We arrived in Lake Worth, Florida on the 1st
May. The anchorage was pleasant enough,
though not of our usual preference, and we worked out where we could go ashore
for shopping, etc. but we wanted to make progress up the coast so, when an
opportunity arose 2 days later, we took it.
We left our anchorage mid afternoon on the 3rd and headed out
into a NE’ly F3. Theoretically, this
should have veered round a couple of hours later, to enable us to head back out
into the Gulf Stream on the starboard tack.
As on our previous passage, however, it stayed resolutely from the
direction that would allow us to either parallel the coast or head at right
angles to it. Not wishing to repeat a
mistake, we continued on the port tack and, even though our heading was south
of east, within 5 miles we were tracking well north of it. By 22:00, we were in the core of the stream
and tacked round with over 3 knots of push.
The wind looked like it was going to be favourable to take us all the way
to Beaufort, North Carolina, which would put us within a few miles of our
target of 35 North, required for insurance cover after 1st
June. The only problem was an area of
forecast thunderstorms, which might overtake us before arrival. We watched this carefully and, as we
approached the point where the Gulf Stream makes a right-angle bend to the
East, made the decision to continue in a straight line and head for Charleston,
South Carolina. We arrived here, with an hour to spare before sunset on the evening
of the 5th. Even with some
very light winds, this was our fastest ever passage, making 370 miles in 49
hours giving a speed over the ground of 7.7 knots. Elsie’s morning watch on the 5th
achieved 61 miles in 6 hours all in calm seas.
If only all sailing were like this!
We motor sailed up the entrance channel, or more exactly, just outside it as it is very busy with large cargo ships, and dropped the
anchor off Fort Johnson. We stayed here
overnight and then motored the couple of miles to a busier spot, opposite the
municipal marina. Expecting it to be
fairly busy, I deliberately chose to make the move on the ebb, so that I could
see how everyone else was lying.
Unexpectedly, there was a large clear spot and we were able to anchor
with the nearest yacht 25 metres astern but well to one side and a smaller one
15 metres further, directly astern of us.
Dinghy launched and off for a good walk, shop and Uber back to the
dinghy dock. By now the current had
changed to the flood. As we motored back to Ruby, I couldn’t see the small
yacht, which should now be about 40 metres ahead of us. Horror – as we approached, we saw that it was
actually alongside and, with a poorly maintained rubbing strake, taking large
chunks out of our gel coat. Her anchor
rope was underneath Ruby. Not wishing to
cut this with our very efficient rope cutter, I just used our rudder to swing
us back and forth. The first attempt was
unsuccessful and, as we had towing insurance, I called for a tug. After several further attempts, we managed
to separate and we heaved up the anchor.
As it broke surface, we could see that we were fouling the other yachts
anchor rope, but managed to drop this without too much difficulty. We decided to move back to our previous
anchorage but, as we started to manoeuvre, there was a large vibration from the
propeller. As we were drifting clear of
other boats, we re-anchored, waited for the tug, and got him to tow us
there. We managed to get the number for
local divers and they agreed to come out early the next morning.
The diver found nothing, apart from a slightly loose anode
on the saildrive, which was tightened. A
quick engine run showed no significant vibration, so we considered job
done. We dinghied ashore and had a
pleasant walk along the shore and back through the centre of town. Nagging doubts remained, however and on
Friday, we picked up anchor for more engine trials. This time, the vibration was much worse. Had the anode broken loose and was it
flapping around? It seemed unlikely that
it would cause so much of a problem but I called the divers again. They couldn’t come back until Monday
morning. We spent the weekend doing not
very much, although I did go for a 6 mile round trip walk to a hardware store
for some bits and pieces. Elsie, meanwhile,
had cut up a large slice of water melon and marinated it in rum. This made a delicious, though rather potent,
substitution for ice cubes in our sun-downers.
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| Sun-downers with added kick |
While waiting for the diver on Monday morning, I contacted a
boatyard and made arrangements for a further tow to take us there. This was a good precaution as the diver found
nothing further. She removed the anode,
on the unlikely possibility that it was the cause of vibrations, but no. So, it was a 12 mile tow past Charleston and
up the Wando river to the City Boatyard.
We would not be permitted to stay on board, while Ruby was out of the
water and we checked that hotels were operating. They were unable to lift us that afternoon,
so we stayed on board that night, making a provisional Airbnb reservation for
the following night.
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| The prop shouldn't look like this. |
As soon as we were lifted on Tuesday morning, the problem
was obvious. The two blades of the
folding propeller were at different angles to the hub. Closer inspection showed that one of the
teeth which should keep them synchronised had been sheered off, possibly by
excessive lateral force from the other yacht’s anchor rope. While the boatyard is far from cheap, the
staff proved their worth by tracking down a replacement propeller
(unfortunately in Sweden) and getting estimates for this and repairs to the gel
coat. Since we were obviously not going
anywhere for a while, we confirmed our Airbnb and booked for a week. It was a 2 mile walk, mostly along a busy
highway, but it gave us some exercise.
