Sat 12 May 2012
Anchored in Mile Hammock Bay, Camp Lejeune, NC

[photo: Someone's idea of lawn art near Surf City, NC]

With a light wind, it was an incredibly peaceful evening, and just cool enough to be comfortable but not chilly. That, and our morning coffee and cereal were just about all that was good for the day's start. When I went to haul the anchor with the newly installed and tested windlass switch, it worked fine for several pulses of the switch and then nothing. I was, admittedly, very dejected for a few moments, but decided to carry on using the manual handle, which is not the best thing for my sore back, but far better than hauling the rode by hand. With the anchor up several minutes later, I directed Diane to start heading out the channel.

When I returned to the helm, I looked at the markers and my chartplotter and elected to follow the same course I took inbound. That would have worked if the tide hadn't been about 5 feet lower. After briefly grounding, losing 1 minute in our (now) race to the bridge, which only opens on the hour, I resumed course and hailed the bridge tender. We were running a tad late and I thought if he just delayed a minute or two, we would make it. I had the throttle at 85% of full power, watching the temperature gauge, and then on the right side of the middle of the 30 foot wide channel, we ran hard aground.
I immediately hailed the bridge and said to let the other waiting boat go through and we would just have to catch the next opening an hour from now.

Diane was getting less and less happy at this point, with good justification. I should explain that in the absence of any guidance as to where deeper water lies, it is generally safe to assume it would be on the side where a marina has 50 foot boats tied up. We ran aground 20 feet from those boats. I managed to extricate us from this grounding after 5 minutes and decided to tie up temporarily at an empty marina dock just 100 yards from the bridge. A boater strolled by a few minutes later and when he learned of our grounding, he informed us that those 50 foot boats never seem to leave their docks, and opined that maybe if they did, the depth wouldn't be 4 feet at low tide right there.

We got through the bridge at 0900 and then had to be at the next bridge by 1000 for its opening. I used the "time to go" feature of the chartplotter to ensure that we got there in time and kept throttling back as we neared so that we were not circling for 10 minutes. The next challenge was to make the third bridge in 3 hours (at 1300), and this proved to be no problem; again, we adjusted speed as we neared in order to save fuel and avoid circling.

After the last opening bridge, the wind direction and strength was such that we could put out about 60% of the headsail and get about 0.3 knot advantage. There were times when the having the whole headsail unfurled would have worked great, but some of our slight turns took us too far into the wind, and a full sail would have flogged and been damaged. With a partially furled sail, we can sheet it tighter and avoid that.

Two notable things occurred while en route. First, my old deck shoes had worn to where they were dangerously slippery, so they went in the trash and Diane brought up three selections of newly-purchased shoes for me to choose. When I selected a pair that was apparently not of her liking, she started with her all-too-familiar line, "well, I thought you should use this pair." I assume this happens with all couples, and in most previous circumstances, I have replied in an exasperated tone (usually to my regret), "well, if you weren't going to give me a choice, why the heck did you even ask me?" This time, I realized she had endured a stressful morning, so I silently acquiesced. Later, we laughed as she brought up the fact that while I had said nothing, my facial expression said it all.

The second thing was when we were furling the sail at a sharp turn in the waterway and we wound up on the extreme left side. A fast runabout was approaching from the opposite direction and passed us starboard to starboard, rather than the normal port to port. It wasn't a "close call" at all, but we got very dirty looks from the captain and his mate, plus their son seemed to be shaking his fist at us. This made me laugh because...

The vast majority of boaters we have seen moving on these waters in the past several days have been small fishing type boats (20-26 feet), and almost without exception they come by in either direction at full speed only 20 feet from you. They appear heedless of their wakes' effects on other moving boats or the nearby docked boats. Yet, the perfectly acceptable, but not customary, event of passing starboard to starboard ticks this boater off! That reminds me of the many drivers I have encountered in my 7 years of commuting to work in FL; there are (usually older) people who obey the speed limit to a fault, yet think nothing of blocking the passing lane, failing to signal turns, pulling out in front of traffic without yielding, etc.

After 42 miles and 8 hours, we are anchored in a very peaceful anchorage (Mile Hammock Bay) where the marines from the surrounding Camp Lejeune have staged numerous exercises. We are not permitted ashore, of course, but there are no wakes here and life is good. I will likely have to haul the anchor manually in the morning, but that should not be a big problem. At this point, even though I know the old switch was bad, I am wondering if it could be the motor brushes. With an intermittent problem (defined by Webster's Dictionary: A problem which disappears when you test, but reappears when you need the device to work.), it will be difficult to diagnose further.

By the way, Duane's back is still very sore and mobility is an issue, but it is getting better and is certainly much better than those 2 excruciating days a short while back. Diane is doing very well, but has the typical bruises one gets on a boat and remarks that cruising can be exhausting, even when you don't think you are doing all that much.

Dinner was a simple affair, yet tasty after a long day's run. The anchorage remains very peaceful with just two other boats and we have just spent a long time relaxing in the cockpit while the sun sets behind a vast layer of stratus clouds.

It will be an early night to bed.