From Nassau, Bahamas, 12-11-2010

Well, friends and family, it's been a few weeks since our last blog. Much has happened. When we last wrote, we had just gotten to St. Augustine, Florida, on the way south to Miami. Sally's pain and leg weakness began to change in ways that were worrisome, not just in the hoped-for healing of the left leg. We decided together that she would fly home for medical consultation to try to find out what was going on. And, in order to try to preserve hopes that the cruise wasn't over, just in case Sally could return some time soon, we decided that our son, Derek, would fly down to Jacksonville and help Lynn keep the boat moving south. Derek and Emily, our youngest daughter, were planning to join the cruise in the Bahamas for the month of December at any rate. Emily stayed home to help Sally with her medical issues and to help take care of her while she is partially disabled.
So Sally flew home Sunday before Thanksgiving and was able to see her neurologist Tuesday morning. He was concerned enough to do further tests on Sally's lumbar nerves and both legs, so had her admitted to Long Island Jewish Hospital Thanksgiving Day. Pain medication was changed and the tests indicated that Sally had a very rare autoimmune response in the arteries of her lower spinal region that was impacting the nerves to both legs. This diagnosis means she will heal, but it will take a year or more. So, for the time, the cruise will be put on hold.
Derek flew south Friday after Thanksgiving. Lynn was able to use the marina car to pick him up at the Jacksonville airport. The next day, they headed out. The hope was to go out the St. Augustine inlet and sail south along the Florida coast, but heavy rains and strong southerly winds made this not an option, so we motor-sailed down the ICW. The first day got us to Daytona Beach, where we anchored out of the channel with a group of other south-bound sailboats. The next day, weather continuing to be rainy with winds from the south, we again motor-sailed to Cape Canaveral, where we went 6 miles to the east in order to take advantage of a favorable weather forecast for the next day and go out the Cape Canaveral inlet to sail "outside" in the ocean. Waking up at 6:oo the next morning we were greeted by heavy rains and continuing strong southerly winds, so we retraced our 6 miles back west to the ICW and continued to motor, this time just getting to Vero Beach Marina as night was falling. This marina consists mostly of moorings in a quiet, well-sheltered creek off to the left of the ICW. It was crowded, so we rafted up to another boat.
Early the next morning we set out again, in a lovely, sunny pre-dawn and continued motoring south. We were ahead of a group of sailboats and, largely thanks to using our large mainsail to advantage, pulled ahead and stayed there all day. Until we got to a series of bascule bridges, five of them, which insisted on waiting for all nearby boats to gather before opening. We figure the five bridges cost us about an hour getting into Lake Worth, where the only available anchorage for miles was to be found. We did, again, just get the hook down in Lake Worth before night fell. In spite of being at the north end of the lake, which is about 3 miles long, with the southerly blowing, the water was fairly quiet and we were able to sleep. The weather forecasts showed the weather pattern of the last four days finally breaking, the sky clearing and the wind veering around to the north, so we were finally able to motor out the Lake Worth Inlet and sail 50 nautical miles south. We were hoping for real boat speed to get to Miami, where Derek's friend, Seth was flying in that evening (Wednesday). But we were a little too slow, so pulled into Fort Lauderdale at the end of the day, found a marina where we tied up to the dock. Seth was able to get a shuttle from the airport and arrived at the boat later that night. Derek and Lynn walked over to a local restaurant and had a nice seafood dinner while waiting.
Next morning we were fortunate with the weather and went out the Fort Lauderdale inlet to sail the 25 miles to Miami. By the way, going "outside" from Lake Worth to Miami saved us waiting for 31 bascule bridges to open, about a third of them restricted, which means they only open on the hour or half hour. We figured it would have taken us about three more days to make the last two sailing days of this part of the trip if we had gone inside the ICW.
We got to Miami early in the afternoon, sailed into and through the harbor and south to Key Biscayne, where the cruising guides describe two good harbors for cruising sailboats to anchor while waiting to cross the Gulf Stream. We spent a day running around Miami, getting some vital supplies, including groceries. We got back to the boat quite tired out and found that the northerly winds which had been blowing too strongly to cross were forecast to slacken off that night and to blow from the northwest, then the west at only 6 knots. We debated this and decided to give it a try, just to get out east far enough to see what the Gulf Stream was doing. The forecast said it would only have 2 to 4 foot waves in 6 knots of wind. Up at 3 am, we motored carefully out the inlet south of Key Biscayne in the dark. It took about an hour to get to the western edge of the Gulf Stream, where we found waves a bit larger than forecast, but manageable, so we went on. We got the sails up and were having a good time sailing in waves to about 6 feet, winds in the low teens. These numbers increased a bit until we were speeding along in winds of 18 knots and waves 8 feet high, but the boat was handling it well, so the three adventurers felt good about it. The favorable winds continued until about 10:00 am and then slacked off quite a lot, so we motor-sailed the last hour and a half, sighted Bimini and motored into the harbor around 11:30. We did misjudge the sandbar at the entrance and touched down on the sandbar a few times in between small waves, but we quickly got back into deeper water and got into the harbor.

