November 7 Morehead City to Swansboro 20 4 miles

We headed off in the ICW through Bogue Sound and this is hard work because the sound is so wide and the deep channel so narrow. I ran us into the sand at one point but we dropped the sail and backed off. Yes, I tried to sail, using the small jib only, which gave us an extra knot or two, but the strong gusty wind blew us off the course auto pilot was trying to steer; and with trimming the sail came the inattention that led to the grounding.  So no more sailing today. 

We were underway from 9:30 to 1:30. Most of the way was a few degrees north or south of due west. Ilene called the Coast Guard who told us that the live shelling at Camp Lejeune would end at noon, hours before our arrival, so we could anchor at Mile Hammock Bay. But just a half mile after we passed Swansboro, “Pipe Dream,” which has overtaken us, was coming back the other way and told us that the live firing would continue until 5, too late for us to arrive there. So we too did a “U” turn and anchored in Swansboro.

The pencil is pointing to the white spot to the right of the town, where we are anchored. In the lower left, just below the line "X---X", is a magenta line labelled "St M 230" (Statute Mile 230 since Norfolk), running perpendicular to the double dash bordered magenta line indicating the route of the ICW, which shows how crooked it is. And below the knife blade in the lower right corner it says Bogue Inlet, through which, in the photo below, we saw out to the Atlantic for the first time since Cape May, NJ.

We also saw the dramatic effect of the swift running tide. It was ebbing  and as we came to the Inlet our speed picked up to 6.6 knots, only to drop to 4.2 knots as soon as we passed the inlet when the same outgoing tide was running against us.

Here in Swansboro we  are one of eight boats and are on 80 feet of chain in 17 feet of water. The big factor here is the tide which caused us to face the other way when it changed. We happened to anchor next to “Island Time” and used our dink for the first time on this cruise – I’ve been out a month today! The town is quant but we failed to find a postcard though we did find this Gekko,

made from the steel top of a 55 gallon drum, at a gallery.














This house was built in 1778.

   Here were ashore, our heads framing ILENE.

Tomorrow is a long day to Wrightsville Beach, almost 47 miles. So its early to bed.

Read More..

May 25 26 Cape May to Atlantic Highlands to Our Home Mooring at City Island 115 and 34 6 Miles

Johns boats chartplotter, though the same brand, is different from the one installed on ILENE. John never got comfortable with mine: He asked "Dont you have pages and scroll between them [question mark]". "No John, but by hitting "display"and two other buttons you get the same effect." This put me in mind of my own discomfort in using the more advanced plotter on Pandora last fall, which was unfamiliar to me. Familiarity breeds comfort.
John and I had several debates during the day. He is more cautious and prevailed upon me to adopt the plan which appeared to be safer. I am not an autocratic captain. I welcome and listen to suggestions from others, especially knowledgeable sailors like John, and while responsible for making the final decisions (such as the passage around Cape May right off the beach), I frequently adopt the suggestions of others. I had plotted out the distance and figured that at the 6.5 knot planning speed, if we left Cape May at five in the afternoon, we would be leaving by daylight and arriving at a buoy off Sandy Hook, 109.8 miles away, in daylight at ten the next morning in time to catch the incoming tide through New York Harbor. RThis gave us plenty of time aftr sunrise in case we were going too fast, and we could always slow down by reducing sail. John listened carefully to the weather reports. They predicted stronger winds at night as compared to by day, though both from the south so they would be pushing us and not requiring us to beat. He said that if we motor sailed and could make eight knots and left at 5:30 in the morning, we could get in before dark at 8:30 to an anchorage behind Sandy Hook marking the southern entrance to New York Harbor. I agreed to this plan and we got underway at 5:30 AM for a daylight passage.
In fact, we did not anchor until sixteen hours later, at 9:30 PM, about an hour after dark, because of three factors: First the wind was too light, at first, to move us at quite a fast enough speed, even with the motor.  We were running away from the wind on almost a dead run, with the big ocean waves rolling the boat and shaking the wind out of the sails, reducing apparent wind speed. In fact we took down the main because it was useless and proceeded under only the small jib and motor. Second, all of a sudden the engine shut down and it took me about five minutes to switch from the tank of fuel we had been using to the other tank, locate the hand lever on the engine which is used to pump fuel to the engine, pump this lever 30 times and restart. That lever is small and in a wickedly devilish location: I can reach it but not see it and have to grope blindly around the starboard side of a very hot engine to find it. We could not be out of fuel in the first tank having filled it only two days before, so a bit of impurity in that tank, such as water, must have been shaken up by the rough seas to cause the problem. Third, about three PM, out of nowhere (though we were passing over big ocean roller waves), the propeller rattle reappeared suddenly, with a vengeance, and we cut the engine speed from 2700 rpms to 1500, which slowed us considerably. I immediately replaced the small jib with the genoa and with the wind picking up considerably, we got most of our speed back.
In the morning we saw this rig,

