Vero Deep Freeze 2010

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Vero Beach & Lake Worth, FL 2010

12/15/2010: Vero Beach to Hobe Sound – 47 nm

12/16/2010: Hobe Sound to Lake Worth Anchorage (West Palm Beach) – 15 nm

Total Miles This Trip: 736 nm

Thanksgiving Revisited: 11/21/2010

After a hoot of an evening at the Irish pub with Gigi's cousins Tom and Bill. G and I returned to the motel to crash and store up some energy for the 550 mile trip the next day to my Brother's house in Birmingham. Not long after we settled in I got a call. It was my son Noel with probably the most unexpected news I've had in the last 10 years. I'm going to be a “Grandfather!” Noel kept saying, “but it's early Dad, it's early so don't tell everyone just yet.” After he repeated it about a dozen times, Old Vic asked, “Just how early is it Noel - months, days ,or hours?” “Aw Dad, around a month,” was his response. Am I excited? – I slept little that night.

I don't know about you folk that are already grandparents but the possibility of being one brought on a sea of unexpected emotions. I can't quite explain the feeling. It is not just excitement but it is excitement surely. Not love. But it is that. Not a deep calm like a slick calm sea. But it is that too. I've not ever experienced a feeling like it even when Noel was born.

Richard Bode in one of his books said (or words to this affect), " Being a parent is like straddling the stream of life. You can see the future on the other bank but you are not across. When you become a grandparent you step completely across that stream to the other bank and you know you will continue into the future for one more generation.” Cool thought.

Due date: July 18^th, 2011

Vero Beach Deep Freeze: A Christmas Story

We spent 12 freezing days on a mooring ball in Vero Beach rafted to Buck and Vicki Dawkins. Freezing? Maybe not by your standards but for us it was cold – nights in the upper 20s to low 30s, days in the high 40s to 50s, winds 15 to 30 mph sucking what little heat we had out of the boat. Burrrr! And we had only 2 clay flower pots turned up side down on the propane cook stove for heat (thanks for reminding me of that old sailor's trick John). Actually it worked quite well, temperatures in the cabin would stay in the low 60s until bed time. But let me tell you typing is really a chore with gloves on.

One morning the “coffee alarm” in my brain went off as usual at 7ish and we were greeted by one of those “see your breath mornings.” I rolled out of bed and slid into my smart wool socks, long johns, 2-T shirts, under armor shirt, hooded sweat shirt, thick sweat pants, jacket and... a “bunny hat” in an attempt to stay warm . Then staggered into the galley and lit the stove for coffee water (flower pot on the spare burner for heat.. of course). I retired to the “reading room” to freeze my butt off when Gigi called from the galley. “Vic I think we are out of propane in tank No.1.”

I finished my “business” (no need to put on a jacket since it was already on) and eased out the companion way to the propane locker to switch tanks. When I pulled the male pigtail out the O ring that had been on the end was missing. “Gigi,” I said, “We got a problem and if we don't get it fixed there will be no heat and no way to cook. The tank and pigtail are now going to need a trip to a“Propane Store” - either for parts or to be fixed. I can't do this aboard.

Jobs that normally take “dirt-dwellers” half an hour to complete take on different proportions to us “carless” cruisers. First, Vero has the best bus service anywhere on the East coast and it's free. The problem is buses are “public transportation” and no propane tank can be transported in “public transportation.” Taxis? Nope, same deal, “public transportation.” The tank, pigtail and I dinked into the Marina office and threw ourselves on the mercy of the court. The Dockmaster said, “Como Oil and Propane could fix it” and looked up the phone number for me. Curtis at Como Oil said, “If you can get here by noon I can get the part you may need and fix it this afternoon.” First problem solved. One of the guys at the marina said, “Hell, I'll drive you over to Como, no problem.” Second problem solved.

