James River cruise

We are upbound on the James River, headed for the town of Hopewell, Virginia. This morning found us anchored in Cobham Bay, adjacent to the nuclear power plant, where the condenser outflow added ten degrees to the water temperature and kept us comfortable on an otherwise chilly night.

When I posted from our early stop on the North River on Saturday, I was eager to get the blog posted as already written. What I did not mention in that post was that we were barely two hours out of the boatyard when Louise asked "what's that rattle?" The deaf guy, of course, detected no rattle until it was pointed out. We spent a half hour underway changing rpms and shifting in and out of gear until we recognized it as the death knell of the transmission damper plate.

Vector in her element at High Street, Portsmouth.

Long-time readers will know we've been through this before, and I wrote up the replacement process in this post six years ago. That damper went out right at 5,000 hours, and we just rolled past 10,000 a couple of months ago, so the folklore that these last about 5,000 hours is dead-on. One thing we knew from that experience is that our damper is fail-safe and we could safely continue at our normal horsepower, which is quite low. We've eliminated the daily 80% power run-up and I am watching my maneuvering rpms.

The replacement can be done in the water, but pushing the shaft back into place and re-aligning the line cutters would have been easier while we were still on the hard. Oh well; we'll have to get a diver to do the line cutters, just like last time. I spent most of Saturday afternoon trying to source a replacement damper plate and refreshing my memory on what was involved in the process. I found a brand new damper plate in stock at the distributor in Oxnard, California, but of course I could not make calls regarding shipping until Tuesday.

We had a spectacular sunset from our anchorage on the North River.

Our plan before this event had been to continue to Hampton Roads and take the first outside weather window to jump around the Delmarva peninsula to New Jersey. That plan was now at least on hold, if not out altogether in favor of the Chesapeake Bay route. In the meantime, out friends Dave and Stacey have been tempting us to Hopewell, where Dave has the proverbial boatload of exactly the epoxy I need to fix the granite counter crack I mentioned in the last post. Not to mention a $15/day dock where we might do some of the work.

Of course, we always love to see Stacey and Dave anyway, and we can usually count on some of Dave's wonderful home cooking during the course of a visit. It's a 100+ mile detour to our already somewhat delayed northing plans, so the epoxy and the inexpensive dock were just the final sweetener on the deal. We also hoped we might connect with our friends Steve and Sandy, who live near Richmond, as long as we're up here.

Vector was all alone at the bulkhead in Great Bridge. Two boats were at the wood docks on the other side of the bridge, including our friends on Calypso.

After I was done scouring the 'net for dampers and redoing the routes to take us up the James, we had a nice dinner on board and a quiet night. A couple of other boats pulled off-channel near us for the night. We kept the boat pretty well buttoned up and dark, as we have entered midge season.

Sunday morning we weighed anchor based on timing the gantlet of Chesapeake bridges, and immediately found ourselves in the middle of a northbound conga line. In short order we were overtaken by a gaggle of motor yachts and sportfishers, and even a tugboat towing, I kid you not, one of those tourist jet boats. By the time we passed through Coinjock most of the boats that had passed us a day earlier were already gone. I did notice that they have renovated much of the face dock at the old Midway marina across the canal, where we stayed on our first time through.

When I saw this new venue for Vino my heart sank. I figured it meant the end of the one near the dock.

We did a pretty good job timing our departure and were only a few minutes early for the North Landing Bridge. Then we slow-rolled all the way to Great Bridge, with a full 90 minutes to close just seven miles. This is a luxury afforded us only on the weekends, when the Centerville Turnpike bridge is on demand. Several motor yachts, who did not get the memo about bridge schedules, overtook us in a huff and then spent a half hour or so station-keep for the Great Bridge Bridge. A couple tied to the park docks to wait it out, then insisted on crowding into us when the bridge opened.

As soon as we cleared the bridge we tied to our usual spot on the Great Bridge bulkhead (map). We had the whole bulkhead to ourselves, and, unusually so, we were alone there all night. I relaxed for a few minutes after we were tied up, but then I had to dive right in to the errands we had scheduled here, starting with a mile-and-a-half hike out to the Amazon locker. The much closer Amazon locker, in the Rite-Aid, is closed due to the imminent closure of the store as part of the bankruptcy.

The tail end of the Memorial Day parade going by across the basin as we tied up.

On the way to the locker, and nearly the whole way there, I passed by a brand new Vino restaurant, which looked to be mere hours from opening for business. Our plan had been to eat at the Vino right next to the dock, which Google and their own web site had said was open, and which looked no different when I passed it, but after spotting the new store I learned the dockside location was closed for good. Drats.

