When the “eyes” have it

October 27, 2016 by s/v sionna 10 Comments

…by Keith
When last we left our heros…

Perhaps that’s a bit too much drama. Without going into gory details, let’s just say that surgery to reattach a retina is an amazing use of Star Wars technology, for which I’m extremely greatful, and hope never to encounter again. Lasers are a wonderful thing – but aren’t we all the time being warned not to shine them in our eyes?

Just sayin’…

The extended stay in Hampton, VA which my eye surgery required was very much a new thing for us in many ways. It was only the second time we’ve been in a marina slip, and the first time we stayed for long enough (17 days!) to become recognizable as “regulars”. Boats leave, new boats come in, we make friends and share the good spots in town we’ve found, and serve as the welcoming committee for each new cruiser.  

Need a sugar fix? We can help with that! 

It was also the first time we’d attended a cruiser “rally” – in this case the 4th annual Hampton Snowbird Rendezvous. This gathering of 50+ boats and twice as many people is a great place to learn everything you can about following the sun along the ICW (IntraCoastal Waterway), and though we had no idea it existed, by our second week at the dock it was a welcome distraction from our enforced stop-over.

Hampton Snowbird Rendezvous departure breakfast.

But finally the day arrived. My two-week checkup with the surgeon showed the eye healing nicely, and no reason we needed to stay close. The day after we recieved the ok to travel was spent preparing the boat to be a boat (rather than an apartment) again, and the next day we departed. First to the fuel docks for 22 gallons of diesel, then south through Hampton Roads, Norfolk Naval base, and the Portsmouth Navel Ship Yard. Military stuff. Huge. Scary. And very nervous about little boats getting too close. It can be kind of tense. 

USS Zumwalt, and an un-named submarine. Busy place!

 

But we did it! And nobody shot at anybody or even got testy. We spent our first night at the free docks in Portsmouth, right next to the ferry dock. This is really significant only because it marked the first time I docked the boat with the use of only one eye. It’s a strange feeling, bringing 14,000 pounds of floating home up to an immovable object, and having to guess – based on memory – how far you are from contact with said object! But it actually was not as hard as I feared: Nobody screamed, nothing went “Crunch!” No drama at all, actually – except the anticipation.

Sionna docked in Portsmouth, VA

From Portsmouth, we officially entered the ICW – Mile 0 was just 100 yards from our dock. The next 5 miles south are simply an industrial zone of shipyards, military enclaves and commercial piers, smelly, noisy and crowded with tugs, ships and barges. And believe me, after almost three weeks of living in the city (see my earlier blog on light and noise) we were simply aching for a quiet anchorage, away from all things human. We didn’t quite get it, as there were a couple other boats anchored with us and the Navy has a practice area for their pilots near by, but it was, at least, not in the city.

Anchored off marker Red “32” on the Atlantic IntraCastal Waterway

But first, we had to get there. The day included nine bridge openings, most of which we didn’t even have to wait for because there are so many boats traveling south that we’d just adjust our speed a bit, arrive when a bunch of boats did or when the bridge was due to open, and through we’d go.

Bye bye Portsmouth!

We also got to do our first lock! The water level between Portsmouth and Pungo Ferry, Virginia can be as different as 4 feet, so there’s a lock along the canal to bring the boats up or down as required. Due to the run-off from hurricane Matthew, the difference when we came through was only about 9 inches, but still, transiting a lock is a pretty neat experience, and something else boat-related to add to our list of “firsts”.

“Locking up” at Great Bridge, VA

With a forecast of substantial winds for the following day, we elected to sit tight in our anchorage and let the blow pass by. For us, it was a noisy but comfortable night – but for one of our neighbors…. Not so much. 

See that second boat behind us?  He did NOT have a restful night…

Sometime before midnight I woke up, sat up, and had this feeling that “something” was not right…. I slid the hatch back and took a quick look around the anchorage and was confused for a moment – where there should have been two other boats north of us, there was only one. Oh wait, there he is, off to one side and floating sideways across the channel…
Now it’s a characteristic of boats that when anchored, they face either the wind or the current – whichever is stronger – but when the anchor doesn’t hold for some reason, the boat will drift off sideways, laying perpendicular to the wind. This guy was asleep, and in trouble.
So I scrambled top sides in my birthday suit, grabbed our portable air horn, and started giving a series of five blasts on the horn – the international marine signal for “Danger!” First set – no sign of life aboard. Second set, a light comes on inside. Third set, more lights, and a hatch opens…

And what followed was the most impressive boat rodeo I ever hope to see. It included drifting, backing at high speed through a dark anchorage, going aground in reverse, at least three attempts to re-anchor, and finally the successful anchoring of a 42-foot sailboat in the middle of the channel, followed somewhat later by the irate blasting of a tugboat’s horn as a rather large barge was squeezed by in said channel, in the dark. This poor guy did basically EVERYTHING wrong – but he survived, to drag yet again the next morning when he finally tried to get out of the channel.

I’m starting to think compulsory training and licensing for pleasure boaters is a very good idea.

So that was our exciting first two days back on the water! And today we covered another 36 miles, crossed into North Carolina, and have tucked up in another creek to wait out tomorrow’s little blow before crossing the Albamerle Sound.  

Written October 27, 2016 from Oriental, North Carolina, where we’ve stopped for a couple days to wait for mail to catch up wit us from Maine.  If you’d like to get short update e-mails from us as we move dow the coast, consider signing up for our Farkwar page! Nothing t buy, just enter your email to get a short note to say where we are.  And please take a minute to comment here and tell us what you think! We love to hear from you, field questions about boating and cruising, etc.  Thanks!