Ten miles to Thunderbolt and another 44 to Beaufort (pronounced "Bewfort") SC, after a chilly 7:00 a.m. departure from the Isle of Hope. The gorgeous sunrise and clear blue sky promised us a calm day; in fact, four good travel days lay ahead.
It was so chilly overnight that the condensation on the ceiling in the cabin dripped like mad and we had to turn the heat on to dry it out. Our knot meter was awry again; it needs to be cleaned every time we stop for a few days. And there was a 20 minute wait for the bascule bridge opening which kind of negated our early start. We knew this would be a day with a lot of open water.
The wind kicked in so we motor sailed on Calibogue Sound. We passed Hilton Head a little after noon and took the jenny down when the channel narrowed for the bridge; then we put her back up. She went berserk as we crossed Port Royal Sound in 22-30 knot winds. We were doing nearly 8 knots speed over ground, but the wind was on our back as we headed East. And just as I brought Glen his hot barbecue lunch, the jenny was flapping uncontrollably. I took the wheel, trying to turn Sevilla into the wind so we could take her down. It was a little easier when we tried the maneuver with the wind on our tail. Glen wrestled the sail while I steered, and, slowly, we got her down. Meanwhile, everything was a wreck in the cabin--dishes, glassware, DVD’s everywhere. Glen had his offshore life vest on all day. Me, too. In retrospect, we're so glad we didn't try and sail overnight from St. Simon's Sound, GA, to Port Royal, SC, as we had been tempted to while in Isle of Hope.
We finally got across Port Royal Sound into the Beaufort River after one of our tougher days on the water. Happily, we got to Beaufort’s downtown marina in time to take a walk along the waterfront to see some of the beautiful homes of this famous, aristocratic southern town. Property seems expensive, even though there seemed to be plenty for sale We looked at the million dollar price tag of several of the ante bellum homes. We had a drink outdoors in a small café, one of several along the pretty river park walkway. It was a chilly, but calm evening. Luckily, we had brought a quart of Brunswick stew from our barbecue place in Isle of Hope and served it with a tossed salad for an easy onboard supper. Glen was pretty tired, but I decided to do a load of laundry since it was convenient.
The next morning we breezed through Lady’s Island Bridge at 7:35 and pushed Sevilla hard to make the 67 miles to Charleston. At the start, the weather was calm, cool and sunny with smooth water. We sailed down lots of rivers--the Beaufort River becomes the Brickyard Creek, which turns into the Coosaw, about Milepost 535. We had thought we might need to anchor out for the night—maybe at Church Creek, or the Stono River, or Milepost 471, just beyond Wapoo Creek. But we were making good time and decided to go for Charleston.
At 2:05, Cap’n Glen was still at it; such endurance amazes me. He took no breaks. It was so windy that we didn't dare use the jenny. The current was as tricky as is the depth. We had a long run through a rocky narrow channel almost into Charleston Harbor. We waited quite a while in a swift current for the 5:30 p.m. Wapoo Bridge opening. By then we had decided to get a slip at Charleston City Marina on the “mega dock.” Never again!
This will not be entered into our annals as a favorite marina. We had a horrendous time docking on a long inside wall between two sailboats with the tide and the current against us. One dockhand took the bow line, but Sevilla’s stern tried to swing away on a 90 degree angle. It took three more dockhands to take the spring and stern lines, and with Glen backing down hard, to get her into her parallel parking position. A difficult feat even without the wind and the current. But we were in safely. The dock hand gave me a ride in a golf cart a long way down to the Harbormaster’s office to get checked in. I found out there was marina transportation downtown to a restaurant of our choice if we could be ready by 7:00. We raced back to Glen, loaded him on the cart, and got to the van for a trip to "Virginia’s" for her famous southern cooking. I had Shrimp and Grits for the first time. Quite good, I’d say. My dinner partner practically had his face in his plate he was so tired, so we took a taxi back, and crashed.
Tomorrow, we’ll aim for Georgetown. Two tough days of sailing behind us, but we’ve covered a lot of ground—from milepost 590 to 464!
Maureen and Glen
Beaufort to Charleston, SCApril 1-2, 2011
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