Two more days in the ICW and we arrive home! Also: things start breaking aboard the boat. Add them to the list…

We were hoping to make as many miles as possible today, so we wanted to pull anchor just before sunrise and get moving. Hobbes had other plans.

We hadn’t checked the oil in a couple days so Kyle opened the hatch to the port engine while I checked the starboard. I was still half asleep and clumsy, so instead of putting the dipstick back I dropped it under the engine. I also noticed a significant amount of water in the engine locker I grabbed a headlamp to illuminate the dark locker and almost fell down the stairs as I headed back into the hull.

I was clearly useless until I got some coffee in me (and right now we can’t run the coffeepot unless we have both engines running, it takes a too much power), Kyle emptied about 5 gallons of water out of the locker – probably leaking from the exhaust but we’ll have to monitor that (update: it’s the water pump). He also noticed the alternator belt was wearing out, the engine was covered in belt dust, so he installed a new one.

Engines finally running, I took the helm while Kyle went to pull the anchor. After Kyle pulled up enough chain to get the bridle off, he pushed the windlass button to pull up the rest of the chain and…nothing happened. The electric windlass works for dropping anchor, but not raising it, so the motor is fine. Kyle said he could hear the switch click so it might be an internal relay. We’ll have to take it apart to find out. Now we know how to manually work the windlass…

Almost an hour after we intended to be underway, we started making our way out of the anchorage, coffeepot on and doing its thing.

We re-entered the Neuse River to a strong headwind and significant chop. The Neuse is very wide, but shallow, which allows a steep swell to build up. It is the only place I’ve ever gotten seasick before, making it easily my least favorite body of water in the world. We started bouncing uncomfortably. We just had to get out far enough, then we could turn a little bit and put out a sail. At under 4 knots it felt like forever until we got far enough out, but after we put out a sail we were closer to 7 knots. Physically, 4kt and 7kt are barely different, but psychologically – in that chop! – they are night and day difference.

We eventually made a right turn which put the swell behind us, making the ride much more comfortable as we surfed down the waves. You can see the tea-colored water of the Neuse is turning our transoms orange from the tanins.

As soon as we entered a cut, Kyle took the helm and I went inside to get some work done. He said something about how everyone in the channel seemed to be sailing, and I poked my head out for just long enough to catch us meeting three sailboats with full sails up. This is a pretty narrow cut, but as we were passing a day marker to starboard, two of the sailboats were side-by-side off our port. Again, I know we’re overly cautious, but wouldn’t the prudent sailor wait until oncoming traffic has gone by before attempting to pass another sailboat in a narrow channel?

For the ICW portion, we’ve been in a routine of one shift each in the morning and one shift in the afternoon, and in the morning the off-shift person could go in the salon and work for a bit. In the afternoons it’s been too hot to be inside so the off-shift person could hang out and read. Today was full of big rivers (Neuse, Pamlico, Pungo) and steep, choppy water. I tried to get some work done on my laptop but when I concentrated too hard I’d start feeling queasy again. I still got plenty done editing photos and blogposts. I might even be able to fully catch up when we get to the marina.

We anchored around 3.30pm in the Pungo River at the entrance to a four-hour canal, since we only had three hours of daylight left. Unfortunately this puts us in rough position for tomorrow, because we have about 12 hours of travel time left (63 miles). All because we got sidetracked with boat projects instead of leaving early today. We’ll get up before dawn tomorrow and do our best, but if we face adverse currents we might not make it to the marina before dark.

Since we anchored so early, I took a nap this afternoon, then we both took books out to the bow and enjoyed the fantastic weather. Oh, and the windlass worked in both directions when we anchored tonight.

We’ve lived on this boat for a year, but this is the first week we’ve been treating it like a boat instead of a floating house. It’s a good feeling. It’s a great boat. I feel so fortunate that we managed to buy this catamaran despite all the obstacles, she’s definitely better than anything I dreamed we’d find in our price range.

Today was 8 hours of travel covering 46 miles (5.7 mph). We made good time today, with favorable currents plus we rolled out the genoa several times while in the rivers. The furling system makes it so dang easy, just roll out the sail and boom! you gain a knot or two of speed. If we’d made it through the canal today it would have been a 12 hour day covering 70 miles.

We got up at 6am, hoping to get started as soon as the first hint of daylight appeared. Of course the windlass didn’t work again, but Kyle raised the anchor and we headed into the canal. We made great time through the 20 nautical mile channel, making it through in 3.5 hours.

Even in a cloudless sky the sunrise is still gorgeous.

Kyle drove the first half the canal, he met one boat. As soon as I took over there was more traffic, which was no big deal except for one very wide barge. It passed by without incident but initially it looked like it spanned the entire width of the channel! At almost 23 feet wide, Hobbes doesn’t exactly have a supermodel figure either.

The second leg of our day was the Alligator River. At first we were barely making progress against a headwind, and the chartplotter showed an arrival time of 7.30pm, way too late. We turned and unfurled the genoa and then we were cruising at almost 6 knots, which bumped our arrival time up to 5.30pm! The only tenuous spot of the river was the bridge, which is supposed to open on demand but the bridge tender didn’t open it, so Kyle tried to hold our position in the wind for about 15 minutes without knowing when the bridge might open.

The third leg of our day was the Albemarle sound, where we cut through a danger zone (according to the chart the danger was in anchoring, as there might be unexploded ordinance) in order to give ourselves the best chance of arriving in daylight. The biggest danger we found there were a hundred crab pots, we were both vigilantly watching, since they could snag our props and get tangled. We only had one close call (we were heading into the sun so it was very hard to see) and soon we were on the infinite home stretch as we turned off the Albemarle and into the small, never-ending channel leading to our new home.

Stress levels were high as we entered the marina. Thankfully there was no wind or current, just shallow depths and barely enough space to squeak both of our bows through without making contact with another boat. I was running around putting out fenders, unless Kyle directed me to push us away from any boat we came too close to. Then Ken, Kyle’s dad, directed us to turn around and back into the slip. Kyle did a marvelous job navigating the tight space, but no amount of fancy driving is going to get us into the slip. We’re way too wide.

We’re now parked slightly outside of the slip, as soon as we adjusted all the lines and fenders we cracked open some celebratory beers. Not only did we make it all the way to the marina today, we also made it into the marina with no mishaps, and our journey – for now – is done! 63 miles today, 11 hours (5.7 mph). It took us five days by boat, it takes 8 hours by car.

As soon as we got settled, we joined Ken and Kelly and started chatting about the next big thing – Hurricane Michael seems to have organized very quickly in the Gulf and is headed our way. It should fizzle out by the time it gets to us, but we need to get back to Charleston right away so Kyle can fly out for a wedding. If his flight gets canceled we’re going to be 0 for 2, flights versus hurricanes.

We’ve been talking about getting pizza for days now, but when Kyle asked where the best place in town to get pizza was, we found out just how tiny and remote this town is. THERE IS NO PIZZA PLACE.

Oh, also at this point I should mention that Ken and Kelly live on a 36’ Albin here. They also offer boat repair services as Yacht Doc, Inc.

We’re planning on staying here for a couple months and using their shop to do some repairs and upgrades before we take off cruising.