Como was way across town. When I got there, no Curtis. The receptionist said, he should be back in 45 minutes. I waited. When Curtis arrived he walked straight up to old Vic and said, “Get your stuff and let's go back to the shop.” Curtis was a balding 60ish kind of man with a big toothy smile and a kind countenance. He took one look at the pigtail and tank and said, “Hell, you ain't got no problem. These new tanks are set up to handle a lot of different kinds of pigtails. That one you have will work just as well with or without an O ring. Here, let's put some propane in your tank and make sure it and the pigtail don't leak.” It didn't and he finished filling my tank.

“How you gonna get that damn thing back to the Marina?” Curtis asked. “I don't know yet...,” was the best answer I had. “Throw the tank in the back of my truck and I'll take you.” “Let me run in pay them for the propane and I be right with you...and thanks!,” a I turned to go inside. “Hell they don't need that $10. I'm just sorry you had ta wait. Let's go.” Curtis said with a grin and twinkle in his eye. With that he drove me back to the dingy dock. Back at the dock Curtis coated the pigtail with pipe “goop” so it would not leak and went on his way. Needless to say I tipped him well.

You would think the story would end here but it doesn't. Back aboard “Gigi's Island” I put everything back together, leak tested the system and found a leak. When I took the pigtail off with vice-grips pliers I must have put too much pressure on one of the fitting and probably warped it. Now I really do need a new pigtail. I called Curtis back at Como and asked if he had one. “I got one and have to be back over your way this afternoon. I'll bring ya one. I'll give you a call when I leave the shop.” And you know, when he delivered it he was sorry it cost so much, “ Ten dollars is just too much for these damn things.” as he “gooped” up the new pigtail fitting. I thanked him from my heart and again, tipped well. (not that Curtis expected a tip at all. He didn't he was that kind of man.).

I tell you this story for a reason. Little problems in the life of Cruisers can take on huge proportions. We live at the mercy, good will, and grace of others. In our world the “Curtises” are the norm. Time and time again when we are faced with a problems that seem insurmountable by some miracle a “Curtis” appears. We Cruisers are lucky people our “Thanksgivings and Christmases” don't come just once a year. We are reminded of the spirit of the holidays on a regular basis whenever a “Curtis” walks into our lives.

Lake Worth:

We are currently anchored in Lake Worth (West Palm Beach) and will leave tomorrow for Hollywood to spend a Christmas with Mac and Shirley. Buck and Vicki Dawkins will join us in Ft. Lauderdale after Christmas to stage for our crossing to the Bahamas.

Merry Christmas everyone and may the new year bring you many “Curtises.”

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic

PS – Gigi's “Trips” are doing fine.

Palm Coast, Hollywood, Orlando & Birmingham 2010

Fernandian Beach, FL to Vero Beach: 12/10/2010

11/9/2010: Fernandian Beach to Pine Island Anchorage – 42 nm.

11/10/2010: Pine Island to Palm Coast – 36 nm.

12/1/2010: Palm Coast to NASA Causeway Anchorage – 26nm.

12/2/2010: NASA Causeway to Melborne Bridge Anchorage – 29 nm.

12/3/2010: Melborne Bridge to Vero Beach Mooring Field – 30 nm.

Total Miles To Date: 665 nm

It's funny how “cruises” take on a life of their on - a theme if you will. This years seems to be “friends and family.”

The “Island” snaked her way through Matanzas Inlet's notorious shifting shallows and within the hour we were tied up nice and secure in Palm Coast Marina. It didn't take long for a cockpit party to develop. Gigi's cousin Tom Cook and his wife Olga showed up with a bottle of sangria and our friends Steve and Aggie Knox planted themselves in a corner of the cockpit with bread sticks. We added rum and cheese and it was time for a gam and catch up.

