Jekyll Island, Ga

We awoke to another sunny and hot morning, this time though with a nice Southeasterly breeze -- sleeping last night had been no problem -- the breeze was strong enough to ensure that air was moving through the boat all night --  and even though the nighttime temperature was in the high 70's, sleeping was quite comfortable.

Today we decided to make a run for Jekyll Island --  a relatively long distance away (45 miles),  it would be a good place to stop and take a day off from moving south. It is a relatively small Island, state owned and relatively undeveloped save for a historical district and, it has a fascinating history -- in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, it was used as a "playground" for the very wealthy -- more on that later.

The journey would take us down rivers behind Sapelo and St. Simon's Islands and across three different sounds  -- eventually we would have to enter Jekyll Creek, an infamous "trouble spot" on the Intercoastal -- about halfway up the creek there is a an area celled the "mud flats" that has the worst shoaling in the whole Intercoastal -- if you wander out of the very narrow, not very well marked channel, you are in for thin water at best, more likely a grounding. Of course, our destination, either a marina or an anchorage, was on the other side of the mud flats -- we would have to cross them before we were done for the day.

Scenes along the way:

Avian hangout

Fishing in front of a McMansion

Pelican saying: Stop gawking & move on, you are scaring away the fish!

New Brunswick, a large paper-mill town, is close to Jekyll Island

We were unsure of how much the current might hinder or help us, so we had identified a couple of potential bail-out points along the way, but the mood of the crew was clear -- we both wanted to go for it and get there. As it turned out, the trip was pleasant with the SE breeze blowing all the way -- the current definitely was helping us overall, and as the day wore on, it became pretty clear that we would be able to make it as long as we didn't get stuck at the mud flats. It also became clear that we would be getting to the mud flats soon after high tide -- not optimum but not bad since the water would be close to the "best it could be". Of course, if we ran aground on the falling tide and couldn't get off quickly, we would be stuck for probably close to a full 12 hour tide cycle, not a happy thought.

As we approached Jekyll Creek, we called the marina to see whether there was room for us -- being the Sunday of Labor Day weekend, the answer was a polite but firm "No" -- they were packed to the gills. No problem, we knew there was a nice anchorage just beyond the Marina -- we could drop a hook there and dinghy into the Island (and even use the marina's showers, laundry, pool, etc.)  --we had it covered.

The entrance to the creek is somewhat complicated (and dangerous with an "underwater jetty" lurking just beyond the starboard marks -- you don't want to wander out of the channel here). I was at the helm and feeling pretty good once we got inside the creek -- the water was relatively deep (12') and the route well marked -- we just had to get through the pesky mud flats.

We were running along quite nicely, right where we should have been according to the marks, when bang, the depth went from 12' to 6' in the blink of an eye -- I immediately slowed the boat down and started to "weave" back and forth to seek deeper water, a stratagem that has worked many times before  -- we had clearly wandered out of the channel and I was hoping to rediscover it.

Alas, that was not to be -- no amount of weaving seemed to find deeper water -- rather the depths kept getting shallower and shallower -- we were making forward progress, slow for sure but definitely forward, yet I was seeing readings on the depth meter below 3 feet -- readings that anywhere else would indicate that we were aground -- yet we slowly moved forward. The only possible explanation was that we were plowing our way through the mud flats -- the bottom was so loose and soft that the keel could act as a plow and dig its own furrow. This was nerve wracking but turning back just  didn't seem like the right thing to do -- so we persevered forward -- and got lucky, for after about a hundred yards of this slow plowing, the depths started to creep up again -- we had made through!

The depths were soon back to 12' and shortly thereafter, we passed the Marina we had called (boats were in every conceivable spot on their docks). The anchorage was a bit further on and was wide and roomy -- we dropped the hook.

Oh, and did I mention the fact that the guidebooks warned us that there was a potentially noisy water park next to the anchorage? Well, there was although luckily, the wind was blowing the noise away from us, so it wasn't very objectionable at all.

Water park in our backyard

By this time, we were almost halfway to low and the current was running pretty strongly through the anchorage -- we rigged our safety flotation lines before venturing out for a swim -- this was the strongest current we had experienced all trip -- we didn't stay in long, but enjoyed being cooled down by the clean green water.

Sundowners and dinner followed shortly thereafter, with an evening light show from thunderstorms to our west -- we could see the lightening and occasionally hear the rumble of thunder, but happily these storms had formed inland and were heading west, so their only impact on us was to be our evening's entertainment.

Light show in the distance !

Even bigger light show !

