I’m not sure I ever imagined myself voluntarily heading out into the Atlantic Ocean at 3 a.m. on a 43’ sailboat. But that’s exactly where I found myself on January 4 and I was pumped.
Our first destination was Carolina Beach, NC. We planned to sail approximately 65 miles in the ocean and then tuck into the ICW at the Wilmington Beach inlet. Once back on the ICW, we would have about 13 miles to Carolina Beach where we would stop for two nights to wait out a storm. As we prepared for this passage, we reviewed multiple weather models, tide/current tables and sunrise/sunset times. We chose to leave Beaufort at 3 a.m. to make sure we hit a favorable current at the Wilmington Beach inlet 12 hours away and to make sure we could get to Carolina Beach before dark.
Just getting off the dock was exciting. First, we had to wait for our friends on SV Misty to leave the dock, and then Lucas almost pulled away without me. He didn’t realize I had left my regular position on the dock near the middle of the boat to take a picture of Misty passing our bow. Just doing it for the gram. Once we were both safely onboard, we turned left from the dock and navigated through the dark channel. We put our mainsail up while still in the protected waters and then bashed our way through a rolly inlet. The waves were bigger than expected, we really hoped they were magnified by the current in the inlet but there was only one way to find out. We carried on into deeper water, grateful to have a friend out there too. Luckily, the sea state improved considerably once we made our turn.
We comfortably sailed without Pierre all morning until about noon when the wind died. We motored the rest of the way to Wilmington Beach, arriving at a calm inlet around 2 p.m. It felt great to get our first ocean leg out of the way but we still had 13 miles to go on the ICW. It turned into a very long trip because we were pushing against a 1 kt current the entire way. We just made it to the empty mooring field by sunset. The trip didn’t quite follow our plan but it never does.
A small low pressure system blew through the next day but we just relaxed all day on our mooring ball. We did a whole lot of nothing which is hard for both of us to do! Once the wind died down a bit two days later, we headed out on our next leg.
For leg #2, we planned to motor down the aptly named Cape Fear River, fuel up at a Safe Harbor marina near the mouth of the river and wait a few hours for the tide to switch back in our favor. Then, we would sail out the inlet and travel 130 miles to Charleston with the wind on our beam with 1-2 foot waves (best point of sail).
Sounds like an ideal plan, doesn’t it? Well, we made a hot mess at the beginning of it. Our passage through the Cape Fear river went ok but the wind was blowing pretty good which added to the stress of it. We headed towards our selected fuel dock only to find the dock was completely full and they couldn’t take us. So, we had to quickly find a new fuel dock. Luckily, there was a nice but expensive one next door but we botched the docking thanks to the gusty wind. Then, feeling like we were inconveniencing the dockhards even though we were their only customers so far that day, we quickly left the fuel dock without a real solid plan of where we would wait for four hours as the tide switched. As we passed by the spot we had loosely chosen on the charts to anchor, we decided it was too windy. So, we opted for a somewhat decrepit dock at a nearby seafood restaurant that we had passed on our way to the fuel dock. We proceeded to botch that docking attempt too due to the same gusty wind conditions. Fool me once, right? Lucas had to make an emergency u turn before we smoked the dock. Then I had to scramble to swap all my dock lines to the other side to try again as Lucas made sure we didn’t run aground or into any other boats in the small harbor. Scrambling just before we dock is something I hate. We finally got Alaya docked at the too short dock without any physical damage to her but we had to use some additional lines to hold the dock together. Not a great spot. After all this, we were feeling completely drained from our many mistakes and it was only 10 a.m.! Not exactly the best mental state to be in just before an ocean passage.
We did the only thing we know to do in these situations, we got a snack and then had a long discussion. Afterwards, we decided to “start over.”
A few minutes into our fresh start, Larry and Ginny pulled up next to us, with the same basic passage plan. They invited us to grab lunch with them as we waited for the tides. At this point, I was ready to call off the passage and didn’t feel like being social. Lucas convinced me to put on our brave faces for Larry and Ginny and we ended up having a lovely lunch with them. Chatting and laughing with other cruisers who have been through the same tough stuff was just the medicine we needed.
By 2 p.m., feeling better, we made the decision to head out. It wasn’t a perfect passage, there were about six hours in the middle where I was wedged between two pillows in our bed trying not to puke, but the beginning and end were great. This was the first trip where we sailed, without Pierre, from inlet to inlet. We used more fuel to run our diesel heater than our engine! We pulled into Charleston Harbor the next morning around 10 a.m., docking at the famous Mega Dock. Ginny and Larry were a few spots down. I’m really proud of how we rallied and finished the passage after a rocky start. Sailing life can be so satisfying yet so humbling.
We spent the next four nights in Charleston, recovering from our passages and enjoying the lovely city. The weather was still really cold. On our third day, a big snow and ice storm rolled around the Carolinas. We were only 50 miles south of the snow line – brrr! The real treat of this stop was getting to see our friend, Emily D. who we work with on Mackinac Island. Emily is a joy and was a very good sport about sleeping on a cold sailboat in January. We enjoyed a bit of Charleston’s nightlife and did a lot of catching up during her visit. My jaw was sore from talking and laughing so much! We can’t wait to reunite with Emily in a few months back on Mackinac!
We motored out of Charleston Harbor on January 12 for our longest passage of the season. We had 200 miles to St. Augustine. It was a pretty uneventful passage, we motored the entire way. The most thrilling part was working our way around some huge unlit, but charted, steel towers. It’s weird to see these huge structures out in the middle of the water. The scary part for me was the uncharted large weather buoy that I nearly hit near one of the towers. I thought I was keeping a close watch but between watching the tower in the distance and the waves, I didn’t see the white and yellow buoy until we were very close to it. We comfortably missed it but it still freaked me out. As scary as uncharted stuff is, it does happen out there. We’ve learned that if minor incidents like that really freak us out during a watch, it is time for a break. Brains do weird things when they are tired.
We traded watches throughout the 30 hour trip. Lucas typically stands watch from 6 p.m. to midnight and then I come up from midnight to 6 a.m. These are considered long shifts in the sailing world but seem to work pretty well for our bodies. Even if either of us have trouble getting to sleep off watch, it is so restorative to just lay in bed and take a break from it all.
We had no wind as we passed the Florida/Georgia line in the middle of the night but then it started to build. It is amazing how quickly waves will pick up with an increase in wind, but it was a north wind, so it helped us along and we remained comfortable. We dodged a few rain squalls as we worked our way down the north Florida coast. We had a bit of a bumpy entrance into the tricky St. Augustine Inlet but made it to our mooring ball after catching the 2 p.m. Bridge of Lions opening.
We had officially made it to Florida on January 13 in three long ocean hops. This was a master class on winter sailing on the east coast, taking weather windows as they appeared, making whatever progress we could south.
