Wandering through South Carolina - Beaufort

[Hilde’s log]

First views of South Carolina, palms and pines.

I’m thinking of changing Raven’s name to Drifter, due to our very leisurely attitude since leaving Savannah (Just kidding; we’d never change her name!) Our first day out of Savannah, we managed a whole five miles, then plopped into a broad, marsh-lined creek and set the hook. The next day we wandered another 15 miles or so, and the third day we arrived in Beaufort, South Carolina. The good news is, we caught a mooring ball at the city marina. The bad news is, we arrived tired at the end of the day in 20 knot winds. I had to fight contrary wind and river current while David wrestled with catching the ball. On the best days we aren’t very graceful with this maneuver; that afternoon we were a wee bit testy with one another by the time we were done. A pot of tea soon put us to rights, and we were very glad to have a ball and not worry about the anchor coming loose, as they sometimes do in a lot of wind.

The daily commute, here from Beaufort docks to Raven on the mooring ball.

Our original plan was a couple of days on the ball, visiting good cruising friends Penny and Richard, who have settled here permanently. The weather forecast was for a lot of strong wind over the week, so we elected to stay, as part of our route on the way to Charleston was St. Helena Sound, a wide-open body of water. Strong winds against the current there would have made for a miserable ride. We have no schedule (yay!), so why sign up for punishment? We ended up staying a week.

Beaufort is one of those “sticky” towns – it’s a place that is so nice, it’s hard to leave. Succumbing to development (albeit nice development) is going to make a mess of it, but on the boat and limited to walking around downtown, you don’t have to interact with traffic. There’s a lot to see and do in walking distance, and no worries on the mooring ball, so it’s a great cruising stop.

It was very warm there most days, although with the clouds and a bit of rain it cooled off regularly. The locals were panting, but Texans that we are, we just shrugged. It is nowhere near as hot as Texas is this time of year. Just pleasantly warm. The no see ‘ems were all over the place, and they think I am just yummy. I slathered myself in a coating of “No Natz” which is a combination of flower oils that no see ‘ems (also called midges) don’t seem to like. Their bites are like chigger bites, so I call them “flying chiggers.” It’s really beautiful here in the low country, but those bugs make it a lot less attractive! Our friends here recommended a bug repellent lantern of sorts for days when there is little to no wind. We tried it once and it may help. Ugh, bugs. Good news: when the breeze blows, it keeps them away. We had no complaint with the winds!

Beaufort County is made up of a number of islands on the Atlantic Coast, close to the sea. The downtown area of the town of Beaufort is an old historic district, filled with beautiful 100 and 200 year old houses – all very “southern mansion” type homes. We splurged on a one hour carriage ride, about 10 of us sitting in an open air carriage pulled by a slow and patient draft horse named Angus. The driver told us all about the area and about the homes we were passing. At one time money was made here growing indigo (for the blue dye) and, of course, cotton. 

Angus, getting sweet feed treats after the tour.

A lovely, low-key way to see part of the historic downtown.

The most interesting person our driver told us about was a man named Robert Smalls. Born a slave, Mr. Smalls was sent off to school to learn a trade, evidently so that he could eventually buy his freedom. He started work on the waterways and became skilled in boat handling and life on the water. In the Civil War, he was so well thought of that he was left in charge of a large Confederate ship while the officers went ashore. He brought on board his own family and several other families of slaves, and stole the ship! Wearing the captain’s uniform, he sailed out of Charleston under cover of night. He knew all the signals to get past the forts, etc., and took the ship out to the Union vessels off shore. As a reward, he was commissioned as a captain in the Union navy and paved the way for other African-Americans to serve in the Union army. After the war, he came back to Beaufort, and became very active in the life of the city, founding a church and starting public education in Beaufort. He was well respected as a fair man (this during the ravages of Reconstruction) and a man of character. He found the wife of his former owner wandering the streets of Beaufort, destitute and on the verge of dementia, and took her into his home (which was the home of the man who had owned him – he bought it at a tax sale) and looked after her there for the rest of his life. Wow. He eventually became a US Congressman.

