A fast time in the slow lane: Charleston, SC (mp 464) to Butler Is. (mp 396) the Waccamaw River, April 3

We left Charleston at 7:00 on Sunday, April 3. The Ben Sawyer Bridge opened on demand before 9:00.  It was 45 degrees on a clear, calm, lovely morning.  The forecast called for NNE shifting to SSE with a high of 72.  Should have record high tomorrow with strong winds.  The harbor is quiet at sunrise. Very pretty as we slowly motor past the historic homes along the Battery.  Fort Sumter was not flying a flag today.  In a few days there would be solemn commemoration of the start of the Civil War.

We could see a lot of erosion along the marshes at low tide.  We decided to skip Georgetown.  It was almost 5:00 when we called a few marinas.  One was full; another had no pump out.  The phone service was spotty, so we decided to press on to an anchorage at Butler Island on the Waccamaw River. 68 miles was a record for us. 

This island turned out to be a not-so-nice anchorage.  The tides were severe and the winds were strong, usually of an opposite direction.  We were in more than 20 feet of water and we used a trip line as recommended in the Cruising Guide.  Glen worried that the rode appeared to be under the keel in spite of using a kellet.  We reset the anchor at 4 a.m.  The line kept slipping under the boat.  What a night.  We checked it at daylight, and lo and behold, the line was straight out ahead of the bow as it should be.  In retrospect, we should have used two anchors.  The extreme tides along the rivers starting with Georgia have been quite powerful.

And to make the evening still more memorable, Cap'n Glen tossed our stainless Dutch part-of-a-nesting-set oven overboard when he emptied it of soup.  It sailed down the river faster than we could say, "Grab the net."  We thought it might be up to Myrtle Beach way before we could get there. 

The Waccamaw River has the reputation as one of the prettiest along the Waterway.  Its stately trees grow out of the water along the shores reflecting the sparkling morning sunlight.  No boat traffic to disturb our mood, as we unwound from our overnight worries.  We were glad for the short ride to Osprey Marina where we could rest up for a few days before the week at Myrtle Beach and the reunion with David and Kate.

Osprey was just 23 miles away, at mp 373.3.  The marina charges a mere $1.00 a foot.  The fuel was also one of the cheapest, at $3.80 a gallon. The floating docks were one of the many that  presented a problem for me to get on and off the boat during tidal extremes.  You can see from the photo the steep angle of the ramp to the docks.  There was no cell service although the marina provided wireless Internet. We took it easy that day, settling for pork and sauerkraut in the Crock Pot.  Very tasty.

 A restaurant called “Scatori’s” had an arrangement to pick up dinner customers at the marina, take them to the restaurant; give them time to shop for groceries next door, and bring them back.  We enjoyed an excellent Italian “early bird special,” and we had a chance to reprovision.  Osprey offered excellent accommodations:  lovely showers and laundry, very helpful personnel, excellent pump out and fuel service and a peaceful environment in the forest.

After two comfortable days at Osprey, we moved on up the river to the Myrtle Beach Yacht Club, our new home for the next 6 nights.  That would be a short trip as well, only 24.6 miles, passing several golf courses, two of which, Myrtlewood and Palmetto, were the courses David had set up for the guys to play over the weekend.  We also passed the Barefoot Landing with the huge condominium complex that had been completed since our last visit; and we got a riverside look at Greg Norman’s Australian Grille, one of the spots we will take Davo and Kate for dinner. We got a look at “Grande Dunes”, a luxe resort development that we had considered for our stay this week.  It didn’t look like anything special from the ICW, although the condos look nice; there were only a few sailboats in the marina though.  We passed under gondolas ferrying golfers across the river.  In all, lots of new, upscale developments and golf courses.

There was hardly a soul in sight most of the way—the “Rock pile”—a narrow, rock lined stretch of the ICW went on for 15 miles and we were glad we didn’t meet a trawler.  Myrtle Beach Yacht comes to us highly recommended by the Blisses.  In Little River, above North Myrtle Beach, it is an excellent marina with floating docks, pump out station at your slip; a helpful staff; nice showers and a changing room.  The laundry was good and the computer station was located nearby so you could surf while waiting for laundry.  We got a weekly rate for around $290.00, so that was pretty reasonable daily charge.

One of the nicest features was a small restaurant called “The Officers’ Club” located upstairs.  The food is delicious—an Italian flavor, everything fresh, a creative chef who comes up with specials daily.  We enjoyed Bloody Mary’s and lunch there a couple of times and brought David and Kate there for Saturday night’s dinner.

We rented a car from Enterprise for the week, so we headed just across the highway to a pretty golf course called “Eagle Nest” where Glen and I played twice to tune up for the father-son match over the weekend.  Azaleas were blooming everywhere, as were the flowering trees. 

The kids arrived Friday night, picked up their car and met us at their “Bay Watch” hotel in North Myrtle Beach, about ten minutes from where we were staying.  We took them to Norman’s place for a lovely dinner on the veranda overlooking the ICW.  The weather was great for outdoor dining and the view was a real treat for all of us.  David treated us to dinner—he and I had lobster, his favorite.

 The guys enjoyed their golf match Saturday while Kate and I sat on the balcony of her room, drinking coffee and reveling in the ocean views on a sunny morning.  We had lots to talk about as we got reacquainted.  When we got ambitious enough to put on swim suits and go out, the weather had gotten cooler and windy, so we had to stay covered up while we searched in vain for a protected place to lay out by the pool.  The only place to eat lunch nearby was the sports bar that opened at noon.  Food there was a disappointment, to put it politely.  And there was cigarette smoke.  Back to our haven upstairs.

We all enjoyed our super dinner at the Officers’ Club where we received special attention from Mike. the owner.  We had two orders of a wonderful Mussels dish; David and I shared an amazing Crab Pot; Glen a wonderful salmon with a bourbon, brown sugar and orange sauce.  Kate liked her blackened snapper.  It was a great evening.

The weather turned gray and cold Sunday morning, but that didn’t stop the intrepid golfers.  I have given up believing in a forecast of four good days straight.  The fourth day in a southern spring seems to turn nasty every time.  Dressed in jeans and jackets, Kate and I did get out for a long stroll along the beach Sunday morning.  The boys endured rain and wind, but fought to a draw in their match.  No money changed hands that day.  We met at a sports bar where we watched some of the Master’s over a late lunch while waiting for the inevitable farewells before they headed to the airport and we went back to the marina. 

This rendezvous was the high point of our long journey home.  Now all we want to do is get through the next 500 miles as quickly as Sevilla can make it.

 Hope we can be in Annapolis by Easter.

Best,

Maureen and Glen

April 12, 2011