February 2018
Norfolk Yacht and Country Club, March 1, 2018 |
Really, we must be crazy.
Who in their right minds leaves Norfolk, Virginia, in the winter time to
transit south on the east coast of the United States? Well, you know…we had wanted to be home for
Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hannukah, New Years, Birthdays and then still have
time to cruise the Caribbean before hurricane season. Who says we can’t have it all?
After arriving back to Rutea’s holiday home in Cobb’s Marina
next to Little Creek Navy Sub Base in early February, the first thing we needed
to make sure was working was the heater!
Icy winds blew in off of the Chesapeake as we readied Rutea to launch
back into the water. Living on the hard
is hard, but living on the hard in the winter time is even harder! Remember, you can’t use the head on the hard
and in freezing temps the climb down the 14 foot ladder and trek across the
boat yard in the middle of the night is a long and arduous journey!
Of course we were watching the weather the entire launch
process and knowing that March comes in like a lion we were prepared to watch
some heavy weather pass by. What we
didn’t know is that this year March not only came in like a lion, it would go
out like a lion as well. We were ready
to go, tired of being in a marina, tired of provisioning, tired of the ‘to do’
list, even more tired of the ‘to buy’ list so we had the bright idea of
departing even in not-so-perfect weather, avoid Cape Hatteras and the Atlantic
and head south down the Intra Coastal Waterway (ICW).
As we were anchoring in the Lafayette River outside of the
Norfolk Yacht Club our first night out, we heard the Coast Guard calling
freighters one by one, name by name. We
thought that very unusual as we had never heard the likes of that before so we
decided to ‘lurk’ or follow one of the conversations on the VHF radio. We were shocked to hear the Coast Guard
telling each freighter one by one, that they were ORDERED by the Commandant of
the Coast Guard to deploy storm-rated anchoring tackle as there was a major storm
system approaching. Now we knew that
there was heavy weather approaching and we were in a well protected anchorage
but we looked at each other and asked, ‘do we have storm-rated anchoring
equipment’? Neal decided to call the
Dock Master at the Yacht Club and render his opinion about the holding in the
anchorage and after talking with him, he told us he would prefer it if we came
into the yacht club until the storm passed and he would offer us a port of
refuge for hazardous conditions. Bless
his heart! It turned out to be a near
perfect storm, a real nor’easter which turned into a weather bomb for D.C., New
York, Boston and the New England coast.
Rutea took waves over the bow at the dock and after two days of winds up
to 40 knots was completely encrusted in salt.
Great Lock on the Virginia Cut |
Leaving a day or two after the blow and heading out past
mile marker 1 on the ICW what we realized after reading about it in the guide,
is what ‘wind-driven tides, depths and currents’ means. The ICW is notoriously shallow. It is perfect for power boats, shallow draft
sail boats and kayaks! The center of the
waterway is supposed to be dredged to ten feet but there is constant silting
and the Army Core of Engineers has run out of money to continue to dredge every
shoaling spot. On top of this, that
infamous nor’easter blew, literally blew water OUT of some places in the water
way and INTO other places. For example,
the locks on the Dismal Swamp route (inviting, eh?) were closed because of
water levels too high. On our Virginia
Cut route the lock was only operating at low tide or until enough water ebbed
out and when we arrived and called to the Locktender, he told us to just anchor
somewhere because he didn’t know how long it would be (Hours? Days?) until the
lock would reopen. Upon transiting the Great Lock, the Locktender told us that
the drop was five feet higher than usual and he didn’t know how long it would
take to get back to normal.
Surprise, surprise!
On the south side of the lock wind had blown water further south and all
depths were more shallow than charted.
That meant hand steering and watching every ripple in the water,
wondering if it was a shoal, a stump, or a rock. It also meant it was super
challenging to find a place to anchor our 6.5 ft. draft boat that was not in the
center of the waterway which you cannot anchor in even at night because there
is tug boat traffic. Next challenge-
Currituck Sound. Sounds are wide open,
shallow, swampy areas. Beautiful, remote
and wild even in the best of conditions a boater does not want to wander
outside of the water way or even pass another large vessel going the opposite
direction for fear of running aground in very soft, sticky mud. But who knew that a nor’easter could
literally blow water out of the Sound and make it even more shallow and that
the water could take months to return or at least not return before a southerly
wind would push it back in!
Frost on the Cap Rail |
Miles of meandering waterways took days and days to
transit. Of course having to time lift
bridges, swing bridges, and bascule bridges made the going even slower and by
the time we got to Georgetown, South Carolina, we had covered 410 miles and it
had taken us eighteen days. Okay, so
that’s 410 miles, 3 lift bridges, 7 bascule bridges, 9 swing bridges, 1 lock, 1
hard grounding (we don’t want to talk about it) and 28 fixed bridges (many of
which are only 65 feet tall and Rutea’s mast is 62 ft.). All in all, it was a fantastic but intense
experience. An experience we are glad we
had but probably would not want to repeat- at least in a deep draft boat. The surprising part is that inland waterway
traveling could be as challenging as any of the other sailing we have
done! The interesting part is that we
still learn something new every day.
Fortunately, even after 18 days in the ICW, Rutea does not wear the
brown beard on the bow and water line that stains most ICW boats due to the
muddy water but she earned an even better stripe which was once again getting
us safely to another port in another new (to us) part of the world, through unknown
waters.
Georgetown, South Carolina |
I had no idea it would be that much of an adventure. Glad you are all safe!
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