Saturday was a day for the record book.
I have been having a hard time with the currents. Down in Georgia the currents reversed often because I was passing inlets, and moving across rivers which could be flowing in either directions. Here in South Carolina my route carried me in the same river longer distances,and with the help of current stations I could plan when I moved. Stopping for two hours Friday to wait for the current to subside turned out to be a really good move. When I stopped Friday night it looked like I would have good currents starting the day Saturday. I had opposing current for only about two miles to start with. Then things got better. To add to the pleasure it was a beautiful day, warm. sunny, with moderate wind from the south-east, behind me, not in my face like Florida and Georgia gave me. I zipped up the North Edisto with the flood current, then down the Stono with the ebb. It was beautiful. The only dark spot was that NOAA radio kept giving high wind alerts for that afternoon. There are two drawbridges in Charleston that don't open in high wind. my fall back action was to stop in Charleston for the duration. At the first bridge the wind was still a mild 15kts. I called the second bridge on the other side of the harbor and they said no problem, so I crossed the harbor with the genoa out, going 7 knots. It was glorious. Charleston, with its new bridge, is beautiful. Everything was beautiful, including my arrival at the second bridge 15 minutes early. It doesn't open but once an hour, and if I missed the 14:00 opening, well, NOAA was still calling for 25kt wind with gusts to 40. If I had to turn around at the bridge I would have to go against the wind to get back to the anchorage. About the time I got through the bridge the wind started picking up rapidly. Genoa out with the wind from my starboard quarter (from behind me on the right side). I was going up the ICW at more than 7 knots! Wonderful! The wind now maybe 20 knots and I was really making time. Even the current was with me. I was feeling really good when...Wham! I ran aground! When Advent hits a sandbar at 7 knots it is really spectacular. It doesn't slide up on the sandbar, it digs in, and stops, suddenly. The bow goes down, she turns into the wind, the mast dips dramatically forward and the stern rises. Bill, now what are you going to do? (That is the equivalent to the aviators expression:"And there I was...) I was sideways to the wind, with the wind and current pushing me onto the sandbar. I looked around, and yes, I was still in the channel. There was a channel marker nearby and I was about two boat lengths inside the channel. The problem was that the sandbar was in the channel too. With the boat leaning to the side onto the sandbar I furled the genoa, which was pushing the boat over, put the engine in reverse and gave it full power. Then to my amazement the boat backed back off the bar and into deep water. I waved thanks to a powerboat that was standing by, and went on my way, without the sail this time. Now that story did not have to had ended that way.
The next surprise was that the current did not reverse at Charleston. I just kept on going really fast, past my first planned anchorage, then the next five miles father, then past my last planned anchorage. The next was ten miles ahead. I got to that one and was still going in excess of 6 knots so I continued. At 19:15 I was still going 6 knots but the sun was going down. I pulled into a really good anchorage at McClellanville, the wind still howling. I had gone 75 miles.
Talking to Will a little later he told me that one of his test locations was just a dinghy ride from where I had anchored. I decided to delay my departure Sunday morning and go check out the location. He also told me about an indian pottery mound close by that is a national historic site. It is not publicized and is not well known at all. That is its protection. At daybreak Sunday morning I built the dinghy, and first things first I went into McClellamville to find the church. I dinghied into the shrimpboat lined harbor and found a boat ramp where I tied up. All I can say, is that at 9 o'clock on Sunday morning, in the early spring, McClellanville is stunningly beautiful. The wide roads, old well maintained lowcountry houses, live oaks, spanish moss, outdoes even the most romantic notion you may have of picturesque. Every road I walked down was bore beautiful than the last. There are sidewalks on both sides, and they are about 25 feet from the road, which gives a very spacious feel, but that doesn't stop the live oaks from making a canopy across the road. I came across a historical sign marking the birthplace of Archibald Rutledge, a writer and hero of mine whom I used to visit at Hampton, his family plantation. His wife was a Doar, and because of that I was always welcomed. The Doar family originated here, and St James Santee is the ancestral parish. It is a small church, about the size of Trinity Chocowinity. Two of the marble tablets on the wall carry the Doar name. I was welcomed, and felt at home, and the service was exactly what I wanted. The recessional was "Lift High the Cross" and I gave it all I had. It was wonderful. And I enjoyed mini-sandwiches, cucumbers and olives with others after the service. Nice folks. I forgot to say that on the dinghy ride in, I passed about six kayaks pulled up to a dry bank in the marsh with the people standing in a circle. We waved. (I tried to take a picture.) Two of those folks were at church. Afterward I walked around town some, then back to Advent. Changed clothes and off again to find Will's research test data location. He has them all over the SC coast. They are a benchmark set deep in the earth below the surface layer. He measures them periodically to examine ground level changes and seawater rise. And there are out in the marsh, mucky, sticky, bottomless goo. I found this one, got to it without sinking waist deep in the muck and took pictures. My respect for my son just increased. When I got back to high ground I went to find the indian pottery mound. Will calls it a midden. It looks like a shell bank seen beside the ICW, ordinary until you see the pottery shards. There seems to be definite red pieces and black pieces. Will said that it was not hot-fired, but rather sortta cooked over or near the fire. However they did it, it has lasted hundreds of years. I wonder,why there? It is just an ordinary island way out in the middle of the marsh.
Back to the boat (you would have laughed to watch me getting in the dinghy trying to not get my muddy boots in with me. Quite a trick.) Up anchor, and go the 10 miles to the South Santee. Home By the River.
Bill
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