A few Bumps along the Way to Deltaville

Avid readers will know by now that there are two rules to sailing, taught to us in our very first sailing lesson at North Cape Yacht Club – 1. Stay on the boat 2. Don’t hit anything hard.

By March 16, 2025, we had traveled more than 5,000 nautical miles and visited many states and one other country. Thankfully, we have managed to stay on the boat the whole time. The only man-overboard situation so far had been a fender in the Chesapeake but we recovered him unharmed. Don’t worry, I’m knocking on wood as I’m writing this post.

We have not been as successful at the “don’t hit anything hard” part. Overall, we have not hit anything too hard but there have been quite a few bumps along our way. Our journey north from Cape Canaveral to Deltaville, VA included a few more “bumps”. Instead of detailing our day-by-day trip up the coast, I’m going to summarize some of those literal and proverbial bumps.

The Lost Boat Hook

Our first day back in the US was forecasted to be a windy one. Instead of staying put in the expensive slip at the Cape Canaveral Yacht Club for the next three days, we opted to head to Titusville via the ICW. First, we had to get through the Cape Canaveral lift bridge and lock. We went into the small lock feeling confident, we had done 40+ locks at this point. Our confidence was soon shattered when we couldn’t get our lines tied around the broken cleats. As we struggled with the gusty wind pushing us sideways in the lock, our engine alarm started going off – it was overheating. As Lucas was trying to figure out the engine issue, I was trying to hold our 40,000 lbs boat to the wall with our trusty boat hook. Long story short, the boat hook fell in the water and was impossible to recover. RIP West Marine boat hook, thank you for your service. We somehow managed to get ourselves out of the lock, fixed the engine issue and navigated to the Titusville Municipal Marina where we sat at a dock thinking about our life choices for the next three days.

New boat hook to replace our fallen comrade.

Pizza and F1 to recoup from our lock fumble.

Back on the ICW again.

Dodging Freighters and an Aircraft Carrier

Emotionally recovered from the lock incident, we took the ICW from Titusville to Fernandina Beach, FL over the next few days. We got another good weather window for a hop from Fernandina to Charleston, so we headed back out to the Atlantic. All was well (including seeing our best dolphin bow riding show of all time!!) until we got close to Savannah in the middle of the night. We were trying to sail as much as we could but the wind was shifty, so Lucas had to do a few tacks as he worked his way through the freighter anchorage. These massive ships anchor outside of the harbor entrance to wait their turn, sometimes waiting for multiple days. Around 1 a.m., when we had almost cleared the field, Lucas saw a vessel only with lights indicating “a vessel restricted in its ability to maneuver”, it was very large, was not on AIS and made many loud and strange noises. A little unnerving in the middle of the night. He set our course as far away from this thing as possible but it was hard to know where exactly it was. We got past it and switched shifts. A few hours later, I heard a distant call on the radio from “Warship 78”, we realized the weird ship in the middle of the night was the Gerald Ford, the newest aircraft carrier in the US Navy!

We stayed for two days in St. Augustine – one of our favorite stops.

Another day, another tight docking situation. I was very impressed that Lucas got us in this spot.

Another beautiful sunrise as we headed out to sea.

All those green dots are container ships waiting to enter Savannah Harbor.

Hard Aground in Myrtle Beach

After two stressful overnight passages in a row and some upcoming uncooperative weather, we decided to stick to the ICW for a while. As expected, there were a few shallow spots along the way, especially north of Charleston but we followed the tracks set out by the great Bob423 and made it through South Carolina mostly unscathed.

As we approached Myrtle Beach, we knew there were some sketchy areas, including an area called the “Rock Pile”, so we did our best to plan our passage with the tides and bridge openings. Unfortunately, while waiting for a very slow bridge to open in downtown Myrtle Beach, with the current behind us, we veered off the channel by a few feet. Thud. And another thud. Then Alaya came to a complete stop. Shit. We were hard aground on a rock shelf. Boy, were our hearts racing. We were good and stuck. After eating some food to clear our heads, we checked tide tables and knew we had about two hours to wait before the tide would rise enough to lift us off the rock. We opened up every tap on board to drain our freshwater tanks (and lower our overall weight), we also launched the dinghy in case our rudder was badly damaged and we couldn’t steer. I called and found us the closest dock for the night and Lucas dinghied over to the dock to check it out. Then we waited. To add to the surrealness of this moment, we had run aground in this narrow channel with houses and docks on both sides. As we waited in emotional agony for the tide, some bros were fishing for catfish off their dock no more than 10 feet away from our stern.

A few hours and a few cat fish caught later, Lucas tested the steering wheel. After our grounding, it was completely jammed, meaning the rudder was stuck on the rocks. Now, we were able to move it back and forth – that is a good sign! A few minutes later, the bow started to shift towards the center of the channel and away from the rock – part of us was floating! Lucas started the engine and slowly eased her forward. She moved and it appeared we had steerage! We had been communicating with the bridgetender throughout the ordeal (“oh yeah, a sail boat ran aground in that same spot yesterday”) and she agreed to open the bridge as soon as we were floating again. Our dock was just on the other side of the bridge, so I started prepping the dock lines. In my haste, I didn’t drape my stern line properly over the life line and it fell into the water as we picked up speed. Lucas called out to me and I ran back. Somehow, by the grace of whoever you believe in, the line was floating behind us and not sinking towards our propeller (which would have stopped us in our tracks again). I hauled the line in as quickly as possible while the bridge construction crew watched (did I mention the bridge was under construction!?). We promptly docked and then got off the boat as quickly as possible. We walked to the nearest restaurant and ordered a cold drink and some fried food before having a long discussion about our life choices. Boat life, best life.

Lucas’ view of Alaya hard aground.

My view from the mothership as Lucas took depth soundings from the dinghy.

Proof of life for our parents the day after our grounding. We are still smiling!

The rest of the trip north wasn’t nearly as eventful. We even managed to have some fun along the way and still like each other and Alaya. We pulled into Deltaville, VA on Saturday, April 5. 106 days since we left. We waited in the anchorage south of Deltaville for a few days before moving to the northern side of the peninsula to our boat yard. We squeezed in one last heartracing moment when moving Alaya to the haul out slip on a gusty morning. Lucas kept his cool and executed an impressive close-quarter turn before backing into the slip with the assistant of the boat yard staff.

What a cruising season! This one certainly had some of the highest of highs and lowest of lows.