On the way back to the boat I made a provisioning stop at the Kroger supermarket and the Dollar Tree store. When I passed the old Vino again just before getting home, there were trucks outside loading up fixtures to move.  This is the second time a favorite eatery near these docks has closed up; Vino had become our new go-to after our long-time favorite El Toro Loco was forced to move a few years ago.

All secure. Our ensign is at half staff until noon.

By the time we had all the provisions stowed it was time to go to dinner. With Vino gone we fell to one of our long-time backup options, the Lockside Bar & Grill across the canal. Fortunately, it's on the correct side of Battlefield Boulevard, which is so difficult to cross that we've been known to wait for the bridge lift to cross the street. The food is decent and they have some nice drafts. It was a long driving day with a big walk and I pretty much collapsed after dinner and turned in early.

While we had a short day Monday, we needed to get an early start to have slack tide when we reached the Top Rack Marina, where the docks are perpendicular to the current. So we dropped lines to make the 9 o'clock lockage, after first hoisting the ensign to half staff for Memorial Day. We were secured in the lock in plenty of time to watch the conga line of boats come through the 9 am bridge lift and then enter the lock with varying degrees of skill, our morning entertainment.

In a decade we have yet to try this restored theater, where you can order dinner and wine with your flick. This movie was tempting, but I had too much to do in our single evening.

We arrived at Top Rack mostly at slack water as planned, and had no trouble tying up. This is mostly a dry stack marina, and Memorial Day would normally be very busy, and they staffed accordingly. Today, however, was rainy, windy, and cold, and the place was dead. Consequently we got both dockhands, bored to tears, down at the dock to help with our ten-dollar pump-out. Normally we are here for an hour fueling up, but we are still mostly full from the cheap stop in Fernandina Beach.

The early start and short service stop had us arriving to High Street Landing in Portsmouth before lunch. We were a bit worried that we'd arrive to find the landing busy with the annual Memorial Day celebration, and were prepared to continue to the anchorage to avoid disturbing it, but the city has instead returned to the traditional parade, and as we were tying up we caught the last ten minutes of the parade coming down High Street and turning onto Water Street. The inside bulkhead was occupied and so we tied on the outside (map), rather than risk damage at the wood docks from the low pilings and the water coming over the docks.

Marine patrol towing in a log. You can barely see it below the surface.

After lunch we briefly thought the jig was up, as we watched the Portsmouth PD marine patrol boat approaching us from the river, lights blazing. You can't park there, mate. Just before reaching our stern they turned into the basin, and we could see they were towing something. That turned out to be an enormous log they had found in the river, and they struggled to get it alongside the dock. I went over to lend a hand, but even three of us could not lift it from the water, so they tied it to a piling. I suggested I could get it out of the basin at high tide when the water would be well over the dock, and Sergeant McGee gave me his card. I took a nice stroll around town.

With several places dark on Monday, we walked to the Old Towne Public House for dinner. We've walked out of this place in the past because it can get very noisy, but tonight was fine and they had decent food and some nice drafts. At 9pm or so I went outside in my watermen's boots and was able to wrestle the errant log up onto dry concrete, texting a photo to the good Sergeant and calling it done.

I was able to float it across the awash docks and lever it onto the concrete at high tide.

Yesterday morning we took a quick walk in our only chance to get off the boat, then dropped lines at 8:30 to have a fair tide on the James. That meant pushing against some flood on the Elizabeth, but at least the harbor traffic was at a low simmer. I did have to drive over a dredge pipe as I made my turn past Craney Island, but the leverman was very responsive and said we'd have no trouble with it.

As we crossed the Middle Ground we passed an anchored tug and barge that I noticed right away because it had a distinct color on the chart. It was the boat our friend Tim was skippering up until his retirement just a couple of weeks ago. Regular readers may know we tied up to that tug in NY harbor last year for a quick visit. Tim and his lovely fiancé are sailing across the Atlantic, halfway to the Azores now, and you can follow them at svPaquita on YouTube.

This nice park in Old Towne has a modern play structure, but they still found a way to hang an honest rope swing from the old tree.

Coming into the James we were following a bulker, Lefkes, upriver, and we could see the James River lift bridge open for her. Louise pulled her up on AIS and said she was bound for USHPW and wondered where that was. I knew immediately, because I had entered it in our own AIS when we left the dock -- she was bound for Hopewell, just like us.

We had a fine trip upriver, passing the Newport News shipyard, the lift bridge, and the James River ghost fleet. After lunch I called the parts distributor in Oxnard to confirm they had a damper plate and to get the skinny on shipping. That turned out to be via FedEx ground, and Louise and I spent some time figuring out where we could get a FedEx delivery about a week out.

Still there in the daylight, this shot shows how difficult it would be to remove at this tide level.