On Wednesday, I returned to the boatyard, to do some hull cleaning and
arrange some other jobs. Elsie walked
the other direction for some shopping. Unfortunately, finding the propeller was the high point of
the yard’s efficiency and I spent the next week project managing. Constant driving meant that we were ready to
launch the following Thursday (even though I had to fit the new propeller
myself – management had forgotten that the engineer had a day off). Back in the water at 16:00, away at 17:30 and
back at anchor at Charleston at 20:00.
We needed to do this as the last weather window to proceed east for at
least 10 days was closing the following morning. It was not going to be great sailing but, if
we didn’t go, we would either be stuck where we were or have to motor up the
ICW.
An early rise on Friday 22nd saw the anchor up at
06:00. We had following winds most of
the way to Charleston but they were light and, to avoid running into
head-winds, we had to motor sail a lot of the way but it was better than going
up ‘the ditch’. We were not alone in
this judgement as we saw at least half a dozen other yachts following the same
path. There was a choice of anchorages
on arrival. We could enter the river and
stop opposite the coastguard station, which is safe but not scenic and gets a
lot of passing traffic or continue another 5 miles to Cape Lookout Bight, which
is a large, almost totally enclosed lagoon.
We had been here a couple of times before and there were usually a
couple of other boats but there were deserted beaches and plenty of room. There was no immediate hurry to move on, so
we opted for the latter. As we
approached, on Saturday evening, Elsie called that she could see some masts
already there. ‘I can see six, no,
eight’, ‘more’. In fact, as we rounded
the spit, I counted 34 sailing boats and 8 motor yachts, not to mention a
couple of shrimp boats. Some of the
yachts were those we had travelled with; some were flying the ‘Q’ flag, so had
presumably just arrived from the Caribbean but most were locals. We had omitted the Memorial Day public holiday
from our calculations. Never mind, there
was plenty of room and we found a surprisingly large space to anchor,
celebrating our arrival with ‘Dark and Stormy’ rum and gingers.
On Sunday morning, at 07:00, we discovered the reason for
our large space: we were on a direct line between the entrance and the markers
for Barden Inlet, a popular fishing area, and the locals, in their speedy boats
were heading for it, seemingly at 20 second intervals and doing 30 knots. We rose, picked up and moved out of the
firing line, which reduced traffic a bit but there were still a few close
passers-by. As the day progressed, the
picnickers arrived and the beach was fringed with dozens of motor boats
disgorging the hoards. We elected to
stay on board. Although Monday was
Memorial Day, it seemed that the shops would be open, so we headed into Homer
Smith docks, catching the morning tide and tying up at 11:00. There is a courtesy car but it was busy, so
we walked the mile-and-a-half to the Piggly Wiggly supermarket for a few
supplies, returning for lunch. Later in the afternoon, our wonderful OCC port
officer, Dianne, visited, bearing her usual gift of peanuts and we arranged
that she would pick us up in the morning to take us to breakfast at a local
restaurant. Around her visit, Elsie
managed a couple of loads of laundry, rejuvenating our saloon cushion covers.
We were joined at breakfast by Nicky and Reg, from Blue
Velvet, who updated us on their adventures over the winter. They had managed to get down as far as
Honduras before lockdown and seemed to have made the most of being some of the
few guests in what was normally a busy tourist spot. It looked as though there would be a weather
window for us to depart on Wednesday morning and go the outside route round Hatteras,
so we let go at midday and headed back to the Cape Lookout, having a nice beam
reach on the way. A re-check in the
morning showed that we should have SSE 20 knots, gusting 25, pretty much all of
the way. This was a bit more than ideal
for the 70 miles between the Capes of Lookout and Hatteras, where it would be
on the beam, but well within Ruby’s capability. We put 3 reefs in the main and
headed out at 0900. At first, the winds
were lighter than forecast, though there was a larger swell than we had
expected. This continued to build to over 4 metres and,
with the wind increasing to 25, gusting 30, made progress, though rapid, very
uncomfortable. Once past Hatteras, we
were able to come round to a broad reach and the swell reduced, making it more
pleasant. Of course, now that we could handle
the wind, it started to reduce and, by 08:00 on Thursday, we were motor
assisting and we continued, juggling sail plan and motor power as the wind
varied all the way. We entered the Chesapeake
at dusk and elected to continue as the following morning the wind was due to
die, then re-start from the north. The last
30 miles were made under full sail with the wind increasing back to F5-6, which
finished us with a romp up the South River at Annapolis. We entered Harness Creek, one of our
favourite spots on this coast, and anchored at 14:40, a little surprised to find
it almost deserted.
Saturday morning dawned fair and by 10:00 the joint was
jumping. There is a place to rent
kayaks, paddle boards, etc and on previous visits there were usually a few of
these out at weekends. Now, every one
was taken, with queues building. Dozens
of small motor boats also arrived to celebrate the end of Covid lock-down. We had work to do: tidying, cleaning and
drying so just got on with that over the weekend. We did go ashore for a walk on Sunday, to get
a few more cleaning supplies and then sat down with our sun-downers to watch
the last of the weekend visitors leave that evening, leaving us in peace.
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