Crescent River, Ga

We awoke to another sunny, hot and light breeze day -- sleeping last night was rough --- there was only a very light breeze and courtesy of the strong tidal current, the boat mostly faced away from it. I had rigged a towel to steer some of the breeze into the big forward hatch before I turned in; it worked for a while, but eventually the overnight breeze died, leaving us in a breeze free V-berth for much of the night.

I usually go up on deck shortly after wakening to check out the weather and the morning. Today, I found a fisherman in a small boat quietly fishing just of our port bow. The water was still and he seemed to be bottom fishing -- we saw him pull out two small sharks, one of them a hammer head, in the few minutes we watched him while we were pulling up the anchor -- he was still fishing quietly as we left the anchorage.

The fisherman off our bow

The current was initially against us, but we soon came upon St. Catherine's sound, where it reversed and started to help us -- like the inlets in North Carolina, this pattern of hinder/help (or vice-versa) occurred each time we crossed a sound in Georgia -- the salt marshes are much wider along the Georgia coast so we running further "inland", away from the ocean -- the sounds connected all the river and creek systems in the marshes to the ocean.

Scene long the way:

Cleaning his catch / Feeding the Gulls

As it turned out, we traversed a number of sounds today and we were getting more help than hindrance so we made it a long day to take advantage of the friendly currents -- we ultimately did over 45 miles and ended up in another salt marsh anchorage behind Sapelo Island called Crescent creek -- it was much like the one from the night before.

Another creek lined with private docks

We had had numerous dolphin sightings over the day and we took a swim to cool down once we dropped the hook -- if today sounds a lot like yesterday, you are right -- the serpentine trip through the Georgia Marshes feels very repetitive -- almost monotonous.

Ah, but there is always something new to experience, even in the Georgia salt marshes -- I was on deck just before dusk and heard a strange "Snap, Crackle, Pop" sound coming from a disturbed patch of water that moved from our stern to the port side of the boat (and then disappeared) -- the guides had said this might happen -- the noise comes from tiny (inch long) "snapping shrimp"; they have a large claw and scientists have proven that the rapid closure of the claws causes cavitation air bubbles to be generated and it is the popping of those bubbles that makes the noise. These fellows are so noisy that in the large schools found just off the coast can hide a submarine from sonar -- I wouldn't be surprised if someone in the DoD has put out a grant trying to get someone to figure out how to use these creatures to "cloak" subs :-)

Finally, the setting crescent moon, milky way,  star and lightning show were both on again this evening with one important difference -- the clouds were higher above the horizon and the lightning brighter in this anchorage -- we had clearly drawn closer to the locale of the storms but they were still too far away for us to hear them.

Tonight's Crescent Moon

Vernon River, Beaulieu, Ga

Our route today would take us across the Georgia state line in the Savannah river and then further south into Georgia's coastal salt marshes. The Intercoastal in Georgia is very serpentine, following meandering rivers, cuts and creeks as you worked your way through the state  -- indeed, many cruisers try and avoid Georgia's meandering Intercoastal altogether by sailing on the ocean from Beaufort SC to one of the inlets in Norther Florida. This tactic was not an option for us; at this time of year, the areas weather is dominated by the Bermuda high, winds are light and from the South (i.e., on our nose) -- there are no "Northers" that would make sailing south possible. Hence, we will have to do the 138 miles of Intercoastal to make the roughly 100 mile straight-line distance from Georgia to Florida.

After taking care of a few last minute chores (getting ice, topping off the tanks and getting rid of garbage), we locked-out of the Marina and were on our way. The current was initially against us but would turn and be with us later that morning.

The trip from Hilton Head involved going down Calibogue Sound and cutting behind Daufuskie Island to get over to the Savannah River. We happened to arrive at the river the same time a container-ship was coming in from the ocean -- it's amazing how big those ships are up close (and how little you feel on a boat like My Weigh). We crossed the shipping channel behind the container ship, seeing some dolphins feeding in and around the channel.

Harbor Town from Calibogue Sound

Container ship going up river just as we are entering it.

This is as close as we got to Savanannah proper

Suburban Savannah -- not too shabby !!

Once in Georgia, we followed the meandering route through what amounts to the "suburbs" of Savannah (the city itself was a few miles up the river from where we crossed it). The rivers and creeks we traveled on were lined with big, nice homes and there were frequent towns with quaint names like Thunderbolt and Isle of Hope. We passed the Moon River of Johnny Mercer fame (it is distinctly NOT "wider than a mile".) Eventually we arrived at our destination, a bend in the Vernon River that would be our home for the evening.

