Post # 29: Waccamaw National Wildlife Refuge and Georgetown, SC

Saturday, October 31, 2020

We left Osprey Marina and headed down the winding Waccamaw River, often described as the most scenic part of the ICW.  The Spanish moss eerily draped the cypress trees and gnarled oaks, most appropriate for Halloween. 

 

 

The densely wooded backwater areas eventually gave way to vast wetlands and sandy banks as the river widened. Abandoned rice fields waved in the distance as far as the eye could see.  During the mid-1800’s, the city of Georgetown (third oldest city in South Carolina and our next stop) led the world in rice exports, according to our cruising guide. Taking advantage of the 4’ tidal range, fertile flat land, and forced slave labor, the area around the Sampit and Great Pee Dee Rivers fueled seemingly unlimited wealth for the plantation owners.  Their massive homes can still be seen in Georgetown’s historic district—which looks something like a movie set.

Our sights were set on purchasing fresh fish rather than rice or T-shirts, however. We’d learned of Independent Seafood from a number of cruisers and filled up our freezer with local shrimp, grouper, scallops and crab dip. Yum!!

Post #28: Respect Wild Animals

Part D: Friday, October 30, 2020 

The golf cart is on the pathway from our dock to the marina office. 

I have nothing more to say.

(David’s turn.....while Carol wasn’t fond of certain wildlife at this marina, it was incredibly protected from Zeta’s winds - which was the reason for choosing it. We heard stories of cruisers slightly north of us having winds in the 40-50 knot range, dragging anchors, sleepless nights, and torrential rains. While we had an occasional gust, we slept soundly each night.

So if we had to do it again, I would vote for the “alligator” marina over all the other options.)

Post #27: Osprey Marina

Part C: Thursday, October 29, 2020

One of our cruising guides describes the Osprey Marina this way.  “The family-oriented Osprey Marina, located at daybeacon “26” (Mile 373), has fuel, floating transient slips, pump-out service and a dockmaster’s building with showers, laundry, and a well-stocked ship store, all in a protected basin on the east side of the ICW.”  This is all true.

It is also in the middle of a swamp. As in stinky, black, muddy water. With fire ants, a cacophony of insects, and alligators.  Seriously. Two of them. “And one is really big,” the owner told us.

I am not getting off this boat to walk anywhere.  I would rather defrost the refrigerator and clean the head (i.e., the bathroom). Twice.

Post #26: Securite, Securite, Securite

Part B: Wednesday, October 28

Just in case we had not spent all that time looking at weather apps, Mother Nature sent us a message in no uncertain terms that with a “red sky in the morning; sailors take warning.”  Got it, Mom.

The early morning rays lit up the trees and marsh reeds along the shore:

This waterman and his friend were trying their luck at fishing with a net, casting it into the air so it spreads out then sinks into the water.  They hauled it back in together.

We passed another shrimping operation and got a closer view of their gear and nets.  And we were passed by a floating casino vessel—nowhere near as charming as the old-fashioned paddle wheelers frequented by Rhett Butler and his cronies.

As we got closer to Holden and Ocean Isle Beaches, more and more residential development took over. There were long colonies of oceanfront homes (many on stilts) and along canals dredged from the ICW (like you may have seen in Florida).  They look like they have great views, but no protection from the tropical storms and hurricanes of the Atlantic. I can’t help but wonder what insurance company would possibly underwrite these homes (or the “drystack” storage facility pictured below) and then my friend Liz reminded me that we all, as taxpayers, contribute to subsidize home flood insurance through FEMA. Something about all this just doesn’t make sense to me.

(The Atlantic is just on the other side of the water tower above.)

And then we heard it: “Securite, Securite, Securite.” “All stations. All stations. All stations.” “This is United States Coast Guard sector Charleston, NC.”... At xx:xx time the Coast Guard received notice that the swing bridge at the Soccastee River is closed due to mechanical problems until further notice.  All mariners are requested to transit the area with caution.” 

I quickly consulted the cruising guide and my paper charts to check whether the Osprey Marina was before or after the Soccastee Bridge. 

Rats. The bridge is at Mile Marker 371 and the marina at Mile Marker 373.  Not the answer we’d hoped for.

Now began the scramble to find a suitable marina that would provide protection from the storm, that could accommodate our length and draft, AND actually have an opening available. I had that sinking feeling in my stomach akin to learning that your flight’s been cancelled and you’re going to miss your connection. Ugh.

After an hour or so, I did find another marina as a back up plan in case the Soccastee wasn’t fixed by late afternoon. So we breathed a sigh of relief and enjoyed the changing scenery as we headed towards Myrtle Beach, SC, and beyond.

Huge condo complexes: 

Modest homes on the shore:

Not-so-modest homes on the shore:

Dockside Village shopping and dining area in North Myrtle Beach with free dockage although few people were there and no boats:

Gorgeous trees and untouched shoreline, including the one area so far where we have seen rocks.  In fact, it’s such a rare occurrence that there are warning signs! Can you imagine how many of these signs we’d need along the New England coast????

The radio cackled with reports that the Soccastee Bridge was open again. Yay! So I canceled our Plan B marina and we continued on.  The swamp foliage got denser and the houses even closer to the water level.  We’ll be glad to finally get to Osprey Marina and hole up for a few days.

