Thanksgiving in Little Washington

We are under way downbound on the Pamlico River, after just over a week at the Waterfront Docks in the charming town of Washington, North Carolina, colloquially known as "Little Washington" or also "the Original Washington" (the town adopted the name in 1776, making it the first town in the nation to do so). It's been a pleasant but very, very cold week, with last night's temperature setting a record for Vector at 24°F.

Market Street, Washington, festively lit for the holidays. The city lighting ceremony was the day before we arrived.

Monday morning of Thanksgiving week we weighed anchor at Tuckahoe Point and made the slog through the Alligator-Pungo Canal. We arrived to Belhaven Harbor and dropped anchor (map) by 1pm, making it an early day, but we had time to kill before Thanksgiving. Stinkpot was already anchored when we arrived. I splashed the tender and picked up Stacey and Dave to get in a bit of an afternoon walk. At dinner time we all headed ashore and walked to El Mariachi for dinner, our current favorite in town. Decent Mexican food, and Negra Modelo on draft.

I think I am the sidekick in this painting. At least I'm not the ass.

Dave-the-chef, who would be hosting us for Thanksgiving, made the determination that Washington would be his preferred choice for cooking the feast and also riding out the coming cold snap with power. With an easy cruise and an extra day, we all decided to make the stop at Bath, NC on our way up the Pamlico, and that's where we headed Tuesday. We did have just a foot under keel in parts of Bath Creek, and, unwilling to risk getting stuck in the mud at the free State Dock, we dropped the hook in a wide spot in the creek (map).

Stinkpot and Vector crews at an otherwise empty Quarterdeck, awaiting our food.

We splashed the tender and headed over to the State Dock, where Stinkpot was already tied up. Sounding the dock suggested we could just make it to the short T-head with a few inches under keel (at this water level), which we noted for the future. The lone sit-down restaurant in town was dark Tuesday, and so we all hoofed it over to the only other option, an order-at-the-counter Tiki-deck affair called the Quarterdeck, attached to a minuscule marina. Surprisingly, they had draft beer, and we all sat on the upstairs deck in our winter coats eating burgers and fries.

In case you were wondering why we were all lined up at a counter on the edge of the tiki hut, this is what the rest of the deck looks like,

This Pomeranian goose has taken up residence at the Quarterdeck and was looking for handouts.

Wednesday we weighed anchor and continued up the Pamlico to Washington. We planned to take our two free nights at the dock that lacks services, and then move to the dock with power and water when the cold hit in earnest on Friday. Instead, the marina just told us to tie up at that dock on arrival, and they would give us the two free days until we plugged in, so that's where we landed, just in front of fellow steel trawler Vahevala (map). Her stalwart crew, friends Linda and Brian, were off in Buffalo for the holiday.

Just two steelies staring each other down at sunset. Vahevala and Vector.

After getting secured I took a stroll around town to refresh my memory, stopping in at Two Rivers Ale House to have my growler filled with their excellent Oktoberfest for our holiday meal. I also picked up a peach pie for Thanksgiving at local bakery Val's. Lastly, I deployed the e-bike to go pick up some packages at the UPS Access Point in the nearby CVS, and pick up some pre-holiday provisions at Food Lion, including the requisite pumpkin pie. We met up with Stacey and Dave at Ribeyes for a casual dinner; Dave had already been ramping up in the galley for the feast.

Washington goes all out with the holiday lights. This is the visitor center.

Thursday morning we had to run the generator first thing for heat, and by mid-day we decided to just plug in right then and pay for an extra day. Helping that decision was the fact that we were being pinned to the dock by winds gusting up to 35mph, and we crammed some extra fenders in place. Sailboats were dragging in the anchorage. By 2pm we were headed over to Stinkpot carrying a growler of beer, a case of sparkling water, and two pies. Dave outdid himself, and we had an excellent feast of roast turkey with all the fixin's. That same meal fed all four of us twice more over the course of the week (I did have to refill the growler), and I think it fed Stacey and Dave beyond that.

Dave is a master. Impressive bird coming from a tiny galley on a tiny boat.

In addition to Dave's excellent cooking, which included a lovely pasta al forno when the leftovers ran out, we enjoyed dinners at Ribeye's, Down on Main Street, Mulberry House Brewery, 1906 Bistro, and Havens Mill Pizza, a carry-out stand adjacent to the Pitt Street Brewing Company, which serves no food of its own but where you can enjoy your pizza with a nice draft. We also did a date night at one of the fancier joints, the Bank Bistro, where we happened into prime rib night and split an enormous slab of it (excellent). My two glasses of red blend were overpriced but all else, including Louise's beer, was quite reasonable. You walk through one of the two vaults in this historic bank building to get to the restrooms; the other is behind the bar.

More holiday lights on Main Street, along with the sign on the historic Turnage theater.

Facing the prospect of being pinned down by weather for the better part of a week or more, Friday we lowered both scooters to the dock so we could exercise them, even if there was no place we really needed to go. Over the course of the week I did end up making two runs to Goodwill, two to Walmart, one to Autozone, and one to Lowes, and Louise went out for a haircut. A lot of rust fell from Louise's Genuine Buddy when we lifted it; this one was not aging well, especially with steel wheels. I could not get the Buddy to start.

Soup, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, roasted Brussels sprouts, cranberry sauce, and fresh baked bread rounded out the feast.