One option would have been to have it sent to Hopewell, where we have inexpensive dockage. But that would have us there well over a week, and there are not a lot of resources outside of myself and Dave should anything go sideways with the project. If we should end up needing a yard or haulout it would be a very long tow.

After a lot of back and forth, we decided to book a night at the city dock in downtown Hampton. Long-time readers may remember we spent a week there while we had the steering rams rebuilt, so it's a familiar place and I know I can get most anything I need with a short scooter ride. Should things go pear-shaped, the Bluewater Yacht boatyard is right next door. We booked an arrival of Tuesday to coincide with when we think the damper will arrive, and then I ordered the damper plate.

A follower snapped this shot of us on our way out of Portsmouth, with Norfolk in the background. Photo: Russ Dykstra

We had following current all the way from Hampton Roads, and I would have run another hour or so upriver past slack. The forecast, however, was calling for 30 mph winds out of the east to southeast overnight, which sent us to the chart to look for an anchorage with enough protection in that direction.

That turned out to be the aforementioned Cobham Bay, adjacent to Hog Point and the Surry nuclear power plant, where we dropped the hook just upriver of the plant's canal (map). This plant pulls its cooling water from downriver using giant pumps, then discharges it upriver into the bay. Other than the hum of the plant, it was quiet, and mostly dark, with just a skyward glow from the plant that was behind a thick cover of trees.

USS John F Kennedy still under construction, and USS Enterprise being dismantled. I took the same photo five years ago and they don't look much different today.

This morning we waited until 10:30 to weigh anchor, to have a fair tide upriver. I hoped that start time would also put us into Hopewell toward the end of the flood, with slack water giving us the option to dock in either direction. It was not to be; the flood has been stronger than the NOAA tables predicted, and we've been racing upriver all day, with a projected arrival a full hour before slack. We left in limited visibility in misty rain, but things have been improving all day.

Update: We are now docked at the city marina in Hopewell (map). We made such good time that I had to set the blog aside unfinished to navigate the last few miles of the James and the turn into the Appomattox. As we approached the turn, so did the tug Jeanie Clay from the other direction, pushing an empty scow, and we held back and followed him upriver.

Lefkes at the pier in Hopewell as we approach the Appomattox. We started upriver right behind her but she arrived a full day ahead of us. 

Dave, Stacey, and dockmaster Billy met us on the face dock as we spun around and came alongside, and we were all tied up, secured, and plugged in by 4pm. We headed right over to Stinkpot to catch up, collect our mail that we had sent here, and steal Dave's epoxy supply. And then in honor of National Hamburger Day (really), Dave drove us to the local burger bar, Carr Brothers, for excellent burgers and a few beers.

Tomorrow I will get started on fixing the counter top, and trying to collect all the supplies I will need for the damper plate replacement, including fresh bolts and some very specific grease for the shaft splines. I've asked the Hampton marina if they have a list of divers to deal with the line cutters, and I am also looking for an able assistant to help me muscle the tranny around.

Back on track

We are underway northbound across the Albemarle Sound as I begin typing, headed back to the ICW after a week in the boatyard in Wanchese, North Carolina. We'll likely end our day somewhere in the North River.

Hauling out at Safe Harbor OBX in Wanchese.

We were quite comfortable in our anchorage between the islands last week, even though shortly after I posted, we were hit with quite the storm. We had 30 mph winds most of the evening and overnight, and on the flood we sat at right angles to our own chain. The lightning and much of the rain mostly missed us, but actually hit Wanchese with a vengeance, even sending a small tornado through town. We were very glad we stopped early. We had a nice view of Oregon Inlet and Bodie Island Light.

This enormous and violent storm cell skirted just north of us and is hitting Wanchese in this photo.

Friday we had an easy morning, weighing anchor before lunch to make the last several miles to Wanchese Harbor. We had accurate surveys the whole way, although two tugboats going the other way took their half out of the middle and ran us right to the edge of the channel. At some point in the morning the light was just right for Louise to notice we've developed a crack in our granite countertop, so I have another project on my list now.

Hairline crack in the granite extends from the mid-sink seam at left all the way to several inches past the sink off-frame to the right.

We were tied up at the waiting dock for the Safe Harbor OBX boatyard (map) before lunch. The dock had only a 100a pedestal, but the yard found a 100' extension cord to get us power from an outlet on the quay. I spent the afternoon working on how to repair the granite, and, with Louise still feeling a bit under the weather, we just walked over to the on-site Tiki Hut at dinner time for a draft beer and dinner from the adjacent Johanna's food truck.

This little sign is the only indication there's a bar on premise. I think the Safe Harbor logo, which is an S and H superimposed in what is supposed to look like a helm, always looks to me like a 45rpm adapter. I'm old.