Steve and Aggie came bearing news. They were going to be “CLODS.” That's Cruisers, Living,

On, Dirt. They had bought a house and would no longer be liveaboard boat dwellers – a sad and glorious time one that will come to us all if we live long enough. It did not take long for Gigi, Olga, & Aggie to cloister themselves in a corner with “designs.” Olga had come with designs to paint the cowling of Gigi's new Yamaha 15 HP outboard to make it mo beautiful and less stealable. Which gave Tom and I the job of removing the Yamaha stickers on the cowling, sanding, and priming it so Olga could work her magic. God she did a beautiful job. Fellow cruisers now have “cowling” envy. I think Olga could go into business if she wanted to. A number of folk have asked us “what she charged?” Beautiful job Olga. Gigi says, “Thanks again!”

From Palm Coast we rented a car and started a life on the run. We headed south to Hollywood, Fl. to be with Mac and Shirley of last years “bitch wings” fame during her operation to remove a cancerous tumor. It did not go as expected. The surgeon decided to leave the tumor when they discovered more cancer on her liver. She is doing OK and will visit her doctors soon to see what the next step is. Keep Miss Shirley in your thoughts and prayers. You will note from the photo that not much keeps Miss Shirley down. Even in the hospital she was displaying “half bitch wings.”

Then Palm Coast to Orlando to attend Gigi's cousin Bill Hazlett's 50^th anniversary of his ordination as an Episcopal priest. Gigi treated everyone to dinner at Bill's favorite Irish pub, “Ragland Road.” It was sort of a mini-family reunion with Bill, Gigi, Tom and his wife Olga, and a friend of Bills, Robert (?) down from Vermont. The pub is an actual Irish pub brought over from Ireland and re-built just outside Disney World. The food was superb – ribs with Gennis sauce and killer bread puddin'. The entertainment was Irish to the core complete with Irish dancers and musicians. Bill knew them all and they all came by to congratulate him and meet his family and friends. He even has his own “chair” at the pub with his name on it - all and all a great evening.

We left the motel early the next day headed for an old fashioned family Thanksgiving gathering at my brother Richard's house in Birmingham. At 10:00 AM during the drive up Gigi got “THE CALL.” She was a grandmother times 3 – 2 boys with heads full of black hair and a little blond headed girl, all weighing in at a healthy almost 6 pounds apiece. Landry Hope, Gunner Christian, Dillon Brewester, and their mom, Kristen, are now home with their proud dad, Christian Perry, and are doing fine. There will be little sleep to be had in that family for few years. The “triplets” (now known as “Trips”) are in addition to 2 other children under the age of 4. “Trips?” “Trips!” Kind of appropriate don't you think? God help 'em!

On to Birmingham for a Copelan family gathering. We had not had been together as a family for Thanksgiving in probably 8 or 10 years. Richard and his wife Lynn had a house full with Lynn's daughter Kate and her new husband Tate Windham, her son Michael, Mr. Wiburn Stewart (Lynn's Dad) & his lady friend Pat Smith, Ronald (my middle brother), Noel (my son), and (of course) Gigi. It was a holiday filled with fine food (Richard & Lynn are good cooks), southern football (Auburn / Alabama of course), and the warmth of family. Add Gigi's news and this Thanksgiving will live in my memory for the rest of my life. I love my family and miss them when I'm cruising.

We returned to Palm Coast on Saturday to find our friends Bob and Penny Kingsberry on “Pretty Penny” and Buck,Vicki, and Magic (their pup) Dawkins on “Victoria Gaye.” had arrived. Bob and Penny immediately organized a second Thanksgiving dinner that could not be beat and another gam and catch up.

