Union in the Civil War because of the harbor at nearby Port Royal, thought to be the finest deep harbor south of New York City.  The Union captured the harbor early in the War and arrived in Beaufort to find all the whites gone.  Consequently, Beaufort was not destroyed and served as a Union base and hospital center throughout the hostilities.  After the war, few whites were able to reclaim their plantations as they did not have sufficient funds to pay the "back taxes."  Many of plantations are private homes today but few structures associated with slavery remain.



This is home.

The man is an artist, not a sailor, and
 lives on this abandoned boat.

As we have traveled further south we have seen more of the devastation of Hurricane Matthew.  In Charleston, we saw some anchored sailboats that I call ghost boats. It turns out that most of them have been abandoned in the harbor, but some are apparently lived on, and we chatted with one fellow, an "artist", who is living on his boat, under a mass of junk, including broken motors, and who is waiting for his big break. We also saw some boats that were pushed up on the mud by Hurricane Matthew and have been left, both in Charleston and Beaufort.



This boat is high and true off
Charleston Harbor.

Wrecked, abandoned boats in
Beaufort, SC

I would have been happy to linger in Beaufort. I love the beautiful Maine coast and no coast has compared in beauty until now. They are, of course, very different, but both are stunning. Tomorrow we head for Savannah for a couple of days before heading to Atlanta to see our daughter and her baby and new family for Thanksgiving week.

Fog, Morehead, Wrightsville Beach, Swamps and Georgetown

This Tuesday morning we awoke to pea soup fog.  As one of our neighboring boaters said, "This must remind you of Maine!"  Georgetown, ME to Georgetown, SC! Maybe we brought it with us? There was some clearing after a three hour delay in our departure, but we still needed our radar, chart plotter, compass and some intense concentration once we got out of the Harbor.  Many times our radar picked up another boat or navigational mark long before we were able to see anything,.  After 5 miles of cautious travel, the sun broke through, and we were able to speed up on our way to Charleston, SC.

During the delay, we were able to gather our thoughts on our travels since we left historic Bath, NC.  Increasingly, we are seeing pelicans and eagles along the waterway. The cormorants sit on every available piling and the herons, both blue and white, line the shore. We have also seen a few porpoises or dolphins, not sure which. All along the coastal Carolinas, fishing is clearly the number one pastime, with boats of all sizes equipped with rods, lookout stations and special chairs for reeling in big tuna. 

Friday, Veterans' Day, we arrived in Morehead, NC, across the bay from its sister city, Beaufort, NC.  We much enjoyed Morehead with its renovated waterfront, quaint bungalows and friendly people.  Upon a local's recommendation, we had dinner at the Ruddy Duck and weren't disappointed.

I was not too happy with Bill on our bike ride to the grocery store.  He took a turn behind me, and the next thing I knew, he had disappeared.  In addition, he had my phone so there was no way to communicate.  He has his side of the story, but after waiting 10 minutes in the middle of the street with no sign of him,  I pedaled back to the boat.  I had cooled down a bit by the time he returned with the groceries in tow.




The next section of the Intracoastal Waterway has had much shoaling, or sand build up, due to Hurricane Matthew.  On two occasions we passed sailboats aground in the marked channel as they waited Boat US Towing or SeaTow, the water equivalent of AAA.  They likely needed 6 feet of water and the channel depth had been 10 feet or more prior to the hurricane.  We also passed the 15 mile border of Camp Lejuene, where Bill's brother, John, trained years ago for the Marines.



Wrightsville Beach

First deep in the ocean since
the Maine summer.

Wrightville Beach house,
raised up for storms

We anchored off the city dock at Wrightsville Beach, one of North Carolina's major beach resorts.  We motored ashore in our dinghy and walked the beach and some of the streets.  The ocean was  deliciously warm by Maine standards. 

Wrightsville Beach is a nice community with most of the houses raised up above ground level garages because of the constant threat of flooding and high tides.  I wish we had taken a picture of one of the utility poles that showed the height of Hurricane Matthew's water line above our heads.

Swamp off Waccamaw River

The next day started out with sun but quickly changed to cold rain.  After a long day on the ICW we anchored in a remote location on the Waccamaw River in South Carolina.  The narrow river is lined with Cyprus swamps on both sides and gave us the feeling of being on the set of Deliverance. Just before dark, I read in the marine guide that the occasional alligator is seen in this river.

Typical house in Georgetown

The next day we arrived in Georgetown, SC. We stayed at a nice marina and were able to walk around the town.  We saw a number of  historic buildings that survived the Civil War. The trees in these photos are live oaks, which I can only describe as elegant and magnificent.


Live Oak trees line the streets.



With my handmade doll

Georgetown was the center of the rice industry prior to the Civil War.  Rice, and to a lesser extent, indigo, fueled the local economy.  Rice farming was incredibly back breaking work and was dependent upon slave labor.  We toured the Rice Museum and our tour guide, Zenobia, a descendant of one of these slaves.  We found it interesting that she focused on the plantation owners and spoke little of the lives of the slaves.  We learned that in preparing the rice fields, the Cyprus swamps were first cut and burned and then canals dug by hand.  Each canal began with an adjustable dike to allow the water level to be controlled.  While rivers like the Waccamaw are impacted by tides, the fields are far enough up river so that only fresh water was on the rice fields.  Zenobia is an accomplished artisan, and I purchased one of her handmade dolls.