with a pipe floating on the water between the two vessels. This may have been an oil spill containment operation or dredging. Just dont cut between the two vessels! [An astute reader has advised that it is dredging  -- not to make the ocean deeper but to recover sand blown away by Hurricane Sandy to rebuild the beaches. Thanks for the input Jeff!]

I had studied a recommended anchorage off the Coast Guard Station on the west side of Sandy Hook near its northern tip. This was recommended for easy access, not far from the route between NYC and the Atlantic coast of NJ, except in westerly winds, which could build up a big fetch crossing Raritan and Sandy Hook Bays. John said, "Yes, but it is also exposed to southerly winds if they are as strong as 35 knots, which are predicted." So again I listened to the wisdom of my cautious crewmate and we traversed the three miles further south to the anchorage behind the seawall which runs EW along the southern coast of Sandy Hook Bay, protected from the southerly winds by the massive Atlantic Highlands. We had rigged up and tested the million candlepower flashlight to have it readily available if needed. Arriving at the seawall there was what appeared to be a large dredge in its entrance and we could not determine whether to try to pass north or south of it, so we anchored outside the seawall. This would have been foolish in northerly winds which would be trying to push us into the seawall, but the southerly winds made this an easy roomy anchorage. Seventy feet of snubbed chain in 13 feet of water. A sixteen hour day, followed by leftovers, which tasted even better a day later.
The next morning was the final passage of this winters cruise. We had a big leisurely breakfast and I gathered many of the things I planned to take home before a 9:30 departure. This departure was half an hour before planned and 2.5 before ideal, due to a mistake I made in reading the currents in Eldridges great tide book. I used data from Sheepshead Bay rather than from Sandy Hook,  and they differ. And we had up only the small jib and double reefed main in anticipation of heavy winds from the south in the crowded twisty upper harbor. But those winds had not arrived yet, the tide was adverse, and with low rpms, it took us three hours to get to the Battery.

 Along the way we saw West Bank lighthouse, one of several in New Yorks lower harbor, two massive DDGs departing from fleet week in the city, and a good looking Coast Guard Cutter.





A NYC fireboat was giving the Navy and Coast Guard vessels a full water cannon salute. We thought that we might benefit from this display as a welcome back but as soon as they passed, the Fireboat shut down and moved off.

The high speed ferry ripped past us, returning to Atlantic Highlands for another load of commuters to wall Street.

And of course the unmistakable skyline with the Freedom Tower towering above all the other skyscrapers from the background.

About then the flooding tide cut in, whooshing us up the East River and through Hellgate. Once past the Gate there was plenty of wind on a beam reach for the last half hour or so of glorious sailing to ILENEs mooring. We arrived at 2:30 and were off by 4:30 driving to our apartment in Johns car by six and a delicious dinner at a Greek restaurant in the neighborhood. Grilled octopus salad anyone? I love the fact that my longest cruise ever ended with such a terrific sail with the small sails giving us all the speed we could handle.

Cruising is great but Ah Home! Stay tuned, this blog will continue during the summer season and, God willing, beyond.

Read More..

October 26 and 27 Elizabeth City to Deep Point to Slade Creek 43 5 and 33 NM Respectively

From Eliz. City we got a late, 11 A.M. start, due to marketing.  It was mostly motoring but we put up the genoa three times for about half of the passage, once even turning off the motor. We arrived at the anchorage after the sun had set, but before it got dark. Our route was to continue down the Pasquotank River, traverse Albemarle Sound and go south (up) the Alligator River to a place off Deep Point which is deep enough to anchor, moderately protected from potential winds, outside the ICW channel and reachable before dark. The little white space to the left of the word "River" in the upper right quadrant of this chart segment hit the spot. It is 2/3 of a mile long and about 700 feet wide at its widest spot.

