Exploring Charleston

Charleston, South Carolina - 12 kilometres walked

Our first full day in Charleston. We both had high hopes for this city and were not disappointed. After finding a space on the dinghy dock we started walking east along a residential street. The ground was wet and looked to have been recently flooded, which we learned is a regular occurrence here in this low-lying city. The combination of rain, wind and King tides (which are the exceptionally large tidal differences that happen when the sun, moon, and Earth are aligned) can jack the tides by several feet, creating coastal flooding. The remnants of flooding didn’t last long and soon we were walking through an area with beautiful houses, many converted to student housing as several buildings of the College of Charleson were also in this area. We were struck by the vegetation and how different it was from towns just a hundred miles further north. It was also a perfect day for walking – overcast, humid, and pleasantly warm.

 

We soon reached King Street and I was surprised to find the Southern US version of the Champs-Elysees. Ana’s eyes lit up when she saw the Louis Vuitton store and kept firing as we passed many more high-end fashion shops with a mix of other less stratospheric shops to balance things out. Although Ana rarely buys anything at these shops (luxury brands don’t do “deals”), she sure likes looking. While she’s doing that I just stand on the street and watch the people going by. Folks here were quite well dressed, but not overly so, and the quantity of tourists didn’t overwhelm the streets at all. The presence of students jogging, business folks walking to meetings, shopkeepers putting up Christmas decorations, and residents walking their dogs gave it a feeling of a very functional city and not just a tourist attraction. And yes, there were plenty of beautiful people there too, and judging by what some of the students were wearing and eating, we suspected they were endowed with healthy trust funds.

 

Around noon we found a cute little French restaurant called Gaulart & Maliclet and enjoyed a slow and spectacular lunch – open faced ham and cheese baguette melt with cucumber gazpacho, fresh fruit, and a glass of house red. I took a photo of Ana, as this particular moment for me felt very unlike anything we’ve experienced yet on this trip. Everything was perfect – a horse drawn carriage passing down the street, the spires of a white tower in the background, the shade from an umbrella casting a slight shadow on the ground, ideal temperature, delicious food, and – it must be said – not being at work on a Wednesday. We ate slow, talked slow, moved slow, and relished the moment.

 

After this we walked. We walked a forested garden pathway. We browsed a huge central knick knack market in the Latin Quarter with vendors selling elaborately weaved baskets, stainless-steel jewelry, custom candy, postcards, masquerade ball masks with horns and fangs. We walked the expansive jetty at the east end of the island, looking over the marshes with cranes stabbing at little fish. We passed the historical site Ryan’s Mart – a slave trading complex –  and read the placard telling its awful history. We peeked through locked iron gates at old money mansions, driveways lined with luxury vehicles. By the time we returned to the marina, our brains were sizzling pleasantly with sensory overload, attempting to process all we’d seen, smelled, felt, and heard. The last stop before returning to the boat was to find Hope’s End – a boat nearly identical to ours, the owners of which I’d connected with online and we’d been in communication for weeks as we both worked our way southward. We did find them and had a short chat with John and Becca, who are lovely folks and we hope to meet them and compare boat notes in the next couple of days.

 

Our original plan to meet with Adrian and Sara during the day hadn’t worked out, but they invited us to dinner at the Marina Variety Store Restaurant. We met them at 6 and had an amazing time over a fantastic seafood dinner, drinks, and even a tequila shot to wrap things up! After dinner we all dinghy’d over to their boat (a beautiful SeaRay 420 they recently purchased) for a nightcap and continue our conversation. Sadly, Sara was leaving the next day, but Adrian was staying around for a few days so we would definitely be hanging out more.

By the time we returned to SeaLight the wind had kicked up, and before long it was howling a scary gale, swinging the boat from side to side, whistling through the rigging. I fell asleep effortlessly but Ana stayed awake for a long time, terrified the anchor was going to rip out and the boat would be blown into the shallows. But the anchor held fast.