Saturday the yard was quiet, and we offloaded the scooters. Louise did several loads of laundry, and I set off for Manteo to get the lay of the land. I arrived at the waterfront just as the Saturday crafts market was wrapping up in the park. I did a quick walking tour of our dining options, the docks, dinghy landing, and town in general. On my way out I did a quick circuit of Festival Island Park before heading to the Ace Hardware for clamps and glue for the granite repair as well as the Piggly Wiggly for some much needed provisions. It was quite windy on my ride and walk.

Manteo Downtown Market in George Washington Creef Park.

After returning home I walked the marina complex, finding the little marina store to be well-stocked with snacks, sandwiches, and cold beer, among other things. At dinner time we returned together to Manteo, about a 15-minute scooter ride, for dinner at Poor Richard's Sandwich Shop. It was decent, but aptly named, as sandwiches are pretty much what they have. After dinner we strolled the waterfront a bit in this quaint tourist town.

Replica of the Roanoke Marshes lighthouse on the Manteo waterfront. Closed for renovation.

Louise had already turned in for the night when I heard the news about the allision of ARM Cuauhtémoc with the Brooklyn Bridge. Of course all I could do the rest of the evening was to follow the coverage and glean information about the incident. That and watch social media boil over with rampant misinformation and racism.

We had a view of this rack of buoys at the CG Aid to Navigation station from both the dock and the hardstand, and they blinked all night. You can see the reflection of one of the red lights on the building. That's the CG buoy tender at right.

With nothing on the books Sunday, in the morning we rode out to the North Carolina Aquarium, next to the airport and about as far away from Wanchese as one can get and still be on the island. It was a very nice aquarium, well-kept and with a turtle rescue to visit as well. We spent a good hour before coming home, stopping for brunch en route at TL's Family Restaurant, which was good.

Louise admires a turtle.

By evening Louise was again feeling crummy, and it was all she could do to finish up the laundry before the haul-out, when we can't use the washer. I spent the afternoon making ready for the haul-out and doing more research on granite repair, where opinions and speculation are much easier to find than hard facts and data. Louise was not up to another Manteo trip, and with the Tiki Hut and food truck dark, I picked up sandwiches at the marina store for dinner. Store manager Holly was kind enough to make me another sandwich after I took the last one from the case.

It was froggy that day.

Although we were ready first thing, they did not end up putting us in the lift until 10:30 on Monday. That had us out of the water and hanging in the slings over lunch time after pressure washing, and unable to get back on board, we ended up with another sandwich from the marina store for lunch. Shortly after lunch time they had us blocked, but we were pretty nose high and a bit over to starboard -- they haul mostly sport fishers here and I don't think the lift guys really knew how to level a trawler.

Vector in the wash rack. Most of our outermost layer of black paint is gone, exposing the layer of red.

Leo and Ryan got started right away on the stabilizers. I had to lend them the removal tool and explain the process, but the fins came off with no issues and the fins and shafts looked good. This yard has never serviced Naiads before, so I sat with them and explained the seal removal process and how the new parts were to go in. Only a tablespoon or so of water came out on each side, and while some of the grease showed the tell-tale black color of water intrusion, most of what came out was still white, and we determined there was no water in the bearing cavity.

The seals that were installed at Derekctor 19 months ago. They look fine, but we had to check when the port fin started squealing. The squeal is most likely from the actuator. These two are the starboard seals.

Next ensued something of a fire drill, as the yard did not have the specified grease on hand, even though I had sent them the spec ahead of time. There was none to be found within a day or two, so we checked with Naiad about substitutions. I had something close on hand, and since we were not packing bearings but just lubricating the seals, that's what we used. When the seals were done and the fins ready to go back on, we had a repeat scenario with the anti-seize for the fin bolts, which Naiad insists be marine-grade. I rode all over the island on my scooter looking for the stuff, and ultimately the yard hard to order it from McMaster-Carr.

My fin removal tool. The coupler in the middle was so that it could be shipped to me, and I stow it in two pieces.

Louise was feeling a little better, and at dinner time we rode into Manteo and ate the the Lost Colony Tavern, which is the tourist-trap restaurant to go with the quaint tourist town. It is also the taproom for the eponymous microbrewery, and while the food was OK, I found the beer disappointing. I also bought some of their other brews in the grocery store, also disappointing.

Out at the street this "day beacon" marks the USCG Wanchese Aid to Navigation station.

The nose-up aspect of our blocking was bad enough that Louise made the bed backwards and we slept with our heads at the foot of the bed. We also minimized our water use to avoid putting too much wash water on the ground, as this is not really a live-aboard facility. We otherwise had a peaceful night, and were up early for the 7:30am yard opening.

In addition to nose-high, this is how far out of level we were blocked side-to-side.