Saturday we got a notice from the marina that they would be shutting the water off overnight due to a hard freeze, and so we topped up the tank. I spent most of the day working on making trim pieces for the flybridge hatch, the final element of that project, from a piece of base molding I brought home from Lowes on Friday. Those pieces are now all cut and have received three coats of cherry stain over the same number of days, but are still not dark enough to blend in with the existing woodwork. We'll see if I can get it there or will need to start over with cherry trim.

Another view down Main Street.

The other major project I undertook in sub-optimal cold temperatures was to sell the Buddy. It was 17 years old, and the rust being deposited on deck is troublesome. But more importantly, regular readers may recall it stranded Louise in Amsterdam, NY after, we think, taking on a tankful of bad gasoline, and she lost trust in it. I drained the fuel and put fresh in, cleaned the air filter, and jumped it to the boat batteries to spend way too much time cranking it. Eventually I put a new spark plug in, which did the trick, and I listed it on Facebook for $200. It went to a nice young man in the local community Monday, and now we are in the market for something a little newer with less rusty steel.

Louise's Buddy scooter just before sale. Sloth not included.

Sunday morning we learned that Dave, who is a musician by trade, would be performing a few of his original compositions for the Greenwich Village Folk Festival, live streamed at 6pm. We got an invite to be part of the "live studio audience" aboard Stinkpot for his set, and since he was first up, we then got to feast on leftovers while the other artists performed. It was a nice evening.

Dave performing in front of the camera.

I'm not sure how it came up, but somewhere along the line, likely over dinner together, it came out that I had never seen Blazing Saddles start to finish. I know all the key lines and jokes, having grown up in that era, but I was just a bit too young to see it in the theater when it came out, and somehow I've managed to avoid it in the 50 years (!) since. Upon learning this, Dave, who owns a copy, insisted we have a movie night, and that was Tuesday's evening activity, along with more leftovers and Dave's killer popcorn. That, too, was a nice evening.

This bride, in a sleeveless gown, showed up for photos on one of the coldest days. Vector will be in their wedding album.

Our friends Linda and Brian from Vahevala returned from Buffalo early in the week, and all six of us met for dinner at 1906 Bistro on Wednesday. They did the Downeast Loop this season, and it was nice to compare notes and just catch up in general. We also joined them for a beer aboard and a quick tour of Vahevala Thursday, and we returned the tour of Vector yesterday.

During dinner at the Mulberry House, Little Drummer Boy came on the sound system, knocking all four of us out of the #LDBchallenge in one fell swoop.

Thursday morning I walked over to the Water Street Cafe, just a stone's throw from our spot on the dock, and picked up a couple of breakfast sandwiches, which were disappointing. I made a final scooter run to Walmart for provisions and to return the cold-weather window wrap that I had picked up "just in case," and that's the evening we ended up at The Bank Bistro, so perhaps every Thursday is prime rib night.

Because I am an infrastructure junkie, I notice things like this. Here is a carefully integrated ADA curb cut, complete with ADA truncated dome "detectable warning surface," which will get you onto a sidewalk that leads directly to a utility pole blocking your way. Seen all over town.

We've been keeping a close eye on the weather for our earliest opportunity to bolt. We wanted the temperature to hold above freezing overnight, but also needed the right wind conditions both here on the Pamlico and the following day on the Neuse. And we needed depth -- several days the wind blew so much water out of the Pamlico that we dropped over two feet right at the dock, which also trapped us in Washington, as there are a number of eight foot soundings on the approach.

Sunset over the Pamlico, as seen from our deck at the Washington Waterfront Docks.

That magic combination turns out to be today and tomorrow. It will be very cold tonight, but will remain just above freezing, and while tomorrow would be warmer, we'd lose our window on the Neuse. And so yesterday I breezed out our remaining scooter after putting in fresh fuel and stabilizer, and we hoisted it on deck. We settled the bill with the city dockmaster, who gave us a nice discount, and we arranged for a pump-out this morning. We settled on the pizza shack for dinner last night, as it was too cold to want to walk anyplace further.

The historic Atlantic Coast Line passenger and freight depots, now a civic event center.

Stinkpot, of course, has been looking at exactly the same weather, and they also opted to get under way this morning. They left ahead of us, which gave us the opportunity to learn from them that the pump-out would simply not operate in this cold, notwithstanding the herculean efforts of the dockmaster with pots of boiling water. While they were spending more than an hour at the pump-out dock, we, after singling up, strolled through the enormous line-up of floats and vehicles staging for the city's holiday parade, which started at 10. The participants looked cold but of good cheer, as did the assembled spectators lining Main Street.

Last night's low of 24° recorded at lower left. A record for Vector.

They eventually gave up on the pump-out and gave us the bad news on their way out. A short time later the dockmaster called us with the same story, so we started engines, dropped lines, and made our way off the dock just as the parade was wrapping up. It was an enjoyable, if cold, visit to Little Washington, and the city dock staff could not have been more accommodating.

One of the many projects I knocked out during the week: adding 5a thermal breakers and indicator LEDs to the control circuits for the new transfer switch.

Today we will make it through the Hobucken Cut and likely finish at a familiar anchorage just beyond. We'll look to see if there is still a spot with power available at the R.E. Mayo Seafood docks in Hobucken, but we're definitely not counting on it. Tomorrow we should be in Beaufort, NC, and the temperature should come up a bit.