We anchored off some private docks off the town of Beaulieu on the Vernon River

A private dock had a sailboat with a red mast, a rarity reminiscent of Aletheia, my first boat

It was a yet another hot and sunny day, so after we dropped the hook, we took a swim -- the current was strong in this area (another defining characteristic of Georgia's Intercoastal is big tides (7' or more) and corresponding strong currents), so we used flotation aids tied to the boat to make sure we didn't have any drama around one of us being caried away. Dinner was Sue's famous Asiago, Greek Olive and Fig pizza (made with flatbread and cooked on aluminum foil on the grill) -- delish :-)

The bugs weren't bad on the river, so I was able to stay on deck well past dusk. We had a setting crescent moon -- low in the sky, it did little to impact the stars -- you could see the milky way clearly and, while not overwhelming, there were plenty of stars and constellations visible -- magical. At the horizon, far in the southern distance, I could see the tops of clouds flashing as lightening bolts lept between and down from them. They were very far away -- heard no thunder and just above the horizon -- but they were south, in the direction we were heading.

Hilton head

Our plan today is to explore Hilton Head Island -- we chose two primary places to see: the Honey Horn Plantation would give us a sense of its history and culture and a visit to Harbor Town would show us a bustling shopping and harbor district of today. The Honey Horn museum was only a couple of miles from our marina but Harbor Town was at the other end of the island -- cabs would be our primary way of getting around..

Hilton Head Island's early history and economy was Plantation based -- so-called "Sea Island Cotton" (it had extra long fibers) was the primary crop. At its peak, there were 13 major plantations on the Island -- slaves and their overseers were the permanent residents with owners visiting periodically to manage their holdings. The Union captured Hilton Head early in the Civil War and it became a POW camp and a refuge for emancipated slaves -- Mitchelville, the island's first freedman's village, was established during the war -- its residents elected their own officials, passed their own laws, and established the first compulsory education law in the state.  After the collapse of the plantation economy at the end of the war, the island's population collapsed and hunting lodges and shell fishing (by the Gullah community) were the main sources of income until the mid-20the century. In the 1950's, a swing bridge was built to the island, starting the land development boom that continues to this very day, turning the island into a vacation destination.

In addition to laying out the Island's history, the Honey Horn had nature trail with some interesting sights. A butterfly garden was full of colorful flowers and butterflies; a garden full of indigenous carnivorous plants; a reproduction of a shell ring -- constructed by local Indians 4000 or so years ago, these are large ring-shaped middens (piles of discarded shells of local oysters, clams, snails ...) with an empty flat area in the center -- some archaeologists believe the rings were used in ceremonies -- the have been found all over the southeast riverbanks and sea islands-- indeed, there is a large one in a park elsewhere on the island (which we wouldn't get to see, so seeing the reproduction was helpful). Finally, a barn and paddock that housed two so-called Marsh Tackys -- indigenous horses descended from original Spanish stock left on the island.

A resident of the butterfly garden

Venus fly traps are only found in South Carolina

This Marsh Tacky was muzzled -- guess he doesn't play nice with Museum Visitors

The museum grounds were filled with stately, moss covered oaks

Selfie under the oaks !

From the museum, we took a cab down to Harbor Town. On the edge of the oldest residential development on the Island, Sea Pine resort, this is a small keyhole harbor with a privately built lighthouse, a marina and a set of shops and restaurants. The lighthouse was built by the Charles Fraser, the resorts developer, as an "attraction" to get people to come and buy real-estate -- the lighthouse has become the most recognizable symbol for the resort and the island

Harbortown Marina and its light -- the shops are under the trees on the right

We were thinking it would be a fun place to have lunch and spend the afternoon -- lunch was nothing special and we quickly tired of looking through the few shops that were there -- it was sunny and hot and there was little to keep us there, so we soon called a cab, headed back and relaxed by the Marina's pool for the rest of the afternoon.

Moonrise over the marina, lovely !

Hilton Head

We awoke to yet another sunny and hot day -- there was a light breeze out of the Southeast so as long as you stayed out of the sun, the air was quite pleasant.

Our original plan for today was to stop in Savannah to pick up Ed, my brother-in-law. His plan was to drive down from his home in Atlanta, leave his car in Savannah and spend a few days with us as we moved down the Georgia coast. We would drop him off somewhere before we got to Florida and he would have someone pick him up and take him back to his car in Savannah. Sadly, we had learned the previous day that he wouldn't be able to join us -- his pick-up arrangement hadn't worked out.