There are about 8 boats here. We are in 11 feet of water with 60 feet of chain out. We have a potential problem because when we tried to use reverse gear to set the anchor, we heard only strange sounds. So we laid out sixty feet of chain, which, with the weight of the anchor, held us in place all night in very gentle air. If we had dragged, there was a lot of room behind us toward the channel in which the anchor, hopefully would have caught. No internet access here. Dinner, card games (Lene almost always wins), reading and in the morning we emptied the aft compartment so I could take a look at the "no reverse gear" problem. I saw how, by disconnecting the end of the cable from the shift lever at the helm, one could manually shift the boat at the engine itself. And while we had access, I added distilled water to those of the cells of the batteries that looked like they could use a few sips.
Among the boats here were "Whisper," who we met in Elizabeth City, and their buddy boat "Piper."

In fact, two of the three adorable kids who played with Witty belong to Piper, not Whisper. We accompanied them most of the next day, toward Slade Creek through the Alligator-Pungo Canal and somewhat down the Pungo River, but they had elected to go elsewhere the second day.
The AP canal is quite a bit wider and almost twice as deep as the Great Dismal Swamp Canal.

Our only scary moment was crossing under the Wilkerson Bridge, near its southern end; unlike all the other fixed bridges over the ICW, which are 65 feet high, this one got short changed and is only 64 feet high -- and we are 63.5 feet high!

Slade Creek is wide and over a mile long. We got here first, at about 2:30 after a totally motoring day, and anchored in the first bend after entry, where the wind protection was good, in eight feet of water and were later joined by two other boats. There is lots of room here.

Then chores: I dove into the brownish, tannin dyed water and cut several lengths of line from around our propeller, but the boat still makes a chattering noise in reverse. We will get this checked out in Oriental, our next stop. (Also the harvesting of leaves in the Great Dismal Swamp Canal whacked our wind speed and direction instruments making them even more in need of calibration.)  I went up the mast to reattach the halyard for the Harlem Yacht Club burgee because the halyard had worn through in the strong winds in Yorktown, completed the wiring of our two million candlepower flashlight for finding buoys at night, hung a picture, fixed a cabinet and organized our cabinets. This last in the course of looking for the two white LED interior lights that we replaced with red ones to preserve night vision. Lene does not like living in a red light district. But we have not found the white ones yet.
The problem here is flies, lots of them. Lene killed about a hundred that had invaded ILENE. She is fully screened but they got in while we were underway and the companionway was open.
Also Alphie gave Lene a scare. She was missing, Lene was crying. I looked in both the aft end and the forward end of the stack pack tube that holds our mainsail when it is not in use. No Alphie. Finally I unzipped the top of the tube to raise this sail and there she was, in the middle, perturbed that her nap disturbed.

Read More..

October 25 Portsmouth VA to Elizabeth City NC 43 8 Nautical Miles

Today we traversed the Great Dismal Swamp, one of three inland routes between Norfolk and North Carolina. This is the westernmost route and most of it is a very straight and narrow (about 50 feetwide) canal

that is not very deep (about eight to ten feet).A new route to a new port.
One thing about it is easier. Normally I piece together many legs of a days journey, measure the length of each lag and add them together. But in the ditch, the charts show the mileposts from mile zero in Norfolk to over a thousand miles later in Florida. But these are in statute (land) miles and so one must take only 85 percent of them to get the nautical miles. Today we started half mile north of mile zero and Elizabeth City is at mile 51, leading to 43.8 nautical miles. And describing "legs" would have been difficult after we exited the canal proper into the Pasquatank River, which is nothing if not sinuous. Oops, upside down. Eliz. City is the black boxes (streets) toward the upper right, the old down town.

But this path is more challenging because there is no sailing allowed, and the road is so narrow, requiring constant attention as when driving a car. Also there are hazards above and below. Below are "deadheads" -- water soaked tree stumps that lay on the bottom and give us a thump when we hit them. We know they are there and that we will take a few hits (four today) but unlike coral heads in the Bahamas, they do not sink your boat. The peril above is tree branches that overhang the canal and get whacked by our mast (about three times today).

Here is some of the flora we harvested with our mast and shrouds, showing also the straightness of the canal, the diagonal to the lower left corner.

It was a long day, but warm at last and sunny, and windless. Normally we dont like windless days but no sailing is possible in the canals so no big loss. We got underway at seven in morning mist, and headed up the Elizabeth River to make it to the first lock, at the northern end of the swamp, at its 8:30 scheduled opening.


