Casting Bubba's

Now we've seen some weird stuff over the years on the water. Heck, we've even done some weird stuff. But this was leading the pack so far for this trip south. There we were, in south Georgia, in the middle of NOWHERE, nothing around for miles and miles. I kept seeing this bunch of dots off on the distance. First I thought they might be stumps, but as we got closer, it became obvious that it was a rather large gathering of Bubba's.
They were generally two to a boat, and not anchored, just bobbing around. Every now and again two boats would bump, and one arm would reach out and push off. No engines could be heard, I was getting a mite nervous as we approached. There were a lot of them, they were right in our path, what were they doing there?
I had been using the binocs to get a better glimpse of the non-action ahead. I could see no fishing rods being used. But then I didn't see any rifles or shotguns either, so that was a good sign. Every now and again, it looked like one would stand up for a minute. Were they watching us as we approached? The Dueling Banjo's theme thrummed in my head.
Finally we got close enough to start threading our way through them. And saw what the Bubba's were up to. Cast-netting! Each Bubba had a cast net between his legs. In turn, one would stand and cast, retrieve, and sit. Then the other boat occupant would stand and take his turn. I'll bet there was over 600 years of cast-netting skill and knowledge in that grouping, and I was sorry that I didn't have the opportunity to stop and learn what I could from them. Funny how I had cast those Bubba's differently from a distance.

Home on the Ranges

Today we went through 12 ranges on our way south down the Intercoastal Waterway. I spoke a bit about ranges on Journey's facebook page, but for our non-sailor friends, a picture is worth a bunch of nonsensical words, so....

 Now, in this first picture you see what looks like a orange sign, with a white stripe running right down the middle, top to bottom. In the second photo, you notice there are actually two signs, and they are not directly over one another because Journey has already begun her turn, and left the range.

The trick is to line the sign posts up so that when you are seeing them like the first pisture or risk running aground. There may be lots of open water around, but it's all shallow outside of the range. Now how do you do this, when some of these ranges are over a mile long and the signs are that far away when you start? Simple: look at the lower photo again. The bottom sign is off to the right. Move the boat to the right until the signs line up again. (you would never want to get this far off of the proper alignment in a real range, you'd be aground.) Al and I are partying on Miss Ruby tonight here in our anchorage, along with Partner Ship, so I will leave you with this navigational "lesson of the day". We are just above Jekyll Creek in Ga. for the night.

Lonely Days and Lonely Nights

12/9/11
I've definitely noticed a trend on this migration south. We are all alone. In marinas, at anchorages, there are really no other cruisers out here. Last time south, we traveled in a pack, lots of us grouped together each day, headed towards warmth. The anchorages were full, as we all jockeyed for our little piece of bottom grabbing.

We are very late this year and it shows. We see a few crabbers and small fishing skiffs out doing what they do, but outside of one or two big power cruisers headed fast towards the sun, we are really bringing up the rear this time around. So as we head south, we are turning out all the lights. We are the last ones in the ICW.

We made it to Southport Marina today around noon. Our batteries are overcharging, and Al has it isolated (we hope) to the internal regulator on the alternator. I figured it would be a lot easier on him to change to our spare alternator in a marina, plus if it turns out we are wrong, we can get parts since we are in town. He changed it out and says it is working fine so far. Here's hoping!

We must be invisible. I say that because the other day we had the kite boarding guy zig-zagging in our path like we weren't there and today it was fishermen. Now here we were, headed down a distinct channel, shallow water to each side. A small john boat type skiff can be seen ahead, far in the distance, barreling towards us. No problem, there is plenty of room to pass us on each side in a small boat like that.

But wait, the guy pulls short a few hundred yards in front of us and his partner tosses out a bouy. They proceed across the channel in front of us (one side of the channel to the other) laying a freaking fishing net! What the Heck?? Then they proceed to signal us that they have a net in the water. Oh yeah, get it deep buddy, 'cause I'm about to go right over your several hundred dollar investment. No way I'm running out of the channel, or coming to a dead stop because you were too lazy or stupid to go 100 yards further and lay it behind me. It's not like there another boat out here for 50 miles. So over it we go, with them mouthing off at me like there's no tomorrow. I play as deaf as they played at being blind. 

I told Al: next time we pull the boat, I am installing one of those line cutter thingies. Nets under the boat, crab pots in the channel, with the line cutter, they will all be fair game.