Stinkpot steaming past us on her way out of Little Washington.

Update: We arrived at the R. E. Mayo dock right at 4; Stinkpot had grabbed the last spot on the transient dock with 30a power. But there is a 20a outlet on a longer face dock just a bit further away, and that dock was empty, so we snagged it (map). In order to run the boat on a 20a receptacle without tripping an inaccessible breaker, I have a 10-gauge extension cord running down to the engine room and powering our auxiliary charger, which draws just 14 amps. That ought to be enough to keep us warm overnight without running the gen, and it was a bargain at $21. We always whizz right by this dock, because we seldom need the power, but tonight it will be welcome. Now please enjoy these photos of floats getting ready for the holiday parade:

There were many Grinches.

Two different power utilities had floats with power poles and blinking transmission lines, pulled behind service trucks.

Look closely; there is a dog in this enclosure on the fencing company's float.

The other power company, with a Grinch lineman complete with climbing irons. He put his Grinch head on later.

I tried to capture the enormity of this small-town parade. There must have been 100 entries. This is looking back...

... and looking forward from the same spot.

USCG silver side represent.

We can speed out of the harbor... sheriff patrol is land bound.

One of the two marching bands, in winter uniforms, was warming up.

Crowds lining both sides of Main Street awaiting the parade.

Cruising the Albemarle Loop

We are underway across the Albemarle Sound, heading southeast from the Perquimans River bound for the Alligator River and the ICW southbound. Seas are one foot on a short period, and we're seizing the window, having been pinned down by high winds for the last four days. It's been an eventful week and there is a lot to catch up.

Super sunset over Vector at the Edenton Town Dock. Historic (relocated) Roanoake Lighthouse at right.

When last I posted we were spending the night at the town dock in Columbia, NC. Monday morning we took a short walk under the bridge to the visitor center, dropping off our trash and recycling on the way. We made a quick stop at the post office before heading home. Louise did one last load of laundry, with the alleged docks with water and power still ahead of us being a big unknown, and we dropped lines to head back out into the Albemarle Sound.

The sound was nearly flat calm and we turned west toward the historic town of Edenton, where reports said there was 10' of depth at the town docks, even though our charts showed far less. It was a pleasant cruise that took us under the Albemarle Sound Bridge and past Hornblow Point before angling toward the mouth of the Chowan River. Just before the mouth we turned north into Edenton Bay. Under way I called ahead to the Albemarle Plantation Marina, our next stop, who allowed we might be able to cross the entrance channel bar, charted at 5.5', and penciled us in.

We approached the harbor dead slow, but we found nothing less than 8' all the way in. We tied to the lone T-head (map), a bit oddly shaped, but with plenty of room and depth for Vector. Save for a lone Duffy day boat, clearly berthed there for the season, we had the entire marina to ourselves. We found working power and water on the dock, including a 100a receptacle for the occasional superyacht. The dockmaster, really a municipal maintenance worker, met us on the dock, took our details, and gave us some information about the town.

Vector at the Edonton Dock. We have it mostly to ourselves.

It turned out to be a lovely stop, and we were surprised by the amount of history here. It is one of the few towns spared total destruction in the civil war, and there are structures and monuments here dating to the Revolution. Among other things, the town is famous for having its own "tea party," organized by local activist Penelope Barker. The visitor center is in her historic home, relocated to the waterfront from a spot further inland.

I had made dinner reservations at the Herringbone restaurant, named for the historic industry here and located in a historic building near the dock.  Somehow they had lost the reservation, and a band was just setting up for live music anyway, so we instead walked over to the Watermen's Grill. We're glad we did; it was a more casual vibe where we ate in the bar, the food was good, and they had some nice drafts. They have a Facebook page, and the next day I was alerted to the fact that they had posted a photo of Vector with the sunset behind her to their page -- small town, small world.

Chowan County Courthouse from 1767.

Tuesday morning we walked over to the visitor center for the 10:30 trolley tour of the town. It was $25 for the two of us, and well worth it. The very knowledgeable guide spoke non-stop for a full hour, even though the whole loop around town could not have been much more than a mile or two. I won't bore you with the details and will instead leave the history of Edenton and its many historic structures as an exercise for the interested reader.

We were enjoying the town so much that on Tuesday morning we also made the decision to extend our stay for a second night; the dock is free for 48 hours. A full day at a dock with 50-amp power, which was a steal at $6 per night, let me spend a few hours top-balancing the lithium house bank. I found two of the six batteries a little short, so performance should now be a little better moving forward. I also put the e-bike on the ground and made a quick provision run to Food Lion and Walgreens. We ended the day with dinner at the 309 Bistro right downtown, which was also good.

Penelope Barker House, with two cannon of the "Edenton Bell Battery" -- the Confederacy had little metal and churches donated bells to be melted into these cannon. War trumps religion.

Throughout the day we had an ongoing conversation with Stacey and Dave aboard Stinkpot. We've decided to take them up on their Thanksgiving dinner offer, and we were working through when we would connect and what their plans were for Elizabeth City. They did spend one night there, but as luck would have it, we are in a cold snap here, with nighttime temperatures dropping into the low 40s, and days only reaching the mid-50s. There is no power at any of the free docks in Elizabeth City, and so they were looking at going around the corner and up the Perquimans to Hertford, where there is a free dock with free power, nominally for two nights. Stacey asked the town about a longer stay to wait out a windstorm, and they basically said they don't throw anyone out unless people are waiting to get in.