Neither of us was interested in stopping in Savannah -- we had spent a couple of days there a few years ago. After looking at the charts and the calendar, we decided instead to go to Hilton Head Island -- neither Sue nor I have been there before. Our plan was to get there by late morning, do "chores" this afternoon and spend tomorrow touring the Island, heading further south the following day.

We wanted to stay at a marina, partly for the convenience and partly to be able to use the A/C. We also wanted a marina with a pool -- we were both envisioning some down-time at a pool as a way to beat the heat. The only marina that met these criteria (and wasn't miles off of the Intercoastal) was a place called Windmill Harbor. It was a marina in a high-end residential community with a yacht club and restaurant --  sounded great. But it had a "twist" -- you had to go through a lock to get into/out of it -- that puts many people off but not us -- our Dismal Swamp lock experience made us "good to go".

Locking in was easy and we were soon on a nice dock on a wall in a quiet harbor filled with lovely boats -- no currents or anchors to deal with tonight -- time to do some chores and have some fun.

Of course chore number 1 was to get some exercise and do some grocery shopping (good things always come in pairs!). Unfortunately, the grocery store was a 3 mile walk from the marina (so much for "convenience") -- walking there would be no problem, but coming back was definitely going to be a cab ride. We expected the walk to be hot (and it was); what we didn't expect was the lack of sidewalks -- much of the trip was along a limited access highway with no shoulder and nowhere to walk except alongside the road in the grass -- hot, noisy, buggy (because we would stir them up as we stepped) and with the thrill of cars and trucks passing close by at 60 miles an hour -- not exactly what we bargained for.

[Pictures to come -- stuck on bad computer]

We arrived at the Publix safely, did our shopping and returned by cab. The remainder of the day was spent lounging at the pool and reading, with dinner courtesy of Publix.

The Windmill Harbor Marina at night -- Yacht Club Clubhouse is large building on left

Beaufort, SC

Today's destination is Beaufort -- our plan is to park the boat on the free town dock while we explore the town and run a couple of errands. Once done, we figured we drop off the dock (no overnight parking allowed) and drop a hook in the harbor.

Beaufort is a thriving tourism center in the low country. First chartered in the early 1700's, it was a center for the rice and indigo trade before the Civil War. It was captured by the Union early in the war and hence escaped much of the destruction wrought on other southern cities. It's main industry after the war was Phosphate mining and in the 20th century, many films have been made there because of its wonderfully preserved architecture and vibrant waterfront (the Big Chill, the Great Santini, Forest Gump).

The trip was uncomplicated: take a cut from the Ashapoo to the Coosaw river, head down it a while and make a left into the Beaufort river to get to the city. It was also fast -- we had the current with us pretty much all the way and were there by late morning despite a 20 minute delay at the bridge just north of the town.

Once through the bridge, we headed for the town dock; sadly, there was "no room at the inn" -- three other boats had beaten us to the freebie docking. The good news was that there was a marina with a long, mostly unoccupied fuel dock right next to the town dock; we needed diesel and we figured that we could probably leave the boat there for a few hours for a nominal fee -- which is exactly what we did.

[Pictures to come -- stuck on bad computer]

We opted to have lunch in town and then walked along its main street and visited some of its shops -- we also tried, in vain, to find a grocery with some fresh produce -- we walked up to an area that Google showed had three different "groceries" -- one was out of the 1950's and only had potatoes and onions; the second was an Asian grocery with (strangely) no produce at all and the third was an organic grocery with unrecognizable and expensive produce -- we passed on buying any. The walk did give us a chance to see some of the back streets and neighborhoods of the town -- neat streets lined with moss-laden oaks and older homes in good shape on moderate lots -- nice !!

[Pictures to come -- stuck on bad computer]

Back at the marina, we took a quick shower (again, for a nominal fee)  and drove My Weigh from the fuel dock to a mooring ball 100 yards away -- our home for the evening and an "easy exit" next morning.

Rock Creek, SC

We awoke to another NE breeze and coolish temperatures -- it was going to be another fine day for our journey.

Our route for today brings us through a number of rivers connected by cuts as we work our way through the salt marshes on the coast of South Carolina. We'll ride the Stone, Edisto and Ashepoo rivers, eventually ending up in a creek off the latter for the evening. There is a bascule bridge right at the beginning of the day -- unfortunately, because it is in the greater Charleston area, its first opening isn't until 9am -- this is to allow commuters to get to work.

We had a fair current most of the way -- at one point in the first cut, I was doing 7.7 knots over land -- of course, it was short lived -- once we were out of the cut it fell to 6 or so, still helping us.

