The Four of Us. Out There. Again.

We started our journey down the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) on January 4, 2019.  This inland waterway runs for 3000 miles from Boston, Massachusetts down the Atlantic Coast of the US, to the Gulf of Mexico ending in Brownille, Texas. It's comprised of natural rivers, sounds and inlets, as well as man-made canals. It allows marine traffic to travel up and down the coast without going outside to face the challenges of coastal sailing.

John and I never really wanted to take this inland route south, as we prefer to be offshore sailing away from the hazards on land. However, given the circumstances with our location, time of year and the weather, it made the most sense to spend at least some of the time in The Ditch.

Leaving Beaufort

The ICW is popular with cruising boats as it offers marinas and other amenities along the way. We stayed in some marinas, but anchored out when we could find suitable places to drop our hook. Marinas are very pricey here, with catamarans often paying a premium for docking space. When it was time to find a hot shower or fill up with diesel, we splurged on a marina where we could get in and out easily. Several times, we paid more for a dock than for a nice hotel room. John kept wondering why the marina did not leave little chocolates on his pillow.

There was less nail-biting overall when it came to docking, and we all got used to our roles. One windy day I asked John about our plan for leaving the dock. He answered with, "We'll push off the dock, try not to hit anything, and chaos will ensue."

Cold morning on the ICW

Faster power boats can travel long distances in a day, but slower sailboats cannot do anymore than 50 miles a day on the ICW. There are several inlets where you can access the ocean and get out to the coast and sail, but if you are in the ICW, most of the time you are motoring during daylight hours. Some of these inlets are tricky due to tidal currents and shifting sand bars. 

At times the current was against us, and we motored at a walking speed. At other times, for instance down the Waccamaw River, we flew at over 8 knots as the currents from streams and creeks joined the flow to the sea. We never really figured out when we would get a push from the tidal current given the complicated network of creeks, rivers and inlets.

Motoring 8.37 knots!

For almost two weeks, we motored most days for 25 to 40 miles. Most of this time, the weather was very cold. Given that we had no heat, we just had to stay bundled while drinking and eating warm things. 

I wore two "buffs", a toque, a scarf and my winter coat hood to keep the cold north wind off my neck

Morning temp on January 11th in Myrtle Beach

Spending the day doing school in the library of the Holden Beach Town Hall to stay warm

Putting the kettle and porridge on in the mornings

The trip from Beaufort, North Carolina to Georgetown, South Carolina was beautiful. The scenic shoreline varied from wild, natural space, to wall-to-wall mansions with massive docks and extravagant gazebos. People were still making repairs from Hurricane Florence as we passed by.

Marina with boat four levels high in the "dry stacks"

Dusk on the ICW

We travelled under many bridges of various shapes and sizes. Sometimes we would get held up waiting for a swing or lift bridge to open.  Overall, the bridge operators were friendly and often chatty on the radio when I called them on the VHF radio.

One of the many bridges

Under a highway bridge in NC

Every once in awhile we would glimpse the big blue through one of the many inlets. We longed to get out into the ocean and back to sailing, but we felt better getting to know the boat in protected waters. Despite being a catamaran with a draft of four feet, we had to watch our depths and became more cautious after running aground one day at low tide. Thankfully, the tide was rising and were able to get off within an hour or so.

Having lunch in Carolina Beach on an unusually warm day

Carolina Beach

Hanging out for a day in this beach town 

While John and I did the navigating and steering, the kids spent most of their time in the salon where they completed their school assignments for the day. I would pop in and out with a lesson or to give assistance when necessary. However, some days were very cold, making it difficult to write without mittens. On these days, I gave the kids the day off and they stayed in bed listening to audio books.

I was astonished with the bird life on the ICW. Everywhere, there were herons, osprey, cranes and cormorants flying and fishing around us. As we got further south, white and brown pelicans mastered the skies with their awkward dives and hilarious fishing maneuvers. I could not get enough of these majestic creatures.

The skies were just as interesting to watch as the birds

Sailing down Cape Fear River

When we got to Georgetown, South Carolina, there was a break in the weather and the boats in the area were all heading to the outside, down the coast. We checked the forecast and found that there were going to be light northerlies; just the weather for making a quick trip to Florida and into warmer climes. Our plan was to sail for three days south to Jacksonville, Florida. 

It was early on January 14th, when we sailed down the Winyah Bay. We managed to get out the inlet with the tide and rode it into the North Atlantic. The view was monochromatic with seas and skies more than fifty shades of grey. We were the only blast of colour in our banana yellow foul weather gear. 

North Atlantic - off the coast of Georgia

I felt calmer being in deeper water with more room to maneuver than in the narrow channels of the ICW. We had seas of about three feet and 10 knots of wind from the north. Just enough to chill our bones. I had so many layers on, I had trouble climbing up and down the companionway. More than once we asked, "What are we doing the North Atlantic in January?"

John and I quickly found our rhythm in starting watches once we were underway. Our first hours at sea started with me feeding everyone, and then going to sleep for a few hours to stave off nausea.  The kids were tucked in bed with their audio books, venturing out when a sandwich or soup emerged from the galley.

We experimented with the sails in the light winds and found delight in sailing Wakataitea. We even got the spinnaker up and down without making a tangled mess.

Feel that speed!

There was a half moon on our first night, but we never saw it under the thick blanket of clouds. When I awoke to my first night watch in almost a year, I was disoriented by the blackness of the night. It's strange to feel like you're sailing into nothing. 

Around 3 am, I saw something ahead in the water on the port side. It was long and white; about the length of the boat, like a frothy wave. I scrambled to find a search light, but could not locate one. I could not take my eyes off this ghostly thing that was now alongside our boat, nor could I find my voice to call out to John.

I was distracted by sounds on the starboard side, so I rushed over to see what was happening. Several dolphins were swimming alongside the boat; their shimmering bodies  glowing streaks with the bio-luminescence. I looked beyond the dolphins on the starboard side. And then I saw it.

It was the length of the boat and very wide. It glowed with the bio-luminescence and undulated beside us.  As my heart beat wildly, it moved closer and then behind the boat in one shiny mass. Then, in a large circle of light, it disappeared with swirling blobs of glitter. It was indeed something alive and enormous.

I registered what I was seeing and found my voice. "John, you gotta see this! There are whales out here!!"

But by the time John got dressed and up on deck, they were gone. I reckon I saw at least one right whale as we were sailing through an area where they are present this time of year. 

On the second night, we were sailing along nicely. The moon was shining and the stars were twinkling. A perfect night to be outside freezing.  At about 0200, I was coming on watch, when the wind picked up. The sails became taut and our speed increased quickly.  A few things inside started banging and falling as the motion changed. I was grateful John decided to forfeit his sleep and stay up with me for what turned out to be a wild ride. 

As the kids were tucked in their beds, we sat outside with the northerly wind blowing at our backs. Wakataitea flew along at 8 or 9 knots and although there was more motion, it was still pretty comfortable. We hadn't felt warm for hours and there was little relief in going down below, so we shivered until dawn. It was an exhilarating and exhausting night. I have come to believe that ocean sailing is all about tolerating discomfort while being awestruck.

At dawn, the wind abated some and we looked for the sea buoy marking the entrance to Jacksonville harbour. Jacksonville or "Jax" is a large commercial port with lots of shipping traffic and a US Naval station. We left the coast and returned to the confines of the ICW.  

It was a great shakedown cruise to get us out there again.