Old canal dike, one of the few left

Today, we motored past many of the old rice fields. The winding rivers and canals that we travelled today were perhaps the most beautiful stretch of the trip, so far. Because the land is so flat, its beauty is hard to capture with a camera. In this picture one can see one of the old dikes for a canal.





Now we are anchored off Charleston, and we look forward to going ashore tomorrow.

Ego Alley, Low Oil and Near Broach on Way to Norfolk, Alligator River and Bath

Ego Alley

Great catching up with family.

The Chesapeake Bay can be a first class bitch, and she was! I am sure that none of my friends or family would have enjoyed this day, with the possible exception of our daughter Caroline, the risk taker and lover of danger. After spending a great night in Silver Spring, Maryland with Bill's brother Bob, wife Nora and sons Max and Danny, we got off to a leisurely start from what turns out to be nicknamed Ego Alley, a dock in the middle of old Annapolis where people apparently pull their boats in to show off. Of course that's what we were doing, right alongside 60 foot Whiskey Tango Foxtrot and some other massive, shiny cruisers.


The first 20 miles were pleasant enough. We saw some sailboats with spinnakers flying, likely racing naval teams. We were quite a bit offshore, as the Bay is shallow throughout. The sun was strong and the air was nice and warm.  The historic lighthouses beautiful.

Then the first major issue of the day - our low oil warning alarm sounded.  We immediately switched to our auxiliary motor and spent the next 90 minutes limping into the nearest harbor.  After docking with some difficulty because of the increasing winds, Bill got the large cover off our main engine, added oil and, voila, we were back on course.

As we approached the Potomac River, the waves started getting intense. We had chop from the wind and swells, a nasty combination. Just south of the mouth of the Potomac, with the boat on autopilot, Salty Paws decided to turn sideways while surfing down a big wave. I know we heeled to 45 degrees (or more?) and held there. I knew we were going to capsize. Bill says no. I was completely terrified and really couldn't shake the feeling for quite awhile. Bill saved us again and took control of the helm from then on. He tells me that steering for long periods is exhausting. We are often going into the sun, as we are headed south, also wearing. We were finally able to pull into Little Wicomico Harbor and found a quiet anchorage for the night.


A quiet night in the  Little Wicomico River.

The next morning, we motored over to the sole marina in the harbor to get gas. Two fisherman in small skiffs, not sure if they were crabbing or fishing catfish, told us that we wouldn't do well out there today, so we turned around and headed back to our anchorage for another night. Who is going to argue with a crabber?



Norfolk Naval Yard

The next morning was great. We got an early start and were able to put in our longest day, about 130 nautical miles, or about 155 statute miles.

From Wicomico, we made it down to Norfolk Harbor, considered one of the best natural harbors in the world.
Our pix can't really show how massive some of these naval vessels are. And so many of them. On our tour through the Naval Academy, I had chatted with a fellow on the tour who happens to be an admiral in the Royal Navy, and is currently stationed at the Pentagon. He described our impressive navy and told me that I should be assured of our country's safety.



Waiting for the lock to open.

After Norfolk/Portsmouth, we reentered the ICW.  We wanted to go through the Dismal Swamp Canal, but it was closed due to debris from Hurricane Matthew.  We passed under 6 bridges, 2 of which we had to wait for openings on the half hour.


Just before the last bridge, we entered the Great Bridge lock. The 500' lock can hold many boats at once. We secured to the starboard side while waiting for the lock to empty. The boat waiting in front of us was from Maine, headed to Florida.

Our goal had been to get across the Albemarle Sound, which can also be nasty. It is shallow and even a small wind can stir things up. We made it across with no excitement and pulled into a small marina near the mouth of the Alligator River in Virginia at 5:30, half an hour after sunset. Ten minutes later would have greatly increased the difficulty of pulling in.


The sun was already setting when we arrived at the marina.

The slips in this neck of the woods are quite different from the ones we see in Maine. The boats pull in between pilings and throw lines over the pilings. There are then 3 spring lines on each side of the boat. The tide in this area has been 1-2' v. the 9 ' tides we have in Maine. Our high tides make this system impossible, so we have floating docks which rise and lower with the tides. Bill has become quite competent at managing our docking.

The next morning we went down the Alligator River, wide open and clearly marked. We then entered the 20 mile Alligator Pongo Canal. The book had suggested that we might see all kinds of wildlife, including deer, bears and maybe even an alligator. We saw not one living creature. Not a bird, nothing, for 20 miles. The canal was tricky as it was narrow with submerged fallen trees and other hazards on either side.

The Alligator Pongo Canal

We did see a few shipwrecks, but they were personal craft from the last 20 years or so. The canal was oddly beautiful in a bleak sort of way. After the canal, the Pongo River opened up and then the Pamlico River. Both were relatively calm. We came into Bath Creek off the Pamlico and are staying at the Bath state dock, which is free for 72 hours.

At the free dock in Bath, NC.

A real Southern meal

We stayed in Bath today because of another windy day and have taken a couple of nice walks in this tiny, historic town. We had a great lunch at the only eatery in town and had fried catfish and hush puppies. Wish I'd known they have fried okra. Maybe I didn't get offered that because the waitress knew we were Yankees.

Off tomorrow for Morehead/Beaufort, NC.