Bimini is a slim island running approximately north and south with a similarly slim harbor and several docks. We tied up at one just inside the harbor, Weech’s Bimini Dock, and checked into the Bahamas with the Customs Office nearby. This allowed us to take down our yellow quarantine flag and raise the courtesy Bahamas flag. Seth and Derek took a walk to the beach and Lynn took the dingy out for an exploration of the harbor. While exploring the harbor entrance and getting a better look at the sandbar that nearly trapped us, Lynn saw manta rays just under the surface. One wingtip broke the surface near a red buoy where the water was clear with a greenish tint and a sandy bottom about 15 feet deep. Several dark manta rays were swimming right there, under the dingy. Very cool to see them.

The next day, we set out about 9:00, not particularly early, aiming to sail halfway across the Great Bahamas Bank and anchor out in the open. We did this, but the wind again was stronger than expected, about 16 to 20 knots, so it wasn’t a quiet night, but a noisy, rolling and pitching one in which no one got much sleep. When we got up at first light to get going the next morning, we had broken our anchor snubber, a line that hooks onto the anchor chain and ties to a bow cleat to take the pressure of the anchor off the bow roller and anchor windlass of the boat. Without this snubber, several additional feet of chain and rope had pulled out around the windlass and our main anchor rope was chaffed (rubbed and damaged some). We sailed on, again in 18 to 20 knots of wind and arrived at Chubb Cay, the southernmost of the Berry Islands and a major stopping point for boats headed to and from Nassau or north to Freeport. We entered a very nice marina there and tied to a dock, sheltered from the wind and waves and glad of it. The marina hosts fishing tournaments several times a year, but at this time, it only had half a dozen other boats in it. That night the three of us had dinner in the only restaurant there and were the only three people in the restaurant. That was a bit odd, but the food was excellent.

The next day we went on, sailing in the still-strong NE winds, running downwind to the southeast, 35 miles to Nassau, the capital of the Bahamas. The harbor there is an open channel running west to east and is known for being busy and rolly, not so well protected, so we again tied up at a dock, this time one known as a cruiser’s haven, called in fact, Nassau Yacht Haven. We ate at a place called the Poop Deck, described as a famous sailor watering hole. After the isolated feel of Chubb Cay and the several days without talking to other sailors Lynn was ready for some company and salty talk, but the Poop Deck turned out to be a nice, quiet bar and restaurant with no one spouting sailing stories.

The next day was Wednesday, Seth’s day to fly home, but we had the morning to play with, so got a local fellow to tell us where some good snorkeling was and we piled into the dingy and headed east to Rose Island, about 4 miles east of Nassau Harbor. We did find some good reefs and had a very nice snorkel and got back in time to get Seth off to the airport. Then Lynn and Derek worked on getting on line for weather information and started making another anchor snubber, as well as finding some local expertise to repair the main anchor line. Next day, Thursday we finished these and other repair projects and went to the Atlantis Hotel to visit the aquarium, which was quite impressive and took the rest of the afternoon. On the walk back, we found some local street food vendors and bought some delicious snapper, conch and shrimp with plaintains and rice and peas.

Now, ready to move on we have had a cold front move into the area, which is forecast to give us stormy weather from now (Friday) through Tuesday. So we can’t go out with winds forecast to go over 30 knots and waves over 20 feet. No way. After exploring the options and finding storing the boat in the Bahamas not a good option, we plan to sail back to Florida and find a good, safe marina a bit north of Miami to leave Southern Belle. With the boat safe and sound we plan to fly back home to spend Christmas with Sally and Emily and to deal with Sally’s ongoing recovery. The cruise will have to wait until Sally is recovered and healthy. All of you who have followed or been a part of the travels of Sally, Lynn, Derek and Seth aboard Southern Belle, thank you for your friendship, your caring and concern. We hope to see you all again, as soon as we can. Fair winds and calm seas, Lynn and Sally Means