Hertford was our penultimate planned stop on the Albemarle Loop, which we had figured to end in Ellizabeth City. We thus planned on spending our final night in Edenton, one night at the Albemarle Plantation, and then we would maybe see them in Hertford, which would be a great place for us to shelter from the same forecast winds.  It's a very protected harbor, and if we could not make the reportedly shallow dock, we could at least anchor.

This handy diagram was in the dockmaster office.

Wednesday morning we dropped lines after topping up the water tank, and made our way to the town pump-out across the marina. The third dockmaster since our arrival came out to turn on the machine, and after we finished our business I followed him into the office to settle up our grand total of twelve bucks for the power. The pump-out was free. Edenton was the best stop on the whole Albemarle Loop and I highly recommend the detour off the ICW to see it. Just mind any south wind; we had light southerlies overnight and they bounced us around a little even inside the breakwall.

We threaded our way out of the harbor and turned east. But before we even made it to the bridge, the forecast for Thursday had deteriorated, and I was calling Albemarle Plantation to wave off. We could see ourselves plowing our way across the shallow bar in calm water on the way in, and then getting trapped there until at least today as the winds either lowered the depth, or made it too rough to want to try a shallow-bar crossing. We also read the whole marina can be miserable in strong winds.

Our own private harbor.

Instead we moved up our plan to go to Hertford, committing to hunker down there until today to wait out the blow, either at anchor or at the dock. We arrived just a couple of hours after Stinkpot, who sounded out the dock for us and left us the deeper and longer T-head. They reported 6' or just a hair under, which sounded workable. The drawbridge on the way into town is normally unstaffed and requires a phone call an hour ahead of time, so we were calling shortly after we turned up the Perquimans.

One through the bridge we were able to angle in and glide nicely to the dock (map), even though the sounder was screaming 5.6' for the last boatlength. Dave and Stacey met us on the dock, and we got secured and hooked up to the working 50-amp power on the dock, which turned out to have two 50s, two 30s, and two water spigots all on the lone pedestal. We were very glad to have it -- we've been running the heat non-stop since we arrived.

Also in the dockmaster office: This 90s-era Motorola VHF, still in use.

Dave, Stacey, and I did a quick walk around the entirety of the minuscule downtown, dying on the vine since the main US-17 route bypassed it on a fixed bridge a few years ago. The drawbridge, just replaced in 2022, carries Business 17 through town. We found one tap house with no food, zero restaurants, some small shops, and a nice bakery. Google said there was a restaurant about a mile away, but it was not open for dinner Wednesday.

Dave put together a nice shepherd's pie and Louise made a salad, and we had a nice catch-up dinner aboard Stinkpot. It was a lovely evening. My contentment was relatively short-lived, however, when the forecast winds arrived with a higher-than-forecast vengeance between midnight and 1am. We ended up putting three more fenders over the side in the middle of the night, as the wind was pushing up against the dock and threatening to push us off the two fenders keeping the piling tops off our paint.

The Church Street "S" bridge in Hertford opening for us.

In the relative calm of the morning, that was no longer an issue. The water had dropped a full foot, putting our rub rails back below the piling tops. The same north wind that had pushed us up against the dock had pushed a bunch of water out of the Perquimans. I put eyes on the heater discharge to make sure we were not sucking mud through the strainers, but all was good and we were just settled in the mud and not sitting on top of it.

With nowhere to go for a while and it too cold for any outside work, I settled in to a dreaded but very necessary project, replacing my phone battery. I had ordered a replacement delivered to Great Bridge after my phone was not even lasting eight hours while we were in DC. Changing a modern phone battery is not for the faint of heart; it is a fiddly process that must be done slowly and with utmost care to avoid breaking anything and ending up with an expensive paperweight.

The battery came with everything needed except the hairdryer to heat it up. That included a bunch of "guitar pick" opener tools and the like, and the eensy-teensy T3 Torx driver required to remove ten screws inside the case. This later item proved wholly inadequate for the task, a fact I learned the hard way only after completing the painstaking process of removing the touchscreen. The splines of the driver crumbled away before I could loosen even the first screw.

"Dial-up access" advertised on a store window might tell you something about Hertford.

And there I was, with my phone inoperative and in two pieces, in the middle of nowhere. I don't have another T3; my nice set of Torx drivers bottoms out at T5. Amazon had several available for overnight delivery, but "overnight" turned into "next Tuesday" just as soon as I entered Hertford for the address.

I was still scratching my head about this when Dave announced he was going to walk the mile and a half to the hardware store and the Food Lion. I needed a break anyway, and so I went with him. It was a nice diversion, but the hardware store, unsurprisingly, also did not have a T3. Dave picked up a 5-gallon bucket to brine the turkey and a bunch of fixin's at the grocery store. There was something both liberating and disconcerting about taking an hour or so errand walk without my phone. I told Louise she'd have to text Dave if she thought of anything we needed at the store.

Returning home I resigned myself to either finding a work-around for the screws, or else putting the phone back together unglued until I could get someplace to receive a new driver. With nothing to lose I carefully filed away the tip of the driver until I was back down to good splines, then used my mini-torch to temper the tip as best I could. That worked for about half the screws, and I repeated the process to get the other half. I had to settle for only lightly torquing them on re-assembly. Making matters worse, the new battery had the fancy pull-to-release adhesive in the wrong place and I had to discard it and use my own.

