Sunday, 3/27 2016
Cape Lookout to somewhere on the ICW just before Camp Lejeune


I had to leave Cape Lookout, and I'm glad it was a grey and gloomy day so it wasn't so hard to depart.
Leaving early in the morning allowed me to take advantage of the rising tide to get up the ocean inlet at Beaufort. A favorable wind was blowing too, so I used the jib while on the ocean to speed things up. Then next into the Bogue sound and from now on I will rarely have the chance to use the sails.
I quickly learned that the ICW is often really narrow (compared with the Erie Canal, for example) and demands constant attention. The autopilot is not terribly good to use here, but I have to so I don't exhaust myself. The day stayed grey and rainy, but I was comfortable enough under the bimini. However I didn't take any photos of the scenery because of that.
All was progressing well and I was close to entering the stretch of the ICW that goes through Camp Lejeune when I felt the now only to well known sensation of Caprice touching bottom once, and then, before I could turn her away. hitting bottom really hard, almost as hard as last year at Assateague island.
Only, this time there wasn't any surf to shake me loose, which had been my savior then. We had hit so hard that Caprice even had a tiny bit of heel. And the tide was receding, which meant that every moment lost was making getting away harder and harder.
And the chart plotter was showing me right in the center of the channel!
I first ran the engine hard in reverse, but there was no movement at all. A powerboat passed but didn't give me anything but curious looks. I tried to use the engine with his wake, but it wasn't enough still.
I poled out the boom and put my weight on it to try to heel the boat, but it didn't budge,
A sailboat passed and asked if I was stuck but then said they wouldn't have the engine power to free me.
My next best bet was to try to use an anchor to pull me off. But first I had to inflate the dinghy, put the seat into it, get the oars, and then put the anchor into the dinghy and try to row with it. All was clumsy and slow, and the current from the receding tide was becoming more and more of a problem to row. I wanted to put the anchor perpendicular to the bow to try to turn the Caprice, since I had learned that she can turn and that would allow me to run the engine in forward, when it has much more power than backwards. In hindsight I think it wasn't the best idea, and by the time I had the anchor out in position and started cranking the winches nothing came of it anymore.
Another big powerboat passed and I waved for help. They stopped but didn't dare come very close, so I took my ropes and rowed them over to them, with the current and now torrential rain adding to my troubles. The powerboat guys weren't very clever about where to attach the line and would likely ripped out their cleat by now. As the Caprice was clearly heeling by now I told them thanks and to stop trying, as I was clearly stuck too hard now.
I had to wait for the next high tide which would be about midnight and in the meantime hope that the boat wouldn't heel so much that it would take on water. I'm actually not sure if the Caprice would lay down like that, or come to rest on her side at an angle that would keep the rail over the water level. I hoped that the tide wouldn't be so low that it would come to that. Caprice heeled more and more so that walking on her was becoming a problem, and I just sat on the settee and waited. By 6PM the heel had gotten so high that I decided to brave the rain and row around her to take some photos.





Shortly after I returned on board the heel seemed to start to diminish again, and by 8PM the Caprice was more or less upright  for me to resume normal life and make some salad for dinner.
John from Aquinna had recommended I put my stern anchor out and I followed his advice and tightened both anchor lines as much as I could. I decided to wait before pulling more and before running the engine, and by 10PM the Caprice suddenly floated free.
I was happy until I realized that I wasn't quite able to leave yet. To pull either of the two anchors up proved to be impossible because the current put so much pressure on the boat that I wasn't able to pull them by hand. Unfortunately I hadn't thought of this else I would have put the anchors over the main winches first.
Unfortunately because of the dark I didn't quite realize how exactly the anchor lines lay. I let out more bow anchor, thinking that would allow me to pull me close to the stern anchor, but this made things even worse. The current was now hitting the Caprice broadside, and there was no way to move her, unless I wanted to cut one of the anchor lines. It took me a little to figure out what was going on, and I think the only way to explain is graphical:



This diagram shows the initial position of Caprice and the two anchor lines in blue. The current during ebb tide had been pushing her left, but then she was stuck on the mud anyways. When the tide changed, she floated free and the current pushed her back into the first position with both anchor lines holding her, but at great tension. Letting out the bow anchor more at this point made it worse by letting her swing to have even more pressure. At this point I had to stop and wait for the current to stop.
I needed time to consider my next move. Where would I go in the dark, when it's really not easy to find the channel? It would be the top of high tide, and running aground again would be a much worse problem since then I would be truly stuck for good. I decided to stay where I was and in the channel, and wake up early enough to avoid any collision with traffic.
It took another 4 hours, and at 2AM the current became weak enough for me to pull in the bow anchor gradually to just 75 feet, and then haul in the stern anchor until we were almost on top of it and able to pull it up. I had to hurry now to avoid hitting the shallow spot again and powered forward and past the bow anchor and eventually to a spot where I could drop the stern anchor again, but this time in line with the canal. And I put the lines over the winches to be able to haul them in the morning.


Monday, 3/28

Somewhere on the ICW to Masonboro



I went to sleep for 3 hours and was up again at 6:30. A fishing trawler appeared in the distance and I hurried to pull the anchors out and get out of his way, and headed towards Camp Lejeune. This huge military training camp frequently puts on live fire exercises and closes the ICW for traffic. I had even seen the warning flashers last night, and their observation tower in the distance.



It was a beautiful day but a little windy. I passed plenty vacation homes by the canal side, some rather extravagant:


I had a few close calls with getting into shallow water and because of high tide, was a bit nervous to get stuck again. I find the ocean and the Great Lakes much more relaxing, really.



There are plenty opening bridges on the ICW that a sailboat cannot pass until the bridge is open. Unlike on the Erie Canal, the bridges don't open anytime a boat comes, but have a schedule. Some of the bridge tenders are rather strict and will not wait for a boat even a minute. Some cruisers plan carefully ahead to time the bridges right, but I hadn't bothered with it, I didn't even know which bridges were ahead. One usually can see them several miles ahead and I simply either slowed down or sped up to time it right. I hadn't yet realized that even if I'm right next to the bridge, obviously waiting, some bridge tenders want to be called on the radio to ask for an opening anyways. I learned that today when I arrived at a bridge with 10 minutes to spare, and when the full hour passed he didn't open. I called him and he responded that I hadn't called him in time...
That unfortunately meant I had to wait for another half hour, and then subsequently missed an opening on the next bridge where it cost me an hour delay. Meanwhile I passed two reputedly difficult spots (Brown Inlet and Mason Inlet) and went really slow, now paranoid of running aground.
By the time I passed Wrightsville Bridge the sun was almost setting and the marina I had planned to stay at was still an hour away. Dave, the guy running the marina, was really helpful on the phone though and made sure to give me precise instructions and ensure somebody would be on the dock to help me in. All went well and I could finally have a nice warm freshwater shower...
I met an older guy called Jimmy in the lobby of the marina who was very curious about my boat. He turned out to be a Pearson Vanguard owner, which is a very similar boat to mine, just a little smaller. We talked forever and I invited him on to look around and he listed all the stuff he had done on his boat,
He left promising to give me a lift into Wilmington tomorrow and I finally could go to sleep...