Kaimusailing

I am reminded of Willoughby Bay where the Navy practices helicopter tactics at any hour of the day or night. This however is our remote anchorage, maybe even illegal, on the edges of Camp Lejeune. The helicopters fly over and buzz Kaimu while I am trying to get some sleep. It is cold, down to 30, and I awaken again at 2 AM and take ibuprofen and benadril with Ritz crackers and p-nut butter and a glass of wine. This always puts me to sleep, until the ibuprofen wears off.
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I don't want to get out of the bunk in the morning because it's so cold, but I have to pee and then I start the Little Buddy propane heater and make an egg and cheese sandwich and a half liter of coffee which warms up the galley. Now I feel energized and ready to go out on deck and get underway. After a minute or two on deck I am back in the warmth of the galley. Well, it is earlier than when we started yesterday, so what's the rush.
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We are anchored in front of a swing bridge and I don't know their hours of operation. I hem and haw.
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A trawler comes up the ICW and I figure it will be simpler and vex the bridge operator less if we both go through the bridge together, so I soldier on and start the Suzuki and then start hoisting the anchor with the windlass. The windlass uses the same battery as the engine, so it is good to have the engine running when operating the windlass, plus it gives the engine a chance to warm up. The anchor is up.
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I can't pull forward because the trawler's right in front of me, I slowly swing around aiming at his stern, then power up to keep up with him toward the bridge. Then he slows down about 200 yards from the bridge and I slow down, keeping pace.
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The bridge has a clearance of 12 feet when it is not swung and I have already measured the highest point on Kaimu, the top of the Yamaha on the foredeck. It is even higher than the pilothouse. As for me, I can duck if I have to. So, we pass the trawler and put put under the bridge. I didn't even have to duck. On the other side I get us up to around 5 knots into a brutal cold wind and then retreat to the pilothouse where the heater is providing warmth.
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I have the cell phone plugged into the pilothouse cigarette lighter socket. I have Marine Navigator Lite running on the phone. It is a stand alone app that doesn't need actual cell phone coverage, it uses the phone's built in GPS and free downloaded marine charts from NOAA. It uses very little power and the cigarette socket charger keeps it fully charged. The phone does go dead from time to time, but it is a problem with this particular phone, I should get a replacement.
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There is a gale warning from now, all day tomorrow, and then lifting during the weekend. I can't imagine trying to go outside in the ocean. It is about 7 miles shorter, but the wind is from the NW and seas are described as 6 to 14 feet. Very rough. In the ICW it is not as bad. There is a wicked chop that shuts the propane heater down and the changes in wind make it impossible to use the autopilot. I try it from time to time but it always gets overwhelmed. A human can take dramatic action at the helm, I know when that patch of dark water gets here I got to steer into it. The autopilot isn't so aware, just of compass direction.
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So I am on my feet steering full time. Yesterday was 9 hours and I don't feel any bad effects today, but I do notice it is more annoying today than it was yesterday. I try stretching my leg and calf muscles, going up on tip toe, trying to keep those tired muscles from cramping. I find out that when I sit in the captain's chair in the pilothouse I can see through the opening into the dinette right through the dinette, right through the galley, and out the window in the front of the galley. I can see the bow of the boat and whatever is in that small area of view. I try to steady the boat and use that view to steer but there is too much side to side movement of the boat and I have to return to my stance at the helm.
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With the cell phone as my reference and a sunshiny day to see the ICW day marks it is easy to keep in the channel and negotiate some of the strange buoys. What happens is the waterway runs parallel to the coast and here and there are inlets that enter into the waterway or even cross it, like a four way stop. There are red and green buoys for the inlet and for the ICW and the inlets often dump silt and create zig zags in the ICW, so of course the Corps or Engineers put buoys to mark the channels and the markers are all in the same spot. Which ones are for the ICW and which ones are for the inlet? The confusion would be complete except for the little cell phone showing that I should just drive through and ignore the buoys. It's possible to actually run aground by following the buoys.
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I don't have any gauges for the Suzuki yet, but I could never get the gauges that came with the Yamaha to work, so I rely on the sound of the engine and the wake of the boat to get a feel for how much power to summon. We seem to be hitting adverse currents a lot. The inlets pour water into the ICW and also allow the tide to drain out, so as you come upon and inlet you might go up to 7 knots and then on the other side go down to 3.8 knots. Also there is watershed that pours into the ICW and causes a current. My calculations of fuel usage are impossible, the only calculation can be gallons per hour. It looks like the Suzuki is running at about a gallon per hour, which is good.
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I am glad when we get to what I think is Masonboro Inlet, because that is where I would have come into the ICW if I hadn't tried to sail into Beaufort. It is close to the end of this leg at Carolina Beach and as the sun gets lower I start figuring out our arrival. I remember the place closing at 6 last time I was here in September, so I phoned them. No, they are closing at 5 now, out of the season. I get the secret code for the bathrooms and laundry, and say I will be in touch with them in the morning.
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Now it is a race against sunset, don't want to dock in the dark. I risk running aground as I prepare dock lines at the starboard bow and stern. I don't know what the situation will be at the dock, there are strong currents there, and there will be no one to help tie up the boat. I go into the pilothouse to correct our course, then run out and get lines ready. Do we have enough fuel? I switch the fuel line from the main tank to the day tank, which has 3 gallons. Enough for 15 miles or so.
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The sun sets and I turn on the nav lights. The depth sounder which has worked perfectly when it was working comes on and off much like the cell phone. Chinese conspiracy? On the last run up to the marina, Joyner's Marina, I keep the pace on right up to the last buoy, then I kill the engine and let the boat glide, slowly turning to the left. There is a current running from left to right as I approach the dock. The old man said approach the dock at the speed you wish to hit it, and we slow almost to a stop. Give a little spurt, try to get as close as you can, then sprint like hell, go to the stern and throw the stern line onto the dock, run up to the bow and jump on the dock with the bowline. Tie it down, run down the dock and get the stern line before it is lost in the water. Tie the boat up and tie some spring lines to keep it fore and aft.
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I won't be going to showers tonight, it's into the bunk with the ibuprofen, etc.
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The photo is of a magical pink house that sat alone on the NC ICW with a pink lighthouse. I guess Hurricane Florence took away the light house. I noticed a lot of damage, some damaged boats, and damaged docks. Houses with blue tarps on part of their roofs. What other wreckage is there that we don't see.