Mark me as unimpressed...

It was a wonderful night anchored off the delightful town of Washington NC. We rousted out at 0600 and got ready to depart. At 0704 the anchor was aboard and we were heading through the railroad bridge out onto the Tar River, then the Pamlico, and up the Pungo River toward another (reported) delightful town of Belhaven. It was a perfect trawler travel day with light winds and easy seas. Having departed as early as we did the little more than 5 hour trip had us dropping the hook in Belhaven just before 1430. The plan was to wait out some weather for a day or two and explore another new town.

Truth to tell, the town didn't look all that inviting as we motored down the channel, through the break water, and then to the anchorage. The only other boat was a little used sailboat, mast down and looking forlorn. With First Light secured, the dink went into the water so Deb and Grandson Eldest could go explore our new, temporary digs. I stayed behind. There was something in the air that made me uncomfortable leaving the boat unattended. I am not very good at first impressions; in fact, I am rather horrible at them. So I kept my thoughts to myself as we dropped the Dink into the water and got it ready to travel.

Unlike boats with davits, our Dink sits edge down on the swim platform. The outboard stays attached but all the other stuff, seat, number boards, oars and fuel tank, have to be loaded and unloaded every time it goes in or out of the water. Still far, far better than the hassle it took to launch the dink from Kintala, so no complaints. After the crew motored away, I settled in for a bit to play some Uke. I was barely warmed up and working through a song I like but the crew isn't so fond of, when the dink bumped into the swim platform. 

“That wasn't a very long trip.” 

“That's because we are leaving. The dock master was unfriendly, even rude when asked about a laundry. The few locals we ran across while walking into town were not any better.” The town itself is dingy and full of bad vibes. No way we are staying here for a night, let alone two.” 

 Okay then. Guess I should have listened to my first impression. Nebo logged First Light into Belhaven at 12:51; and out at 14:59. In barely two hours we had anchored the boat, secured the boat, launched the Dink, recovered the Dink, got the boat ready to go, pulled the hook, and departed. Barely two hours after that, we were dropping the hook in one of our favorite anchorages from days past.

Styron Creek at the base of the Alligator / Pungo River is as beautiful as we remembered. It did take two tries to set the hook in the grassy bottom, but we are now solidly attached to Mother Earth and well protected if the 20+ knot winds forecasted for the next day or so actually arrive. There is a singe boat anchored a few hundred feet away. 

The vibes are good once again.

But when it comes to Belhaven NC, mark me as unimpressed.

Call the day "DONE"

 

Today was a long motor.  Kintala's anchor pulled out of the mud just after the sunrise set the water on fire.  Deb helmed toward the ICW, set the RPM in its "happy place" and we didn't touch the throttle again until pulling into Styron Creek; more than 10 hours later.  (Kintala has two power settings she likes.  One is idle, the other revs for 6.2 knots - no wind / sails down.  Don't ask me why that is, given new engine mounts and all the other shiny bits in the drive train.  But since any $$ that might have gone into a new engine went into the standing rigging instead; what the Westerbeke likes, the Westerbeke gets.)

The Albemarle Sound has a bit of a reputation for beating up on the unwary.  Today it offered barely a ripple to impede the parade of boats heading south.  At least the table flat water made it easier to spot the crab pots.  At one point we spun the head sail part way out, realized it was futile, wound it back in, and kept making like a motor yacht.  (There are some very nice motor yachts out here, by the way.)  The Alligator River was equally placid and we lucked the swing bridge timing so as to leave the throttle untouched as we passed through. 

Ditto for the Pungo River Canal; an excruciating 20 mile ditch hacked through a swamp.  It has a single kink in its whole length and is ugly as sin.  About the only thing we saw moving (save for the boats) were vultures and wasps; a dozen or so of the latter buzzing the boat for miles.  We had planned on taking the channel down the East side of Roanoke Island with the hope of sailing the Pamlico Sound; it looks like a much more enjoyable route.  The Pamlico, however, has an even meaner reputation than does the Albemarle should one get caught out when the wind picks up; which it is supposed to do soon as a cold front approaches.

So the Alligator river and the Pungo Canal were the better choice, but it was a huge relief to launch the anchor off the bow and call this day "DONE". 

Coffee Meter: 10
On the menu for today