Morehead City, NC proved to an interesting stop for a variety of reasons including the tides in the area. One thing I didn’t discuss in the previous post is how strange, at least to us, the tides behave here. First off, ocean tidal dynamics are odd. As sailors, we learn to adapt to a constantly changing environment. After all, the medium upon which we base our existence is, literally, fluid and never static. We have sailed in oceans where the tidal rise and fall can be as much as 10 feet, with high and low tides occurring every 24 hours. In the Florida Keys, the tidal change was rarely more than three feet in that same time span. And in the Florida Panhandle and along the upper Gulf coast, the there is only one high and one low tide every 24 hour cycle.
In the vast majority of locations on Earth, the tides are governed by the pull of gravity from the moon. Published tidal tables are based on the lunar cycle, and are predictions of when the high and low tides will occur for any given area, along with what the expected rise and fall of the water levels should be. They are surprisingly accurate in both areas, almost without exception. However, the predictions can be skewed a bit, as in a few places, such as the large sounds of North Carolina, the effects of wind direction and velocity will overpower the lunar influences at play. Along North Carolina’s outer banks, the lunar influence of the tides is minimal – a few scant inches in most places. Here, the rises and falls of water levels are more influenced by weather. Prolonged periods of strong winds can, literally, shove the water in the sounds and rivers around, causing rises or falls of water that can be measured in feet.
Overview of the Morehead City Waterfront; Sugarloaf Island os to the Left - Photo Courtesy State of North Carolina
Part of our trip planning is being keenly aware of what is happening with the tide at the times of expected arrivals or departures at an inlet, marina, anchorage, etc. The expression ‘go with the flow’ came from the days of engineless sailing ships awaiting an outgoing tide before departing from a port. And so it was with our departure from the Morehead City Transient Docks for the short run to Cape Lookout National Seashore. The high tide was predicted to be at approximately 11:30 in the morning. The half-hour before and after the time of the predicted high or low tide is known as ‘slack water,’ a window of time in which the current flow is negligible. These were ideal conditions for making the run to the Cape, as we would be ‘going with the flow,’ since when the tide turned the outgoing tide would give us a boost in speed back into the ocean.
Of course, it didn’t go that way.
On the Saturday morning of Labor Day Weekend, we spent our time making final preparations. We had already provisioned earlier in the week, and had a leisurely morning, starting with a traditional southern breakfast at Grumpy’s. Back at the boat, we topped up the fresh water tanks, took out the trash, checked engine fluid and belt/hose, etc. We still had a couple of hours before the predicted high tide, so we took a short stroll back into town with our dock neighbor Todd and his pup, Bruce. We had enjoyed our time in Morehead City. The working vibe of the town and laid back atmosphere of the waterfront, with the charter boat fishing fleet, and fantastic restaurants – The Ruddy Duck Tavern and Full Circle Café are not to be missed – made our time and the delays we experienced here worthwhile.
So you can imagine my surprise that when we returned to the dock about 45 minutes or so before high tide, we saw that the tide was still incoming as strongly as it had been all morning. This was quite puzzling, as according to the predicted time of high tide, the flow should have slowed significantly. We double checked the tables to see if we had not read them correctly, but they were as we remembered. Another possibility we considered was that the rate of the flooding tide was being influenced by a divide. A divide is a point on the map where, on incoming or outgoing tide, the flow can switch directions due to the influence of land. Directly across from the Morehead City Transient Docks lay Sugarloaf Island. We soon decided that the island was influencing the flow of the tide and were experiencing a ‘dividing’ effect. Regardless, with the three or so knot flow of water pressing JO BETH hard against the dock, it was clear we weren’t going anywhere for a while. By 2:30 or so in the afternoon, the tidal flow had eased sufficiently that, with Todd’s help handling lines, we were able to slip off the dock and get underway. In a couple of hours, we were far enough out into Beaufort Inlet channel to exit the channel and turn due east, heading straight for Cape Lookout Bight approximately six miles distant.
Cape Lookout Sunset
Winds were east-southeast, light, and directly in front of us, so we motored the 6 miles in just over an hour. Soon, we were well into the bight, hunting for a spot to anchor amongst the many of dozens of boats already there. It was the Labor Day holiday weekend, so this wasn’t unexpected. Most of the bight is deep, with shallow areas fringing the shores and peppering the middle portions. There are marked navigation channels, as the Coast Guard once maintained a life-saving station here; there’s still a Coast Guard mooring buoy in the bight, still used by local Coast Guard vessels. An hour before a most glorious sunset, we were anchored in 10 feet of water on the southeastern side of the sand dunes. We could hear the low, dull roar of the surf crashing just on the other side.
