Friday15March

I just love the vast nothingness of the Georgia Marshlands. The channel twists like a snake, and sometimes it seems to turn back on itself. One time I saw a sailboat mast over the grasses. It was going the same direction I was going! How can that be? After a few turns of the channel we met. Where I first saw him the channel had turned all the way back and was parallel to itself. I want to go slowly, enjoy the aloneness, the tranquillity. I would love to linger, poke up into some of the side creeks, go ashore in the dinghy on one of the islands covered with palmettos. It is truly beautiful, a special place. Too bad for me the temperature was just above freezing and the wind blowing like stink from the north-west.
When the channel is wide I like to use the autopilot. It steers the boat for me. Having to stay at the helm is really the only uncomfortable thing about a trip like this. When the wind is from the strong with gusts it confuses the autopilot. A gust will hit and blow the bow off. The autopilot compensates, but when the gust stops the boat turns up and goes too far, and everything goes awry. So that complicates everything. All and all, the last few days has been sortta like backpacking. It has been hard and sometimes uncomfortable, but to me it is rewarding, and the good time is when, at he end of the day, the anchor is down and I retire to a warm cabin. I just wish I could share the entire experience.
The current really bothered me the first few days. It was always against me. Now I have figured out the pattern. It is either with me or against me depending on whether I am approaching an inlet or going away from an inlet, and whether the tide is rising or falling. But there are frequent current stations that predict the current, so I know what to anticipate. One day I had nine current reversals. It is impossible to co-ordinate those, so the thing to do is just live with it. When I know that there is going to be a long stretch, maybe five miles, I can time the currents, move when the current helps me and anchor when there will be five miles of bad current.
Yesterday I crossed the Savannah River into South Carolina, and it was like being home again. After five miles was Daufuskie Island, then Hilton Head where Grayson lived, and Beaufort and Bluffton where Will lived. This is one of Will's geologic areas. He was here last week doing his geology stuff. After this comes Edisto, where my father played when he was a boy, then the Holy City Charleston, where I went to school. Then Santee, where the Doar family originated, and the Waccamaw, a beautiful cypress swamp. I am looking forward to all of it.
Last night I stopped at Hilton Head. Frost warning on the radio. This morning it was cold, but almost no wind for a change, and it has been a spectacular day. I timed my entry into Port Royal Sound at the rising tide, and had good current helping me all the way up the sound, past Paris Island and Beaufort, up the Coosaw and Ashepoo. In the warming day and light wind I went 45 miles in seven hours. It was wonderful. Then I got to the Edisto, and everything stopped. Literally. The opposing current was so strong I was only going 2.5 knots speed-over-ground. So I anchored to wait out the current. It should turn around about 18:30, so I may just stay here for the night. No problem with that.
My only concern is the transmission drip. It seems to leak at about 150ml in three hours. So I stop every three hours, measure what has leaked out and add that much back in. At the end of the day I carefully read the actual level and get it to where it is supposed to be. The only time it is a problem is when the wind is blowing. The engine has to be off, and in the several minutes the process takes the boat can get in uncomfortable situations. But so far no problems. I will keep my fingers crossed.
Cocoa, Fla was 615 miles from Wilmington. Now I only have 220 miles to go.
Still smiling, and looking forward to rice 'n stuff for supper.
Bill