The parts of the route that were closest to Charleston were very pretty, wide and deep creeks lined with stately homes -- as we drew away from the city, the sceneray turned back into vast expanses of salt marsh cordgrass punctuated by the occasional cluster of trees sitting on an island -- lovely but monotonous. We did hit one shallow trouble spot around mid-day but Sue was able to pick her way through quite nicely and we were soon on our way again.

[Pictures to come -- stuck on bad computer]

Our anchorgae for the evening was a creek in the salt marsh (Rock Creek), almost 50 miles from Charleston. This shortened our trip to Beaufort, the next major city on our itinerary, to 20 or so miles -- we'll be there tomorrow by late morning.

Both North and South Carolina have towns named Beaufort -- they were named after one of the early Britsih land owners. Having the same name doesn't mean it is pronounced the same -- in NC it's pronounced "Bofort", in SC it's pronouncd Bewford -- go figure.

Like its precessor anchorages, Rock Creek was just a convenient hole in the cordgrass to drop the hook -- no dophins were visible, all we saw were birds, and not even many of those.

Charleston, SC

We awoke to a distinctly cooler morning -- a cold front had passed through Charleston during the night: the wind was out of the NE, the air was dryer and cooler and the day was only expected to get to the mid-80's -- the heat wave was broken.

I was going to have lunch with my college friend (John  Green) today, so Sue decided to go off and do some chores and shopping while I hung at the boat, did some work and boat chores.

John  picked me up at the marina and drove us to a local restaurant. We spent the next couple of hours comparing notes on our children, grandchildren and health, doing some "remember whens" and reminiscing about mutual friends (most still here but sadly, some not). It was simultaneously a delightful and bitter-sweet time: two of our close college friends had their lives (separately) cut off in their mid-20's -- in looking back at that, and then in looking at where we both are in our own lives, -- well, that really puts things in perspective -- we both have been so very fortunate .....

After lunch, John came back to see the boat and meet Sue -- I had it in my head that I wanted Sue to get a picture of the two of us, but somehow that got lost in all the laughter and chatter we did in the cockpit --yet another senior moment -- guess I'll have to wait another 20 years to get that photo :-)

Mark, John and Mike -- John sent me this picture just after we met

After John left, Sue and I dropped off of the marina dock and drove to the other side of the Ashley River to drop anchor -- no need for the A/C and no point in incurring another night's charges when we were planning to leave early the next morning anyway.

Charleston, SC

We awoke to another "heat advisory" day -- this one will get to a heat index of 113, the hottest day in Charleston this year -- and, of course, we picked it to be our touring day.

Dinner the previous evening was light --  popcorn, hummus and wine while we watched the movie -- hence, we both woke up hungry and not having much of anything but yogurt and peanut butter on board for breakfast, we opted to walk to a local restaurant for a big breakfast.

We then grabbed the   marina's courtesy shuttle to King Street, the main commercial street in Charleston's downtown.  We asked him to drop us off near an optometrist -- I managed to pop one of the lenses out of my glasses while I was working on the electric hatch and it needed to be reseated. We then "dropped into" the adjacent hat store -- we both had been thinking about buying bigger hats to protect ourselves from the sun we thought we'd see what they had -- we both ended up with new hats :-)

My new hat :-)

[Picture of Sue's new hat is stuck on my bad computer]

As we left the hat store, we heard music in  a park across the street -- it was hosting a Saturday morning farmer's market and we decided to check it out. We browsed through an assortment of fresh produce stands, including one that was advertising "raccoon tenderloins" -- they didn't really have them, it was a "come on" to get people "in the door". We also stopped to watch some break dancers who were showing off their chops (and passing the hat) -- their boom box was the music that drew us into the park in the first place.

Raccoon Tenderloin anyone?

The sun was out, there wasn't a cloud in the sky or a breeze in the air -- it was blazing hot. Sue had picked out some sights she wanted to see: namely a Cathedral the Exchange building and the Street Market (Sue had never been to Charleston before). Once we left the park, we mapped out a circuit to visit these places and then carefully choosing the shadier sides of the street, made our way to the first stop, the Cathedral.

On the way we happened to pass by the College of Charleston -- they were hosting a "welcome weekend" for the incoming Freshman -- the street outside the campus was lined with booths of every size and shape advertising activities and clubs. Young people were milling about everywhere, making inquiries and signing up at the booths that struck their fancy -- it was fun being surrounded by wide-eyed kids getting their first taste of college. We also happened to pass the Alpha chapter house for my fraternity, which was founded at the College of Charleston in 1904 -- another reason to recall the excitement of my own college days.