Charleson, South Carolina. And Making My Wife Laugh.

Charleston, South Carolina - 4 kilometres walked

At 4am the winds finally dropped to below 10 knots, providing for a much gentler ride and by the time we reached the inlet at Charleston the waters were glassy and a small pod of dolphins was there to greet us. I had an hour long nap in the cockpit while Ana watched the helm and I felt surprisingly good after that, considering I’d been up since midnight.

 

We anchored in the Ashley River then I got out the bucket and gave SeaLight’s decks a good salt water scrubbing while Ana cleaned up the cockpit and cabin. The water here isn’t nearly as brown as most of the ICW up to this point, but still I’m hoping for a good rainshower to give her a fresh water rinse.

 

By the time we left in the dinghy, the ebb current was raging along at 3-4 knots so we powered against that into the dinghy docks at the Safe Harbour Charleston City MEGADOCK. The dinghy dock must have had at least 20 dinghies jammed in and we could not find a space for ours. Instead we started tying up to the nearby bridge connecting the main rigid dock to the floating dinghy dock, but a local who passed by said that was a bad idea as he’d seen dinghies squashed and punctured beneath the bridge as the tide fell, and the tide rises and falls a full six feet here. Fortunately, a guy returned to his dinghy and left, which opened up a space, and we were able to ram, jam, and cram ours in. I also had to walk to the main marina office to pay the $5/day usage charge, and it was a very long walk due to the size of this marina.

 

After the long ocean trip our goal today was modest – get groceries. We walked to the Publix grocery store which was less than a mile and stocked up on things we needed. During our walk I noticed some big differences here – we are now seeing rows of fully grown palm trees and Ana even spotted a little green lizard sunning himself on a concrete step. Beaufort felt like our first baby step into the south; Charleston feels like we’ve arrived. The temperature was also a balmy 23 degrees, which felt even warmer after Ana showed me the picture my Mom sent of the results of a big snowstorm in Saskatoon last night – six inches of fluffy white snow covering everything.

Back at the boat, we received a call from our friend Adrian from Kingston, Ontario. He and his wife Sara are in Charleston for a few days so we made plans to spend the day with them tomorrow which is sure to be a blast.

 

What I really wanted to write about today is making my wife laugh. I think a lot of husbands spend a great deal of time and energy trying to get a laugh out of their wives, and I’m no exception. But Ana’s not easily entertained or impressed. She gets this from her mom. Maria is such a sweet lady but man, is she hard to impress. But who doesn’t enjoy a challenge? A few days ago Ana and I were at a grocery store and wandered through an aisle with all those easy to make cake mixes. As her birthday is coming up, we decided to buy two so we could have a tester to make sure it turned out, ensuring her birthday cake is spectacular. As I had also been on the lookout for a secondary anchor for the boat, I suggested I buy her a fabulous Danforth for her birthday, you know, like a real special nautical gift. She didn’t even crack a smile. In fact, I think I was threatened with violence. That night when we were having a phone call with our relationship councillors Ben and Kate, I mentioned the idea, and said the anchor would be a symbol of our steadfast love – sturdy and immovable. Ana didn’t laugh. Neither did our councillors. They just said it was a bad idea.

I often use the power of dance to get a laugh. I can sometimes get a chuckle out of her with a surprise Macarena, a sloppy Moonwalk, or sometimes the parts of The Ketchup Song dance I can remember, but usually she’s just embarrassed because I’ll do it at the grocery store or at one of her art exhibition opening galas.

 

One move that’s a sure hit that every guy knows is twirling your penis like a helicopter and making the rotor sound, like at the beginning of MASH, then pretending the power of the dick rotor is pulling your body around the house. That always gets a laugh, but you can’t overuse it, and doing it in public spaces is really frowned upon by the authorities, not to mention the general public. I didn’t invent that one. I think my brother told me about that move years ago, as he found reasonable success with it getting wife giggles.

