The Rose Buddies & The Dismal Swamp

Monday morning, Beaufort, NC, just about mile marker 200. Two hundred miles to the Chesapeake Bay and then another 150 or so to Annapolis. Sadly enough, our ocean sailing is over. Yes, there is an offshore route from here to the Chesapeake but we're not doing it. You see, that route takes you out around Cape Hatteras. It's not called the "Graveyard of the Atlantic" for no reason. Besides, the inside route from here holds some allure. The open waters of Neuse River, Pamlico and Albermarle Sounds do indeed permit some sailing. And we are looking forward to visiting Elizabeth City and transiting the Dismal Swamp Canal and associated locks.

The first leg from Beaufort takes you through a protected river and land cut. The forecast called for a stiff breeze starting late morning and lasting all day. But it wasn't until we were clear of the cut that we felt the full force of the 25 knot northeasterly wind. Oddly enough, we took more water over the bow in the four miles crossing the Neuse River to Oriental then we did our entire time sailing offshore...go figure. Once behind the breakwater at Oriental, things became calm once again. So okay, we've only covered 20 miles but there really is no particular rush...at least not enough to slog through that mess all day long!

Taking advantage of the more favorable winds the next day, we started early and covered almost 80 miles up the Neuse River, through a land cut, across Pamlico Sound and then through the Alligator-Pungo Canal. The funny thing about the trip north is that everything is now green and alive all through the trip. When heading south in the fall, none of the trees had any leaves and everything looked dead (apparently as a result of the hurricanes). It was just plain dreary. Being our first time through, we thought that this was normal, that the swamps through here were like that all the time. This time, we had expected to find things like they were in the fall and were really delighted to see how lush and alive everything is.

The next day brought clouds and periods of rain in the morning which cleared as the day wore on. In the Alligator River we were surprised to hear our boat hailed on the VHF as we had been traveling alone. It turned out to be Phil & Mary Leigh on Medomak from the Chesapeake Bay Sabre Association also heading north after spending the winter in Florida. It was a nice surprise to see familiar faces on the ICW.

Once clear of the Alligator River, we set some sail in the still light winds. It's here that the paths divide, a little right takes you towards Currituck Sound for the Virginia Cut route to the Chesapeake. A little left takes you to north via the Pasquotank River to Elizabeth City and then through the Dismal Swamp Canal. Most choose the Virginia Cut Route as there is only one lock instead of two and it's a little shorter. Further, we find out late that the bridge at Elizabeth City is undergoing repairs and only opens at 9 am and 5:30 pm forcing an extra day in the Dismal Swamp. Nevertheless, we want to see both Elizabeth City and the Dismal Swamp so we forge ahead.

An hour later we set the spinnaker to improve our speed as the wind continued light. But this was to be short-lived. Another hour passes and the wind builds to 15-20 knots and we douse the spinnaker and set the jib. An hour later the wind is stronger still but we've cleared Albermarle Sound and are now in the narrower confines of the Pasquotank River where we should gain some lee. The wind continues to build even in here so we double reef the main as the wind is now a steady 25 knots. This seems to be okay for a short time but we soon find ourselves overpowered once again. I can hardly believe it because we've carried a double reefed main and our small jib in 30 knots before! In any event, we do need to reduce sail again so we douse the jib and carry on at over 5 knots under double reefed main only. Our main double reefed is barely a scape of sail, but it's more then enough as the breeze continues to build. It's much more comfortable with only the main and our speed is still good. Looking at the wind-sweep water, it's hard to imagine that we were flying the spinnaker only hours before. A couple hours with this combination and we are approaching Elizabeth City. The wind seems lighter now and our speed is down below 5 knots so we shake out the reefs in main and head in the last couple of miles.

Waiting for us up ahead is Elizabeth City, "Harbor of Hospitality" as the large downtown sign proclaims, are the Rose Buddies. Willard Scott (NBC Weatherman) once brought his crew here to do a piece on nice people in America, specifically to interview the Rose Buddies. So impressed was he with the genuine niceness of the people here that he donated a golf cart for the Rose Buddies to use in their activities. So what are their activities? Well, they are the town's welcoming committee greeting each boater at the free downtown dock with a rose for the ladies onboard. If there are enough boaters in town, they put on a wine and cheese party. And they seem eager to help with anything else that you might need. Fred, one of the original Rose Buddies is 86 years old and spry as can be. His partner died a few year back, but several other gentlemen and women have stepped in assuring that the tradition will continue. On this day, there is enough boaters and we do have our party. Fred keeps thanking us for coming saying that we couldn't have had the party without us. Fred realizes that Joyce hasn't gotten her rose yet so he gathers her up in his golf car and whirls off to get one. (The rose unfortunately didn't last very long once Atlas found it.)

