Charleston to Southport, North Carolina – 126 nautical miles sailed, 2 miles by dinghy, 7 kilometres walked
One thing we worried about in advance of the trip were the no-see-ums. These are tiny little bloodsucking midges with a nasty bite that leaves welts and scabs and itches like hell, far worse than mosquito bites. The problem with no-see-ums is they can easily squeeze through regular screen, making them tough to keep out of the boat unless you have the finest screen material for your hatches. We tried to find this particular screen before we left Canada but could not. We looked for it in every hardware store we could find on the way down, but no luck. Finally, in Fort Lauderdale we found an expensive roll of no-see-um screen at a Home Depot, hand me the money honey. Then, our buddy Stillman in Delray gave us a whole bunch of screen from an abandoned RV screen-building project he’d never gotten round to. By the time we left for Bahamas, we were ready for them.
The only problem was, we didn’t have any no-see-ums in the Bahamas. There were a few mosquitos during our beach campfire nights, but we left the hatches open on our boat all the time and never had any bugs, except for a battalion of non-biting, tutti frutti house flies at Black Point in the Exumas. All the screen preparation was for naught and the dreaded no-see-ums did not make an appearance the entire trip. Except for one place. Charleston, South Carolina.
During our previous stop here on the way south we were eaten alive by the little bastards at the dinghy dock and also when we stopped at the Safe Harbour marina to visit our friends on Hopes End. I got stung. Ana got stung. I am not lying when I say the bites we got there itched for not just days, but several weeks – those little devils were playing for keeps. During this second stop in Charleston we were better prepared and splashed on some Avon Skin So Soft before heading to shore, which is the only effective bug repellant that doesn’t smell and feel terrible. When we first met up with Gwen and Wayne we noticed their welted and scratched up arms and legs, and knew immediately we weren’t the only ones who’d been snacked upon by the thriving no-see-um population in Charleston. The good thing was the bugs didn’t seem to make it out to the anchorage so we didn’t even need the screens. But despite preparing as well as we could on shore, we still left with arms and legs covered in bites, itching like a man on a fuzzy tree.
This morning we returned to Charleston for a final walk before heading out in the afternoon for another overnight ocean passage, this time 126 miles northwest to Southport, in east North Carolina. It was a busy day in Charleston with many tourist groups being led around by guides on historical tours of the city. We took a tour ourselves – a self-guided one – of the Dock Street Theatre, an incredible municipal project where they rebuilt a classic 410 seat theatre from the ruins of a crumbling hotel. Upon the recommendation of the volunteers working there, we sat in the center balcony of the theatre and maintained complete silence while we admired the incredible space, which felt hundreds of years old despite being less than twenty. I closed my eyes and imagined a big band on stage, with little Joey blowing on the slide trombone, the crash boom bam of the drums, the rhythm section players all in purple suits, and the sweet music filled my ears. Next, we visited the adjoining Tap Room where we found some paintings of Victorian folks getting trashed, plus the recipe for a classic drink we’ll have to try when we get home.
Our final destination in Charleston was our favourite coffee shop, and the finest coffee shop in the world – Bitty and Beau’s. Each time Ana and I have visited a Bitty and Beau’s, we have left misty-eyed and full of optimism for the world, charmed by the young and beautiful staff. Tragically, incredible places like this are now under attack from the government, under the banner of obliterating the decades-long DEI (Diversity, Equity, Inclusion…how can these things possibly be a threat to a nation?) initiatives of every previous US government on both sides of the aisle, not to mention so many other public and private institutions. It seems so wrong, so shortsighted, and…well, just so mean.
By 2:30 pm we had pulled anchor and were headed back out to sea. There was a decent swell on the ocean, giving us a shake, rattle, and rolly ride, but the steady 10 – 15 knot winds from the south-east provided a nice boost with the headsail fully deployed. A few hours into the trip we were startled by a crashing noise and thought something in the cabin had fallen but then looked to the stern of the boat to see we had smashed into a huge tree limb floating in the water. Fortunately, the keel of the boat sustained the impact and not the propeller.
I went down for a nap at 9 pm but had a hell of a time getting to sleep and laid there in the v-berth thrashing around, flopping from front to back to right side to left side, insides shaking like a leaf on a tree, not able to escape the relentless sloshing noises and drastic rolling of the boat. I finally found some fitful sleep but woke up at midnight and went to see how Ana was doing in the cockpit. She was snuggled in with her pillows, blankie, and trusty device held up to her face, giving it an otherworldly glow as she played a game. I crawled into one of the aft cabins and there I was able to sleep and slept well until 3 am. In the cockpit I found Ana still wide awake, now watching a movie on her phone as the blue moon shone down, providing some spooky light over the black sea. I sent her to bed while I took up my night shift, after having her spot me as I climbed out onto the deck to clean the substantial moisture off the windows as they had become impossible to see through them.
As of the time of writing (4:21 am), it has been a peaceful evening voyage. I’ve had the magnificent Elvis Presley compilation “The King of Rock ‘n’ Roll: The Complete 50’s Masters” to keep me company, and which may have influenced today’s journal.
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