 

I have some tough competition for humour. And that competition would be her phone. She’s always laughing at things on there, usually memes sent by Magnus or Stella, often about cats or dogs or monkeys or little kids getting knocked over. The other day she was laughing at one reel that had a series of little kids looking at a frog then the frog jumps up and sticks to their face and they freak out. It was pretty funny. But the memes she’s into recently is this weird little woodchuck-like creature called a Hyrax that makes this awful screeching noise, then overlaid with lines like, “When I see my sister wearing one of my shirts that still has the tag on it.” I know, sounds dumb, and it is. But she laughs at these every morning. But I don’t know how to make memes. I’m thinking I should learn.

 

What I really rely on is my writing. I write early in the morning before Ana is awake so I have time to try and build some humour into my journals. I’ll sometimes peek at her from around the corner when I know she’s reading one, hoping to get a grin, a chuckle, or the ultimate – a laugh out loud. Sometimes I do, usually I don’t. She’s a tough customer, but I love her and I will keep trying to tickle her funny bone.

It seems the best laughs I get from Ana are the unintentional ones. Yesterday I made grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch during our bumpy ocean ride. I am not a particularly particular person, but I do like to eat my grilled cheese sandwiches a certain way. I squirt a pool of ketchup on my plate then right beside it I squirt the exact same amount of mustard. The sandwiches need to be cut in half, preferably corner to corner. I then alternate dips between ketchup and mustard and enjoy every bite. Well, I had also chopped up a bunch of vegetables and after grabbing a cucumber slice I accidentally dropped it into the pool of mustard. She burst out laughing. And laughed even harder when I fished it out and ate it.

Maybe I'm trying too hard.

28 Hour Ocean Run to Charleston

Wrightsville Beach to Charleston, South Carolina  – 124 nautical miles sailed

We had a decision to make. At this point in our journey we had the option to either continue along the ICW into South Carolina, passing through Myrtle Beach, Georgetown, and a number of other smaller towns, or we could take a 124 mile, 28 hour ocean passage directly to Charleston. The first option would be safer, but much slower, and one big problem was that there didn’t seem to be much of anything for anchorages and few marinas for the first 60 miles. Besides that, we were told that the stretch of ICW between Georgetown and Charleston is very shallow in spots, so we could foresee this being even slower as we would have to time our passages with the tides.

 

The other option had its problems too. First, there were 15 knot south-west winds forecasted for the day, which we’d be taking right on the bow so there would be no sailing and we’d have to motor all the way into two foot waves which means rising and crashing and general boat pulverization. Secondly, we had to pass through the Cape Fear inlet to get to the ocean and there would be an outgoing tide meeting the incoming wind, which is a recipe for tall and dangerous standing waves that can sometimes be impossible to get through.

 

We agonized over the decision, especially me. I was honestly scared to take the inlet as I expected the worst conditions. But after seeing the parade of boats heading our way on the ICW this morning I had my doubts we’d be able to find a place to anchor for the night. So what did we do? Well, seems like I sometimes do learn from my mistakes because I found a marina that was located right at the start of the inlet and called them to ask what the sea conditions were likely to be getting out. One of the staff was happy to speak to me and said there would be some rough water stirred up by the waves and tides, but not terrible so he didn’t think we’d have any trouble.

We decided to take the inlet, and if conditions were scary there or out on the ocean, then we’d simply turn back and proceed along the ICW. Yes, it could have cost us a few hours, but the potential time savings we’d achieve with an ocean run could then be spent exploring Charleston, which was especially appealing as the weather forecast for the second half of the week looked dicey and not great for travel.

The inlet was rough to be sure, and scary for a moment or two when standing waves nearly brought our boat to a halt, but we made it out and the ocean condition in the open water away from the inlet was acceptable. So we set the autopilot and started the first of many hours crashing through the waves.