Finally going the right way

We got away from SailCraft Boatyard this morning at 8:00. At 8:04, I was aground. I was still in the channel, just not where enough water was. We draw 5ft., not 4'7", and that's what the depth meter read. I backed Journey off, and took her real wide, and we were finally underway.
We stopped at SeaGate Marina for fuel and water, great place with nice folks. I had a few reservations about the small turning area and my big hulking boat, but I was able to get in and out with no problems.
We didn't really consider ourselves headed south until we passed the turning basin at Beaufort. Until then, it's all home cruising grounds to us. So as we headed into Bogue Sound, we truly felt the trip had begun.
Down near the south end of the sound, there was a kite surfer cutting back and forth across the channel. Now Bogue Sound is huge, and this guy needs like, what? six inches of water under him? But here he was, as we approached,  weaving back and forth in front of us like an idjit. We decided if he got his kite caught in our rigging, we would drag him until we couldn't hear his pleas for help anymore, then cut the mess loose. We had him pass less than fifty feet in front of us, in a pretty good headwind, then he weaved a scant thirty feet behind the boat. For him: fun-100%, brains-2%. After all, he can ride a kite board, so that's worth something.
Next we kept an eye on the cold front as it bore down on us. Winds kept building during the afternoon, and the dark line of clouds were heading our way from the mainland. It looked as though a good soaking was imminent, but it never materialized. The sun finally peeked out around four PM, and felt good on our wind blown bodies.
Cherry Point had their Harriers out in force. They were landing as we passed, and I swear they all planned their descent path to pass right overhead. What noise! They would come over, slow down, hover and land. Mega decibels for the duration.  I still can't hear right.
As the afternoon waned, we started thinking about an anchorage. Swansboro was the first place within the barest reach of daylight arrival, and that was going to be iffy. We had been running against the current for most of the day. Al read the report on the anchorage: "strong changing currents, two anchors required".
We called Casper's Marina. Yes they could take us. Wait... after dark? No we can't dock boats after dark, it's too dangerous! Shoot Lady, if I can bring it in after dark, the least you can do is help tie me up!
So we called Dudley's. Yes Yes Yes, come on we are here for you! And we are almost half the price of stuffy Casper's. Well alright, I said that, not them, but it's true!
So I am warm, Al is watching TV, and I have power for the computer! Dudley's even delivered us to a local restaurant, where we had a wonderful dinner, and the restaurant brought us back to the marina. Great Day indeed!

We start, we stop.

Well, this morning saw Journey leaving the creek and getting underway. We are finally headed south on our cruise to the Bahamas. Once we reached the Pungo river, we fooled around for an hour and a half setting up the autopilot, Wolley. (That's it's name, thanks Bill) Boy is that one sweet piece of equipment! It (he, because he's like a third crewmember) did most of the steering for the day, and never asked for a thing. Well, except for power, and that was easily given, because we couldn't sail.
Yep, right after we started out, I went to unfurl the genoa (front sail that unrolls) and it was stuck. Al and I managed to unfurl it by hand, roll it back up with much difficulty, and then we decided to see what the problem could be. Al thinks one of the bushings looks worn, broken, and past usefulness. As soon as I could get a cell signal, I made a call to our favorite yard, Sailcraft, in Oriental. We are now sitting in the spillway, waiting for Monday morning.
We counted our blessings all the way to the boatyard, this could have happened down the way, where we didn't know the yards, further down the way, where there are no yards, or worst case scenario.... it could have happened "out there'. Offshore, with no way to furl the sail back up, could have been a real mess! For those of you who are keeping up with the ongoing rib saga, it is now DAY 4, and even with the boat rolling side to side all day, I came through in relative comfort. I had a couple of small pains, and hardly any discomfort today.
For those of you who have no idea what I am talking about, last Tuesday evening, I broke a rib in a nasty mash-up with a shopping cart at WalMart. On reflection, I should have just maced it. Since I was already at WalMart when this happened, I swung by the Lady's undies dept. and bought one of those waist cincher things... you know a "make you two jeans sizes smaller!" girdle affair. It is something that anyone can use to imobilize a broken rib; much more user friendly and comfortable than ace bandages, so laugh if you will, but I'm mending better for it.
So as we sit tonight, not heading south anymore, but waiting for Monday morning so we can spend $$$ fixing the boat, we are happy, pain free (mostly) and about to be well fed. That is, if I can ride a bike with a bum rib. We are headed to The Silos. Everyone in the Oriental area should come by and see us tomorrow. You know where we are!