Stinkpot and Vector at the Hertford dock. Other than the bass tournament, we never saw another boat in four days. Photo: Stacey Guth

I was ultimately able to get it all working and back together, sometime after dinner, and the new battery is lasting much longer. But my phone was out of commission the whole day. That's usually not a problem; I seldom get calls, and I can do pretty much everything else, including texting, from my laptop. So of course this was the day when I got an urgent phone call regarding a family emergency. Fortunately, they also had Louise's number, and when I did not answer after two tries they called her. Dealing with that is what pushed the repairs past dinner time. (Nothing life-threatening or even medical.)

The idea was for me to make my way to New Jersey more or less immediately, and I spent the afternoon trying to sort that out. There are no marinas in Hertford, only the city docks, and while I am sure they would have let us just stay in light of the circumstances, that would leave Louise minding the boat in a place where absolutely no help or resources were available, and where she could not even get to a grocery store. Also, there are no rental cars, taxis, or any other transportation here, so I'd be looking at maybe putting a scooter down to ride to civilization someplace, on busy US-17.

I was able to hand off the most immediate aspects to a cousin who is much closer than I am until I can get myself back there from another stop. That meant, of course, waiting until today to get out of Hertford, when the winds finally laid down on the Albemarle. From here it is a four-day cruise for us to anyplace with a rental car or access to an airport, which would be either New Bern or Beaufort. In either case, my earliest opportunity to get a car would be Friday, the day after the Thanksgiving holiday.

Walking to dinner. Photo: Dave Rowe

Meanwhile, we had previously decided on Washington, NC as the place to spend Thanksgiving. Dave needs power to do the cooking, and there are inexpensive docks there with hookups. Regular readers may remember we spent a lovely three days there almost exactly two years ago. We already had reservations booked, and our collected mail is already en route there from our receiving service in FL.

I consider Washington to be nearly as remote as Hertford or Edenton or Belhaven, but it's a much larger town, with some big box stores and other services. And it turns out there is an Enterprise car rental office in town, a short bike ride from the docks. I was able to book a car right there for Friday, and so the current plan is to continue to Washington as previously planned, but extend the dock for as long as it takes while I am away. It's a real marina with dock staff, there are plenty of resources for Louise in walking distance, and our friends aboard Vahevala, whom we met on our first visit there, should be around if she needs any help.

With the makings of a plan and both car and dock reservations made, we were free to make the mile trek to the 252 Grill, the only restaurant in walking distance, for dinner. Dave and I had scoped it out on our walk to the stores. It was perfectly acceptable casual fare, with a few beers on draft, and we were all happy to get off the boats and away from the docks for an evening.

The old 1928 S-bridge swing span, preserved here when it was replaced two years ago.

Friday was the coldest day yet, and we pretty much stayed aboard all day. I spent a bunch of time doing route and travel planning, figuring my stops and hotels for the drive to NJ and what moving the boat will look like on my return. And I made a little panel with a couple of control breakers and indicator lights for the new transfer switch. I did bundle up in my winter coat to get a short walk in before dinner, wherein Stacey and Dave joined us aboard for one of Louise's stews.

Yesterday was just a couple of degrees warmer, yet we awoke to find ourselves surrounded by bass boats participating in a fishing tournament. I think the 40° weather and the small craft advisory (really) kept a bunch of fishermen home, but the die-hards still showed up. We once again stayed aboard, and I spent the day cleaning the fresh water valve on the master head, which was not flushing with enough vigor. My trouble light broke in the middle of that, so fixing that came right after getting the head back together.

The city's plan to make a park around the old bridge.

In preparation for this morning's departure, I went out on the dock with the boat pole to physically sound the bottom. I was dismayed to find us sitting in just 5'; some water had come back in but not enough. We consoled ourselves with home-made pizza aboard Stinkpot, and ended the day with a phone call to the bridge tender to make sure we could get an opening this morning. Even though the signs say winter hours start at 10am, he agreed to come in at 9 and open it for us.

Knowing we were pretty well stuck in the mud, we dropped lines at 8:45 this morning to see if we could work our way out. Stinkpot stood by in case we needed a tug. It was quite the effort, with lots of scraping and stopping and plenty of smoke from 370 horses, but after five minutes or more of sawing back and forth we got out of the mud and into clear water. In a different circumstance, we might have just stayed at that dock until the water level came up to our arrival depth, but we could not risk missing this window to cross the Albemarle and thus our dock and car reservations.

The tender opened the bridge at five till, and we were off. As I wrap up my typing, we are in the Alligator River, south of the swing bridge, and bound for our usual anchorage near Tuckahoe Point. Stinkpot is about a mile ahead of us and I think is heading for an anchorage just a bit further into Georgia Bay. I expect to be in Belhaven tomorrow, and Washington a day or two after that.

Tonight's view.

Update: We are anchored in a familiar spot on the Alligator River at Tuckahoe Point (map). We're still in the migration: there are eight other boats here. This will likely be my last post before Thanksgiving, and the next you will hear from me will be on our way downriver from Washington, whenever that may be. We wish all our family, friends, and readers a very happy Thanksgiving.