As the sun dropped below the horizon and darkness fell, I realized how utterly terrifying this moment would be for somebody who had not done overnight passages before. First, darkness on the ocean or in the middle of a giant lake is not the same as land darkness; there is no ambient light. You cannot see the shape of the waves. You cannot see any potential obstructions in the water. And the only indication of land are the twinkling lights that look very, very far away. Add to that the noisy engine (and the fact that you are relying completely on that one engine) and the incessant and distressing pounding of the boat hull against the waves, which sometimes sounds like the boat is being ripped in half. At that moment of dusk we were about 25 miles offshore, there were no boats in sight, and we hadn’t seen one since leaving the inlet, so one feels very much alone.

 

We’ve opened an invitation for friends and family to join us for parts of this trip. But after what we’ve experienced so far, I really don’t know how enjoyable it would be for a visitor. Sure, the cities have been great and some of the small towns are nice, but the long days on the water can be grueling, monotonous, and offer very little of interest to see. So for the visitor’s sake, I’d say that the city visits would be best, but it is difficult or impossible to time these with any level of accuracy. For example, we didn’t think we’d be reaching Charleston for at least a week from now, but we will be arriving tomorrow because of the decisions we made to take advantage of favourable weather windows. If we had missed some of those windows then we could have been arriving in Charleston a week later than we’d estimated. Before starting the trip we were overly optimistic that we’d be able to work this out for visitors, but we’ve realized it is very difficult, which is probably why none of the other boaters we’ve met along the way plan to have visitors. This should get somewhat easier in the Bahamas as we will be situated in a smaller area for about two months, and we do have friends booked to come at the end of February, which we are very excited about.

I will finish this journal off by noting that the ocean water temperature is now 23 degrees C and just a couple of days ago it was 19.5. It seems we are headed in the right direction.

Back on the Ocean…and Finally Get Some Sailing

Beaufort to Wrightsville Beach  – 70 nautical miles sailed

My eyes popped open at 6am after staying up staggeringly late last night (nearly 11) trying to catch up on the series episodes (Outer Range and Fallout) I keep falling asleep for and holding Ana back. We had the regular preparatory tasks to do – boil water, activate navigational equipment, clean water and fog off the cockpit windows, haul anchor – to be out of here at first light to make the 70 mile ocean trip to Wrightsville Beach before it got dark. We had a few extra tasks today, as last night I deployed all our fenders around the boat and tied the dinghy along the starboard side as a giant fender in case our neighbours swayed over here again. Fortunately, that did not happen and all the boats behaved themselves.

 

There was a parade of boats throwing huge wakes on the way out the inlet, not to mention the three knot current we were fighting against so it took a while to get to the ocean, but as we reached the end, Ana spotted another pod of dolphins, so I think our sea mammal luck has turned. And shortly after this, we reached a major milestone; we were finally able to put up our main sail. This is the first time we’ve been able to use it since leaving home, and it was awesome. With both sails out we were doing about 5 knots in the light wind so we also used the motor as we needed 6.5 knots to get to the anchorage before dark. The main sail stayed up the entire ride.

As it was Sunday, we had a more substantial breakfast then normal, as is our tradition. As Corb Lund played in the background, we ate ham, cheese, and mushroom omelettes on toast as we sat in the cockpit on a glorious morning with the autopilot set to the heading and no winding channels or shallows to navigate. This open water ocean passage gave us a chance to relax and we realized the long days navigating the ICW really are exhausting as you have to be paying attention every minute of the trip and there are few straightaways for breaks. During the ride we did some administrative stuff, more route planning, got our new secondary anchor rigged and ready, did some reading and writing, and enjoyed the time on the water. We reached the Masonboro Inlet around 4:30, saw another few dolphins, and were safely anchored in a large and well protected anchorage at Wrightsville Beach by 5, along with a dozen other boats.

We had an early night and a peaceful and restful sleep at anchor.

