Crossing The Gulfstream Recap and Wrapping Up the ICW

Ben and Win hanging out on the boom.

View of Umbrella Cay and its beaches.

Beautiful Umbrella Cay, our last anchorage in the Bahamas.

Nat releasing a fish on the beach.

Win in his element, stalking fish . . . .

Nat wading the flats.

An Antillean Nighthawk that Besty and the boys spotted on Umbrella.

The typical offshore cockpit jumble.  Just off northern Florida after a long, bumpy night.

Beautiful sunset over calm seas on night 3 offshore.

Waccamaw River, just north of Georgetown, SC.

Interesting gates sloughs on the Waccamaw.

Pretty scenery off the NC ICW.

The ICW off Holden Beach on Memorial Day weekend; imagine this same picture, but with 1000 jet skis, water skiers and huge cabin cruisers running at 40 knots and throwing 6 foot wakes and you'll get a sense of what most of the ICW looked like that weekend.

Funny shack on ICW . . .

Out of order picture of Ben with his first bonefish (on a flyrod) off of Powell Cay.

View of Cape Fear from Southport, NC.

So, as you all know by know, we made it across from the Bahamas without too much trouble, and we're now heading back North; in fact, we just finished our ICW trip this afternoon and are anchored in Norlfolk, VA. We've been moving so much lately that we haven't done a good job of checking in here. For those of you who would like a recap of our crossing and what we've been up to since, look below . . . .

The Crossing
After the Osprey crew left us at Powell Cay, we sailed over to Morain Cay to check out the outer reefs there, catching another good-sized Mutton Snapper on the way. The snorkeling at Moraine was fantastic -- loads of live coral, with sandy bottomed canyons running through coral heads/walls in shallow water. There was a bit of swell running at the island, so the water wasn't gin clear, but Morain was still worth the stop. After a good swim, we pulled the hook and headed back a few miles to Umbrella Cay, which is just west of Alan's. Umbrella had a series of gorgeous beaches running along the back side, so we spent the rest of the day walking them and fishing on the sand flats there. The boys were all using the fly rods, even Win, and damned if they didn't catch a few fish. Even if they hadn't, the sight of seeing my three boys wading, looking and casting -- really, really well! -- made Betsy and me proud. After a quiet night, we left early the next morning for a long run over to Grand Cay. With the exception of Walker's Cay, Grand Cay is the last of the outermost Abacos, and it's way, way out there. Our plan was to anchor up for the night and leave around 2-3 am the next morning for the US. But after hearing the latest weather reports from Osprey (thanks!) and looking at our options, we decided to leave Grand that night after dinner. In the meantime, we headed to shore to top off our gas and water and make dinner reservations at Rosie's, one of the few restaurants on the island.

Grand was interesting; a bit run-down and dirty, with piles of equipment and boats lining the shore. Very different than the typical out island settlement. It seemed to cater mostly to US sport fishermen, as there was a small fleet of them in the harbor. But as is typical in the Bahamas the people in town were friendly and helpful, and the food that night at Rosie's was terrific. And the "different" feeling that we had about Grand made the decision to leave the Bahamas that night much easier to swallow. In any event, after dinner we checked in with our contacts and family one final time and ran back to the boat to gear up for a nighttime crossing. (Celilo and Osprey had set up a schedule to check in with us at least twice a day over the SSB, and then relay information about our position, weather, etc. to our parents. We can't thank them enough for their help). Because our weather window was starting to close with the beginnings of Beryl way, way down in the Caribbean, our plan was to head across the Little Bahama Bank that night, cross the Gulf Stream the following day with a course set toward Cape Canaveral (in case we needed a bail-out spot), and then head north on the western side of the Gulf Stream. This would let us use the several knot boost that we'd get from the north-running current of the Stream, while at the same time allowing us to jump into port at several spots in norther Florida and South Carolina if we needed to. Our goal was to reach Charleston, but we'd be happy to get as far as Fernandina Beach, FL, and we'd be really, really happy to stretch as far north as Southport, NC.

Our first night out was very uneventful. We had no moon and very little wind, so we were forced to motor-sail across the entire Little Bahama Bank. The upside of having no wind was that it was flat calm, and I mean flat calm. Not a ripple anywhere. Betsy and I split the watches during the night, with Nat sitting for part of my watch and then waking up for Betsy's early morning watch too. It was fun to see him so excited about the crossing, even though the poor kid gets seasick pretty easily. He was a huge help that night and others, keeping Betsy and me company and pitching in with the steering and sail handling.

As the sun came up the next morning we were just leaving the Bank and entering the eastern edge of the gulf stream. There was still no wind, but we could just begin to feel a five foot swell from the northeast, a leftover of TS Alberto. All that day we motor sailed across the Gulf Stream in fairly calm seas. In the middle of the Stream we started to see waves coming in from just about every direction -- felt like being in a washing machine at times. They were fairly benign, though, and there was no wind chop at all. Betsy and I continued to swap watches during the day, catching up on our sleep. We also fished all day long and caught two nice-sized Mahi. That evening, just after we enjoyed a nice dinner and sunset in the cockpit, we started to see some thunderstorms coming off the coast of FL, about forty miles away. They were associated with a weak cold front that was supposed to pass over us that evening, so we had expected them. Still, it's never fun to begin an evening watch on a moonless night with big thunderheads and lighting strikes approaching your boat.

