Belhaven – 6 kilometres walked
The plan was to stay in Belhaven for the day to sit out the approaching storm, then leave the following morning for either Oriental or Beaufort, subject to weather. So this was our day off!
After breakfast we went into town, got a roll of quarters from the local bank, then went to the laundromat, which looked to be a converted cottage, but was very clean and had great machines. Ana was shocked to discover we had forgotten the laundry soap, but a nice man there doing his laundry gave the rest of his bottle to us, which saved us a couple kilometers of walking.
We walked back to the commercial area we were at yesterday and went to the big thrift store to browse; Ana scoured through the clothing aisles while I focused on the cd selection. Now it could have been a real jackpot if I was more into Debbie Gibson, Conway Twitty, Julio Iglesias, Donny Osmond, and inspirational Christian music, but the only thing decent I could find was a Police/Sting anthology and a Bruno Mars album, then when I opened up the Bruno case it had a Lighthouse cd. Hard pass. I gave the checkout lady a quarter for the Sting cd and was pretty happy with that. Ana found a killer pink button-up shirt with dozens of flamingos that just screams, “I’m a Fashionista!”
We returned to the laundry, threw the clothes in the dryer and did some route planning and computer work while we waited. On the way out we noticed a bunch of local dudes milling around and the smell of fryer fat in the air and saw that another little cottage had been turned into a take-out place, and the guys there were workers grabbing a lunch to go. We were tempted to stop, but had our sights on Farm Boys, a burger and shake joint on the waterfront.
We walked back through downtown and stopped at an art gallery and cultural centre where we met the most lovely lady who gave us a full rundown of the town and filled in a few missing pieces for us. Before Hurricane Hazel in the 50’s, there seemed to be no memory of large storms hitting this town. After that one severely flooded the town the government implemented a program whereby they would raise your house above the flood zone in exchange for the home owner paying mandatory flood insurance for years after that, which is why we’ve noticed so many houses here built on pilings. We'd also noticed that high tide backs up many of the storm sewers, and some even had little fishies swimming around. Unfortunately her building, which she’d owned for three years and was at street level, had already been flooded six times since she’d owned it, once with 24 inches of water throughout. We also asked her about how the town supported all the fancy shops downtown when all the housing we’d seen seemed quite beaten up and the people we'd seen didn't appear to be particularly wealthy.
“Where have you walked to? That side of town?” she asked, pointing behind her.
“Yep, just there,” Ana said.
“Well, if you walk the other direction you will see a lot of nice housing, newer stuff, much larger homes. And this might sound awful, but in the early 1900’s this town was completely segregated – over there was the black area and on the other side was the white. And it’s never really changed, despite all the residents getting on together just fine, although the two groups tend to keep a friendly distance. It takes a long time for things to change.”
It was an illuminating conversation. It helps to explain why things are the way they are in the US, and how our issues in Canada are different, as we did not go through a Civil War nor have the same history with slavery. She also explained to us that Maryland was the dividing line between the North and the South, and we were now firmly in the South, which also explains the abrupt change in accents.
We grabbed burgers and milkshakes from Farm Boys and ate them outside beneath a canopy as the rain started to fall. They were delicious, just as good as the similar meal we had at the Shake Shack back in New York. Ana couldn’t even finish her milkshake and I was gutted when she had to throw the last quarter of it out. Sadly, I was too stuffed to finish it.
It was then over to Bad Moms Coffee for an afternoon chill-out with our books, cruising guides, laptop, great coffee, and atrocious Christmas music coming from the store speakers that was punishing to the customers and cruel to the staff. Sorry folks, Christmas music should start on Dec 24 and be completely yanked on Dec 26.
We loitered there until 4pm – opening time for the brew pub across the street, appropriately called ICW Brewing. Upon walking in we were faced with a row of 12 pour your own taps with little screens above them describing the beer in great detail. The owner gave us two glasses, one swipe card, and demonstrated the use of the taps. Tap the beer you want, hold the card up to the reader, start pouring and watch the screen as it logs the number of ounces and cost of the drink at fifty cents per ounce. That easy. As the owner and I were talking, and I was telling him we were on a boat, a guy at the bar came over and joined the conversation. Soon, we were knee deep in advanced boat talk and the owner retired to inspecting his tanks of beer.
Josh was from Colorado but had recently bought an Island Packet 38’ and spent the summer fixing her up and was now sailing her down to Florida. His friend Payton had joined him but would be flying back to Colorado in a few days and he would be solo the rest of the journey. Immaculate timing as our buddy boat Waddington was now at least three or four days behind us due to getting stuck with weather, so it seemed we had a opening for a new buddy boat for the next while and hey, there is always room for more. He is a very interesting dude and the three of us were having a great conversation so we asked him if he and Payton would like to join us on our boat for drinks and snacks. He said he’d have to check with her as the last time he’d found some new friends it hadn’t worked out too well. See, they were homeless heroin addicts he met under an interstate bridge somewhere in New Jersey as he was wandering around looking for a marine store. They seemed like nice people so he brought them back to the boat and it turns out they weren’t very nice at all. Who could have known? Anyway, he found a way out of the predicament. As they were rifling through the boat cupboards and stores, Josh and Payton surprised them with a blast of pepper-spray, then shot them in non-vital areas with a flare gun, then heaved them over the side. But as Good Samaritans they watched to make sure the wounded druggies were all able to swim safely to shore and take shelter under a new bridge. That’s just the sort of kind and generous people they are.
I picked Josh and Payton up in the dinghy and knew right away they were true sailors as they were wearing full sea-worthy rain gear and waterproof boots. The rain and wind had started so it was a wet and bouncy ride there and back but soon we were gathered in the cozy comfort of SeaLight’s cabin with a big bowl of guacamole, cheese, dips, crackers and lots of drinks to lubricate the conversation, and a fine conversation it was.
It wasn’t until after 10:30 that I dinghy’d them back in the worsening weather then I returned, secured the dinghy and boat and we called it a night, happy to have made some new friends.
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