Here we are, all five boats, locked up together.

The lock business and the associated bridge took an hour and we timed the next 22 miles at five knots to arrive at the second and last lock for its 1:30 opening, and arrived in Elizabeth City at about 5 pm. A long, slow, ten hour day.
Yesterday we crossed paths with a mammoth container ship; today a more modest craft.

Eliz. City calls itself "The Harbor of Hospitality" and this billboard

is 50 feet from our slip. It proves this true by providing seventeen free guest docks, and we took one. In the morning, a man and his daughter offered us a ride, three miles, to the supermarket and Judy and Rich, who work for the Coast Guard, gave us a lift back. Yep, a friendly town. We are bow in. On the way in we looped our starboard stern line over a piling and  then ran forward to hand a bow line to one of the friendly volunteers who secured it to a piling near land on the port side. Easy, in the absence of wind. The other two lines loop around pilings off the other two corners and I added a spring line to keep us from crashing into the street ahead of us if there was a surge (but no surge tonight) and we were totally secure. Black line is starboard aft line and white is spring line.

The last step was loosening the starboard forward tether and tightening the port one to bring our bow above the short stubby dock so that we could climb down from the bowsprit onto it.

On arrival we took free shoreside showers

and had dinner ashore before returning for the evening. There was a very easy camraderie among the crews of the boats here, all enthusiastic about their similar but individual adventures. Next to us, separated only by our biggest fender, is a beautiful Shannon, "Whisper", whose three very young, very blond children came aboard to play with our crew. Witty was not really a happy camper in this, but he played along well enough. I missed the photo op.

Read More..

May 23 24 St Michaels to Chesapeake City to Cape May 68 9 and 68 Miles

The first day of this holiday weekend John and I got underway at 7:15 after I water taxied Lene and the felines in their carrier to Johns car and we raised and secured the dink. And we docked at 8 pm. But we were not actually underway the whole time. We detoured into Annapolis after passing about eighty boat flying spinnakers, racing the other way, headed from Annapolis to St. Michaels. We stopped in Back Bay to fill the fuel tanks, which took an estimated 90 minutes of in and out and waiting on line for the fuel dock with only about 15 of those minutes for the actual fueling.
Our second stop of the day was when we run into the mud trying to enter the harbor on the south side of the C and D Canal, where I had stayed in 2006 on ILENE and last fall on sister ship Pandora. We backed right off the mud and tried to call the marina by phone and VHF. Finally, the person said, "I dont know if you can make it in now, near low tide, but hug the seawall on the left side of the entrance." This was not very reassuring. We had noticed a long high fixed dock with two or three small power boats tied up to it and a busy restaurant on the other side of the canal, less than a quarter of a mile back- Scheafers. Not seeing any sailboats there, I called to ask about depth and they said they had 20 feet minimum at the dock, which our depth meter later confirmed. But they "had to charge us their holiday rate", $2.50 per foot. The restaurant and bar were large and jammed with revelers. We had dinner there and the food was OK.  It seems the place burned down about ten years ago and has recently reopened. It is so easy to get in and out that this will be a place Ill return to, even though they do not have water, electricity or wifi.
Why did it take so long, you might ask. Well the tides were against us all day. We went down the Miles River from St. Michaels against the flood which turned to ebb when we rounded Bloody Point to go north up the Bay. Six hours later this should have changed but then we were confronted by water flowing toward us from the Delaware. Well we have had all-day good tides too, but not today.
John was great help all day, a knowledgeable cautious seaman.

His 28 S2 sloop, "Hearts Content" passed its survey the day before with flying colors. "The best maintained 35 year old S2 I have ever surveyed" said the surveyor. She was Johns friend for the last 25 years, but he also has a 22 foot power boat, "Dixie," and he was not using the sloop and has found her a good home. Second happiest bittersweet day in a mans life: when he sells his boat.
Next morning we continued in the canal starting at 7:15 and found favorable tide. Belt and suspenders, do you think:

No, just an optical illusion with the arch further away and the pretty suspension bridge that Lene drove over the day before in the foreground.
Once in Delaware Bay, the tide was an even bigger help and we made over nine knots until noon. Delaware Bay is a wide boring passage except when freighters pass you by. See bow wake.