“Victoria Gaye” and “Gigi's Island” will travel in company for the foreseeable future. We left Palm Coast on the first of December and “froze” our way South to Vero Beach. The boats are currently in the mooring field rafted to each other with what feels like icicles hanging from the rigging. It has been in the 30s at night for almost 10 days now. Burrrrr! We are all ready for this cold spell to break. Life with no heat sucks. But we cruisers do what is required and have fun regardless of how much “mother nature” tries to block our path.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic

Beaufort, SC to Fernandina Beach,FL 2010

Beaufort, SC to Fernandina Beach, FL: October, 31 to November 7, 2010

10/31/2010: Beaufort, SC to Fernandian Beach, FL – 125 NM

Weimaraner Memories:

Beaufort, South Carolina is a picture of what a small town can do right with its heritage and resources. The water front is a park with many private area to sit, think, read, or watch the world go by. I has a grassy common area that is in constant use – kids playing, concerts, weddings, or just small family picnics. While we were there the green was a Halloween party for all the kids in the area complete with movie afterward (Capser the Friendly Ghost of course) and a wedding the following day. Beaufort is a town to explore on foot. The streets are shady, Spanish mossed, and tree lined with homes that go back to the Revolution. It is speckled with little parks complete with benches that reach out to those willing to slow down and enjoy a moment of solitude.

We spent a couple of days doing just that, enjoying the solitude of Beaufort. As we strolled along I looked up on one of the columned porches that are common to Beaufort and there “guarding” the home was a Weimaraner pup. I have a soft spot in my heart for Weimaraners. As the camera came up and I looked into those inquisitive yellow green eyes I am whisked back in time.

I am no longer 65 years old. I am a young man again and 33 years old. My son, Noel is 3ish. And we own one of the gentlest, friendliest Weimaraners in the world, Christina Von Storm Cloud Copelan (Christina for short) – She farted a lot thus the “Von Storm Cloud.” It is a Fall afternoon and I have just gotten home from work. Christina is on the front step of the house sleeping in the strong evening sun. Noel greets me at the back door. I scoop him up and give him a couple of tosses in the air. He shows me his “new shoes” and how he can “kick” leaves and make “swooshing and rattling” sounds. Like most little boys he likes the crisps staccato sounds the leaves make stirred by his little kicks.

My long legs and I walk out to the mailbox about 50 feet from the house leaving Noel to follow along in my wake. I can hear Noel's little kicks as he slowly follows in my footsteps. Then I hear a low quaking growl the kind mad dogs on the run make. I turn to see my neighbors 2 German Shepherds in full flight charging Noel. My heart goes to my throat, there is no way I will be able to get to Noel before the Shepherds but I start anyway knowing it is a futile attempt.

To this day I have no idea how she did it. Christina just “appeared” between Noel and the Shepherds. My little “Gray Ghost” commenced to take names and kick Shepherd butt. She left both of them a bloody mess and howling for home. This gentle, sweet, non-aggressive dog had saved my son's life.

As the camera came down I was old again and the Weimaraner pup on the porch turned over and went back to sleep sensing I was no threat. As I said, I have a soft spot in my heart for Weimaraners.

Off Shore to Fernandina Beach, FL

The trip offshore from Beaufort, SC to Fernandina Beach is 125 NM anchor to anchor in Bell River about a quarter mile off the Fernandina waterfront. The trip usually takes between 23 & 18 hours (it took 22 hours dead even this trip). Which means it requires an over night passage. The good thing is it saves us 100 miles of winding thru Georgia and about 4 to 5 days travel time.

Compared with the ICW offshore is usually a piece of cake. Granted the boat's moment can be a bit more tiring but you don't have to concentrate ever minute of every mile and running aground is pretty much out of the question unless you really do something stupid.

We outsmarted ourself this trip. We waited one more day for the weather to settle and the seas to drop – wrong choice. The Island hauled her anchor at 1:00 PM on Halloween and headed down the Beaufort River to Port Royal Sound and the open Atlantic. By the time we reached the sea buoy at the mouth of Port Royal it became real apparent that the damn “weather guessers” had missed it ...again. Instead of being 5-10 out of the West it was 15-20 Southwest and dead in our face for the next 95 miles. We were in for a bashing - hitting 3' chop square on the pointy end and slowing our progress to less than 3 knots at times.

