April 15-17 Back to a favorite from last fall-- River Dunes, NC

Still no good Internet connect from which to download my photos.

A big, bad, very long barge, actually three of them, full of piping and big earth moving machines, tied together and pushed by a tug, held us up at the Beaufort Channel bridge for at least 30 minutes.  So much for our 8 a.m. start.  We finally passed “it” and motored up to the “Adams Creek Canal.”

We were dreading what lay ahead.  Our sunny, warm, calm morning, burned into a 15 knot blow by noon.  We knew we were in for an “ass whipping” by the angry Neuse River.  By 2:10 we were turning towards Broad Creek in a very strong northeast wind of 18-20.  Big swells, white caps, 3-4 foot seas were very rough—the nasty Neuse on our nose.  This, too, shall pass.  She was evil on our way south last November.

We called in for a pump out on arrival.  We were assigned a good slip near the club house and facilities between two very large powerboats.

We had planned to ride out a stormy Saturday at beautiful River Dunes.  Grace Harbor, about 8 miles northeast of Oriental, NC, is well protected.  We knew a bad storm was coming.  It began in Oklahoma Thursday where it killed two people Thursday, and tore across eight southern states.  Saturday, NC had about 92 tornadoes.  It was an evil beast that kept reorganizing and slamming people and things out of the way.  Many people died.

 The weather was unsettled all day Sat.  We borrowed the courtesy car and drove to Oriental to pick up a few groceries and have coffee at the harbor.  There was a boat show in town, but it was starting to cloud up and blow, so we went back to the boat.

 We spent Saturday off the boat in the big clubhouse where Glen could watch TV in the Great Room and I worked on blogs in the library access to wireless.  We ate lunch upstairs in the dining room overlooking the harbor.  It was menacing out.

 It blew all day, but no rain, so we went back to the boat and watched a movie.  It was getting worse outside.  I tuned into NOAA weather on the marine radio on board and heard a tornado warning—we should take cover immediately.  I grabbed my rain jacket and purse, a flashlight and headed for the big house.  I also put my computer and electronics into the microwave.  I have been told it would protect them from lightning strikes.  Glen unplugged everything and locked up the boat. 

Other sailors, some with young kids, began to gather.  The staff stayed after 8:00 to provide us access to the building’s “safe” room—the inner food storage area.  Some people went into the interior restrooms.

 And we waited.  Meanwhile Glen and others were watching play by play weather updates on a local TV stations with very red radar map showing the storm’s path across our part of NC—as it crossed the Neuse River into Pamlico Co, and went north and east of us.  It was close, and the devastation was deadly across the state.

 We went back to the boat about 10.  It was still very windy, with lightning flashes, and some rain, but downpours were over; no hail.  Sleep took over.

 Sunday, April 17  Happy Birthday, John

 Our destination was an anchorage at Belhaven, about milepost 135.7.

In the early morning, Glen was ready to sail Sevilla up the Neuse.  Oh great, I thought, the damn river will be meaner than ever.  She’d beaten us up pretty badly on Friday, but she was pretty quiet for once, and we made terrific time.  We went about 30 miles beyond our destination, Belhaven, and anchored near Daybeacon “43”, milepost 102 on the Alligator River.  We had traveled about 72 statute miles—a record for us.

I had made something really exotic in the Crockpot for supper—a Thai curried coconut milk soup with ginger, onions, chicken broth and other good ingredients.  It was simmering as we hit the sideways chop of the Pamlico River about noon.  Everything went flying as my lovely soup sailed from one side of the pot to another and tsunamied out from under the cover all over the counter and seeped down into the refrigerator locker.  What a mess.  I put the Crockpot into the sink to save it and started the clean up.  We smelled like an Asian restaurant, that’s for sure.  I was thankful that our last 10 miles were on the nice, calm, protected  Pun go River Canal. 

 I recovered what I could of our soup and put the crockery back into the electric pot.  We would have a hot supper.  I learned something new today:  the definition of “confused seas.”  According to the Cruising Guide: “when easterly or westerly winds are strong and gusty, crossing will be stormy and wet.”  We may face them again soon.

We had a lot of open water ahead of us—the Alligator River and Albemarle Sound—before we would be in the calm river of the Dismal Swamp.  I can't wait to see it.

On the edge of the Dismal Swamp,

Maureen and Glen

April 17, 2011