As the day wore on, the wind came up strongly, with about 35 knots and gusts to 45 showing on our meter, (though I sense that it reads about five knots too fast). So we had only the small jib and were beating down the Bay. The tricky part was rounding Cape May. The outer passage is a long way around some shoals, which would have added about the miles to our trip in rough weather toward the end of the day. The inner passage saves those miles but put ILENEs port side only about .2 miles from the beach with those big winds and the big waves they created trying to push her onto the beach. We had furled the small jib to gain control over safety for this part of the passage. John wanted the more cautious longer passage, as had part of my crew in 2006 when we did this in calmer weather. We have pictures of the beach with its lighthouse taken from this in close route on this blog in June 2012, on a rather calm day and had done the trip in the opposite direction last fall. Today we were too busy for pictures. it was a two person operation. John steered or to be more precise, controlled the autopilot and watched the waves. One of them sent a spray of water up over the boat soaking him completely. My job wasq operate the InavX on Lenes Ipad, while crouched in the companionway, to protect it from the spray and shade it from the sun. I directed, for example: "Turn right ten degrees." It was like instrument flight rules or sailing in thick fog. I directed our course from the electronic chart, around shoals charted as little as nine feet deep, keeping us in water at least 13 feet deep, without looking up to see where we actually were or where we were going. It was scary but we made it.
Once around the Cape, we turned more north toward the two stone seawalls that mark and protect the channel entrance into Cape May Harbor from the Atlantic. It seemed that we would be surfing down waves barreling directly into the harbor so I turned toward the beach for a practice run in that direction and ILENE seemed to handle it well. In the reality, however, the waves were at about a twenty degree angle from the channel and our passage between the seawalls was relatively easy. We anchored near the Coast Guard Station in about ten feet of water off the green side of the channel with sixty feet of snubbed chain. We were one of about six boats there, each far enough from the others and protected from the SW winds by the land mass of the Cape. John was a bit nauseous, though more from nerves than motion sickness, I think.
We were in by 5:30 and after a breather it was time for dinner. I have tried to get John to try foods that, while within his vegetarian practice, were different from his routine. Tonight we shared his food. I sauteed and steamed some veggies, fake chicken strips and onions, mixed them with whole wheat pasta and dressed it with soy sauce and grated cheese. Pretty good, and it better be because the leftovers is tomorrows dinner too.

Read More..

HYC Cruise Day 1 July 25 City island to Port Jefferson on Long Island 39 Miles

Every cruise  has some boats that try as they might, just cant make it for mechanical or personal reasons. This year, so far, it has been Paul and Mary on "Little Jumps", a victim of the press of business. I use to be a slave to the law so I know. We will miss you.

The day was warm and sunny; well you know, pretty much the same as back in Eastchester Bay.

Mark and Marsha of "Leeds the Way",  spent Friday night in Oyster Bay to make a shorter sail today. They got to the mooring field of the Seatauket YC in the 2 to 2:30 time frame. As did "True North" who motored from the Harlem.

ILENE, left the HYC mooring field at 7:30 in a dead calm and put up the main for almost the whole way and one or the other or parts of both headsails for most of the way -- after a bit of wind stirred the surface of the water. So we motor sailed almost the whole way. The problem was that the wind was from the east, where all the boats were heading. Motor sailing took us from Huntington, Long Island to Norwalk, CT and back across the Sound again to Port Jeff, arriving a bit after three.

And thats why Leeds the Way and ILENE were the only ones able to enjoy the wonderful cocktail party that True North hosted, starting at 5 pm.

PC Mark, Marcia, Lene, Diane and PC Bruce. Im the photographer and I kinda like the diagonal of the heads though this was purely accidental.

But we three were not the only Harlem boats here in Port Jeff. The rest just arrived too late for the party: PC Ernie and Camille and their guests, pc Marty and Ghenie, on "Blast", Dan and Mary Jane on " Tively II" and CJ and Jenny on "Shanghai" (who sailed with us and the Hermione on the Fourth of July).

Shanghai wins todays award for most intrepid sailing, not motor sailing but sailing. They had a long day.

Tomorrow, Leeds the Way and Tively IIs schedules require them to turn back but the armada is headed for a two night stay in Mattituck, LI. Unfortunately, ILENE will be there with them for only the second night. A funeral for a dear friends son means we will spend Sunday in a rental car, catching up with the fleet on Monday.

Read More..