Stacey sent us this nice sunset shot from across the anchorage. Photo: Stacey Guth

Once more unto the breach

We are under way westbound in the Albemarle Sound, breaking new ground for us as we begin the "Albemarle Loop," a cruise around the sound that involves a half dozen free docks, some with power and water. We've always been in too much of a hurry through here, or had too short a weather window, to do this cruise, and we are looking forward to it.

Vector tied to the town dock in Columbia, NC this evening. A pontoon boat is our only neighbor.

It's been a full week since I last posted here, and a busy one at that, so there is much to catch up. Starting where I left off, with "the plan."  We still don't really have much of one, but we have at least decided to continue south, albeit at a relaxed pace. We have neither a destination nor a schedule, leaving us the freedom to do some spontaneous side trips like this one.

Dolphins playing in our bow wave inbound to Hampton Roads. Always a good sign.

Just after I wrapped up my last post, we rounded Old Point Comfort, entering the very busy Hampton Roads area, where we both had our attention on the traffic and conditions. Our route south along the Elizabeth River shoehorns us between the security zone for the navy base, and the edge of the ship channel, and on this pass, a working dredge complicated matters by forcing us out to mid-channel, threading our way through the traffic, which included the USNS Red Cloud making her way out of port.

"The Lone Sailor," Norfolk. I snapped this on Veterans Day.

We had a fair tide from Old Point Comfort all the way to Portsmouth, and arrived at High Street Landing just as the 3:30 ferry was departing. We found exactly one available spot inside the basin, just long enough for Vector but involving squeezing in behind the ominous fake paddlewheel of a stored ferry (map). One boater ran onto the dock, gesticulating wildly that we were too large for the space, or something like that, and trying to wave us off. After it became clear I was ignoring his warnings, he came over to take lines and was miffed that we neither need nor wanted his help. It took me a long time to come alongside; regular readers may remember that the pilings stop short of our rub rails at many tide levels, and I had to land dead square on our fenders.

Vector squeezed in between a sailboat and the bulkhead. You can see the ferry to our port quarter.

After getting squared away, I carted the recycling off the boat and took a short walk around town to see what was new. The Dollar General store that we sometimes relied upon for milk or other essentials has closed up, along with the Gosport Tavern. A new craft brewery has taken up residence, as well as a chandlery called Mile Zero Marine; I could not figure out if they were in any way related to the Mile Zero Marine that folded up in town a decade ago.

Dollar General no longer. A crappy store, but I will miss the convenience.

In the evening we walked over to the Tidewater Marina, where Dorsey and Bruce had docked Esmeralde, to join them for dinner at the marina restaurant, Fish & Slips. Fellow boaters Tim and Diane, who live in the area, drove in to join us. It was a fun evening, and we enjoyed getting to know Diane and Tim.

I am even sadder about Gosport Tavern.

Monday was, of course, Veterans Day, and as had happened to us on Memorial Day a few years ago, we soon found ourselves surrounded by city employees setting up folding chairs and a lectern for the memorial celebration. They also cleaned out all the leaves in a hundred-yard radius. We set our chairs up on the aft deck to take in the event. Unlike the last time, when Fifth District Commander, Rear Admiral Laura Dickey, stopped by Vector for a chat afterwards, we had no such visit from the current Commander, Rear Admiral John Vann, who was the featured speaker.

RADM Vann delivers his remarks. The USS Kearsarge, LHD-3, makes a fitting backdrop in the BAE maintenance berth.

After the ceremony, Bruce dropped by with his very fancy antenna tester to help me diagnose a long-standing cross-talk problem with my VHF radios. Louise kept calling it a "play date." We spent maybe an hour on it, and identified a lash-up of connectors and barrels that was suspect. After Bruce left I immediately ordered new connectors to our next stop to see if that would help.

Post Secondary Brewing is a welcome addition. I did not have my growler with me when I came across it. Next visit.

In the afternoon I took the ferry to Norfolk to walk around. I found the Waterside entertainment complex, right next to the ferry dock, seems to have entered the same sort of slump that led to its demise a decade ago, before it was completely renovated. The MacArthur Center downtown shopping mall has one foot in the grave, and the two shopping "arcades" were dead quiet.

Through the window at Mile Zero Marine. They are clearly a Victron dealer.

I walked for the first time, after numerous Norfolk stops, to the Freemason Harbor area, where I found a decent dinghy landing and an oriental garden with a pagoda restaurant. Good to know for our next stay at Hospital Point. At dinner time we ended up right back at Fish & Slips with Bruce and Dorsey, this time sitting at the bar. It was prime rib night, which turned out to be quite good.

Freemason Harbor basin. Looks like a good place to land the dink. I wonder who'd complain if we docked Vector.

Tuesday was much cooler, and a quiet day. I had a nice morning walk with Bruce (another play date?), and a separate shorter walk with Louise. But the day's highlight had to be the aircraft carrier George H. W. Bush, CVN-77, passing us on its way north downriver from a maintenance berth at the Norfolk Naval Shipyard in Portsmouth to an outfitting berth at the navy base on the Norfolk side. Two tugs pushing astern provided the propulsion and a pair at the bow assisted the steering, while a Seahawk helicopter orbited overhead on security detail. I joked with Bruce and Dorsey that the stern was still passing us as the bow was passing them.

USS George H. W. Bush passing High Street Landing.