When I first called the yard about doing the seals, I also asked them to get paint to do a coat on the bottom. We use ship antifouling instead of a yacht product, and the yard had trouble finding it, but by the end of the day Monday they had located some that they could fetch on Tuesday, so Tuesday morning the paint crew started sanding and priming all the bad spots where we had spots of bare metal starting to show through. They found quite a few, and by the end of the day the hull was a patchwork of primer spots.

Quite a few areas had to be sanded down to bare steel and prepped.

I, meanwhile, did a couple of small projects on board, and worked on routes for whenever we wrapped up in the yard. Louise was again feeling better, and at dinner time we rode into Manteo for dinner at Olive's, a Mediterranean place near the waterfront, which was pretty good. We again strolled after dinner through a quiet town.

Commercial Use Only. Shhh... don't tell AkzoNobel.

Wednesday morning the yard had a 5-gallon pail of the correct paint in hand, and I gave them a rattle can of the Rustoleum Cold Galvanizing Compund that I had picked up at Ace for the propeller. I had them open up the sea chest to clean it up and paint inside as well. They wrapped up painting mid-afternoon, but the paint needs a full eight hours before going in the water. The anti-seize for the fin bolts also arrived too late in the day to finish that. I did have them replace the anode on the line cutter with my spare, as it was pretty far gone. We just walked over to the Tiki Hut for dinner.

The unobtainium marine-grade anti-seize. We now own this jar.

Thursday was splash day, and first thing I had them move the jack stands to paint under them. I helped Leo and Ryan get the fins lined up and bolted back on, although there was a mad scramble as their big torque wrench was not working and final torque had to wait until they could borrow one from another shop. The bolts are torqued to 300 foot-pounds. I safety-wired the sea chest bolts.

This line-up of boats near the dry stack is the quintessence of what this marina is about.

I had asked the yard to keep us out of the water until the paint where the stands were had at least four hours, and so the lift picked us up at 3pm, just an hour before closing. We were looking forward to sleeping the right way in the bed and being able to use all the water we wanted, but, alas, it was not to be. Several of the jack stands took the fresh paint right off, and in two places, enough of the old paint came with it to expose more metal.

Bottom painted and fins on, ready for launch.

They were able to sand it and get some primer on it before quitting time, and I told the paint supervisor I would put bottom paint on all the spots after dinner. The yard manager had a mad scramble, as the lift was booked all day Friday for the holiday rush, but we agreed we'd spend the night in the slings and splash first thing in the morning.

Not much of a view from the flybridge overnight. I had to loosen the string of lights to fit in the lift.

We rode back into Manteo for dinner at Ortega'z Southwestern Grill and Wine Bar downtown. When we got home I painted all the damaged spots, and I was even able to use some of the leftover primer, still workable, to touch up a couple of rust spots topside. We had to sleep backwards again, since they rested us back on the blocks in the slings.

When your tiki bar is in a boatyard, you borrow the forklift to fix the chandelier.

Yesterday morning they lifted us right at 8, slapped some paint where the blocks had been, and put us in the water, just ahead of splashing a new-build sportfish that arrived on a trailer from one of the several builders on the island. We had missed our tide window to leave, so we just headed right back to the waiting dock for one final night, and many thanks to yard manager Rob for accommodating us. It was nice to have a day of downtime at the dock without waiting for anything to happen.

Heading back to the water.

Last night we went back to Manteo for one final meal, at Firetender Restaurant on the main road. This is also the taproom for the Weeping Radish microbrewery, North Carolina's oldest, and their beers were quite good. It was half-price flight night and we each had a flight to sample the whole range; I particularly liked the Black Radish schwarzbier. On the way home we made a quick stop at the Food-a-Rama for last-minute provisions, and we decked the scooters when we got home. We could hear the first live music of the season wafting over from the Tiki Hut.

With a free day yesterday I rode out to the Fort Raleigh National Historic Site. These are the excavated remains of the fort.

This morning after a final walk we dropped lines right at 8am for high tide. The tide here is just six inches, but we needed every one of them, plus a favorable wind. The stretch of the Roanoke Sound Channel between Shallowbag Bay, in Manteo, and the open water of Roanoke Sound is surveyed at just 6.5', and even at high tide we saw a least depth of 6.3', or just four inches of water under our skeg. I had consulted with one of the charter captains earlier in the week and gotten an update and advice that gave us some confidence to take the route.

We had a couple of nice sunsets in the harbor. That's the charter sportfishing fleet at right.

Update: We are anchored in a familiar spot in the North River (map). This is really the last decent anchorage before the Coinjock Cut and Currituck sound, so we had to make it a relatively short day and dropped the hook right around 1:30. Tomorrow we will be in Great Bridge, where we have packages waiting at the Amazon locker.

