Going Solo

Battered and bruised we dock at Town Creek Marina via Boat Tow

Friday, February 24^th Continued:

After arriving at Town Creek Marina we were treated with quite the opposite response as when we arrived at the private yacht club-

We had access to a courtesy car, laundry facilities, bathrooms- all the simple pleasures taken for granted until you need them and don’t have them.  We decided to ride in Ford Taurus style back into Beaufort to check out a restaurant, the first we’d been to since we started this adventure, and got to enjoy some really fresh seafood at “Finz”, a casual and seasonal local favorite that had reopened for business that very day.  After a week of only eating things that can be prepared with hot water or can opener, this meal was sublime; complete with sweet potato fries- my favorite kind of fry:

Shrimp and Crabcakes and Sweet Potato Fries...capitol!

See the satisfaction on his face!  Mine too- AWESOME!

Downtown Beaufort, NC

Some views from the boat-

Then we turned our attention to what was ailing the engine, and replaced the air filter and added some cleansing agents to the fuel.  This got us over the issue of the engine shutting off after five minutes.  We declared this a success and hoped our engine troubles were over (although skepticism still hung in the air after such minor fixes).  Unfortunately, we didn’t have a chance to move the boat and really test out the engine for all too soon Antonio would have to return to Charlotte and get back to work and the real world. hahahaha!

There's only one mast in this picture... guess who.

 Saturday February 25^th:

Naturally, since up until now we had gotten used to forced backtracking in the face of adversity, the nearest bus station where Antonio could catch a Greyhound happened to be back in New Bern… so we found ourselves back at our origin point.  "Where it all began"-  After a brief “So long”, Antonio was gone and I was driving the courtesy car back to the boat in Beaufort- and on the way I crossed over the first bridge Bernoulli went under, not nearly as spectacular a sight from inside the car. 

Driving a car again, sort of a weird feeling going so fast while doing so little (dropping Antonio off in New Bern).

The view from above the first bridge we went under on the ICW... not as cool from above-

This begs the topic of how much more you get to see when you travel by any other means than car; granted it took a few hours to cover the distance (twice) that it took two days to do in the boat.  But in that time we got to see waterfront homes on the ICW, stranded boats, dolphins, massive boat yards, bridges and shipping ports, plus tons of wonderful swampy scenery.  We got to drink wine and congratulate the owners of a freshly re-launched yacht.  We got to struggle in headwinds and walk to gas stations in the middle of the night.  That is all part of the immense fun.

I’ve been travelling solo since Antonio headed back to the real world, and I have had many adventures in that time.  But I need to take a moment and appreciate (explicitly) how much fun it is to have a companion on an epic trip like this, and especially how appreciative I am for his help and opinions in the times of trouble we shared.  Bouncing ideas back and forth on how to escape this or that mild disaster we’d gotten ourselves into was invaluable.  There were many more than got described in this blog after all.  Which also brings up the point of how a blog, by necessity, only skims the surface of what actually happens on an adventure because, simply put, readers don’t have the attention span for all the details of a great adventure.  So I recommend embarking on as ambitious an adventure you can conjure up; it’s the only way to know what really goes into such an unrivaled and idiotic pursuit, and it’s totally worth it to try.  I definitely recommend picking a travel companion carefully; the right companion will be helpful and reassure you, while I don’t even want to think of what the wrong companion might be capable of.  We only made it a tiny fraction of the distance we meant to when we set out from New Bern, and by most accounts the results would be considered an utter failure.  But I don’t consider it a failure in the least.  On the contrary, we had a really great time, and we determined by the end that we had made the right choices in the circumstances, risking as much as we were willing to, and caving to the will of nature at the right times.  The adventure is composed of the events, not simply the reaching of a predefined goal.

Cheers Antonio!  I certainly won’t forget this one anytime soon!

So Antonio was gone and got to re-enter society and could stop worrying about threatening his own life… but I was still very much at the whim of the adventure gods.  I still had many hundreds of miles to travel before reaching the first available destination where I would have a semblance of a support system, which turned out to be Beaufort SC, where my uncle and his family lives.  Also, I was now in the hitherto untested scenario of having to dock and disembark without an extra set of hands, and any mistakes to be made would be mine alone, and the only person around to help me out of tight spots would be Morgan the dog, whose expertise was limited at best.  

I was effectively on my own, and I was spending almost $60 a day staying at Town Creek Marina.  Meanwhile, wind storms were still pounding the boat which kept me from leaving.  It was two days after dropping Antonio off in New Bern before I was able to pull away from Beaufort NC and raise the sails to continue the journey.  But I was able to get laundry done and restock the boat- as well as get to eat a meal with my parents who drove up from Wilmington to see me and my boat:

Monday February 27^th:

The mood (my mood) was cautious but somewhat triumphant as I pulled away and went past the shipping port for what I hoped would be the last time (and was, by boat anyway).  I was worried about leaving on my own- but couldn't afford to stay even if I wanted to, and I was anxious to reach a new destination- anywhere but where I'd been for far too long...

Pulling away from Town Creek Marina- striking out solo for the first time

I was able to use the wind for most of my endeavor that first day- saving the engine as much as I could.  I was still hesitant to trust the engine, if only because after all the trouble it had caused I couldn’t quite believe that a $15 part and a fuel additive could have really fixed the problem.  But I made my way by wind for as long as I could and got to see and do these:

Turning the corner, leaving that bridge behind (for the last time)

The sights as I moved away from the big shipping port 

This is the video I shot, you can probably hear the notes of caution and feigned excitement as I made my way towards what was next...

Unfortunately, I was right to be cautious, because when the wind died and I was forced to rely on the engine it wasn’t more than about 15 or 20 minutes before smoke started pouring out of the cabin, and it was clear I had bigger problems than a faulty and decomposing air filter.

Before I knew it I was dead in the water, and drifting onto the sandy shores of the ICW.  Again, I got to call Boat U.S. to tow me to a friendly port.  However, this time at least I got towed the right direction, further south, and away from the cursed Beaufort NC.

Nearly half of the distance made that day was by tow boat, so overall a pretty failed day.  In fact I made it about as far down the coast as Antonio and I did when we were on the ocean, but this time I was on the ICW side of the barrier island versus on the ocean side, where we were stranded.  I was delivered to Dudley’s Marina in Swansboro where the wind was picking up again.

The distance traveled in this post-

The Coast Guard boat that pulled up the night I arrived in Swansboro, just to make things interesting, and it leaving again in the morning- 

Over the next several days, while getting pounded by more windstorms that would blow me back north if they had their way, I learned more about how to diagnose the problem with my engine (because I couldn’t afford to hire a proper mechanic) and with the help of some of my Lake Norman boat buddies and the internet I tracked the problem to the raw water impeller- which is a little water wheel that draws seawater into the engine as coolant.  My problem was that there was no coolant running through the engine (hence the smoking cabin).

A bad picture of something about 2" wide- that black stuff is what is left of the raw water impeller

I was able to take their courtesy vehicle back to Beaufort NC, back to Town Creek Marina, where the mechanics had the part I needed… yet again in Beaufort.  

On the way back to Beaufort NC to pick up a new impeller

I like to go over every bridge I've gone under- just to be thorough...

It seemed no matter what I tried I just couldn’t get away from that town.  But at least the boat wasn’t coming back with me.  I changed out the obliterated impeller and ever since then I haven’t had any serious problems with the engine.  Considering that a working engine is a must for travelling on the ICW this layover of about a week in Swansboro was a necessary delay.  Additionally, I now know much more about my engine, which I’m sure will come in handy as the adventure continues.

So... here's to looking on the bright side!
Next Time:  Naval Firepower