Boats at sea are not quiet. Everything in the lockers rattle, shake, bang, and clunk (assuming you did a good job of “de-housing” if not add “fall” to the list and whatever you forgot is on the floor). If you are in a well found boat like Gigi's Island then it complains with loud thuds as the sea does her best stop the boat but she takes it all in stride. I've been in boats that are not so well built and they ring like a steel drum being hit by a 10 pound hammer. Even in the Island sleep under these conditions are pretty much out of the question. Turned out the wind finally did drop out on my watch at about 2:00 in the morning and finally worked its way West. The last 8 hours of the trip our speed increased to 6.5 knots and we rode easy over a slow rolling sea.

Sunrise at sea is always special. I don't care how many times I see one there is something about a fiery red sun shouldered up out of a dark sea that warms the soul and thrills the heart. By 11:00 AM on November 1^st the anchor was down in Bell River, two more States (South Carolina and Georgia) were behind us, and we had our anchor's down rum in our hand. An hour later we were both down for a nap..dead tired.

Outsmarted... Again!

We had planed to spend a few pleasant days anchored in Bell River, enjoy Fernandina and then move up to Cumberland Island for a few days before heading further South. Again we outsmarted ourselves. Wednesday a cold front moved thru the area, the temperature dropped into the high 30s at night, and the winds have been above 20 knots ever since....shit. Translation, we have been stuck on board for 3 going on 4 days and no HEAT. That's the bad news.

The good news is that the complete inclosure Gigi had build for the cockpit has given us a “solarium” to spend the day in. And Bell River has provided us with some entertainment. A pod of dolphin apparently live here complete mother and calf. It is fun just to watch them feed and play in the low Autumn sun, fishing the edge of the marsh, and doing head over tail cartwheels just for the pure heck of it.

Hopefully, tomorrow the wind will drop out and we will be able to venture into town again, get a HOT shower, and a meal that I don't have to cook. Then Tuesday head South for Palm Coast where we will hold up until after Thanksgiving, visiting with friends, and celebrating special events with family.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic

PS – No news on the triplet front. G's grandbabies are still in the “box” but it can't be much longer.

Southport to Beaufort, SC - 10/29/2010

Southport, NC to Beaufort, SC: October 17 – 27, 2010

• 10/19/2010 Southport, NC to Calabash, SC - 28 NM

• 10/20/2010 Calabash Creek to Myrtle Beach, SC – 10 NM

• 10/21/2010 Myrtle Beach, SC to Butler's Island, Waccamaw River, SC – 38 NM

• 10/22/2010 Butler's Island, SC to South Santee River, SC – 32 NM

• 10/23/2010 South Santee River, SC to Dewees Creek, SC – 31 NM

• 10/24/2010 Dewees Creek, SC to Charleston, SC – 13 NM

• 10/26/2010 Charleston, SC to Tom's Point Creek, SC – 37 NM

• 10/27/2010 Tom's Point Creek to Beaufort, SC – 37 NM

  • Total Miles: 330

Smugglers...We! Southport Revisited:

I need to backup...and this story takes a bit of twist and turn and needs a little explanation so bare with me. On the way down the Cape Fear River to Southport a crown came off one of my teeth so a trip to the dentist was mandatory. With the help of the dockmaster at Southport Marina and a couple of phone calls I was set up for a late visit on Monday to put the crown back where it belonged.

While waiting (there is always a wait) for the dentist I got to talking to Karen, the medical assistant manning the desk. She asked what I “did?” Being gainfully unemployed and fully “retarded” and sensing an opportunity for a story I told her, “I was a smuggler.” She gave me a confused look and took the bait.