Cigars, Beers, and Bumper Boats in Beaufort, NC

Oriental to Beaufort  – 21 nautical miles sailed, 1 bridge, 4 kilometres walked

The only excitement we had during our three hour journey from Oriental to Beaufort was being passed by a big powerboat named WEEZER. I radio’d him and asked if he had a Hash Pipe on board. He got it. If you don’t, just google it and you will be rewarded.

 

Getting into Beaufort was weird as there are several ways in and many channels around the various islands, but I had my route mapped so it was not difficult. What was tricky was finding a spot in the Taylor Creek anchorage already full of boats. We tried one spot but after putting out the required amount of chain we found we were swinging too close to a catamaran. So we pulled up, moved, then tried again and found a spot that seemed okay, but still had one catamaran and a couple of sailboats nearby.

 

A lovely thing then happened. Ana’s been real grape jelly of our friends Kate and Ben who have seen dolphins several times and a whale just to rub it in real hard. Well, Ana finally saw her dolphins. A small pod passed right by our boat and we got to see their grey curved backs rolling over the waves with little spouts of seawater spraying up. I hope we see plenty more.

We took the dinghy into shore and tied it up at the free dinghy dock then walked the town. Beaufort’s centre is compact but full of lots of shops and restaurants. Not much in the way of boat fixing shops, mind you – more vacationer type stuff. They even had a double decker red Beaufort Historical Society bus moseying around town with plenty of folks onboard listening intently to the interpretive guide sitting at the front, pointing at things.

 

Our journey took us to Big Daddy Wesley’s Grocery, which was really more of a giant convenience store, but we did find a pack of eggs and jug of milk, plus a package of two leafy cigars for $1.86 from a giant wall of them in various flavours. I fired up one of those bad boys after leaving the store and it was shockingly good. I was enjoying it so much with my eyes rolled back in my head and a cloud of smoke around my face that Ana left me leaning against a fence, conveniently next to a craft brewery, while she went to check out the shops. I puffed that little turd down to the last nub then grabbed myself a local IPA and sat on the streetside watching the world go by, and the historical bus. I met a lovely local couple there – Duke and Kara (damn, I hope I didn’t get her name wrong, she was so nice) and their two well behaved fluffy dogs. They weren’t entirely local, but were from a town close to Raleigh, and in Beaufort for a little vacation. They told me all about North Carolina and we talked about all sorts of stuff, along with Ana who joined us later, and were well on our way to becoming best friends but then we had to go to check on the boat and get the warmed milk in the fridge before it transferred into cottage cheese. I have to say it again – Americans are SO friendly and always willing to talk with strange Canadians.

 

We dinghy’d back to the boat but were waved over by our catamaran neighbours so we stopped to talk to them. The wife said she thought we were anchored too close, but told her we put out 90 feet of chain and had been monitoring our anchor alarm for movement and it was good and not infringing on their space. She said they had pulled in some of their chain just in case, then we ended up having a nice conversation with them.

Back at the boat we enjoyed a a cocktail in the warm cockpit as we enjoyed the view over the anchorage. The tide had changed and now the three knot current was charging through in the other direction, but our boat anchor seemed to have reset well and we were still holding solidly. A while later a couple from a different catamaran came over in their dinghy and told us the other catamaran had been swinging all over the place all afternoon during slack tide and they had way, way too much chain out as they were floating into the middle of the channel then actually floated all the way over to SeaLight and banged into her a few times. I told them it was probably our fault; maybe we anchored too close, but they said no way, our boat was circling like it should have been but their’s was out of control, and they hadn’t been on the boat to see it happening.

 

After thanking them, we checked our hull and there did not appear to be any damage at all so no harm done. But, yet another learning moment. When the tide current is running, boats are fine and well behaved as they are all being pulled in the same direction. But when that current subsides, the boats will start to wander all over the place as there’s no force keeping them in place, and this is where having too much anchor chain out can be a problem.

Every day is a new learning experience.

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.

A Peaceful Day in Belhaven and Some New Friends

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.