Decisions...decisions...decisions...

I've always been really bad at making decisions. I always feel like I either don't know enough to make the right one or I can see two equally good sides of the issue and can't choose which one is better.


We're sitting in an anchorage right now with the winds sustained at 22 and gusting to 25+. It's a pretty exposed anchorage with a wicked current, but the Mantus is holding well, it's pretty warm, we have food, water, enough holding tank space, and some good books, so it feels right to stay here today, especialy since this is what is coming in a few hours:

Yet...we have seen other sailboats going past us on the ICW. There is that “if they can do it so can we” thought. Tim is restless and wants to go, but we got ready to go after seeing the other boats and then the wind gusted to nearly 30 and we stopped, just not being comfortable with the decision. If it was a wider path and a deeper channel we would probably be more comfortable but this is the narrowest and shallowest part we will have navigated yet. There is a lot of frustration in the not knowing, in the lack of experience with this waterway. Surely we are being too cautious, but the boat is our home, everything we own, so caution seems the better part of valor. We also have no schedule to keep other than being ahead of the freezing weather, and promised ourselves before we left to do this that we would never function under some self-imposed schedule. At the moment a book and a cup of tea seem to be calling.

Better!

Last night’s trip planning for today included a pick-up-the-anchor when the sun comes up and go. That would give us the best play on the tidal currents and keep Kintala’s speed above 5 knots. Those plans went bust the moment I stuck my head out of the companionway and looked out onto a solid wall of white. Mr. Fog didn’t depart until after a few minutes after noon, so neither did Kintala.

Once underway the ICW was much friendlier today, even with the current now on our bow most of the day and holding our speed to less than 5 knots. There was actual sunshine and, for a little while, we could shed the heavier coats without provoking and good case of the shivers. Winyah Bay was flat as a pond but the shores were far enough away that it felt like we were boating once again, not taking a ride at Water World. The Estherville Minim Creek canal was much wider and deeper than the ICW of late as well, all adding up to a much needed “good day”. (Several encouraging emails and comments helped as well. We are clearly not the first sailors to find the ICW an acquired taste – thanks all!)


It was such a good day that we pushed right passed the Minim Creek anchorage while figuring we had plenty of daylight left to reach the S. Santee River. And we did. Fifteen minutes after the hook was set Mr. Fog swept back in. Visibility can be measured in scant feet once again as Kintala is boxed in with solid walls of white.

If you see this you better be where you're going. This fog bank rolled in to zero zero in less than 10 minutes.

I settled into the cockpit to check the weather while Deb cleaned some spilled diesel out of the bilge. (Before dinner I found the leak and performed the ritual of the lying on of wrench.) Just as Weather Bug was telling of a dense fog advisory a solo dolphin snuck up on our port side and sounded just a foot or so behind my back. Wasn’t expecting that and almost tossed my phone into the drink.

Tomorrow looks like a wetter, not so nice day. But we are closing in on Charleston and that feels like progress (not sure why).

If you want a cute little demo of a cable ferry like the one in this pic, you can click here.