It’s a 6 am wake up call this morning. We have over 60 miles to do and according to the weather forecast we will have headwinds to do it in hence the early start.
Having stated that he is never going under another 65-foot fixed bridge ever, ever again, today we are going to see if we can get something else chopped off by going under the 65-ft bridge at Core Creek. I don’t join the discussion on this. I know when to keep my mouth shut – sometimes.
As we get ready to leave both ferries have their engines running getting ready to leave Ocracoke as well. Wanting to get out before them and more importantly wanting to get out before Richmond, the dreaded dredger gets going, we throw the lines off quickly and head out before Silver Moon.
The sky looks ominous ahead but beautiful behind us and I watch the sun rise over Ocracoke as we leave. The sea is what I call a Las Perlas sea – it is almost flat calm and the water looks viscous, almost like a thick, lustrous oil.
Photo: Silver Moon leaving Ocracoke
Photo: Jeannius leaving Ocracoke
One of the ferries comes out behind us followed by Silver Moon but the ferry soon peels off in another direction leaving us alone in the somewhat eerie sea. Just a few miles ahead in the channel we can see some of the dredging equipment – two pieces of rusty looking stuff joined somewhere by a huge pipe. We approach it cautiously, noting the markers alongside it and continue on our way passing Bird Shit Island and its accompanying smell once more.
Photo: Strange dredging stuff left lying by Bird Shit Island
We are able to get the sails out for a while but they don’t really help a lot and we continue to motor. Just over 40 miles later we leave the Pamlico Sound and are in the Neuse River. In between there have been shrimp boats galore, trailing their nets and being followed by hopeful seabirds.
We take a sharp left turn into Adams Creek and once again we are a more enclosed environment with more things to look at, well a few houses and trees anyway.
Photos: Adams Creek
Adams Creek is a bit of a miserable place. Damage from Hurricane Irene when she came through here last year is obvious. Fallen trees litter both shores and have gone silver and white. Stumps are everywhere as are huge clumps of uprooted tree roots, home to all sorts of terrifying creatures no doubt.
As we get nearer to the bridge, I become more and more apprehensive. I know I shouldn’t. I know Mike knows what he is doing and I’ve checked the tides myself (fear gives you a desire to learn about the thing that is frightening you I’ve found).
Naturally when the bridge is in sight, two motor boats come thundering up behind us, just what we don’t need with their huge wakes. If they make the water go up and down too much just as we are going under it could make all the difference. Mike calls the first one and tells him that we will slow so he can pass. The first one to pass, a huge thing that we have seen down in the BVIs, slows right down to minimise his wake and wishes us luck as he goes by but the second one, smaller (and probably with a size complex) thunders through making a huge wake. We actually have to come to a stop to let the wake die away before we attempt to go under.
Photo: Is this bridge our nemesis?
The tide board at the bridge says 66 feet which means it should be fine but we both watch anxiously as first the antenna and then the mast glide under. It doesn’t look like we have any more clearance than we did the other day when the tide board said 65, but clear it we do. I think we have just learned that we have to take all the boards with a pinch of salt and only go through at low tide.
Photo: The tide board says 66 feet but we only just make it
We see dolphins just after the bridge and I stand on the bow and try to film them. They are somewhat lethargic but Maggie and Bob tell me they are a good omen and since Maggie saw them before we went under the bridge maybe she’s right.
We end up attempting to anchor at the Town Marina at Beaufort. We get our anchor down and it settles securely but we swing at a different angle to everyone else and stay there. Silver Moon does the same thing a short distance away but Mike remains unhappy about the way Jeannius is lying and as there is nowhere to go in the anchorage we end up tying up at the tatty marina just by the side. At over $100 for the night and being rather scruffy, it is not the best value we have had. Still, we know we are secure for the night.
Maggie and Bob come over for dinner, armed with turkey chilli and red wine. I provide the tricolour garlic rice (tricolour as I empty two containers of rice and add the beginnings of a third) and a good Marlborough SB. It’s not our last night together but it feels like it and Maggie and I get damp eyed before we pull ourselves together.
Tomorrow we will head further down into Beaufort with them and do some provisioning. They will leave on Sunday heading out through the islands to the Atlantic heading for the BVIs. We will head somewhere else – we just don’t know where yet. We’ll be alone again and it feels like the beginning of yet another chapter.
Position: 34 deg 43 min N, 76 deg 40 min W
Distance so far: 3048 miles
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