[Pictures to come  -- stuck on bad computer]

Our first destination, the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist, wasn't far from the college. Unlike most Cathedrals we have been in, the interior was mostly painted white and the stained glass windows seem to let in plenty of light, making the overall space seem bright and cheery (rather than the more typical somber an gloomy).

[Pictures to come  -- stuck on bad computer]

Our next stop, the Charleston Exchange, is a building that dates from the earliest days of Charleston, one of just three walled cities ever to exist in North America (the wall is long gone; St. Augustine and Quebec were the others). Constructed by the British Crown as a storehouse for goods coming in/going out of the colony, the basement storage rooms were used as a prison by the Brits when they occupied Charleston during the Revolutionary war. It became known as "the dungeon" because of its dirty, dank and overcrowded conditions causing many people to die during their imprisonment. Fortunately, the British were ousted during the war, limiting the total number of prisoners that experienced these inhuman conditions to a few hundred, including 4 signers of the Declaration of Independence.

[Pictures to come  -- stuck on bad computer]

By the time we got to our last stop, the Street Market, we were dragging from the heat. The market is a 5 or so block pedestrian mall lined with food, clothing and tchotchke shops. Part of is outside and part of it is inside (with A/C). Needles to say, we spent most of our time "not buying stuff" in the air conditioned part of the market.

[Pictures to come  -- stuck on bad computer]

Our original plan was to end our tour by having a nice dinner in town, but it was still early, neither one of us felt very hungry and the heat was oppressive, so we opted instead to walk back to our air conditioned sanctuary on the boat, leaving open what to do for the evening.

A couple of hours later, fully recovered from the heat, we decided to substitute going to a movie for eating out. We had the courtesy van drop us off at a local theater so we could see "The 100 Step Journey (Helen Mirren)" -- we both loved it. 

Charleston, SC

We awoke this morning to what was going to be yet another "heat advisory" day -- the southeast U.S. was in the grip of a heat wave that was expected to last through tomorrow.

This "blackbird at the helm" greeted us this am -- he was eating dead insects off the dinghy !

Despite our being slowed down by the "trouble spot" yesterday, we had made almost 50 miles -- what the Intercoastal took away by slowing us down in shoal waters, it gave back by giving us helpful currents much of the way. This meant that we would only have to do 20 miles to Charleston -- we would be there by lunch time. Our plan was to stay in a large marina on the Ashley river -- convenient to the center of town, it would make it easy for us to tour the city and for me to visit with my friend, John.

Like the day before, we saw a number of dolphin pods feeding along the way -- we also encountered a mercifully short trouble spot that again forced us to pick our way through very shallow water. As we got within a few miles of Charleston, the shores of the Intercoastal became more populated and there were many weekend boaters on the water -- we were traveling through the seaside suburbs of a good sized city.

The trip involved (short) waits for both a swing and a bascule bridge and dodging a freighter as we crossed the shipping channel in Charleston harbor. Our "welcoming committee" was a flock of pelicans and a pod of dolphins, the former floating and the latter feeding in the warm still waters of the harbor.

Swing bridge opening for us -- feels very "special" to have them open a bridge just for you :-)

Coming into Charleston harbor

Part of "My Weigh's" welcoming committee

Walking on water to take off -- ungainly to watch but graceful once aloft 

We took a slip at the Charleston City Marina -- our neighbors included a couple of Mega-yachts -- we had inadvertently stumbled into "lifestyles of the rich and famous"(but of course, we are neither :-)

The sun was shining -- a brutally hot day, the heat index hit 111 in the afternoon. We immediately hooked up shore power and got the A.C running, so the boat became a safe haven for us. After grabbing some lunch on board, we decided to spend the afternoon doing some chores and leave the touring till tomorrow.

On my to-do list was to diagnose a problem with the electric hatch -- it had refused to come up after our swim the previous evening. After making some voltage measurements and fiddling with its up/down switch, I discovered that the motor and gear mechanism was fine -- I could get the door to go up and down by swapping wires on the switch -- it appeared that the switch itself might be bad. Fortunately, our "high end" marina had a parts shed, and while they didn't have the switch on hand, they offered to get it to me by late afternoon -- pretty nifty service.

Of course the switch arrived, I hooked it up and alas, the problem persisted. I will need an email consult with Tartan to figure out what is wrong.

We were both pretty worn out from the chores and the heat so we  stayed in our air conditioned home for the evening -- among other things, we watched the first episode of "Orange is the New Black" on Netflix -- great show.

Whiteside Creek, SC

Today's goal is to do at least 35 miles, half the distance to Charleston -- we both were looking forward to seeing the city and I was going to have lunch with a college fraternity brother who lives there and whom I hadn't seen for 20 years.