The houses, of course, are gorgeous. The city’s historical society has insisted that the area be preserved, and so all building and additions, etc., have to conform to the look of the era of the houses in the neighborhood. There are some “new” houses, but they were built before the code was established in 1973. All I could think of as we rode by was the enormous amount of upkeep each house requires. After all, they are built of wood in this hot and damp climate! Not to mention just the housework involved in such huge places. I’m glad to live on my tiny boat. I don’t have the housework gene, I’m afraid.

Wow, the porch! Picture me with a mint julep in hand...

A more modestly-sized dwelling.

We also linked up with cruising friends we met in Savannah, Tony and Ann, sharing a very pleasant breakfast at the must-do cafe, Blackstone’s. David and I spent a couple of mornings walking the old town, admiring the old churches and graveyards, and finding a cafe that had Blue Bell ice cream. We paid that cafe two visits, David lurping Blue Bell and me nursing iced tea or Diet Dr. Pepper and a grudge. I miss being able to eat those sweet treats!

No comment. Hmphf.

St. Helena’s, one of the churches in downtown Beaufort, was established in 1712; the current church building was built in the early 1800s. The inside of the church is all white, with clear glass windows everywhere. The altar was hand-carved by Union sailors who frequented the church during the Civil War, and it’s simply gorgeous. We’ve been to some wonderful old churches since we got to this part of the coast, all started in the early 1700’s! The “new” buildings we have visited were built in the 1830s and 1840s. Pretty old by Texas standards, but laughably new by European standards. In Canterbury, near where David is from in England, the cathedral was founded in 597, and the church was rebuilt between 1070 and 1077, and again in 1174, after a fire. The “new” church was built in the late 1300s. That’s old.

St. Helena's Church (Anglican).

Part of the old graveyard around the church. Vets from all wars are honored with flags.

views of Beaufort, SC

The photos are of (1) one of the beautiful mansions in the old part of town, (2) a tree shrouded in Spanish moss, (3) view of a marshy inlet from a residential neighborhood, (4) downtown Beaufort, and (5) Raven at the dock in the marina in Beaufort - she's the white boat with the little dinghy tethered alongside.

at the dock, Beaufort, SC 12-17-07

[Hilde’s log]

I must confess, I am happy to be plugged into the electricity at the dock this morning. The cold front finally arrived, ushered in by strong winds and rain, and the temperatures dipped into the lower 30s late last night. Other than being splattered occasionally from the condensation dripping off the forward hatch, it was very pleasant to lie in bed and not see my breath before my face. I thoroughly enjoyed going to bed clean last night and not having to wear a hat and socks and other garments that make me look really ridiculous. When we got up, we crowed happily when the thermometer told us it was 34 outside and 69 inside. Yes! Schnitzel is still waiting for her morning walk. I’m not going anywhere until it hits 40. I distracted her by making pancakes, a breakfast I only make at the dock or in a calm anchorage.

We will be shoving off early, early Wednesday morning, having at least a 4 day window to travel. We hope to go straight from here to St. Augustine in one hop, so we need the good weather and some decent wind to make landfall in the daylight. David tells me St. Augustine is 150 miles from here, so that’s about 1 ½ days, hopefully only one overnight. If we get slowed down too much, we can always duck into Jacksonville, which is 130 miles. In any event, we will be spare the tortuous Georgia ICW, which adds 100 miles to the trip. If it weren’t for the chronic low water and shoaling on that stretch of the waterway, I’d love to see the area, but it’s no fun to slowly bump your way along, panicked that you will run aground.

We are both happy with our travel plan and happy to stay in Beaufort at the dock while it’s cold. For one thing, Schnitzel had a bout of respiratory illness when we first left New Bern. Poor thing, she just lay in her bed and wheezed for several days. Fortunately, I had a full course of doggy antibiotics on board and after taking all of them she is her old self, playful and alert, although hoarse as can be. Her usual yodel is now a gruff, raspy bark, making her sound quite ferocious, which I’m sure pleases her. Anyway, we don’t want any more cold aggravated illness and want to make sure she is fully recovered before we venture out. Of course there is always laundry (our dirty clothes are so gross, they mumble in the laundry bin) and we are pretty much out of fresh fruits and veggies so a trip to the grocery store is in order. The marina has a courtesy car, which is a boon. I’m sure we’ll also duck into a hardware store for whatever gadget David has on his mind, and we need to fill the propane tanks. Add to that finishing the teak and enjoying some walks here in Beaufort, and that will fill our days quite nicely, just in time to catch the good weather and head south once more.