HYC Cruise Day 16 August 9 Northport LI to City Island NY 25 6 Miles

It seemed that todays would be like the prior passage, with wind on the quarter. And so it was, except that the wind was lighter so we had the motor on the whole way, with the wind adding half a knot at times. We could have sailed without the engine, but at three knots for the 25.6 miles, well you can do the math. North Star left shortly before ILENEs 10:15 departure and Sangaris, shortly after we did. We hugged the LI sides green buoys while Sangaris gave them a very wide berth and pulled away from us. I did not see No News, but hope they too got home safely. The only excitement of the day was the radio chatter on VHF Channel 16 about a helicopter rescue from a boat that was taking on water near Sandy Hook. We got on our mooring at about 3:15.

The entire sixteen days was blessed with dry weather, except for a few sprinkles in port, at night.  And for the power boaters, the light winds were a boon, though not for sailors. still, we were spared stormy winds which in past cruises have persuaded some captains to avert from the itinerary for a day, waiting calmer weather. I recall one cruise when we all looked at the weather in Shelter Island, saw a hurricane coming and completely diverted from the plan to make for the hurricane hole of Hamburg Cove in the Connecticut River, just a bit north of Essex, where took a non-scheduled lay day while the storm roared. So we had great weather and good tides. Thanks again, Bruce, for planning such a good cruise.

All told, nine Harlem boats bearing eleven Harlem families participated in the cruise by boat for one or more days at the beginning, middle or end. An additional four Harlem families visited the cruise by land bringing the total to fifteen participating Harlem families. Of those fifteen, seven had a member who was a Past Commodore. (Not me, I hasten to add!). The PCs, who have so selflessly devoted themselves to our Club, seen to know something about the pleasures of cruising that some of the rest of us have not yet learned. Wait till next year!

Read More..

October 6 Oriental to Morehead City 19 5 Nautical Miles

We had to get our sea legs back. But while it was calm in Whittaker Creek, it was blowing hard, though probably not as hard as our new wind measuring instrument shows -- calibration needed -- once we left its shelter.  We could have beat the first five miles crossing the Neuse River, but after that is was mostly canal-like waterways with the wind strong in our faces from the southwest and we motored all the way and did not set a sail.  Approaching Morehead City/Beaufort a pod of perhaps 20 dolphins passed us, going upstream, in groups of two or three at a time, their black fins, and later their backs revealing them. Sorry I could not catch a picture; I was at the helm. This military assault landing vessel was going out Beaufort Inlet to the sea while we were approaching it from the north.

Our first stop was a fuel dock, which was tricky getting into, and back off from with all that wind, but we took on 45.8 gallons, our first refueling since Annapolis. I figure that since Yorktown, we have been burning .66 gallons per hour.
We had several choice anchorages picked out but with all this wind we took a spot on the dock of Sanitary Fish Market and Restaurant for $25 if you eat here.
We were joined for dinner there by Deb and Terry of "Island Time," a 42 foot Brewer cutter-rigged cruiser, the boat that is tied up behind us and enjoyed good conversation but sadly, very mediocre food.

They are from Midland Michigan and plan a five winter campaign to cover the Caribbean, all the way to Panama and the Central American coastal nations, leaving the boat for the summers. He was an engineer for a chemical company and she retired as a professor of biology.
           For tomorrow I planned two options. The first is to go out of Beaufort Inlet and back in at the Masonboro inlet near Wrightsville Beach. This is about 75 miles, but 69 of them a straight shot in the ocean, where we can go straight and fast. They predict 20 to 25 miles of wind from the NW, so it would be a speedy beam reach and close to shore so that the big seas will not have had a chance to build up and winds diminishing by five knots in the afternoon.  The alternative is a two day passage to Wrightsville Beach via the Intercoastal. The problem with this second alternative is the midpoint anchorage -- Mile Hammock Bay located in Camp Lejeune. Specifically, the Coast Guard is advising that the ICW will be closed tomorrow for military exercises involving firing live ammunition in the direction of Mile Hammock Bay. So the inside route may require us to spend another day here. A variation on plan B, mentioned by our new friends during dinner, would be to anchor at Swansboro, about ten miles short of Camp Lejeune with a rather longish run in the ICW the next day.  After dinner, while we walked four blocks to the postoffice and back Lene prevailed upon me to forego plan A for fear that even if we left at first light, we would have only 11.5 hours before it got dark, meaning that we would have to make 6.5 knots to get there before dark. Plan for the worst is her mantra. And Lene did not relish rising before daybreak and a rough passage and I like a happy crew. Lets check the weather again in the morning.

Read More..