Mike set the alarm last night to take account of the fact that the clocks went back, or at least, he thought he did. In fact, when the pretty music and birdsong erupted at 6 am it was actually 5 am. Still, it means that by 6.45 we are on our way. Unless I am finishing a night watch, I don’t normally see the sun rise and given the scene as we leave, I know I am missing out most days by lying in my pit waiting for tea.
Photos: Early morning leaving Beaufort
Our first 65-foot fixed is just a short hop around the marshes. We have been looking at it in the distance for the last few days, drove across it yesterday, and now get to potentially hit it. Oh such joy. It is, however, very low tide as we approach it and we slide under gracefully without the need of Vaseline or prayer although I’m sure that holding one’s breath and stomach in helps a lot.
Photos: Piece of cake (breathe out, Jean, breathe out)
We motor through the next 20 miles of marshland, zig zagging our way through cuts, rivers and open water.
Photo: The marshland of South Carolina
It’s flat with occasional clumps of trees and we see lazy dolphins most of the way. The weather is absolutely beautiful and after the early morning chill disappears we begin to strip off the layers and actually enjoy being in the sunshine. However, the second bridge of the day looms and we are not at low tide. For the second time today there are no tide boards. How the bloody hell are you supposed to know whether it’s safe to go under?
We prepare to anchor and wait for the tide to go down a bit, getting distracted by a couple of dolphins that are frolicking together in the water . At first I think it is a mother and calf but they are about the same size so maybe courtship is taking place as they seem to roll and curl around each other. Ahh.
Photo: Dolphins play alongside the boat
Suddenly we get a call on the VHF – it’s Keith and Jeannie on the catamaran Mucho Gusto who we first met in Beaufort, NC and then Charleston. Their mast is lower than ours and they offer to go first to see how much room there is underneath then watch while we go under and get a different perspective to us.
They go through and have no problem so we follow, holding our breaths once more … and just make it. Another one bites the dust!
Mucho Gusto cheer and wave goodbye. We follow for a while then turn off towards Savannah. As we continue through the marshes, I keep a wary lookout for ‘gators but so far have not seen any.
Photo: I’m sure there’s things lurking on the banks of the rivers
Even if you didn’t know where the Savannah River started, the sudden presence of huge tankers and freighters would be a clue. First we get one charging down the river towards us. He calls us, acknowledging our presence and checks that we are going to keep to starboard while he passes. He also tells us that there is another one coming up the river behind us, something which was showing on AIS but I hadn’t noticed.
Photos: As one disappears around the bend behind us, another one comes around the same bend charging up from the rear
Pilot boats rush to escort the new boat in and we watch as ahead of us they use their huge rubber bows and powerful thrusters to push the freighter into position against the dock while she is tied up. As we pass, we jiggle all over the river due to the disruption of the water caused by the tugs’ efforts.
Approaching Savannah from this angle is not a pretty sight – it is most definitely a busy working port even on a Sunday. After passing cement works, shipping docks and what looks like a chemical plant, we come across Fort Jackson, the oldest remaining brick built fort in Georgia which was the headquarters of the Savannah River defences in the Civil War. It doesn’t look much from the river though.
Photo: Fort Jackson
We continue up the Savannah River with my mobile phone glued to my ear. I am trying to call the city docks – they don’t monitor any VHF channels and the mobile number for the dock master goes unanswered. The voice on the answer phone promises to call back promptly but he doesn’t. Eventually I get an answer though. A grumpy voice tells me that there’s no electricity on the dock, it’s $2 a foot and he’s trying to take the day off. Well excuse me for phoning the number on the huge advert in the cruising guide, Sir! He says he’ll try to get someone to the dock to take our lines but when we arrive there is no one there.
Keeping a wary eye out for scuttlers, I manage to step ashore from the back steps even though Mike has a bit of a fight against the current getting me there. He is good at this.