Here’s the silly part – when we listen to the cruisers’ net on the SSB in the morning and hear all the boats calling in from Florida and the Bahamas and then the last few boats here in the Carolinas zip on past, we feel such a tug to push off and rush after them. Such lemmings we are! I feel like the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, hopping around looking at the calendar and squeaking, “We’re late! We’re late! Oh my ears and whiskers, we’re late, we’re late, we’re late!” Hold on…no we aren’t, we’re just where we want to be. Such a vortex pulling me to join the exodus, when I don’t even want to. The urge to rush after everyone else must be a survival mechanism not attached to one’s thinking brain. Let’s see, which is better, freezing to death in my smelly clothes in an open cockpit or eating pancakes in my clean jammies, enjoying a second cup of coffee and knowing that I can have a hot shower tonight? Cake or death? (borrowing from Eddie Izzard) Cake, please.

On the hook at Beaufort, SC 12-15-07

[Hilde's log]

And what does one do on the hook in a strange harbor? Depends entirely on the day! Our first full day here, yesterday, was sunny and warm, so we took advantage of the weather to enjoy a walk along the waterfront and through the small downtown to stretch our legs and Schnitzel’s. We peeked into the shops lining the downtown, peered at a few gorgeously preserved Southern mansions, and sat on a bench watching a big traffic jam on the Lady Island Bridge. Then back to the boat. We knew bad weather was coming, so we decided to do some overdue work on deck while the temperatures were mild and the sun was out.

My first chore was to swab the deck with a bucket of water and a brush, dislodging the mud that trickles into the cracks and crannies from the anchor and chain whenever we drop anchor in a muddy spot. So far, I can count on one hand the number of anchorages that have not been muddy, so swabbing is a recurring sport. I even wiped off the deck with a wet rag, and it looked great until Schnitzel came trotting down the side to admire my efforts and left little doggy footprints everywhere.

Swabbing complete, I started in to strip teak. I began stripping teak the first week we were at the dock in New Bern, in October, 2006, and I’m still stripping it. I finished the port handrail, bowsprit, the “eyebrows” (the little strips of wood down the cabin roof over the portholes), and most of the port and starboard toe rails before winter showed up in 2006. In the month or so before we left November 30, I stripped the rest of the toe rails, the stern, and the cockpit combings. As I finish any area of wood, David follows along behind me with teak wash and brightener, and then once the wood is dry we brush on several coats of teak oil and sit back to admire the result. It’s beautiful!! It is my dearest wish never to strip another inch of wood, so let’s hope the teak oil stands up. So far, two weeks into the trip, it has done just fine.

I have no idea how to spell “combings” and neither does Microsoft – sailing words are often spelled completely differently from the way they sound, such as “gunwales” which is pronounced “gunnels”. So pronounce “combing” and you will know what the word is, if not how to spell it.

Yesterday I stripped the starboard handrail, and this morning, before the rain blew in, I stripped the sides of the sliding hatch pocket (the raised bit on the coach roof that the hatch slides into when you push it open). We are going to take a slip at the marina for the three days of forecast cold weather, having had quite enough of freezing our little tushies off at Pipeline Creek. We will have access to fresh water, so David can clean, brighten, and oil the teak I just stripped. When we’re done, we’ll have renewed all the wood but the winch blocks, the Dorade vent blocks, and the companionway.

While I was hacking away at the teak (I started out last year worrying so about the grain of the wood and was I pushing too hard, etc., and have ended up whacking at it and yelling “come OFF!” to the leprous old varnish), David was polishing the stanchions with Collinite, which is, hands down, the best stainless polish we have come across. Raven must feel as though she has been to the spa. The old girl looks like she’s just had a dye job and a manicure!

Chores done, we cleaned up (which is the thing you do after everything – get up, clean up, make tea, clean up, eat, clean up, do a chore, clean up…) and dinghied into shore with Schnitzel for the evening run and then enjoyed a couple of beers and a can of nuts while reading our latest Sue Grafton mystery to each other. Then dinner (clean up) and I am embarrassed to admit I was in bed at 8:30 p.m. Which is how I see all those sunrises.

And thus passes the day on the hook, for those of you who were wondering.