Catamaran Delivery, Days 11 and 12: Georgetown, SC to Charleston, SC
Another segment, and another relatively early morning - we set off at 6:30am, with my alarm going off an hour before so that I could shower, shave, and feel human before a long-ish day of motoring. We cast off the lines and started moving in the dark, and I stood on the bow with spotlight in hand, helping our captain sight the buoys on our way out.
Until this trip, almost all of my sailing time has been at night, often in rough weather. A rough start, but it has prepared me for this kind of piloting, and we made it out of the harbor without a hitch.
We had a beautiful sunrise, as well. One of the things I’ve heard is that the sunrises and sunsets are amongst the most beautiful parts of this life, and while I’ve seen some good ones, this was easily at the top of that particular list.
The ICW between Georgetown and Charleston is equal parts beautiful and difficult. Much of the canal here is bordered by marshland, with houses few and far between. After the overcrowded McMansions of Myrtle Beach, it’s a welcome change.
We spent much of the morning motoring through very skinny water, the shallowest we’ve seen yet. Fortune held, however, as a larger monohull with a 6’ draft (we’re around 4.5’) was ahead, so we chased her for much of the day, ensuring we’d not run aground so long as we stayed in her wake.
The hardest part came when a power cat decided to blow past everyone, not even slowing as he did so, leaving us to cope with his wake. In fairness, this is the first jerk we’ve seen yet, so my complaints are light.
Our captain took the first watch at the helm, and I relieved him at 10:30am after ~4 hours, and hand-steered us through the rest of the day. The most enjoyable part of the day was easily coming into Charleston Harbor; after being in a narrow, shallow ditch for 8 hours, it was a relief to feel the swell and space around us.
Charleston Harbor has been a vital part of American shipping since the 1600s, and before modern dredging techniques, it was defended by a constantly shifting set of sandbars. In 1706, those same bars frustrated invading French and Spanish warships that intended to sack colonial Carolina, at the time populated by the English.
My passage was a good bit easier, as the sand is long since removed, and aside from some traffic in the shipping lane, I brought us into the megadock (it’s seriously huge!) and handed the helm over to our captain for docking.
Once settled in, we arranged for two nights here, as a major front was passing through the Deep South, and there would be gales and heavy weather the following day. We have yet to take a rest day, and we all needed it. But first, we had to explore the city - it was the first time here for all of us. We took the complementary shuttle into town, dined on oysters, and then wandered for a while, taking in the architecture, the gas-powered street lights in the French Quarter, the reminiscent-of-New Orleans feel, and then some serious southern BBQ.
The next day, the storm blew through, bringing serious wind (gusts in the 40kt range) and rain. I needed a bit of a break, and took advantage of the time to head into town. I had breakfast and coffee alone, doing some initial route planning for Joy and I, should we head down to Guatemala to dodge hurricanes next summer.
I made a run to Target, as well, and bought sheets for my bunk; Joy had contemplated coming along for a day or two, and I knew she’d hate sleeping on the microfiber blanket that had served as mine until now. (We ultimately decided against it, as we couldn’t make the timing/flights work in a reasonable way, but even so, cotton sheets were a nice upgrade.)
I also replaced my phone, as my older iPhone was no longer holding charge - something I’d put off, but knew I needed before we set off ourselves. I also replaced the handheld VHF I’d clumsily knocked into the water a few days prior (feeling incredibly foolish and terrible for doing so), and bought a new mid-weight rain jacket and sweatshirt to cope with the changing weather as we headed further south.
Upon returning to the boat, another problem had arisen: a faulty water pump. While I (and I imagine our captain) could both wire in a new one ourselves, on a delivery, it was important to have it done professionally and correctly. Thankful for the marina staff, the pump was replaced within a few hours. Cruising really does seem to be fixing one’s boat in exotic locations - or in this case, someone else’s boat!
I made a provisioning run, and twice had Lyft drivers who spoke only Spanish - a great opportunity, and one I gratefully took advantage of, as I continue to work on my rusty high-school español. Upon returning, the captain and I did some route planning; we’re soon to be in GA, and our stops will become fewer and further between.
Tomorrow will be a big day, at 70+nm, so we turned in early.