1.11 – Friday

We knew the temps this morning would be rough. It was 28°F when we got up – perfect weather for a sail? When it’s time to go, it’s time to go!

It was freezing cold – literally! Kyle filled up our water tanks this morning and the water that spilled on the dock immediately turned to ice.

By 7.45am we were underway. I didn’t have much dexterity left in my fingers, but I untied the fenders and threw them on the trampolines to dry while Kyle drove. We added as many layers as we could, but finally had to give in and wrap a big blanket around the helmsperson. The outside temp was in the mid-30s, the inside temp was around 40°F and dropping.

It’s all about expectations vs. reality. We knew it was going to be tough, and that it would be a challenge to stay warm. And that’s exactly what happened. Since we were prepared for it, we kept our spirits up. It wasn’t fun, but it wasn’t terrible.

Fortunately the sun kept us pretty warm. I was wearing black shoes, so those soaked up the sun pretty well. Kyle started out wearing Wanchese house slippers and did not fare so well.

What are Wanchese house slippers? I’m so glad you asked.

Way back when I first met Kyle’s family, they joked about Wanchese house slippers. I had no context for any of it, what were these “slippers” and what on earth is a “wanchese?” Over the years, I learned to just smile and nod at the Wanchese house slippers joke. Was it a southern thing? Was it an east coast thing?

Eventually I figured out that the house slippers were rubber boots. I still had no idea what a Wanchese was, it sounded like some type of fancy gouda. I don’t know. Then Ken and Kelly moved right across the highway from Wanchese, a little town on the Outer Banks. Apparently it floods there so often that the locals wear rubber boots around the house!

Anyway, the point is that when we were out shopping yesterday, we each bought ourselves a pair of Wanchese house slippers for those times when we really need to keep our feet dry. They aren’t great at keeping our feet warm.

The only really weird thing that happened today is when I looked out over the water and some some weird flying object. “What the heck is that?” I asked Kyle. He had thought it was a water tower. It didn’t seem to be moving, but it was a weird shape. We got out the binoculars and it was a blimp!

We anchored in the Alligator River. We covered 45.5 miles today, a little over 8 hours (5.5mph).

1.12 – Saturday

Last night Kyle fired up the generator and put a heater in our berth, so after dinner we curled up in the sauna and watched a movie. That was easily the highlight of my day. After being very cold for twelve hours straight, the warm bedroom felt like a tropical oasis. We decided not to run the generator all night, so the boat was chilly in the morning. It’s slightly warmer than yesterday, but there’s no sun today.

Eventually we crawled out of bed and fired up the engines. Kyle pulled up the anchor and I pointed us back to the channel. A few minutes in, the voltage light came on for the starboard engine. I revved the engine to kick in the alternator but the light didn’t turn off. Kyle went down to investigate, but as soon as he disappeared the water temp light came on so I shut the engine down (or it died, I couldn’t hear if it was still running). We snapped an alternator belt, which also runs our fresh water pump. Kyle switched out belts and we were back in business.

We had a big debate this afternoon about where to anchor. It’s supposed to rain all day tomorrow. Rule #1 of staying warm is staying dry, so we discussed taking tomorrow off. If we decide to stay put, then we’ll anchor in Belhaven so we can at least go ashore, but that means anchoring very early, around 1pm. I’d like to press on and go further, because it looks like we won’t be able to make an offshore hop this trip, so that will add a few days to our already tight schedule. The reason we can’t go offshore is because we’re simply not equipped to be traveling in this cold weather. If we’re offshore and someone starts to show signs of hypothermia, we don’t have very many options.

This point was especially driven home this afternoon, when we were listening in on Coast Guard calls for help. A johnboat had gotten swamped and was stranded. The CG was looking for anyone in the area who could assist. We looked at the location of the johnboat and it would have taken us until about midnight to get to him, so we were unable to help.

We decided to press on despite the rain. Kyle said “if we’re going to be spending the day just sitting inside the boat being cold, I’d rather at least be moving.” Sound logic.

We anchored in Campbell Creek, barely off the ICW. 52 miles today, almost 9 hours (5.4 mph).

1.13 – Sunday

We lucked out and it wasn’t raining when we woke up. After the engines get warmed up, we can run the coffee pot, which takes up all the power the alternators are cranking out. We have a pourover coffee maker that we should probably be using, but we haven’t gotten rid of our power-hungry coffee maker yet.

It was supposed to be mid-50s and rainy, and we’re going through the Neuse River today. The Neuse is rough because it’s a very large body of water, but relatively shallow, which allows steep chop to build up. I wasn’t sure I’d gotten my sea-legs back, so I took some Bonine just in case – don’t want to risk seasickness on top of everything else. It does feel warmer today, but the humidity is at 90%, which means when you get cold you get REALLY cold.

It sprinkled here and there, and the water was pretty flat. In fact, nothing exciting happened at all until I sat down to write this up. Kyle came in to grab a poncho and said “I think the rain is about to start.” He sat back down at the helm and suddenly there were all kinds of loud noises. The genoa had backwinded, and the genoa sheets were slapping the salon roof, which sounds very loud when you’re right underneath them. The wind had clocked around 180° so he furled the genoa as it started to really pour.

We anchored in Morehead City. 51 miles today, almost 9 hours of travel time (5.8 mph)

1.14 – Monday

I expected that our worst day would be the first day, or maybe the rainy day on the Neuse River. The worst day was today. When we started out, it was 37°F, with 10 kt winds, and humidity at 90%. If you’ve never experienced cold, humid weather, let me explain how it feels. The moisture in the air creates tiny frozen crystals that penetrate your outerwear, your sweatshirt, your base layers and your skin. They get down into your blood stream and keep going straight to your bones until you have been so thoroughly chilled that it takes hours to get warm again.

Today the helm blanket wasn’t enough. I wrapped up in the blanket for warmth, then a tarp to block the wind. I was still cold. Every time I unwrapped my arm to make minor adjustments to the autopilot I got unbearably cold, hand-steering was out of the question. Driving shifts lasted no more than 45 minutes, that was all either of us could tolerate. I asked Kyle if he was doing okay, if he was warm enough, and today is the first day he said “No.”

The sun was supposed to come out and warm u s up but it never showed. It wasn’t even 10am before I started looking for an exit plan. We docked in Swansboro around noon, hooked up to shore power and turned on both heaters. I would have paid whatever they wanted for shore power and heat. I told Kyle I was going to divorce him to marry this heater, as we both stood in front of our respective heaters trying to regain feeling in our toes.

We’re at the town dock, so there are no worries about the anchor dragging tonight. A warm boat and a good night’s sleep are just the mental break we need. It was a short day, 24 miles in 4.5 hours (5.3mph).