We're in Virginia!

Rain and wind at Broad Creek. The rain stopped, but the wind kept coming!

June 14, 2019

At anchor in the Lafayette River, watching the wind blow. A children’s sailing class is boiling around us, six or so Optimist Prams (maybe because the idea of them staying upright is optimistic?) turning and racing every which way, with the instructor’s chase boat weaving in an out among them. The wind is quiet now, but this morning’s class fearlessly battled 18-20 knots of wind, whipping around with much rattling of sails. They are braver than I am! Just imagine what awesome sailors these kids will be some day.

Meanwhile, those of us who are somewhat less than awesome are sitting here recovering from a ten hour long and stressful day of travel. We left the anchorage at Broad Creek day before yesterday and did our own version of battling strong winds most of the way to Coinjock, NC where we happily tied up next to the dock. The fact that this always means lots of chores (laundry, pumpout, refueling, filling the water tanks, and a shower) was offset by the certain knowledge that we were going to eat out! I get really tired of my own cooking. It’s good, but plain.

We were rewarded with 1) for me: sesame-seared ahi tuna and seaweed salad (seaweed with rice vinegar, sugar, and sesame oil), plus a side of mashed sweet potatoes so sweet it could have been pie and 2) for David: grilled triggerfish topped with crabmeat and a side of scalloped potatoes. We even had dessert – vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce for me and chocolate layered cheesecake topped with crusted pecans and chocolate chips for David. The restaurant at Coinjock is a definite must stop, just for the food. By the way, that’s only in cruising season. We were there last winter to look around and ordered a very mediocre meal off the menu. We suspect their excellent chef heads south in the winter to spend his or her hard earned summer money. 

At the dock at Coinjock. A great place to pause.

Resident purple martins cheeped me awake at 5 a.m. the next day, and due to an ominous wind forecast later in the day, we made haste and pulled out. It was an exciting exit: we were parallel parked between two other boats, with only about three feet clearance fore and aft. Some early bird neighbors helped push us off, but even with help we bumped the boat in front (no damage) and knocked the aft solar panel array askew. I chugged very slowly up the canal as David rushed around tightening the array.

Once underway, the current and the winds and Mr. P guaranteed we didn’t dip under 6 knots as we sped (for us) up Currituck Sound toward the North River. We didn’t want to get into another slugging match with high winds and contrary current, like the conditions we experienced when crossing the Neuse. The wind was quite lively (a steady 15, gusting higher to 18-22 knots) but blowing us from the port quarter (left-hand side to the rear of the boat). Rain and storms threatened, but never arrived. Somewhere in that trip we finally crossed over into Virginia.

The Virginia Cut is a beautiful passage, kin to the Dismal Swamp Canal we have taken in the past. We couldn’t go via the Dismal Swamp this time because it has been dredged to only five feet, and we draw five feet; we’d have been plowing a furrow the whole way! There was plenty of water along the Cut and plenty of company from large motor vessels. The largest was (according to our AIS readout) 102 feet and hailed from Rhode Island. For awhile we kept company with a power cat hailing from Corpus Christi; another companion was a trawler named Buster. We listened to him as he came up to each bridge on the way, calling “Such and such bridge, this is motor vessel Buster.” Good name!

The bridges were a source of stress, because they had set opening times on the hour or on the hour and half hour. If you don’t make the opening, you get to hold station while waiting on the next opening. A boat, unlike a car, won’t just stop and sit there; you have to constantly turn it, put it in reverse, etc., and fight any current that may be pulling you closer to the bridge. So we did our best to make the opening times, even if that meant pushing Mr. P to the max and putting out the staysail! Amazingly, we made all of them, all kudos to David, who figured out the route and the openings, etc. before we left the dock.

There is a lock at the end of the Cut, which I dreaded, but which turned out to be a piece of cake. The lock operators meet your boat, snag your lines with a long hook and put the lines around enormous cleats. Then you just wait for the lock to rise (or fall), playing out your lines if you need to. The rise on this lock is only five feet, so it was no big deal.

Railroad bridge (one of two) as we came into Norfolk.  The top part lowers to the railroad bed when a train is passing. I heard a train whistle as I approached the bridge, and brother did I step on the gas! It was a false alarm - train going a different way.

Finally, we passed under the big railroad brides to Norfolk and chugged past the sprawling Naval shipyards past all sorts of vessels being refurbed and repaired. About two hours later we dropped the hook here in the Lafayette River, and went below to recover. I lay down and promptly took an hour-long nap! On our original trip this way in 2006, we didn’t stop, but continued on past Norfolk to Hampton, Virginia, across the large stretch of water called Hampton Roads. I have no idea how we did that, other than the fact that I had a lot more steam 13 years ago.

A big front roared through around sunset (not that the wind had died down – it just kept blowing) and we agreed that we needed at least a day to recover. The only thing we really need to do is go to the grocery store, and that is a “need” only because we are out of snacks. :) So here we will sit until we are rested or until our snack addictions compel us to go forward.

Beautiful, if scary! Big front coming in with lots more wind. Big loading cranes for the container ships, trains, etc. behind us.