It's like cruising through a bathtub
26 May 2013 | 33 92.14'N:078 02.06'W
PMB
After a peaceful evening on the hook in Bull Creek…including a spectacular sunset…we awakened to a bright and beautiful sunrise in a cloudless sky. The morning weather was nippy, so our dress included a light jacket. We took some coffee on the aft deck, close to the water, and enjoyed the coming of a new day.
After about 15 minutes, we could hear the muffled sounds of a boat moving slowly through the water…and then it came into view: It was a father, or perhaps a grandfather, taking his son out to go fishing on Memorial Day weekend. With that, I fired up my iPad and worked through my daily routine with the news on Drudge Report, New York Times, USA Today, Reuters and the Wall Street Journal.
After getting the boat ship shape and reviewing our plans for the day on the ICW chart book, we raised the anchor, but not without some challenges. First, the anchor had dug in deep in the bottom of the creek, so I moved SOB over the anchor, gunned the engine, and dislodged the anchor. Some of the skills from sailing also apply to the world of power boating.
Then we had another problem. The windlass raised up the 150 feet of anchor line and chain without a problem, but when the anchor reached the bow sprit where it would ride until the next use, a shackle at the top of the anchor prevented its coming over the top of the roller. Mary Sue, who was managing the anchor raising on the deck, finally stuck a broom stick (used for washing the deck) under the anchor chain and, voilà, it worked.
Even with the delay, we were off by 0935, passing red navigation aid #48, headed for Southport, 74 miles away.
The first one-third of the trip was more spectacular scenery, dominated by Cypress trees and cypress swamplands.
At 1030 we stopped at Osprey Marina, a small operation well-known for cheap fuel, a welcoming and helpful staff and good ships store. It is actually a part of Myrtle Beach, but on the ICW side instead of the Atlantic side. We fueled up, pumped out, took on some fresh water, had several conversations with the dock boys and other boaters and then pushed off at 1120 to continue our trip.
The next two-thirds of the day were not very pleasant. Just north of the Osprey Marina, you move into areas with lots of homes – mostly large and imposing McMansions, many absolutely garish, built by people with too much money and too little good taste. Most have large boats on lifts on the ICW side of the home.
The real problem with the last two-thirds of the trip was the confluence of a holiday weekend, many people out with their children in power boats, racing up and down the ICW, and Ski Doos galore. They were everywhere, darting in and out, chasing waves made by the larger boats like moths chasing light bulbs in a dark room. It was like a bunch of kids playing in a bath tub, with waves everywhere and toys popping up where you would least expect them.
We tied up at the Southport Marina, just south of Wrightsville Beach, arriving about 1930, giving us a day with 74 miles.
The dock boy helped us tie up and then gave us some tips on the best restaurants in the seaside community. After he left, the owner of the vessel tied up next to us came over and said, "I heard him tell you about the waterfront restaurants, but let me tell you, one the best Italian restaurants on the East Coast is a place called Joseph's, up the road about five miles." We shot the bull for a while and then I said, "Are you on the payroll of Joseph's …or does your name end in a vowel?" He smiled and said, "My name is Palmisano, and I know good Italian food when I eat it."
Despite Palmisano's endorsement, we ended up walking 4-5 blocks to Fishy Fishy, the most popular restaurant on the waterfront. The food was terrific. Though we had to wait nearly 90 minutes for a table, we spent it at one of their bars where they were showing a NASCAR race on TV. Everyone around us was a NASCAR fan, so we had an immersion education experience on everything from the strategy to the maintenance details of NASCAR racing.
Once, many years ago, I was in Phoenix and had an extra day, so I took a one-day crash course (no pun intended) in how to drive a NASCAR racer. It involved about 4 hours of instruction and two hours behind the wheel, actually driving a NASCAR racer on a Phoenix raceway. We did a couple of timed laps, alone. Then we did a couple of timed slalom-like courses, again, driving alone. Then, as a finale, we raced in groups of three in cars that were "fixed" so they couldn't go over 80 mph. When I told this story to the guys at the NASCAR bar, we were immediately accepted to the club, and everyone eagerly answered all our questions about the tire changing, why they wipe off the front of the car at every stop, how they see what's behind them, etc., etc., etc.
We were so enjoying ourselves with our new friends that we ended up eating at the bar. A great evening at Fishy Fishy's.
When we finished, we left the restaurant only to find that the tide had come in. It was an unusually high tide. The area around the restaurant was entirely flooded so the owners had constructed raised walkways so people could get back to their cars or taxis or, to get back to the marina, for those living/staying at the marina, which included us. In order to by-pass all the flooded streets, we walked a couple of extra blocks to get back. But it was a great night on the ICW…altogether worth it.