We have a lovely sleep. I am right about the additional towels – the ‘bedding’ is so heavy we can hardly move and you have to turn over carefully to stop the towels from bunching up under the top blanket but at least it’s lovely and toasty warm. After all the wind during yesterday, the trees have kept us sheltered at the side of the river and we get up fully refreshed. However, by the time we leave for Beaufort at 10.00 am Jeannius is doing her whirly gig dance going around in circles, buffeted by the wind and the current again.
The motor towards Beaufort is a mixed bag. Sometimes you have the current with you and sometimes it is against you, it depends on what tributaries are joining the river and whether you are going through cuts to join the rivers or not. All very complicated. Mike has timed it so that we should have more current going with us and when there is current against us, for it not to be strong. It works for the most part but makes for a variable speed – anything between 3.5 and 7 knots at the same engine speed.
We have hardly got going before we hear the roar of jet engines. The US Marines have a base near here and today they seem to be practising landing and take off just across the marshes.
Photo: US army jet coming in to land, wheels down already
Photo: You daren’t wander off the ICW without being blown up
Mike had slowed right down when he realised that he couldn’t make it to the swing bridge opening by noon. The Waterway Guide says it is closed between 11 am and 1 pm. However, because of a sudden and ferocious current with us, we arrive just after noon only to find that the notice in the river says the bridge opens throughout the day on the hour and half hour. Dammit. If we hadn’t gone slow at the beginning we could have made the noon opening and now we have to wait, in a current. Mike calls the bridge and just to make sure and discovers that it will also open at 12.30 so it turns out that the wait will be much shorter than we thought. I start to make lunch thinking that immediately we are through it will be ready.
While I cook, I quietly fume. You buy these guides in good faith for quite a lot of money. They are reprinted every year and not that much needs to change but still they are wrong. We have even checked the internet for updates but there was nothing for this bridge. The bloody book is really getting on my nerves. Supposedly the bees’ knees of ICW books it is very difficult to find your way around (everything is stated to be x miles from the beginning but nothing on the route actually makes any reference to these mile markers (well so far anyway and we are over 500 miles down it).
Rant over, back to the bridge. On time, bells clang, lights flash, barriers on the bridge descend and immediately all the traffic has stopped, the bridge starts to swing open to let us through. We are the only boat waiting. How much does it cost to keep doing this? No wonder they are gradually changing the swing bridges for fixed bridges. If only they had made them all 70 feet though instead of 65 feet our life would be so much easier!!
Photos: Ladies Island swing bridge in operation
I start to serve lunch (chicken and avocado pasta with honey and mustard) when Mike realises that we are right here by the marina that we want to stay in. We had both thought it was further down. I abandon serving lunch and call the marina instead. I’m not quite sure what the guy says (the voices are getting more and more southern) but I catch enough to realise that where we go is pretty much up to us. I put everything on the starboard side as Captain tells me and get ready to throw the lines to anyone willing to risk being hit in the face with one. Actually I’m pretty good at this rope throwing lark and have been told that I don’t throw like a girl. I take that as a compliment.
It’s a difficult dock to come up to. The current is strong and against us and the wind keeps pushing our stern out. As Mike drives the boat in, the guy with our bow line pulls it too tight and tips the balance – the boat turns to face the dock and the current takes over to try and turn us completely around. They throw the lines back on board and we have another go, this time pulling the stern in tight first and Jeannius is alongside and tied up. That is the first time Mike has not been able to dock on the first attempt but the dock staff say what a difficult place it is to dock at when the wind and current are fighting each other and you are in the middle.
We eat our now lukewarm lunch which thankfully tastes OK that way and get ourselves settled. We will stay here for a couple of nights but it depends on the weather. Later in the afternoon we go out to see the sights of historic Beaufort.
Now Beaufort, South Carolina is pronounced ‘Bewfert’ as opposed to the one in North Carolina which is pronounced as you would think. Apparently it’s very important to get this right!
Photos: Beaufort’s waterfront park
We walk through the main street, not particularly pretty but actually reminds me of it’s namesake further north architecturally – the architecture here reminiscent of 1920 – 1950, but once we leave the art galleries, boutiques and knickknack shops behind us it’s like entering something from ‘Gone With The Wind’. Well nearly. The cars and overhead power cables spoil the illusion a bit as do all the pumpkins and Halloween paraphernalia left over from last night.
The houses in the waterfront area, however, are just spectacular, some of them from a bygone era of hats, carriages and long, flouncy, crunchy gowns. I keep expecting to see Scarlett herself flouncing around on one of the covered verandas.
Photos: Beaufort’s ‘Gone With The Wind’ heritage
Huge swathes of Spanish moss (which I find out later is neither Spanish nor moss) drip from the trees, some of whose branches have grown so long they rest on the ground like great gorilla arms. There are many great oaks and the shade they throw makes everything feel a bit closed in and a bit spooky away from the shore itself. The houses look lovely but I’m not sure I would want to live in one with all the surrounding gloom, even on a sunny day like today.
Photos: Spanish moss and mighty oaks abound
Photos: Views across the marshes
We walk back through the town centre, looking in some of the shops on our way. We get talking to a man in one shop (I’m still not sure whether he worked there or not) who regales us with tales of the town’s confederate past and you definitely get the feeling that some people believe the Civil War never ended around the parts!
We stop for ice cream then go on back to the boat. We can do more sightseeing tomorrow.
Photos: Ladies swing bridge as the light starts to go
Photo: Sunset behind a southern cruiser
As often happens, the wind which has been blowing all day, drops down almost completely at sunset leaving us with a beautiful flat, calm sea. But it’s still bloody cold!
Position: 32 deg 25 min N, 80 deg 40 min W
Distance so far: 3339 miles
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