May 16, 2019: Norfolk to Coinjock
After 30 something hours of sailing, it was a nice break to have some slow motoring ahead of us. We weighed anchor at 9 am and headed towards marker zero of Intracoastal Waterway. Some had suggested we take the Great Dismal Swamp, but we draw about 5.5 feet and the depth of the Dismal Swamp is about 6 feet. This was cutting it a bit close so we decided to take the route with greater depth and more variation. This mainly involved staying in the center of the canal and keeping an eye out for treacherous tree stumps. There are very few places to anchor directly on the ICW, meaning we could only travel during daylight hours.
Thanks to the lovely couple of SV Imagine^2, we had trusty guide books to follow as we made our way south. We passed through a series of bridges and a lock. We had heard about some of the bridges being closed so we tied up after the Great Bridge Lock and talked to some other folks close by. They had been there for two days waiting for bridges to open. Lucky for us we called several bridge operators to investigate the matter. It looked like everything was open and we’d be able to make it to Coinjock before dark. Although we did make it to Coinjock, it was not before dark. When we pulled in, it was difficult to discern which were private docks and which were the marinas. We knew we were going to get up before the town woke up so we decided to tie up in front of what looked like an abandoned Mobil gas station next to Midway Marina.
Fun Tid Bit:
- We had heard such good things about Coinjock, but were less than impressed as we motored through. At the end of the trip, Josh and I learned from the dock master as Las Olas Marina in Fort Lauderdale that Coinjock is known for it’s prime rib. A good excuse to go back if you ask me!
May 17, 2019: Coinjock to Pungo River Canal
We woke up at 6:15 am to bugs and mildew. The night before we decided that an early start would be necessary to get us to our next waypoint: Belmont. Since we were traveling during the day, our “shifts” were adhered to in principle but not in practice. We had time to finish all our projects and sneak in many naps.
As we got into the Albermale Sound, there some some confusion about which bridge to head towards. We were already tired of the sound of the engine that we were excited to finally be in an open area to raise sails. As luck would have it the wind was coming in the exact direction we wanted to go. This became very apparent as we entered the Alligator River. With a bit of foresail and the motor, we were averaging 2-3 knots against some gnarly waves. Josh and I were on shift and had to put our foul weather gear on to protect ourselves from the amount of spray. After pushing through we got back on track to the quiet canals surrounded by marshlands. We were able to finish our final project: installing the anchor light. Too bad Jack didn’t take a camera up the mast with him. It was a full moon.
Because of our slow progress in Alligator River, we weren’t able to make it all the way to Belmont. Instead we stopped in a quiet anchorage just outside the Pungo River Canal. The calm waters and lack of bugs was a welcoming reprieve from a hectic day of sloshing around.
May 18, 2019: Arrival in Beaufort
By day 3 on the ICW, we were all tired of motoring and covered in days old sunscreen. Today was the day that we’d make it to Beaufort where we would stop for a bit until we decided when we’d cross the Gulf Stream. After watching a beautiful sunrise over the anchorage, we scooted on out of there. The journey involved a mixture of motoring and sailing as we passed a stretch of older houses and people enjoying the water. Since all the projects were done, we took the time to enjoy ourselves and relax under a self made tent on the bow.
As we got closer to the I-70 overpass, just before Beaufort, we ran aground. Jack had passed the tiller on to Josh and there was some confusion about which marker to head towards. The area was just a big shoaled area where it was important to keep an eye on the charts. All of a sudden Jack says “Josh! We’re at 4.5 feet!” and then clunk, we hit bottom. We all swiftly made our way to the port side of the boat, unfurled the foresail and slowly sailed our way off. Luckily there was enough wind the pull us off, no one was hurt, and nothing was damaged. As the saying goes: there are three types of sailors. Those who have run aground, those who lie about it, and those who will. We like to openly talk about it, dare I say brag about it? Jack insisted on tying up at a Town Center Marina for the night. There, we took showers and met a few fellow boaters on the dock. It felt good to be clean again.
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