I have missed the glorious fall colors of New England but this area was sure trying....

And one last photo simply because I like the reflection and colors.

Post #25: Preparing for “Weather”

Saturday, October 31, 2020

Happy Halloween!

We’ve been either traveling or had poor connectivity for days so I’m going to back up and try to catch you up on our adventures.

Part A: Tuesday, October 27

Tuesday was a short traveling day.  We needed to time our departure from Carolina Beach in order to take advantage of favorable currents (“fair” rather than “foul”) to get through Snow’s Cut and join the Cape Fear River.  At one point we were traveling at 9.1 knots! When these two bodies of water met, we could “read the water,” i.e., actually see the currents meet.

At almost 200 miles long, the Cape Fear stretches all the way to Greensboro.  It served as the major thoroughfare to inland North Carolina during Colonial times and control of it was a coveted prize for both Union and Confederate forces during the Civil War. Today the Army’s Military Ocean Terminal at Sunny Point claims 3 miles of riverfront.  It is the largest ammunitions port in the USA.

The Cape Fear is a blackwater river, defined as a slow-moving channel flowing through forested swamps or wetlands.  As vegetation decays, tannins leach into the water, making it darkly stained and resembling black tea.  Unfortunately for Onward, this means a nasty brown stain all along her white water line.  We’ll have plenty of scrubbing to do once we get to cleaner water.

As the river emptied into the Atlantic, we continued on the ICW to the peaceful town of Southport.  I like the sign on this waterside restaurant and bar:

We pulled into the Marina at St. James Plantation (a planned retirement community of 5,000 owners with 9 golf courses, clubhouses, pools, tennis courts, private beach facilities on the ocean, etc.—unlike anything we’ve seen before), a dredged rectangle of water surrounded by three story condominiums on all sides.  It seemed so calm and very protected but the dock master explained that they had lost electricity to half of their docks due to a tidal surge during Hurricane Isaias back in July. The water had washed over all the docks, breached the retaining wall in this photo and submerged the transformers (the brown box to the left of the flag pole)! It was a sobering reminder that we need to take weather forecasts seriously.

So we spent some time looking at Windy, the app we use every day to review predicted wind, wind gusts, wind direction, high and low pressure areas, and waves. (There are a number of other data sources we consult, including the National Weather Service, National Hurricane Service, Ayetides, etc.)  Here are three screenshots from Windy as we scrolled forward three days.  We’re near the white dot north of Charleston, SC.

Wednesday: winds of 8 kts

Thursday: winds of 36 kts

Friday: winds of 25 kts

We knew Hurricane Zeta was in the Gulf and was likely to travel northeast towards the Atlantic coast but we didn’t know exactly when and how it would affect us.  We looked for a “hurricane hole” along our projected route that would offer protection from strong winds and booked three nights at the Osprey Marina to wait out the storm.

We went to sleep feeling that we were prepared for Zeta.

Post #24: Wildlife on the ICW

Monday, October 26, 2020

Last night I read ahead a bit in the Waterway Guide for the Atlantic ICW because I knew we would be passing Camp Lejeune shortly after leaving Swansboro. Here’s the scoop:

“The ICW through Camp LeJeune is occasionally closed for artillery, small-weapons firing and beach-landing exercises...Prominent lighted signs stand at both ends of the range area. During firing exercises, these signs display flashing lights and red flags.  The signs direct boaters to tune to AM Radio 530 (gulp— do we even have an AM radio??) when flashing and indicate a ban on passing.   Manned stake-boats stand watch at each end to prevent ICW traffic from running into danger.”

Okay.  I knew there would be warships in Norfolk.  I was surprised by the fighter jets on the Alligator River. But I really am not looking forward to witnessing bombing practice. 

Fortunately, there were no flashing lights and red flags—just us, the fog, and the dive-bombing pelicans.  Oh, yeah, and warnings of unexploded ordnance on the islands and marshes either side of us.  We did see a couple abandoned water landing vehicles.  

As we continued along the channel, protected from the Atlantic only by thin barrier islands, we crossed a number of inlets where rivers flow right into the ocean and the salt water, in turn, flows back into the rivers. This movement of water produces shoaling sands and squirrelly currents and eddies, especially in strong winds and tides.  Knowlegeable locals enjoy shallow entrance to the ocean for fishing, spectacular vistas and secluded dunes.

The inlets also attract an abundance of bird life—great blue herons, great white herons, egrets, pelicans, cormorants and hundreds of gulls and terns. Dolphin also seem to frolic about near inlets although it’s difficult to catch them in a photo.  Of course the birds are there for the fish so there’s lots going on under the surface, too. It would be awesome to see what’s going on below us!

We even spied a life-sized giraffe!

The houses became larger and larger as we approached Wrightsville Beach, reminding me a bit of Long Island’s Manhasset back in September. 

As we got closer to Carolina Beach, I noticed this Aid to Navigation.  I couldn’t find it on any of our charts, though.  Hmmmmm....

We spent a quiet night right behind Carolina Beach.  It seemed that every square inch of land had a house on it. We look forward to a longer visit in the spring.  The white sandy beach is just on the other side of these houses.