After the Alligator River

In the last installment we were in a marina just before the Alligator River swing bridge on 11-02-10. We left the next morning, a cold, overcast day, with another sailboat, Going Coastal. That day's travels took us the rest of the way south down Alligator River and into another canal, the Alligator River-Pungo River Canal and into the Pungo River. The other boat, Going Coastal went to a dock for the night, while we went south, down the Pungo River. The overcast got darker so we hung a left turn into Slade Creek, went about a mile in and anchored in almost total solitude with a line of trees to the west and north. The weather forecast for the next day was for strong north winds and rain all day, so we decided to stay put in this sheltered spot, warm and cozy, thanks again to our heating system. The day after the rain day, Friday, 11-05-10, another cloudy day, we motored and sailed down the broad Pungo River across Pamlico Sound into another canal and eventually into the Neuse River. There we bent east and then southwest and then west, rounding a large peninsula to get to the popular cruiser's haven, Oriental, NC. We got fuel there, in the process hitting our barbecue, which is mounted on the port stern rail, against a piling and breaking the mount off. All that kept the barbecue attached to the boat was a cord which Lynn always keeps tied and knotted around the rail when not using it. Obsessive, but a good thing in this circumstance. Anyway, we stayed in the marina one night and ate at the local marina's restaurant and were surprised by how awful the food was. Not edible.
The next morning, Saturday, we left Oriental and motored 23 miles south, assisted by a light NW breeze through a canal to Beaufort,(Bo fort) NC. Almost there, we took a wrong channel and went aground. We were lucky enough to motor off the shallow spot and got a local fellow on the radio to tell us which channel to take to get into the harbor safely. Which we promptly did, tying up to the Beaufort docks. We stayed here for two nights, doing some grocery shopping and getting one of our propane tanks 90% refilled. It was only 90% refilled because the place with the propane ran out of gas in their big tank right at that point. Beaufort was the most pleasant harbor town we'd been in since we left the Chesapeake and marked our emergence from the inland canals, rivers, sounds, swamps and forests to the ocean beaches. We met up again, unplanned, with Going Coastal, had dinner together and decided to travel together again. Paul and Suzie of Going Coastal had done the ICW a number of times before and had familiarity with the bridges, distances, anchorages and marinas. It has been really nice spending time with them and being able to share boat stories. Over dinner we decided to try to sail out the Beaufort Inlet and down the coast in the ocean 60 miles to an inlet at Beach. However, the next morning, when we did get out in the ocean, the wind and waves were too much on the nose to sail and, expecting a slow, uncomfortable day, we went back inside to the ICW and motor/sailed through the canals just inside the coastal barrier islands and marshes. We stayed in marinas (Village Harbor Marina and Barefoot Landing Marina) each night at the end of the day's travel, then anchored out one night in Minim Creek, a quiet, deep creek surrounded by marsh grasses. Southern Belle's anchor got a good grip, so we rafted up that night with Going Coastal and shared dinner. Later, in the middle of the night, a banging halyard got Lynn up to quiet it and the night sky, full of blazing stars, familiar constellations and the milky way made the shivering cold couple of minutes on deck well worth it.
Somewhere in there we crossed into South Carolina and sailed into Charleston and stayed on what we were informed is called "The Megadock". The regular name is the Charleston City Marina, but the outer dock, intended for large yachts is actually a large fraction of a mile long, about a third, I think. We stayed in Charleston for a day of sightseeing and shopped at the outdoor market and rode a mule-driven wagon, loaded with tourists, for an hour's tour of historic Charleston, mostly south of Broad (see Pay Conroy's recent novel of the same name). Lynn got a t-shirt with a list of things that are true about the South, like "mac and cheese is a vegetable."
We left, with our two boat convoy, on the 14th and motor-sailed 60 miles through canals and rivers, hoping to get through the Lady Island Swing Bridge at Beaufort (Bew-Ferd) before dark. We made it, thus avoiding problems getting it to open during the restricted morning rush hour the next (Monday) morning. The next morning we went down the river and out into the ocean to sail south to St. Catherine's Island, where we came back in the inlet and anchored behind St. C's Island in Walburg Creek, a totally quiet spot with trees to the east and marsh grasses to the west and some current running through with the ebb and flood of the tides. Our boats got too close together in the middle of the night, so Going Coastal re-anchored further away, not getting much sleep in the process.
Next day we set out for a short travel day, motoring through the winding canals and rivers of Georgia, mostly enormous plains of marsh grasses with a few, far-flung clumps of trees. The wind from the south was strong and rain was expected in the afternoon, so we hunted for a good spot with shelter to anchor, finally finding it in Duplin Creek. There was a set of power lines hanging about 36 feet high further up this creek, so we really didn't want to drag anchor toward this hazard. It made Lynn just a bit nervous, but the wind quieted down, no one dragged at all and it was a good night's sleep.
The next day, the 17th, we went out into the ocean again, trying to skip a stretch of Georgia known for sandbars and bridges and narrow channels. It was a good day to be out there, with calm seas and a good, West wind that sped us along until we came back into the inlet for Brunswick, GA, our last town in Georgia and the stopping place for our traveling friends. We did chores, changed engine oil, fixed the outboard (finally working again after Lynn threw out the old, watery gas and pulled the starter rope about 300 times). We felt that we'd learned a lot about how to manage travel on the ICW, so could go it on our own now. The day we left Brunswick, we went aground twice. Once the boat had the mainsail up and just spun around and sailed off the shallow all on its own. The second time Lynn didn't quite make the right turn and going over 7 knots, with sail up, went aground and stuck. We tried to motor off, but it was just stuck. So we called Boat US and put our unlimited towing insurance to work. Ate lunch while waiting on a nice blue sky day. The tow guy was friendly and great and had us off the bar in about 2 minutes and we were back on our way, leaving Georgia behind and sailing past Fernandino Beach to anchor behind Amelia Island in a nice side channel surrounded by marsh grasses. The entrance to this side channel had a shallow bar to watch out for and had a sailboat lying almost all the way over on its side, just as a cautionary note for us. That was a nice, peaceful night insofar as the anchorage was concerned, but Lynn, checking the boat before bed, found two inches of gritty sea water in the engine compartment, cleaned it out and spent much of the night worrying about how it got there and are we sinking and dying here or what? Conclusion: backing hard on the day's sandbar had forced jets of water from the propeller right through our propeller shaft seal inside the boat and just behind the engine compartment. Lynn watched the engine compartment frequently all the following day while motoring to St. Augustine and it remained entirely dry. Good! Keep the water outside the boat.