Seven Seas Cruising Club for years has worked a deal with school book manufactures to collect their school book over runs and last years leftovers and distribute them to cruisers headed for the Bahamas. Us cruisers quietly “sneak” them past Bahamian Customs in guise of “ships stores.” Then ferry the contraband ashore in our dinghies into the open arms of the schoolmarms in the Exumas, Raggeds, or other “Out Islands.” Bahamian Customs charges a 40% import fee for goods, schoolbooks included, so we Cruiser not only save them the cost of the books but the import fee. This year Gigi's Island will have 8 boxes of books aboard bound for Black Point Settlement in the Exumas. So I guess that technically makes Gigi and I “Smugglers.” Karen laughed and about that time the dentist was ready for Old Vic.

After the crown was put in it's proper place and I was paying the bill Karen reached behind the desk and handed me a big bag of toothbrushes with a large toothbrush that is used to teach kids how to “brush” included all tied up with a bow – must have been a couple of 100 in the bag. She smiled and said, “Now I'm a “Smuggler” too. There are a lot of good people in this world.

October 19 – 27, 2010:

“Not all that wander are lost” JRR Tolkien

We eased our way down the last North Carolina steaches of the ICW. Through Lockwood's Folly. Through Shallotte Inlet and, for the last time, through the pontoon bridge that connects Sunset Beach to the mainland. Sunset Beach bridge will be a highrise in the spring. For those of you that want to see up close and personal what some of the stimulus money is doing you need only look to the ICW. During the Bush administration the ICW and it's infrastructure had been almost totally neglected.

Lock Folly and Shallotte Inlet were dreaded by all cruisers and almost impassable. To the point that the Corp of Engineers were thinking of giving up on Shallotte and pulling the marks. Today both inlets have been dredged and you almost never pass a bridge anywhere on the whole length of the ICW from Norfolk to Miami that is not undergoing some from of maintenance.

We spent the night anchored in Calabash Creek, SC, with one state behind us... but just barely. South Carolina is my favorite area of the Waterway (once past Myrtle Beach), but Myrtle Beach was special this year. We made a short run from Calabash to Barefoot Landing Marina in North Myrtle where Buddy Bulow, friend of mine from my previous life with NC DAQ, picked us up and took us to CAPCA (Carolina's Air Pollution Control Association's semi-annual meeting). I've always wanted to stop on my way down the Waterway and “smooze” with my old work life friends and today was the day. It was even better than I had hoped. A work life may have an end point but friends are forever... Forever.

Just South of Myrtle Beach is the Waccamaw River. The Waccamaw is an old, meandering, cypress, lined river. It is a beautiful river to run at this time of year. “Gigi's Island” feels like “African Queen” as she snakes her way through the cypress and lilly pad lined water. Life here has her own rhythm - it is old, it is slow, it is comfortable. Here even the “Island” feels the difference. She eases into a rhythmic Chug-a-lug-a-lug-a, Chug-a-lug-a-lug-a – a steady, strong, and confident feel. Like the River herself.

We anchor behind Butler Island with the island on one side and old abandon rice plantations on the other. Then settle in for a spectacular sunset and moonrise. The cypress that line the island's shore light up like torches of red and brilliant orange...and then the full moon rises with the sun's Autumn colors still splashing the trees.

The Waccamaw empties into Winyah Bay, a big open bay that leads to the ICW and the start of the “low country” of South Carolina – marsh as far as the eye can see with a spider web of life giving creeks and rivers that connect it to the Atlantic. We wind our way thru creeks and man made cuts over the next 2 days and anchor in Dewees Creek just north of Charleston, SC.

Dewees Creek is my favorite anchorage on the ICW. You are surrounded by a sea of grass deep in a salt marsh. Twice daily you rise and fall with the heartbeat of the tides. Dolphin fish the shoreline for their supper. Shore birds of all species wade the shallows in their constant search for food. Fishermen pass a leisurely day taking an occasional red drum or trout. There was even a professional photographer that shows up with a ladder to photograph the marsh as it catches fire at the dieing sun as it paints the saw grass with reds, oranges, and golds. I'm reminded of a quote from “Education of Little Tree.” Little Tree's Granddad would take him up on the ridge to watch the morning break clear on their mountain. He would always quietly, reverently, and in hushed tones say to Little Tree when the sun broke the ridge “She's coming alive.” The marsh does too afire with the splendor of the Fall.

