Carolina in the Morning

 

Nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina in the morning
No one could be sweeter than my sweetie when I meet her in the morning
Where the morning glories twine around the door
Whispering pretty stories I long to hear once more

 

 

 

 

We awoke at 0630 on Tuesday.  I knew it was 0630 without looking at a clock because the sun was reaching into the portals over our bunk and burning through my eyelids, declaring a new day.  Finally we were going to leave Oriental, North Carolina.  After 11 days spent repairing both engines, propeller shaft, fixing propellers, and repainting the bottom  the boat work is done.  Now, we have a lot of time to make up.  Leaving early brings the beauty of a sunrise over the water.  It is a marvelous way to start a long day, where we will motor for 8 hours to make a small town called Swansboro by nightfall.  On the southern shore of the Neuse River we entered Adams creek and then into a man-made canal that emptied out into the beautiful Bogue Sound.  We had finally arrived in coastal Carolina. The mainland is to our right and beautiful barrier islands frosted by the green and gold tipped marsh grass are on our left as far as the eye can see.  Now we are surrounded by pelicans and even enjoy the occasional dolphin sightings.  Unfortunately, we seem to always miss the photo opportunity.  Luckily, we expect that we will have many more opportunities in the near future.  We made our goal Tuesday of Swansboro.  It is a nice small village, but big enough to have its own grocery store along with many antique and craft shops, and even an ice cream parlor.  We watched the sunset from a gentle porch swing placed in the waterfront park.    

 

 

Some could think that miles and miles of salt marsh would be tedium, like the corn fields of Nebraska, but not so.  There is really a lot of activity if you look for it; the blue heron fishing in its stealth like pose.  The pelican dive bombing the fish, hitting the water with a tremendous splash.  And of course the gray tailed F-16 Harrier jet as it fly’s “touch and go” exercises at Camp Lejunne.  Yes, the Intercoastal Waterway goes right through the Marine base.  And oh, by the way, you can’t float through if they happen to be taking target practice.  But they were not shooting at things as we passed the camp, they were flying very large, very loud aircraft that take off and land like helicopters, but fly like fighter jets.  It is totally weird when you watch them hover unmoving in mid air. 

 

 

We spent a wet Wednesday waiting out lousy weather after meeting a friend for wine and chili in Wrightsville Beach.  But there was a small craft advisory Thursday.  So we made the decision not to try to cross the Cape Fear River in winds greater than 25 mph and waves of 5-7 feet.  We stopped at a small N.C. state park called Carolina Beach and hiked through the 5 different types of coastal Carolina habitat.  We were actually in search of the elusive carnivore, the Venus Fly Trap, which grows wild in the Carolina swamps – who knew…  we found none, but it was a delightful way to pass an afternoon.

The next morning we were up literally before the sun.  The tide had been at the high point at 0300 am, and we had to ride across the Cape Fear River as the tide was going back out, because it was so strong it would take us twice as long to cross the river against the current.  So by 0630, we were on the river and on our second cup of coffee.  But it was entirely worth it.  The ride across the river was swift and beautiful as the sun came up over the barrier islands.  The trip from Carolina beach to Myrtle Beach was unique in that we were surrounded by herons, pelicans, dolphins (still no pictures – they are apparently camera shy), and even bald eagles.  But the most surprising was the wild goats.  I’m not really used to seeing goats standing on a deserted beach eating the sea grasses.  This leg of the trip through the low-country was also made more challenging by the multiple inlets running from the ocean to the Intercoastal Waterway.  With each inlet you would dramatically change speed as you approached depending on if the tide was running in or out.  Then as you reached the other side of the inlet your speed would do the exactly opposite as on the approach.  And all of the speed issues were complicated by the fact that this fast moving water tends to move the sand underneath, creating sandbars hidden just under the surface, waiting to stop a deep keel boat in its tracks.  We were behind one sailboat that requires about 5 feet of water for their keel, when they ran aground very hard.  They were able to radio back to us, and luckily, Bob had read the warnings on the internet about this particular area, and was able to talk them back off the sand bar.  I think it shot their confidence, hopefully not their keel, because they pulled over at the next marina.  We have met many boaters who have hit both moving and immovable objects in the waterway.  It is one of the greatest challenges a boater faces on the ICW.