In the evening the four of us walked down to High Street Pizza & Pour House for a farewell meal of deep dish pizza. It is uncharacteristic of any of us to spend this much contiguous time with another couple, between our evenings in DC and in Portsmouth. For whatever reason, it just comfortably happened this way this time, and we very much enjoyed the time we spent together. They've already left us far in their wake, and we won't see them again this season unless we end up stopping in Key West.

Her stern passing a long time later, revealing the two tugs serving as propulsion for this maintenance repositioning.

After three very pleasant days in Portsmouth, we dropped lines Wednesday morning, timing our departure to arrive at Top Rack Marina at slack water, as their fuel dock is perpendicular to the current. We gave ourselves extra time to slow roll against the tide, but our plans were derailed when we were first stopped by the Belt Line railroad bridge, and then stopped by Norfolk Southern Bridge 7 for an Amtrak train. When all was done it took us two full hours to run the seven miles from High Street to Top Rack.  Fortunately the current was still mild; we spent an hour bunkering 850 gallons and taking on water.

Monticello Arcade, Norfolk.

Esmeralde, meanwhile, left at first light for the run to Coinjock, and sounded a "Captain's Salute" on their whistle as they passed Vector. We were still snuggled under the electric blanket when we heard it, puzzling over the one long and two short blast signal, coming as it did, among the incessant one long, three short signals of the ferry. I'm sorry we were not on deck to give them a wave. The Norfolk/Portsmouth to Coinjock run is more typical than our slower-pace stop in Chesapeake, and Esmeralde had plenty of company.

Scope Arena and Chrysler Hall, Norfolk.

Lots of boats run faster than that, or get a later start than they did for whatever reason, and we had some mighty annoyed skippers waiting with us at Belt Line and Bridge 7, worried they'd miss out on the last of the prime rib at the Coinjock Marina restaurant. Most of them blew past us under way, and whoever did not, including the sailboats, all passed us while we were bunkering. But the joke was on them, because in the middle of the pack was the tug Gold Coast, pushing a loaded bunker barge. The tug and barge went right to the head of the line at the lock, and nothing else can lock through with a red flag load.

Oriental Gardens park and pagoda restaurant, Norfolk.

We arrived at the lock for the 3:30 locking, and everyone who had passed us before noon was still in the lock waiting to be locked through. That meant they'd all be waylaid by the rush hour lockdown at the Centerville Turnpike bridge and would not get through there until 6pm, well after dark. Not only did they miss the prime rib, they missed dinner altogether, and had to run Currituck Sound in the dark. The smartest among them called it a day and stopped at Atlantic Yacht Basin.

These two exotics were parked outside a $10 haircut joint in downtown Norfolk. I saw one of the drivers go in. Gotta save somewhere to make those car payments.

Adding insult to injury, we were late enough to the lock that the "good" starboard side, which is lined with rubber fendering, was full, and the lockmaster instructed us to come all the way forward on the port side and fender for the concrete wall. That meant that we passed every single boat and were the second to leave the lock, right after the boat immediately to our starboard. All the delay meant we arrived to the free bulkhead in Great Bridge just before 4pm to find it completely empty, and we had our pick of spots, taking the one closest to the bridge (map). Three sailboats that had locked through with us tied up behind us.

A pizza place in Norfolk is using Cushmans as delivery vehicles. Clever.

With plenty of time before dinner I made a quick walk through town to see what was new. The nice walkway along the docks has been finished, complete with spiffy walkway lighting. A new pizza joint has opened just a short walk from the wall, but they serve no beer. I picked up a few things at Dollar Tree and a couple of bagels for the morning at Panera Bread, forgetting there is a much better bagel place across the canal. We walked together to Vino for dinner, our current favorite in town and closest to the dock.

Classic steakhouse in a classic building, Norfolk.

We had planned on a two-day stay here, which is nominally all the city allows, and as such I had Amazon items coming to the nearby locker on Thursday, knowing they might be late enough that I would not be able to pick them up until Friday morning just before departure. So we had all day Thursday in town, and we started the day with a provisioning run to the nearby Kroger.

USS Wisconsin, BB-64, has a lot of holiday lights. I'm sorry I could not see it at night.

Later in the day, before the rain started, I walked around town again, stopping at Walgreens for my flu shot and picking up some much better bagels at NY Bagels across the canal. High spring tides had the lock closed for a few hours in the middle of the day, and our entertainment was listening to the effects of this on the radio. 

High Street Basin. The sailboat that was in front of us left. The parked ferry also went out and then came back, we assume for a routine engine run. It pushed us hard against our fenders.

It was raining all afternoon and I got some rainy-day projects done, including fixing the fresh water pump switch, which was "bouncing" and causing the pump to stutter toward the end of its cycle. When dinner time rolled around it was still raining, and we opted to just go right back to Vino because it was close. My Amazon delivery, as I had predicted, occurred well after dinner and I opted to wait till morning, after the rain, to pick it up.

I'd love to have seen this happen. Someone's bow smashed the nice new rails on the Portsmouth river walk.

Friday morning we ought to have been shoving off, but a forecast of high winds on Currituck sound along with a gale warning and small craft advisory had us remain in port, overstaying our welcome but with a "safe harbor" weather excuse. As if we needed any confirmation, just before they again closed the lock due to high water, the tug and barge Royal Engineer locked through, but then tied to the dolphins just west of us, announcing he was staying put due to high winds on Currituck Sound.