It was sunny and another "heat advisory" day -- the heat index was expected to get over 110. Worse yet, there wasn't much of a breeze, so while we were moving, the heat was tolerable, but once we stopped ...,  well, needless to say, we were hoping for a strong breeze that night :-)

The route through South Carolina thus far had been either through highly developed areas like Myrtle Beach or along inland rivers lined by quiet wooded areas. Just south of Georgetown, however, the landscape changes dramatically. The Intercoastal  marches through a series of rivers, cuts and sounds that are predominantly salt marsh and largely uninhabited.

Apart from birds, the most visible wildlife in the salt marshes are dolphins -- we saw many pods feeding in the Intercoastal over the course of the day. At one point,  one individual decided to "run" with My Weigh. Now, it is quite common for dolphins to ride in the bow wave of a boat. sometimes jumping up and out of the water -- it's an amazing site to watch and they look like they are having great fun. Once, in the Sea of Cortez on a charter, we had dolphins run 20 minutes with us -- fabulous.

This guy was a little different -- he chose to run at the stern of the boat -- he would briefly surface right next to the helm, then go down and swim along with us. The water was a bit murky so sometimes you could see him and sometimes you couldn't. He did this for about 10 minutes, coming up a handful of times. When he would surface, you could see his whole whole body, including the blowhole and nose, quite a sight although sadly, I was not fast enough to get a picture of it.

It's hard to get a picture  of anything but the dorsal fin :-(

The trip also had more than its fair share of shallows -- the Intercoastal is full of what the guides call "trouble spots" -- places where shoaling recurs no matter how much dredging the Army's Corps of Engineers does. These occurred at a number of the inlets that we traversed in North Carolina -- for the most part, they hadn't really interfered with our forward progress -- the waters would shallow, we would slow down and pick our way through, even bumping bottom a time or two, but you were through it and on your way in a few minutes.

Today was different -- we happened to hit a 4 mile stretch of "shifting shoal" waters between two marshy islands at dead low tide -- we were forced to pick our way through, steering back and forth looking for "deeper" water all the time (we never saw more than 6 feet). For a while, we were both incredulous, thinking that we had somehow made a wrong turn and wandered out of the Intercoastal -- but multiple checks verified we were right where we were supposed to be -- deep in the heart of a trouble spot. It took almost 1.5 hours put it behind us; we did run aground twice, but managed to get off quickly both times.

Our anchorage for the evening was a creek in the salt marsh just off the Intercoastal -- we were surrounded by fields of low, "wheat-like" grass as far as the eye could see -- not a tree or home or any sign of human habitation anywhere in sight. The waters were crystal clear; we could see a couple of dolphins feeding in the creek perhaps 30 yards behind the boat. We took a swim, half hoping that they would come and investigate us (the other half wondering whether all dolphins are really as friendly as Flipper :-) -- they never did.

The anchorage also had a nice breeze, which offered great relief from the heat while you were on deck -- unfortunately, it also had a strong current, so strong that it oriented the boat's hatches away from the breeze. Since we didn't have any wind scoops on board, there was no way to channel the breeze below (note to self: get some scoops). We thought about sleeping on deck, but quickly discarded that idea when the gnats showed up at dusk. We had no choice but to put up our shields and sleep below. We suffered through a very uncomfortable, hot and sticky few hours until the current flipped direction (the tide was going out) and the hatches came into the breeze -- sleeping was no problem from that point on.

A salt march sunset .......

...... and its afterglow

Harborwalk Marina, Georgetrown

Our goal for today is to make Georgetown, the largest town between Myrtle Beach and Charleston. Perhaps 35 miles south, it was a center for rice commerce in the heyday of the Plantation economy. In the early 20th century, it re-invented itself as a manufactirung center for paper and steel. Indeed, I remember stopping in Georgetown over 20 years ago on my way to Charleston; it was a grungy place whose skyline was dominated by a dirty steel mill and the smell of the paper mill was everywhere.

Smoke from the Papermill

The guidebooks all said that Georgetown had again re-invented itself -- the steel company went bankrupt, its mill closed; the paper mill still  operated and the smell was still there "if the wind was in the wrong direction". However, the waterfront district had been transformed into a tourist attraction with a "harborwalk" along the waterfornt, many shops and boutiques along the adjacent main street and a "Rice Museum" -- had the potential for an interesting visit.

