Reflections of Day 2
20 June 2011 | The ICW Great Dismal Swamp Route
Sudzy
Capt Don got us up early but for a good day. We left the upscale Blue Water Marina and headed thru the Hampton boat yards. The ships being worked on in were huge. We were dwarfed by their size and majesty. How a fighter jet can land on the deck of an aircraft carrier takes on new proportion when you see it from 100 yards away. We have pictures of a stealth boat...very wild. Those tax dollars...more power to keeping our boys safe and dominant. Ok, so we float by Waterside in Norfolk near the entrance to the ICW and get ensnarled in the start of a sailing regatta. Ugh...what does don call them... wait... rag boats... love it. They are so in the way. We finally clear the start of the regatta and find the entrance to the ICW. So the journey finally begins. We travel down the waterway to the Dismal SWAMP. No, it,s not melancholy, dismal is another name for a swamp... a dismal... double entendre I guess. The entrance to the swamp begins with a lock. The lock opens at 10:30 but we arrive early and believe or not befriend a couple of guys on a ragboat... oh sorry, I guess if they’re friends I should be more courteous. No radio calls or cell phone calls alerted the tenders. Finally these wonderful southern gentlemen showed up and opened the lock gates. You hand your lines up 8 ft to them and the waters start to flood in. You sign your names on the wall of the lock for posterity. Mr. lock tender says, “That will be a $100 fine for writing on the wall… you better get your money’s worth.” As we stand there with mouths agape he breaks out in a belly gusting laugh. The lock raises you up to the swamp and off you go. A slow journey as it is a no wake zone. As if expecting snipers we were on alert for logs protruding above the water line waiting to take us down. Ok, so we ran over one stump that was hiding but no harm. Hot as hell but beautiful. The water churns up a coffee colored wake due to the tannic acid from the peat and rotted vegetation below the water. 25 miles later we finally exited what seemed like a hallucinogenic purgatory to the outward bound lock. So we find the deepest lock in say the US. He locks us in and lowers the water 8 ft or more to send us out of the swamp with Don Johnson leading us down the winding river. Oh wait, that was Don Hanzlik blowing down the river singing the theme song to himself. The contrast between the coffee wake and green film from the tree pollen was a remarkable contrast. Tonight we are in Elizabeth City at an eclectic marina with some interesting folks. Everyone has a story and during our journey we want to find those stories. Wine getting warm, ‘til tomorrow.