Us, some sailboats, and the Royal Engineer waiting out weather in Great Bridge.

The decision to stay an extra day gave me plenty of time for a leisurely stroll to the Amazon locker for my vhf connectors and some LED indicators I want to add to the transfer switch. I opened up the locker and removed three packages, closing the locker back up before realizing I was only expecting two items, and I had expected them to arrive in a single box.

I stopped in the hardware store to look at wood trim and I grabbed some free popcorn. They're putting it in the same bags they use for self-serve nuts and bolts, with blanks on the back for quantity, SKU, and price. I'm sure these are not food-service rated. Grease stains indicate freshness.

A quick inspection revealed that I had my own package, which I opened immediately in order to discard the outer packaging, as well as two other packages addressed to two other individuals. I stuffed those in my pack unopened so I could return them to Amazon, puzzled that the Amazon delivery person would indiscriminately stuff multiple items into a single locker.

When I got home I opened a chat with Amazon about the extra packages, and the chatbot cheerily told me to just keep them. It collected no information about them, so I foresee Amazon chats from those two recipients as well. One package turned out to be a women's thermal shirt, size small, which Louise is forwarding to our size small niece, who skis. And the other turned out to be, umm, well, I'll just post a photo of the label.

I Googled all the numbers but can't tell if this is "natural," clear, or rainbow color.

Out of an abundance of curiosity we Googled the intended recipient, a lovely young lady who lives in the area. There is absolutely no non-creepy way to reunite her with her lost love, especially considering she likely had reasons for sending it to a locker rather than her home. We hope she achieves satisfaction at a later date. The item is still in its unopened shrink-wrapped package and we are mulling over to whom we should send it; certainly we can not just drop it at Goodwill. The whole episode, along with reactions to a social media post about it, was our entertainment all afternoon.

I made the mistake of starting the VHF connector replacement late in the afternoon, only to discover after cutting off the old one that the new ones do not fit the cable. They need to go back to Amazon, but I also had to jury-rig things to get the radio working again after cutting off what had been a working connector. Fortunately I have some universal coax splices in my kit for just such emergencies and I was able to patch it back together by day's end. We walked across the canal to Buckets Bar and Grill for dinner, which had surprisingly good burgers and Vienna Lager on draft.

Albemarle sound towards the latter half of today's cruise. It seldom looks like this.

Yesterday morning we dropped lines for the 0800 opening of Great Bridge Bridge to run the gauntlet of three diabolically-spaced bridges. Fortunately, on the weekends the middle bridge, Centerville Turnpike, opens on demand, and so we were able to get through at 0825 instead of 0830 and had a more comfortable, but still high-RPM, run to the North Landing Bridge. Once through that at 9am we throttled back to our most leisurely cruise speed and had a very pleasant run all the way to the North River.

Three sailboats that had made the two bridges right behind us called to ask if that was our normal cruise speed, as I think they wanted to run just a little faster. But when they learned we draw 6', they all decided to stay right behind us and let us blaze the trail. We were like the mother duck all the way to Coinjock, with our three ducklings behind. They all peeled off at Coinjock Marina and we had the channel to ourselves the rest of the day. Once in the embayment that is the mouth of the river, we pulled off to Camden Bay for northwesterly protection and dropped the hook (map). We had three sailboat neighbors overnight.

Last night's sunset over Camden Bay, North River.

This morning we made our way back to the channel to cross the bar out into the Albemarle Sound, then made a hard right and set course for the Scuppernong River, which leads to the small community of Columbia, NC. I started typing this mid-sound, but I had to set it down as we approached the bar of the Scuppernong.

Approaching the Scuppernong in calm conditions.

Both our charts and local knowledge told us there is a very narrow bar channel with 7' of depth, and while the lowest we saw was 7.9', the channel was narrow indeed. Once across the bar things opened up, and we cruised another 45 minutes upriver, tying up at the town dock just before the fixed bridge (map). The town, along with the other six stops on the "Albemarle loop," offers 48 hours of free dockage to visiting cruisers. It's an older dock, but it has working 50-amp power and a water spigot.

Town Commons, right next to the dock, with Main Street behind. Louise for scale.

Sadly, there is not a single restaurant in town open on Sunday evening, and even if one of the three options had been open, none serves beer. We verified this with a short walk around town on arrival, and set our expectations for leftovers aboard. I returned ashore stag for a beer run to the nearby Food Lion, and then a lovely walk along the boardwalk trail through the cypress wetland of the Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge. I'm sorry we missed the visitor center there.

Boardwalk nature trail.

While it is nice to have the power and we are allowed another night here, nothing is calling us to stay in this town, and so in the morning we will cast off lines and head across the sound to one of the other stops. The two western-most stops are not Vector-friendly, and so we will head either to Edenton or to Albemarle Plantation. We're looking forward to stops with at least one dining option.

Some maintenance may be in order.

We've learned our friends Stacey and Dave aboard Stinkpot are headed in this general direction, aiming for the Dismal Swamp Canal, which will let them out at Elizabeth City. That's our final stop on the Albemarle Loop, so we are adjusting our timing to intersect with them there. That will be almost a week before Thanksgiving, but we are now giving serious consideration to a standing offer for Thanksgiving dinner together, which would mean tagging along with them wherever for a week. Unless they go someplace too skinny for us (see, they always have an out if they need it), that's as good a plan as any.