Charleston is well...Charleston. We spend a couple of days at Charleston Maritime Center in the company of fellow cruisers including the “Liberty Clipper” out of Boston whose crew were having more fun than the law should allow.

Then we headed South again. Through Wappoo Creek and Elliott's Cut. Down the Stono River. Winding our way though a series of cuts, rivers and creeks with names like Toogoodoo, Steamboat, Dawho, Ashepoo, and Coosaw. This like most of lower South Carolina is an area of the low country that is remote and beautiful.

Speaking of beautiful places, we are currently at anchor in Beaufort, SC, waiting weather for our jump off shore to Fernandina Beach, FL.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic Copelan

PS – As most of you know Gigi's daughter-in-law, Kristen, is not so patiently waiting the birth of triplets – two boys and a girl. She has been in and out of the hospital for the last few days but is currently home..waiting. Due date? Any minute.

Away At Last - Oct. 18, 2010

Away: October 14 - 18, 2010

10/14/2010 Matthews Point to Cedar Ck, NC – 9.3 nm

10/15/2010 Cedar Ck to Mile Hammock's Bay, NC – 51 nm

10/16/2010 Mile Hammock's Bay to Wrightsville Beach, NC – 34 nm

10/17/2010 Wrightsville Beach to Southport, NC – 24 nm

Total Miles to Date: 118 nm

10/14/2010: Away

Between thunderstorms, we took in the dock lines on Gigi's Island at 10:57 and were officially underway...at last. After months of preparation, and months of stowing stuff in nooks and crannies, and months of moving stuff off Oconee ,and re-stowing it on the Island the boat was full to the bursting point and we were beyond ready.

I like to make the first day a short one and Cedar Creek is only 9 miles away and just the ticket. And today, it was not only the “ticket” it was a must. Just after we anchored a 30 knot squall hit dumping buckets of rain and enough wind to set our big Rocna anchor deep and secure. That anchor has never failed me and I sleep well at night because of it. After the storm the Island and her crew settled in, read, listened to a little music, and enjoyed our first “sumdowners” of the voyage.

Short days are a real treat...

10/15 – 16/2010: Cedar Ck./Mile Hammock's Bay/Wrightsville Beach:

Folk have asked me what it is like to travel down the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW)? Perhaps it is easer to tell you what it is not like. It is not like driving a car.

First, you are operating in three dimensions not two – depth is a key ingredient here. The ICW is well marked but not well maintained. Depths on the ICW are supposed to be maintained to a minimum depth of 12 feet. In this economy that almost never happens. Both Oconee and Gigi's Island draw 5.5 feet of water so the “prudent skipper” is always looking for water deep enough to float his boat and there are no clues except the depth sounder because the water is a murky brown/green. No we have not run aground yet but we have seen 6 inches under the keel. However, the trip ain't over and our time will come – some places on the ICW there is nothing for it but to wait for high tide.

Speaking of ICW marks... The aids to navigation can throw you a curve. ICW marks are unique. They are always red marks on the right hand side going South with green on the left. Normal rule for navigational marks is “Red on right coming in from sea.” For example: coming in an inlet or going up a river or creek the channel buoys are red on right and green left. So... you are calmly headed down the ICW and you come to a river or inlet. Guess what? The colors can switch and red is now on the left. Sort of like driving down the road and the rules change. Now you are supposed to drive on the left not the right side with the added benefit of being solidly aground in a NY minute. How does one tell the difference between ICW and regular marks one might ask? Little yellow squares and triangles painted on the marks...and careful attention to your charts.

All this to say it “ain't like driving a car” and you never ever can just “drive.” Attention is require 100% of the time. Thus...short days and sundowners are good. Especially the sundowners!