Norfolk Through North Carolina

After leaving the boat in Norfolk, Virginia, we drove back home to Long Island, visiting friends on the way. In the following two weeks, we visited family and celebrated Halloween and two birthdays, flew to San Francisco and drove north to Sonoma County to celebrate the wedding of one of Sally's longest-term friends, visited friends some more, visited Lynn's side of the family and flew back to New York Phew! We got back on board Southern Belle on Sunday, October 31st, Halloween and got a piece of candy each from a boat that was prepared for trick or treaters.

Monday, November 1st, we got up early and started south from Norfolk, which consists of following the Elizabeth River, going under a couple of bridges and turning right into the Dismal Swamp Canal. It was a cold, but bright, sunny day that warmed up quite a bit. We found ourselves in a pack of boats, about 10, going south in a canal that is about 50 feet wide. One of the other sailboats went aground and we managed to pull them off, the first of three times we tried to assist other boats in two days. Going through the DS Canal requires going through a lock at each end, the first one to go up 9 feet to match the elevation of the canal and the last one 22 miles later to drop 9 feet to the level of the Pasquotank River. After leaving the last lock we motored down the P River and anchored at Goat Island with three other boats, including our rescuees. That night it got very cold, giving us cause to be grateful for the heating system Sally had insisted we install as essential equipment. The next morning we got up before dawn, wearing our long johns, shirts, fleeces, long, warm ski socks, foul weather pants and jackets, just about anything warm we could put on. Oh, yeah, gloves too. We motored down the last few miles of the Pasquotank River, got to Elizabeth City and a bridge we had to wait for to be raised. Then we got out into a wider sound, heading south to cross Albemarle Sound to enter the north end of the Alligator River, so we got to sail for most of this day, with a following breeze.

As we were entering the Alligator River, still under sail, we spotted a boat gone aground on some shoals, which are reported to be shifting to the east so they lie partly across the channel. We lowered sail and motored in close enough to take a line from the captain, who had done an heroic job of dingying over to us in a breezy, wavy sea. We tried to pull them off, but were unsuccessful, despite two tries and we felt badly as we left them waiting for Boat US to show up. They were leaning over quite a bit and obviously hitting the bottom as the waves hit them. We stayed in a marina right next to the Alligator River Bridge, which has to swivel to let boats through. That night we found the snake and alligator you can see in the pictures next to this blog, where they had somehow gotten onto the swim platform on the back of Southern Belle. This is just to let some friends of our (who thought Lynn was fantasizing too much about dangers on this journey) know how right he was. There was a southern woman in the marina office/store/restaurant buying a 6 pack of ale who was talking about how there really are alligators in the Alligator River, but she seemed to be way underneath the influence, so her credibility rating is a bit questionable. Also, after dinner that night, we got involved in pulling really hard on some lines to pull a sailboat into a slip, against quite a bit of wind. So we tried 3 times in two days to help other boaters. It's probably not so surprising that Sally and Lynn, both therapists of some sort, would have this helping reflex, no questions asked.

As this has gone on quite a bit and is meant as a partial update, because we've been off the air for three weeks, we'll catch you up on further adventures in the canals and tidal marshes and forests of North Carolina soon. Stay tuned.