Our dilemma now is this; the bridge only opens at 9:00 am and 5:30 pm; the locks only operate at 8:30, 11:00, 1:30 and 3:30 and its about 20 miles each leg from bridge to lock to lock. At best speed, we can not get from the bridge to the first lock before 11:00 and can not get from the first lock to the second lock by 3:30 if we go through the first lock at 1:30. There is also the problem of where to wait in the narrow canal once we reach the first lock. Because of the bridge restrictions, what should take one day will now take two days.

The Dismal Swamp turns out to be anything but dismal. In fact, for us, it's been the most enjoyable part off the entire Intracoastal Waterway. We move along though a canal so narrow that two boats wouldn't have an easy time passing. Nestled as we are in the trees, not a ripple disturbs the water even though the wind is gusting over 25 knots at the tree tops high above. We do have to avoid the occasional errant log that has migrated out into the canal and can you believe that we also have to watch our mast doesn't snag on overhanging branches. We arrive at the first lock with too much time to just idle around. Another boat invites us to raft up on their anchor. We do but find we are both dragging back towards the trees so we break up in a hurry. We move up and anchor only to find that our shrouds clip some overhanging branches as we swing around. Another boat milling around runs hard aground. A half hour of work and another boat pulls them off. They motor off about 200 yards only to have their transmission give out. They eventually have to be towed into and out of the lock. This really is too much excitement.

Soon after, it's our turn to load in the South Mills lock. The first lock raises us up about 8 feet. The process takes about 40 minutes after which we motor four more miles to the free dock at the North Carolina Welcome Station. We've only covered 24 miles, but it seems like 50.

The next day is more of the same, the trees thick and lush, an occasion turtle hanging amongst the lily pads and variety of birds flitting back and forth. The water here is fresh but with the abundance of tannin, it's colors resembles a cola drink. We learn from the visitors center that the tannic acid from the cypress trees acts as a preservative, keeping the water mostly free of bacteria. This water was frequently taken aboard ships making long journeys as the water remained palatable longer. None amongst us was brave enough to see how drinkable the water was.

We cleared the final Deep Creek lock at mid-day finding ourselves once again in salt water after being lowered about 12 feet. Eighteen miles to mile zero on the Intracoastal Waterway. By 3 pm we are once again back in the Chesapeake, sails set and flying towards Hampton, VA Downtown Hampton Public Dock, a dive in the pool, a cold beer and all is well.

Our excitement is not, however, over just yet. We find that very little has changed in the 8 months since we were last here except that Bill is now the assistant dock master. Bill was here living aboard anchored in the harbor when we passed through in the fall. On the day we left, we helped an errant sailboat who had gotten their two anchors wrapped around Bill's two anchors while Bill was off the boat. When we check in, we relate this story to Bill who had no idea that any of this occurred. Not more then a few hours later, Joyce is in the office with the computer using the marina's phone line when she notices the sailboat Lady Barbara anchored very close to Bill's boat. We'd met the folks on the Lady Barbara as we traveled up from Elizabeth City; nice enough folks. (You probably can guess what happened next.) Not only had the Lady Barbara gotten themselves too close, they've gotten their prop wrapped up in Bill's anchor rode. Worse yet, it's getting dark, a storm is coming and TowBoatUS can't get a diver until morning. I volunteer to go in the water to see what I can do to sort things out.

It turns out to be a very bad situation. The water is cool and murky and a strong current has the Lady Barbara abeam pressing hard on Bill's anchor rode. Visibility would be limited in any event but the overcast sky and impending darkness help little. The rode has about four wraps on the prop shaft and the little foam float Bill used to mark the anchor is mixed in there as well. There is no way to untangle the mess without cutting Bills rode which I do with Bill's permission. (A side note, it was pretty funny trying to get a knife to cut the rode. Bill hands me a carpenter's razor knife, the other boat tries to hand me a kitchen butcher knife and another person tries to hand me a knife used for peeling vegetables. Amongst three boats full of sailors, they don't have one decent knife between them.) Before I cut the line, I take another line down and save Bill's anchor by tying a line to it. Once free of Bill's anchor rode, the Lady Barbara floats free on it's own anchor with the current. A few cuts later and the most of the line and the float is free of the prop shaft. As I grab the rest of the line; it's almost free; one good tug and I have it free, but what is that red stuff coming out of my finger....blood....my blood!

It so happens that the boat has a line cutter on the shaft that is supposed to cut a line before it wraps on the prop. (Guess it doesn't always work although it's plenty sharp enough.) It takes the hospital 6 hours to put five stitches in my pinky finger. It's 2 am when I finally leave the emergency room at Hampton Hospital; what an ordeal! Bill and the folks on Lady Barbara feel terrible but some good does come of it. Because of the weather and my hurt finger, we stay an extra couple of days in Hampton and are there when our friends on Morning Star arrive.

For the first time in forever, (at least for us) the weather remains overcast, cool and rainy; it feels like winter to us. We're content to just hang out in Hampton for a couple more days. Before the rain we were able to clean our nasty brownish waterline typically known as the "waterway smile." And at the dock, Atlas enjoyed his freedom exploring, while Apollo was content to stay onboard after his recent swimming experience.