Houses: Mile Hammocks Bay to Carolina Beach

I've ran this section of water on the ICW from Mile Hammocks Bay to Carolina Beach many times now and am always struck by the diversity of homes on this stretch of water. If you like houses this is your section. There are stately houses with lawns and columns to match, tall houses, squat houses, thin houses, pourched houses, ones with widow's walks, old houses, new houses, ostentatious houses, gaudy houses, beachy houses, clapboarded houses, and shabby houses, green ones, brown ones, pink ones (Gigi likes pink ones), every color of the rainbow ones and yes, just plain butt ugly ones. There are even some ordinary ones but not “ordinary” (read cheap) enough for me to own.

The thing about the ICW is it is almost never a bore if you open your eyes and heart and enjoy the ride. Around every bend in the channel is something new to enjoy and see. Every year it is just a little different and a lot of fun.

We are currently in Southport, NC and will be headed out of here tomorrow morning for Calabash Ck, NC, and then on to Mrytle Beach, SC. I used to belong to CAPCA (Carolina's Air Pollution Control Association) back another life. Every year they meet once in Asheville and once in Myrtle Beach. I've always wanted to stop by on my way South and “smooze” with my old friends. This year is the year.

Fairwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic Copelan

Snowbirds 2010

Snowbirds: 9/26/2010 - Matthews Point Marina, Mitchell Creek, NC

The days are warm and the mornings break clean, clear, and cool with “smoke” drifting just above the surface of the water. There is a crispness in the air that signals fall. The hurricane season draws to a close and their Atlantic threat diminishes. Flocks of boat tail grackle swirl and spiral silhouetted in front of the full moon before going to roost for the night in the trees along the edges of Mitchell Creek. Schools of mullet fill the creek and crater the smooth dark waters chased by some unseen predator from below. And “snowbirds” like myself get itchy feet and prepare to take flight – it is almost time to go.

The bright crisp mornings stir a flurry of activity among us “island gypsies.” Ships stores go aboard by the cart load. Spare parts lists are checked and re-check. Last minute projects are tidied up - the lists grow shorter. We pore over charts as we look with longing to favorite anchorages and harbors. Slowly, quietly, sadly, we say our private goodbys to land based friends over drinks in the cockpit or dinners aboard or ashore. Slowly, quietly, joyously, our hearts turn toward the cruising friends new and old we will meet again for the first time in the months to come. Points south dominate our minds and hearts – points South, ever South. The sad glorious date of departure draws near. The docklines have not been cut but the voyage has already begun in our hearts.

This year we will be in “Gigi's Island” not my beloved “Oconee.” “Oconee” will wait patiently here at Matthews Point for my return in the spring. She has 9 months - plenty of time to plot her “revenge” for leaving her behind.

Fairwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic Copelan

Headed Home!

 

 

 

 

Headed Home!

On Monday 3, 2010, Oconee will officially start her voyage back to the good old US of A. Our plans are to leave Sampson Cay tomorrow morning and anchor off Highborne Cay for the night. Then on to Nassau on Tuesday. Fuel up and cross the banks on Wednesday night. Then ride the Gulf Stream North to Cape Canaveral. With fairwinds and a little luck we should clear in country on Friday morning.

The photos are from the Family Island Regatta at Georgetown, Exuma. There are 3 classes of boat A, B, & C with A being the largest at 28'. The rules are simple. You pass a boat you get 1 point. You hit a mark they take away 1 point. Hit another boat (or a race official) they take 2 points away. The boat with the most point at the end of 3 days of races wins.

These guys are aggressive as you will see from the posted photos. One of the photos shows just a mast sticking out of the water. The boats are so over canvased that they can and do simply drive the boat under. This particular boat's crew was too hung over to race so a pickup crew (read inexperienced and slow to react) literally drove the boat thru their own bow wake and down she went. They towed her back to the dock. Cruisers helped remove the lead, re-floated the boat, and they were back in business.

Fairwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic