Oriental Boat Show and SeaLight Takes a Hit

Oriental, North Carolina – 2 kilometres walked, 1 mile in dinghy

We awoke to rain and cold so I fired up the diesel heater and put coffee water to boil on the gas stove to bring up the temperature in the boat. Since the boat show didn’t start until noon, I worked on taxes for a while and we had a great chat with Magnus who was on his second day of his two week school break, traveling around Europe. It seemed he’d visited the Ryanair website and booked flights everywhere they go, as his itinerary included stops in France, Spain, Portugal, and Italy. I was sad to break up his enjoyment of croissants, smelly cheese and cheap wine with questions about missing tax slips.

The Oriental boat show was excellent, particularly because the rain had stopped and the sun came out for the noon opening. At the nautical flea market we picked up a few small boat spares, but more importantly a replacement set of Raymarine electronics including a wind instrument, tri-data, and an E80 chartplotter, all in working condition, and exact replacements for our existing system, which still functions fine but is getting dated. We wandered through the vendor market, spoke to a few people and looked through the exhibits, attended a short seminar on extending the life of your boat canvas, then went to the in-water boats for sale at the Oriental Marina and toured two trawlers, and tugboat, and a beautiful 2004 Antares 44’ catamaran for the low, low price of nearly six hundred grand US. We also made one last coffee stop at The Bean, which was busier today with the boat show crowd.

As we were returning to SeaLight we were flagged down by a sailboat at anchor. We’d seen this boat before several times along the way south and in the Bahamas but hadn’t ever spoken to the owners. They told us that a couple hours before, the sailboat anchored ahead of us had let loose and crashed into the starboard side of our boat then re-anchored in the same spot. We thanked them then went to inspect our boat and found a series of deep scratches and scrapes along the side, no note, and there looked to be nobody aboard the perpetrator boat. We fumed for a while, discussing what to do. We hoped the owners would stop by and explain what had happened then we could discuss next steps. But there was no sign of them…until dark when I noticed somebody in the enclosed cockpit and a dog on deck. We did not see a dinghy on the boat so we didn’t know how they were getting back and forth to shore – perhaps another of the occupants had the dinghy out somewhere. In the end we decided to stop by in the morning before we left, and if they were not yet up then we’d leave a note with our contact details.

From this experience we take away yet another lesson. It’s a good idea to deploy fenders on both sides of our boat when in an anchorage, just in case a boat lets loose and hits us – then there is the hope that a loose boat will rub up against these instead of our previously beautiful hull. This is the third time now that this has happened to us, and fortunately there was no damage the first two times. And yes, we are slow learners.

After a delicious meal of chicken quesadillas we had nice long online chat with our friend Angela then called it a night. Actually, it was just me who called it a night – Ana stayed on the call with her for at least another hour as I watched half a movie on the laptop in the cozy vberth then dropped off to sleep.

The Piggly Wiggly, Evil Images in the Strataglass, and a Non-ride in a Corvette

Morehead City to Oriental – 20 nautical miles sailed, 4 kilometres walked, 1 mile in dinghy

The last time we visited Oriental, North Carolina, we liked it. After spending another afternoon here, we liked it even more, enough to skip the travel day planned for tomorrow and instead take in the annual Oriental Boat Show.

After an easy 20 mile run up the ICW and finding a nice anchor spot within the protected harbour of Oriental, we spent a couple of hours replacing the second yellowed panel in our bimini enclosure. En route, Ana had pulled out the threading from the old panel, then once we arrived I measured and cut the Strataglass using the old one as a template, we taped it in place on the canvas frame, then I held it while Ana carefully ran the edges through her sewing machine and firmly attached it with two lines of stitching. After putting the second completed panel back in place, we both stood in the cockpit, gobsmacked. It was as if the scabs on our eyes had been lifted, the clouded vision was gone, the blind could now see. It’s funny how you can get used to something to such a degree that you simply don’t notice problems any more. A similar thing happened a few days ago. The inside of the cockpit canvas had become speckled with dots of black mold. We’d both noticed it, but for some reason thought it would be impossible to clean. Well, Ana got out the bottle of vinegar water and a rag and voila, after some vigorous scrubbing, it all washed off, leaving a beautifully clean surface. Now, with the new panels in place, and the clear, unobstructed view, it felt like we had a brand new enclosure. There was one thing, though. As I was admiring the new panels, a demonic face appear in the corner, looking right at me and smiling a really scary smile. I took this as a sign that I should be playing more metal music on the boat.

If I were a young person, good with my hands, a bit artistic, into boats, and was looking for a career, I would be getting a job at any of the marine canvas shops, all run by cranky 75-year-old dudes that hate their lives and their customers but are very good at what they do. I would get a job with one of them, work for a couple of years to learn the tricks and the trade, then buy out their business, probably for the cost of the machinery and inventory as those small operations are worth very little despite the earnings potential. I would then transform it into a modern, customer-focused business, find good staff and train them well, then expand like crazy and become the go-to place for marine canvas. The place where customers know you will answer the phone in a friendly and professional voice, provide a quote, be easy to work with, build a beautiful boat enclosure, and charge them an exorbitant amount of money, but well worth it for the immaculate product, which is completed on time and on budget. We know from experience there is nobody young running these businesses and the demand is massive, with unlimited amounts of work. I better mention this to Magnus.

After tying up the dinghy at the free public dock in Oriental, we began walking and immediately saw a sign for the Oriental Boat Show, starting tomorrow, and the townsfolk were all busy preparing. In a park we found a large tented area with tables full of used marine equipment for a swap meet. Near the town chandlery was another tented areas with reams of product being set out for the show. Another public dock had three show boats tied up, for sale and available for touring. It seems we had a plan for tomorrow.

We stopped at The Bean, which is what I would describe as a perfect coffee shop. It has a few tables inside, a comfy couch, books and magazines to read, and a view to the harbour out the large bay windows. They have a nice selection of fresh pastries, a full coffee menu, ice cream and milkshakes, and a small selection of merchandise – shirts, cups, trinkets. The temperature is perfect, the staff are friendly, the music is soothing, and the vibe is quasi-backpacker. I love this place. We met a Quebecer family there, also working their way northwards, and had a nice conversation. I expect we’ll be seeing them again along the way.

Our next stop was the Piggly Wiggly grocery store, about a mile and a half outside of town. We were sad to have missed the Piggly Wiggly last time we were here but we weren’t going to make that same mistake this time – especially considering its colourful history. The walk seemed long and once again Ana had worn the wrong footwear and her shoes were grinding up her feet.

“Don’t you have any reliable footwear?” I asked. “See these sandals I’m wearing? They never hurt my feet and I can walk for miles. They may be ugly, but they never let me down.”

“Those sandals are hideous. Look, my Birkenstocks never hurt my feet, I just didn’t wear them today. Then for the winter I have a lovely pair of boots that are always comfortable. And I might have one pair of runners at home that are pretty good.”

“You own hundreds of pairs of shoes. Literally, hundreds. And you buy new ones all the time. In In fact, didn’t you buy two pairs of shoes in Morehead?”

“Sure did.”

“And 99% of them are uncomfortable?”

“It’s a fashion thing.”

I stopped my line of questioning right there because I had my answer. Fashion trumps all.

An old white guy in a fancy yellow Corvette (have you ever seen a person of any other description driving a Corvette? I thought not.) passed us once as we were walking, then did a big loop and passed us again, but this time he pulled over.

“How far y’all walking? Nobody walks around here,” he said, flashing his perfect white teeth and probably winking through his Magnum PI shades.

“To the Piggly Wiggly,” I said.

“Well, I’d love to give y’all a ride but there’s only one seat left here. See y’all later,” he said as he hit the accelerator and sped off.

After he spun out, leaving us in a cloud of pavement dust, Ana said, “He could have given me a ride.”

“That was a genuine non-offer of a ride presented as a sort-of-offer. That guy must be a lawyer.”

The Piggly Wiggly was just as fantastic as it sounds and we picked up a few provisions. They even had a cool looking Piglet Shuttle for boat folk, but when Ana asked if we could get a ride they said the owner was the only one insured to drive it and he wasn’t around. Instead, Ana found some little doughnut-shaped bunion bandages for her blistered feet, and a pot of Haagen-Daz ice cream to take her mind off the painful walk – problem solved. She even shared a few scoops with me during the return walk.

We cozied up in SeaLight for the remainder of the evening, quite excited for tomorrow’s show, and glad we would have a day off traveling.

A Turbulent Sail to Oriental, Backpacker Town

Belhaven to Oriental – 42 nautical miles sailed, 1 bridge, 2 kilometres walked

With another small craft warning in place and 25 knot winds, we had a Clash decision to make: stay or go. We could have easily spent another day here, hanging around, drinking milkshakes and fancy beer, but we had miles to cover and the forecasted winds were no stronger than they had been the last few trips, so we pulled anchor around 9am and headed south. Everybody else in the anchorage stayed put.

 

The north wind was strong, even gusting up to 30 knots at times, and the combination of the engine with the headsail pulled us along nicely, hitting 9 knots at one point. We did have a battle with the headsail at one point when we tried to pull some of it in as we were leaving one of the wider bays into a narrow channel and we had a hell of a time. The furler (which is the spinning mechanism at the bottom of the headsail that allows you to pull in the sail with a rope from the cockpit) was jamming and the strong winds whipped the sail back and forth, totally out of control. This rocked the boat violently from side to side, throwing everything around down below – dishes in the drying rack went flying, the portable icemaker slid back and forth across the cabin floor, our nice evening table light went for a ride, books fell from the shelves, clothes got scattered, and we’d find out later that we lost one of our boat hooks over the side so were now back to two. Fortunately the new one we bought back in Annapolis held fast.

 

So, lesson learned. I have a checklist I follow before departing and one of the items is “Secure everything on deck and in the cabin”. When it is calm you don’t need to do much here. But when it’s windy and the sails are up, it is far more critical to secure EVERYTHING. You have to assume the boat will be on its side at one point, as it was today. And it could be on its side tomorrow too, if not from wind, from a power boat wake.

 

We arrived at the town of Oriental at around 2:30 and got anchored in the still strong winds on a north shore, so the water was calm. Oriental is known to be a boater-friendly town and they dub themselves the sailing capital of North Carolina, and judging by the well positioned and built dinghy dock and the large recycling and garbage bins available for boaters, it certainly seemed to be. We found a marine store and went in to see if they had any anchors. Bingo! They had a used 35 pound Danforth anchor with six feet of chain in excellent shape – exactly what I was looking for. The cost? $150. I asked if it was negotiable and got it for a hundred bucks. They even loaned me a dolly so I could haul it back to the dinghy. 

We went for a short walk to the Oriental Marina and Inn to scope out the gas dock as we wanted to refuel here and get water and a pump out tomorrow. The marina is very cute with a decent amount of dockage, an attached motel, and a groovy tiki bar in the middle of it all, which I am sure has seen some action over the years. We spoke to the manager Tom who gave us a rundown on the fuel dock, but also a few tips on getting into Beaufort (our next stop) and where to anchor.

 

As we were leaving we noticed a hippy café across the tide water flooded street, and what looked to be an authentic backpacker came out in bare feet, skipped across the water, and trotted down the gangway to his boat tied up at the free town dock (space for two, and fully occupied). We went to the café to check it out and had to walk across permanently installed blocks of wood to get to the stairs as the flooded street was clearly a twice-daily tidal occurrence. Well, it was a great little place with a backpacker vibe unlike anything we’ve seen yet. The barefooted sailor’s girlfriend was there and she was barefoot too, and may have even been wearing M.C. Hammer, droopy crotch backpacker pants. A few others were there, one dude with his face in a laptop, an older gent reading on the deck, another flipping through his phone as he drank a latte. The server was kind, fully tattoo’d and decently pierced. We ordered a muffin and an ice cream then sat for a while, enjoying the view to the marina, which was also home to at least ten big shrimping boats, and all I could think about was Forrest Gump and his pals Bubba and Captain Dan.

 

We continued along our way for a longer walk, and explored some residential neighbourhoods, saw a nice ocean path with a few runners, then did a big loop looking for the local restaurants as we were thinking a seafood dinner out might be nice. We found Barcos restaurant, integrated with the Oriental Harbor Marina, but at 4:55, five minutes before the posted opening time, it was still dark and deserted, so instead we decided for dinner and a movie back at the boat. As we pulled out in the dinghy we were rewarded with a blood red sunset and Ana took some spectacular shots of the shrimp boats and the sailboats anchored in the inner harbour.

After that, it was all dinner, laptop movies, and sleep.