The day was sunny and "heat-advisory" hot, heat indexes were expected to be in the 105-110 area, but we had a nice cool SW breeze as we motored our way down the Wacamaw river. We caught a friendly current and were able to do over 6 knots all the way. Eventually we arrived at the junction of the Wacamaw and Pee Dee rivers, where Georgtown is located and where both rivers flow into Wynah Bay and the Ocean.

Scenes along the Wacamaw River:

Then river is wide and navigable leading to some surprising sights so far inland

An osprey resting after breakfast (or perhaps looking for lunch)

Cedars with another empty next

Tree and sign; topiary eagle in profile

Driftwood in the making

Spanish moss is everywhere in the low country

Given the heat, we chose to take a slip so we could use the A/C and escape it for an evening. Oh, and being in town means "grocery run exercise" :-)

 The 1.5 mile walk to the Piggly Wiggly confirmed the guidebooks; the waterfornt area was thriving -- shops everywhere with very few "empty" storefronts -- much larger and healthier than either Elizabeth City or Belhaven seemed to us. Situated a few blocks awy from the waterfront, the town had cleverly built a very high (15-20') fence around the abandoned steel mill, rendering it largely "invisible" for a pedestrian. There was a light paper mill smell in the air, not at all unpleasant. Of course, not all was rosy -- on the way back we walked through a neighborhood adjacent to the harbor district with some large, neglected homes -- the tourist trade hadn't yet revived the real estate market away from the waterfront, but all in all, the town had a positive feel to it.

Georgetown remembers a police chief -- the last line says it all

We weren't in a mood to do much touring (too hot), so we passed on the rice museum (although we did stop at a furniture store to look at some different "lanai" furniture and had the "mandatory" ice cream on a hot day). We also contributed to the revival of the town by having dinner at a waterfront restaurant, including trying some local specialities: a Black-eyed Pea cake appetizer and Collard Greens veggie with our Seafood Casserole -- all were very tasty.

Our dinner restaurant

Waccamaw River Oxbow, Waccamaw River, SC

We awoke to yet another bright, sunny day -- it had been a quiet night despite the sky histrionics we watched the previous evening.

Today we would transit the Pine Island Cut and the Rockpile -- we were nervous but determined to pay careful attention and avoid any contact with the rock ledges.

We pulled up anchor and took off into a foul current -- it was dead against us and strong -- initial forward progress was mostly in the mid 3's, i.e., very slow. As it turned out, we were unwittingly riding just behind the high-to-low tidal bore and would be motoring into the current for the entire trip through the cut. Well, at least we wouldn't hit a rock at 7 knots, although even at 3, kissing a ledge would do some damage :-)

We saw multiple Casino boats on the Calabash River; they use the cut to go beyond the 3-mile limit.

The entrance to the cut was about 5 miles from our anchorages, so it took what seemed like forever to get there. The cut itself turned out to be no problem to navigate -- it was wider than we had imagined (i.e., but still narrow), straight as an arrow and deep (13') all the way. Even the Rock Pile, although very narrow, was no problem as long as there were no barges coming at you (we did do the radio call before entering to make sure that there was nothing coming at us.)

The cut had three swing bridges in it -- fortunately, they were all "open-on-demand" bridges -- i.e., you wouldn't have to wait as long as you called them sufficiently ahead of time. This made sense as there is not a lot of "extra" room, so circling while you were waiting would be very restricted.

Swing bridge in the cut

Finally, the cut slices through the "Grand Strand", a highly developed region of shopping malls, restaurants, golf courses, resorts and beaches -- Myrtle Beach is the main town. You can't see much of it from the cut because its banks are pretty high. but you know it is there -- in many places banks are lined with the McMansions the people who come to play. Barefoot Landing, a huge outlet mall on the strand, has its own swing bridge and marina right on the Intercoastal -- pretty impressive.

Condos abound in the Grand Strand, ...

also, McMansions galore .....

Unfortunately, these noisy guys were also buzzing around everywhere

But I have to admit, it looks like (and is -- I have done it!) fun :-)

The cut ends in the Wacamaw River, which meanders through the Northern part of South Carolina's "low country". Plantations were the main source of income in this region in the 18th and 19th centuries, but that economy collapsed with the abolition of slavery.

Our anchorage for the evening was an Oxbow in the Wacamaw river, a few miles south of the cut; behind an Island and out of the Intercoastal, it was a quiet place with room for a few boats -- we were alone.  We took a swim in the tea colored water and hung out, glad to have the cut and the rock pile behind us. We did get one squall that came through and cleaned the decks, but we otherwise had a dry, but hot evening.

Reflections in our anchorage ...

It was a very serene place

In morning light the next day -- just lovel