Wednesday, November 4, 2020
Today was intense in so many ways. Of course, we were anxiously checking our phones for updates on the election but we were also intently following the charts and apps trying to avoid those Fiery Tentacles of Hell again as we followed the Wappoo Creek from Charleston to the Stono River.
We did get a send off from a frolicsome bottlenose dolphin as we rounded the tip of Charleston, lined with sea captain’s homes.
As an aside, we were sailing back into Boston Harbor one fine day last June. On the VHF we heard a gentleman with a southern accent call, “Charleston Marina, Charleston Marina, this is motor vessel XXX. Come in please.” No answer. The captain tried again. Still no answer. Finally someone kindly helped the guy out, “You’ll have better luck if you hail Chaahlestown Marina. Charleston is in South Carolina.” Ever the southern gentleman, the captain replied, “Thank you, sir, for correcting my mistake. I’ll be sure to pronounce it Chaahlestown from now on.”
Seriously, though, people in the south are way more polite than we are in New England. We’ve heard (and said) more “thank yous” and “yes ma’ams” and “no sirs“ and “much obligeds” than ever before. We’ll try to bring some of this civility back to Boston in the spring.
When we entered the Wadmalaw River we soon came to Church Flats where the tides meet. It was indeed very flat. The name “Church Flats” derived from the practice of going to church on the flood tide and coming home on the ebb—usually roughly 6 hours apart. That must have been one long-winded preacher!
We passed by this secluded spot that, judging from the lone chair, must be some lucky individual’s treasured slice of heaven.
After transiting some really narrow and really shallow cuts, creeks and sloughs, we chose an anchorage just off the ICW channel and dropped the hook. We had not seen another boat for over 5 hours. Time to relax. And check those election returns again.
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