OBX

We are underway across Pamlico Sound, headed for the Old House Channel and Wanchese, where we will have the stabilizers serviced. The yard probably can't start until Monday, but today's the window to cross the sound. It's a long day -- there are no decent anchorages between Ocracoke and Roanoke Island.

Vector steaming toward the Cape Fear River. Photo: Bill Parks

When last I posted I was just an hour and a half into my 2000-0300 watch offshore of Cape Romaine. The rest of the passage was quiet and comfortable; neither of us saw any traffic at all. The ocean was calm when I posted, and got calmer through the night. The Starlink dropped out once we crossed the 12nm line, and I moved our AT&T hotspot up to the soft top to get better range.

This group of dolphins swam with us for over ten minutes on our passage.

Not long afterward, even that started fading in and out. Realizing that on the rhumb line to Cape Fear there would be no coverage at all when Louise came on watch, I adjusted course to bring us back in range for at least part of the trip, adding 3/4 of a mile to the crossing. We were in the countercurrent for most of the crossing of Long Bay, and we still had plenty of time to the Cape Fear channel when I came back on watch.

As we approached the inlet we were hailed by a motor yacht coming out, and that turned out to be our friend Bill on the Blue Merle II. He was coming out with a hired skipper on sea trials for a survey, so I am guessing they've had an offer on the boat.

The Blue Merle II. That's their dog in the graphic.

We arrived to the entrance more or less at max ebb, and it was an uphill fight to get in. But this was the calmest we'd ever seen this channel, and we just pulled off-channel at the first safe spot, right off Bald Head Light (map) and dropped a lunch hook to wait out the current. That spot had us seaward of the Bald Head harbor entrance and so we did not have the enormous wakes from the fast ferries that plague the more protected anchorage further in.

We both had good naps, and lunch, before slack tide arrived around 1:30 and we weighed anchor. Just as we were pulling back into the channel we were again passed by the Blue Merle. Bill offered to meet us for dinner in Wrightsville Beach, but we are always complete zombies the day we arrive from offshore, so we took a rain check. They keep the boat in Wilmington, which is a short drive from Wrightsville, and we had seen it in the harbor there when we stopped last season.

Our lunch hook spot to wait out the ebb. That's the Bald Head lighthouse, which I climbed when we stayed here a decade ago.

Now with the flood behind us we continued upriver to Snows Cut and thence to Carolina Beach and north to Wrightsville Beach. We had the hook down in our usual spot in Banks Channel (map) by 5:40, and immediately splashed the tender and headed ashore to Tower 7 Baja Grill for dinner. This is a popular joint, and if you're not in by 6 there will likely be a wait for a table.

After dinner we walked over to Robert's grocery for beer, but opted to wait on other provisions until I could walk to the Harris Teeter in the morning, when I would have just enough time before we got under way for Mile Hammock with the tide. On our way in we had noticed that the Blockade Runner hotel, a long-time fixture of the waterfront, is now a Marriott property called Trailborn, and I tried to learn if that meant they'd have a better restaurant or dinghy policy, but got nowhere.

Louise snapped this bald eagle on our way to Mile Hammock.

After returning home we discussed whether to stay an extra day. That would let us recover a bit more from the overnight passage and make my provisioning trek into town less rushed. The fact that I crashed into bed before midnight spoke in favor of the extra day, but we woke in the morning to some text messages that sealed the deal.

Our friends Tim and Crisálida had left Fort Lauderdale on Tuesday, bound for Norfolk in their sailboat, s/v Paquita. We, and they, expected them to be offshore the whole way, and we'd wave to them virtually as they sailed past us, but sometime after midnight, Tim texted me that they were coming in at Cape Fear. That would put them just a day behind us, but a short while later another text said they had changed course for Masonboro inlet instead. They'd be in the anchorage before we finished our morning coffee.

We watched them come in and get squared away, and before they turned in for the requisite post-passage nap, they invited us to dinner aboard. Now with a day off, I spent the morning wrapping up the plotter display repair, installing permanent 12v wiring to replace the jury-rig that had gotten us going on Wednesday morning. After lunch I made my pilgrimage to Harris Teeter by way of Beach Bagels, and later in the afternoon I went back ashore with the trash and for a nice walk all the way to the fishing pier and back.

Paquita, motoring up to Mile Hammock.

We headed over to Paquita a little before dinner time with a fresh salad in hand and a few beers. Tim fixed spatchcock chicken on his kamado grill, and we had a lovely evening over excellent food, way too much wine, good company, and lots of laughter. I only regret that none of us thought to take a photo the entire evening.