With some creative zig-zagging, we managed to avoid all of the thunderstorms in the area that night. But we didn't avoid the updrafts and downdrafts associated with the cells, and the "weak" cold front that passed over had a lot more wind in it than was predicted. All of this meant several hours of 25-35 knot winds with building seas, and gusts topping 40 knots several times. It also meant that Betsy, Nat, Ben and even Win felt very sick that night. The sailing was sporty and very fast -- during one hour plus leg, we averaged over 9 knots with a double reefed main and nothing else up -- but it was at the expense of the crew's stomachs. They were absolutely incredible, though; nobody complained a bit, even though Betsy, Nat and Ben spent the night wedged in various parts of the cockpit, trying to find some was to stay still in the wild downwind ride we were having. In fact, Nat spent all three nights sleeping in the cockpit! Around 3am, the wind started to decrease to a steady 20-25 and things smoothed out, and by daybreak we had a good 15-20 knot sailing breeze with a healthy following sea. Once everyone emerged from their seasick fog, I fully expected them to vote that we head into Fernandina Beach, FL that day, rather than pushing onto Charleston, which meant another full day and full night at sea. I certainly wouldn't have blamed them. But after discussing all of our options, each of the kids told us they'd rather press on. Pretty impressive, given how sick they'd felt all night. (When it came to Win, who doesn't get as seasick as the others, the deciding factor was whether we could continue to troll; heading to Charleston meant more fishing, and thus his vote was to sail on).

As if to reward the crew for their gutsy decision, the rest of the trip was very, very calm. So calm that we eventually had to fire up the engine and motor sail for the rest of the trip. Later that same day, during one of our check-ins on the SSB with Osprey, we found out that Zusammen, Makana and Dharma had left Fernandina Beach early that morning and were sailing just ahead of us, heading to Winyah Bay. Eventually, we caught up to withing 20-30 miles of them and were able to talk with them on the VHF all evening. It was a unique, high-frequency reunion on the high seas, and we had a great time catching up with everyone on where they'd been and what they'd done. By the time morning came around, we were clearing the entrance buoys to Charleston and seeing the US mainland for the first time in more than three months. As groggy as everyone on Chere felt, we were more than a little proud of pushing through and finishing on our first multi-night crossing together.

Post Crossing; Running up the ICW
After tying up at the Charleston City Marina, we cleared customs, slept, then slept some more, and finally headed out to a celebration dinner at the Hominy Grill. We were still in a sleep deficit the next morning, so we decided to spend another day in Charleston, strolling down King Street and checking out the shops, parks, churches and incredible architecture in the area. We also stocked up on food and supplies at the local grocery store; the kids (and Betsy and me) were in utter, absolute awe of the amount of food and selection available. A stark contrast to the small shops that had kept us supplied in the out islands.

The days since then have been a bit of a blur. We've covered lots and lots of ground on the ICW, heading up the Waccamaw River the first day out, then pushed onto Southport the next day and through Wrightsville Beach the third, anchoring up in a small spot in Camp Lejune. From there we continued up through Beaufort, NC, past Oriental and onto a great, great marina called River Dunes, where we caught up will the entire crew(s) from Zusammen, Dharma and Makana. We spent two days at River Dunes -- a 5 start resort that charged a pittance for slip fees and that was essentially empty while we were there -- waiting out the rain and wind from TS Beryl and catching up with all of our friends.  After a farewell dinner for Dharma in Oriental (their home port) last night, and a very sad goodbye to Chris, Courtney, Ben and Cole two mornings ago, we set off again with Zusammen and Makana, heading north on the ICW. Tough saying goodbye to such good folks, we're certainly going to miss them, but we hope to see them again soon, maybe in Colorado.

We had a little excitement toward the end of the day (Thursday) when Makana struck something big, likely a log, in the ICW. They immediately told Zusammen and us to clear the area -- we were both travelling right behind Makana -- while they checked below for damage. Rick didn't see anything inside the hull, and there was no water coming in, so we all continued North, eventually anchoring up at the Alligator River. After anchoring, Rick immediately jumped in the water to inspect the damage. Unfortunately, it was pretty significant -- the log had ripped a deep hole into the forward part of his keel -- and needed a quick patch. John got his scuba gear ready ASAP, jumped in my dinghy and off to Makana we went. John and Rick then geared up and jumped into the murky waters of the Alligator while I mixed epoxy on deck and handed them clumps to slap under the keel. I didn't envy those guys in that dark water, especially as the sun went down. But they got the job done and it has held ever since. Makana still needs to get pulled very soon for a full repair, which they'll do at he head of the Chesapeake, in Georgetown.

The next day we sailed and motored onto Coinjock, where the kids spend time fishing and crabbing on the docks, and everyone enjoyed card games into the night. This morning we shoved off at a reasonable time and had a smooth motor all the way to Norfolk, where we now sit at anchor across from the Nauticus. Lots of bridges and one lock consumed most of the day, and we ended the trip cruising through downtown Norfolk and oohing and ahhhing at all of the Navy ships tied up.

Where to next? We're not precisely sure, but as of now we're thinking of making an overnight run with Makana and Zusammen up to Annapolis (Zusammen was heading outside for a run up to Atlantic Highlands, NJ, but they just cancelled those plans 5 min ago after getting some updated weather information), and then spending several days up there trying to get some projects done and, more importantly, catching up with some family and friends in the area. After so many days of being on the move and not "smelling the roses", we'll be happy to slow down, do some exploring on land and check out the sights in the area. We hope also to catch up with our friends on Celilo, who are heading to Annapolis soon.