We manage to tie up successfully – eventually. The current is weird here and pushes the boat all over the place even though the boat just behind us (which was in the 79th St Boat Basin in Manhattan when we were there in September) is not moving at all. Even while we are still tying up freighters are hammering further up the river. We thought we had left the freighter terminals behind us but apparently not. It occurs to Mike that this could go on all night. Lovely.
Photos: Another one passes, this time laden with army jeeps
We lock the boat up and make our way up to River Street and the market. The market, which looked vaguely promising from the boat, is full of a horrible load of tourist tat – really gross stuff. Who buys it and what the hell do their houses look like?
Factor’s Walk, blocks of four and five-story brick warehouses along River Street, were built hard against the bluff but rise to connect with Bay Street behind by a series of iron and wooden bridges. The lower levels are now filled with shops and restaurants and it is where we encounter the Peanut Shop. I can’t believe there are so many ways to dress up the good old peanut! A vast array of tins contain peanuts flavoured with chilli and garlic, wasabi, cinnamon, crab (crab?), BBQ, Bloody Mary (!) or peanuts covered with different kinds of chocolate. And it’s not just peanuts but pecans, almonds and cashews too. Every flavour has an open tin for you to sample. And we do, eventually settling on a tin of milk covered cashews as a treat. I would imagine that anyone with a nut allergy would have to pass on the other side of the street!
Continuing up I find a shell shop with a fantastic array of beautiful shells. Still contrite at having thrown my Ocracoke shells away, Mike patiently waits while I choose a really nice one – a sort of very frilly conch. I nearly get a beautiful mother of pearl thing, about eight inches diameter and hollow and very thin, too delicate I think, even for my hand luggage so reluctantly I leave that one in the shop.
We leave the river side and the tourists behind and walk up to Bay Street towards the US Customs House and the City Hall. Suddenly through a gap in the buildings we see another freighter pass, an incongruous sight I must say.
Photo: A freighter rumbles along the river
Photo: The old Savannah Cotton Exchange
Photo: The gold leaf was only added to the City Hall’s dome in 1988
Photo: The City Hall
Photo: It looks even more impressive from the front as the sun sets on the gold
Photo: Not quite skyscrapers but nice architecture
Photo: Nice detailing on the top floor of this building
We walk a few blocks from the river to the first of many park squares. The city was designed on a grid system with 24 open squares by a Brit, James Oglethorpe from Gravesend in Kent. Gosh we get around. Most of these squares were meant to be parks or places for meetings, and we find one little square with an intense game of chess being played, literally by the side of the road.
Photo: Chess, Savannah style
Aware that with the daylight saving time change will bring darkness earlier we start to head back to the boat. River Street is still busy but not frantic like it is from Thursday to Saturday. The warehouses have obviously been done up inside but the outsides could do with a bit of sprucing up. Presumably they were once brick faced but many of them have now been rendered and the rendering is falling off in places giving an air of neglect when they could have looked magnificent. The cobbled street outside, coupled with the lamps and the trolley that still runs on the tram lines certainly add to the historic feel of the place.
Photos: Factory Walk, River Street
Photo: This is one bridge we don’t need to go under
Photo: Not the most scenic of docks!
The route back through to the dock is through a building site. All the entrances are blocked off by railings and cordons and we have to clamber over them. The dock toilets are closed and with no electricity, you really are not getting anything for your money. And it’s noisy. All through the evening, thundering great freighters make their way further up the Savannah River, although I have to say that the tugs make more noise and wake than they do.
Photo: Another one comes through
Gratefully, the dreaded scuttlers do not make an appearance, but we keep everything tightly shut, just in case!
I’m not sure about Savannah. People rave about it. The nightlife is meant to be fantastic but we are not party animals. It lacks the charm of Charleston and even of Beaufort. I am well aware that I am making a judgement based on just a few hours and have not given it a chance to show me what it has to offer but I’m disappointed in what I’ve seen this afternoon and not sure if I am prepared to give it that chance. Maybe if the weather is good tomorrow we’ll have another wander before we leave. Or maybe not.
Position: 32 deg 05 min N, 81 deg 05 min W
Distance so far: 3379 miles
No comments:
Post a Comment