I half expected Paquita to go right back outside in the morning for the crossing of Onslow Bay, but the weather was too sloppy even for a sailboat (and way too sloppy for us), so they opted to take the ICW route. Tim was having trouble with both his depth sounder and his tablet app that shows the Army Corps of Engineers depth surveys, and they decided to just follow us out of the anchorage in the morning, across the tricky spot where the Motts Channel meets the ICW.

They ended up following us the whole way to Mile Hammock, which turned out to be a good thing when we had to pass an oncoming tug and barge that needed center-channel and took most of it. I was running well outside the marked channel using the survey data alone. Tim has since got his surveys working again. In addition to the barge, we had the usual amount of weekend traffic, but its manageable here, whereas in some places like SE Florida and Myrtle Beach it often keeps us in port until Monday.

A Camp Lejeune local caught Vector in the anchorage. Photo: Tommy Blanton 

We had the hook down in Mile Hammock Bay (map) on the Camp Lejeune marine corps base by 3pm, only the second boat to arrive. Tim had some electrical system issues just before arrival, but made it safely into the anchorage even though he had to drop anchor by gravity; we had rigged fenders in case they needed to raft to us.

I dropped the dink and headed over with my tool bag to assist. It turned out to be a wonky Perko battery switch -- Tim had already isolated the problem by the time I arrived. I could see the plastic case was slightly deformed from ohmic heating. I've taken these kinds of switches apart before to clean and grease contacts, but it involves drilling out rivets, and Tim opted to just order a replacement.

Tim caught us in his sunrise photo as they weighed anchor. Photo: Tim Boehmer

We spent about an hour digging through the panel and bypassing the switch (there is another switch closer to the batteries), removing some obsolete wires in the process. I left with homework to try to source a breaker to replace one that looked to me to be getting brittle. No sooner was I back at Vector than we turned right around for another delicious meal aboard Paquita, this time a pot roast that had been cooking all day, and another salad we brought with us. I'm really glad I scored the penultimate package of romaine at Harris Teeter.

It was really great to get to see them two nights in a row. Especially so because they will likely have already departed on their Atlantic crossing by the time we catch back up to their interim destination of Rhode Island. They will be doing the Atlantic Loop, crossing to the Med, spending a season there, then crossing back to the Caribbean. We will be following their journey with great interest. Once again, we forgot to snap a photo.

The lobby of the historic post office used to house the NPS visitor center for the Shackleford Banks. The Park Service closed up shop and now the building is just the Beaufort Town Hall, but the lobby is still open, with restrooms, and still sports many park posters and graphics.

Paquita left first thing in the morning, wanting to put as many miles behind them as possible. We had a more leisurely start, decking the tender and weighing anchor at 8:15 for the 9am bridge lift. It rained most of the day, and a mid-day thunderstorm brought us face to face with a boat anchored in the channel with its navigation lights on. It took us a while to understand he was anchored and not headed right for us on the wrong side of the road, and I gave him a lecture after we dodged around him. The thunderstorm ended up being a non-event.

We had the anchor down in Beaufort, in our secret spot crammed between a daybeacon and a range light (map), before 3pm. Louise was feeling crummy most of the day, with the beginnings of a bad cold, but she pulled herself together for dinner and we tendered ashore and walked to the Front Street Grill. This after first walking out of Black Sheep, which was packed with kids; we were halfway down the block before we realized it was Mothers' Day.

Beaufort has a new payment system for parking. And the rates went up. Dinghies are still free.

Front Street is a bit more upscale and spendy, so it was a more adult experience, and I had a very nice filet that was the day's special. We've spent a lot of time in this town, including once when we spent a whole week and I walked pretty much everywhere. We've eaten at all the restaurants at one time or another, and its just a very familiar and comfortable stop.

We had figured to spend just a single night, but by bedtime, Louise was so miserable we started to think about staying in quarters another day. Apart from that, my Monday project was to start calling boatyards, starting with the nearby Jarrett Bay Boatworks just outside of town, to arrange a haul-out to replace our stabilizer seals. The port fin started squealing when we were still on the west coast, which is a sure sign the seals need maintenance.

This view of Vector provided by the Town of Beaufort.

I had figured to call Jarrett Bay first thing, and make my other calls underway, but staying planted for the day I just made them all in sequence in the morning. Jarrett Bay did not return my call until late in the afternoon, which aced them out of the running. Hoping to go offshore around the Delmarva peninsula, I looked at every yard from Beaufort to Hampton for the magic intersection of a 70+ ton lift, technicians who can work on stabilizers, and availability on the schedule. I also asked for recommendations online.

By the end of the day we had nailed down a yard in Wanchese, on Roanoke Island, Safe Harbor Outer Banks, who had the lift, help, and time. They even had the parts on order before the day was out. This fit in with our hope to take the Pamlico Sound route on this pass and avoid the slog up the Alligator River. That did mean we needed a two-day weather window on the sound to make the trip.

No motorized vessels. I will need to kayak over the next time I want a pizza.

Louise was down for the count the whole day, and she even tested as part of a study she is in; the tests were negative for COVID, flu, and RSV, so really just a bad cold. I ordered a takeout pizza at dinner time, landing at the Fishermen's Park dock, which was a lot closer to the pizza joint, No Name. I was on the street before I learned the dock did not allow motorized craft, but I figured no one would notice me for ten minutes on a cold rainy day anyway. I would not have minded a longer walk, but I only had a short gap in the rain, and I did not want the pizza to get cold.

The weather on the Neuse and the sound was not forecast to be favorable on Tuesday, and so we planned a short day just to the mouth of Adams Creek. An 8am departure would have given us a fair tide, but I wanted to walk some more and it was pouring all morning, so we stayed put until 2. I had a nice walk around 11, but we ended up with 1-2 knots against us the whole ride, and what would have taken two hours at 8 took over three at 2. Oh well. We dropped the hook in a familiar spot in Adams Creek (map) and had leftovers aboard.

The minuscule dinghy dock at the Community Store is hidden behind other docks, so they put up a sign.

Yesterday was perfect cruising weather, and we weighed anchor and launched into the middle of the northbound conga line of loopers and snowbirds. It was a fairly long day to the Silver Lake anchorage in Ocracoke, a pace we've not been in four years. The entrance channel, Big Foot Slough, is notorious for a narrow, shallow chicane that the enormous car ferries have to navigate, and you never want to meet one there. As we approached we heard the ferry call a sailboat; the latter turned out to be aground. We watched the ferry pass them close aboard.

We have good surveys now, and I always put a track on the ferry, so we had no issues with the chicane. The sailboat had freed itself by the time we arrived. It's a good 45 minutes from the channel entrance to the lake, where we had a tight squeeze into the anchorage among the ten boats already there (map). I tendered ashore stag to reacquaint myself with the lay of the land. There are dinghy docks at the National Park Service marina near the ferry terminal, and at the Community Store.

The Ocracoke Variety Store was well-stocked, if a bit pricey.

Louise was feeling up to dinner so long as it was close, so we headed ashore at the Community Store and went to Dajio right across the street, which was decent and had a couple of nice drafts. After dinner I dropped Louise back at Vector and returned ashore for a longer walk. I walked all the way through town, stopping in the well-stocked grocery-cum-hardware store, and ending at Howard's Pub, where we had parked Odyssey on our first visit to Ocracoke nearly two decades ago. From there I took the town,s free tram back, really an oversize golf cart, learning that it could get us to pretty much any joint in town with just an easy stroll.

I had checked in with the yard before they closed, and they allowed that Friday was unlikely and the haul-out would be Monday. Louise checked the weather and it looked like we maybe should just stay in Ocracoke another day, with another window on the weekend. We left the tender in the water. When we got up this morning, however, forecasts had again changed, and while there might be another shot on Sunday, it's risky, so today was the day.

The tram runs at least every 20 minutes (I found it more frequent) and will get you anywhere in town.

We decked the tender and got back underway before 8am for the nine-hour trip. The sound was pretty flat all morning, but as I type here after lunch, we have rolling 1-2 footers behind us. The plotter says we will be in Wanchese before 5pm, but after the yard closes for the day, and we have exactly one possibly anchorage opportunity along the Old House Channel, but until we get there around 3:30 we won't know if it will be comfortable at all.

My preference is to anchor tonight if we can, and arrive to the yard tomorrow fresher and during business hours, but we're ready to come in after hours if we have to. With any luck they will have all the parts in hand to get the stabilizers done Monday, and I also asked them to order a five-gallon pail of paint (the smallest it comes) to freshen up the bottom, which I hope can be done by Tuesday for a Wednesday launch. But things in a boatyard gang aft agley, to plagiarize Burns.

I took this pic of Howard's Pub for old time's sake.

While we've been through Pamlico many times, we've never taken the Old House Channel around the east side of Roanoke Island, and there is a reason: From Manteo north, the channel is 6-7' deep. We need a confluence of good weather, favorable wind direction, and high tide (what little there is here) to even try it. I'm hoping we can get through, whenever we leave the yard, because it is a very, very long way back out to the south.

Update: We are anchored between a pair of small islands right off the Old House Channel (map). It's comfortable here even though it's blowing 15-20 knots, but we had no way to know that until we got here. A storm may blow through this afternoon or evening with hail and gusts up to 50kt, and we're happy not to be trying to dock in that. We'll continue to Wanchese tomorrow.