Nautical Chart Showing Cape Lookout Bight, North Carolina
Sunday morning, a good number of boats began to leave, and by Sunday afternoon, probably more than half had departed. We took the dinghy in and wandered the beach area for a few hours, before returning to the boat for a lazy afternoon of reading and listening to the Braves baseball game. On Labor Day morning, there was another mass exodus from the anchorage, and, as the crowd thinned down to mostly day trippers, we took the dinghy to shore near the lighthouse. The lighthouse entered service in 1859 and became fully automated in 1950. Unfortunately, the lighthouse itself is closed to visitors due some significant structural issues. It’s still in service, alerting mariners to the presence of Cape Lookout shoals which extend some 16 miles into the sea from the Cape. Early sailors referred to Cape Lookout as ‘the horrible headland,’ and it was more feared than the infamous Cape Hatteras.
There is something of a myth surrounding the paint scheme of alternating black and white diamonds which make up the daymarks on the lighthouse. The story goes the paint crews confused the paint scheme with that assigned to the lighthouse built at Cape Hatteras, which warns sailors away from Diamond Shoals; thus, the Cape Hatteras lighthouse should be painted with the diamond pattern instead of its black and white spiral. While a good story, the daymark patterns were randomly assigned, and there is no evidence to suggest the lighthouse was painted incorrectly.
Cape Lookout Lighthouse
Light Keeper’s Cottage, Cape Lookout, North Carolina
We spent another three days at Cape Lookout, enjoying the quiet following the holiday. We didn’t explore much further. There were several islands on the northern side of the bight we had hoped to visit, but the winds picked up just enough to guarantee a long and sloppy ride in the dinghy.
On Wednesday morning, we weighed anchor and headed back to Beaufort Inlet, this time bound for the town of Beaufort, NC. By noon, we were secured alongside the Beaufort Town Docks and had loads of laundry in the local laundromat washers. Onboard showers followed and then it was a dinner of a delicious brick oven pizza at the Black Sheep, right on the waterfront. We usually shower in the marina facilities, if available, but the showers at the Beaufort docks are cramped and not air conditioned. The next day, we took the marina loaner car and made a grocery run to Harris-Teeter, with a stop at West Marine for boat spares and parts. Oddly enough, we had to go back to Morehead City for our shopping!
One of the Many Fascinating Exhibits at the North Carolina Maritime Museum, Beaufort, North Carolina
Scrimshaw Exhibit, Dated to Late 1700’s, North Carolina Maritime Museum
The stop in Beaufort was primarily to wait out incoming bad weather, but also to visit the North Carolina Maritime Museum and The Harvey W. Smith Watercraft Center, a working boat building shop that trains students to use traditional methods and materials. We spent a rainy Thursday at each, and while I can say we enjoyed both immensely, the highlight for both of us was the extensive nautical library at the Maritime Museum. Beaufort also presented us with more delicious spots to eat. Beyond the Black Sheep’s amazing pizza, we enjoyed a spectacular dinner at The Beaufort Grocery Company restaurant. That said, Lisa and I were somewhat disappointed in the town. It certainly wasn’t that we had a negative experience there, but for the cruising sailor, we felt it came up a bit short. For instance, we needed to pick up some replacement parts and do a grocery run. There isn’t a marine chandler in Beaufort, and the small hardware store there had little in the way of actual marine-grade hardware and parts. There is one grocery store, but it is quite basic. Even the marina staff at the Beaufort Town Docks told us that most everyone in Beaufort goes to Morehead City for routine shopping.
The Impressive Nautical Library at the North Carolina Maritime Museum, Beaufort, North Carolina
A note also about the anchorage at both Morehead City and Beaufort: both are skinny and narrow, and the bottoms quite fouled with abandoned anchors, moorings, etc. Morehead City will be our preferred stop when sailing here in the future.
Historic and Beautiful Homes Abound in Beaufort
The rain cleared and Friday dawned bright and sunny. We spent a leisurely morning readying JO BETH for the short 25 mile run to Oriental, North Carolina, situated on the banks of the wide Neuse River. As the trip would only take four or five hours, and would all be made under motor power, we weren’t in a hurry. Around noon we were underway from the Beaufort Town Docks and soon entered the waters of the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway. There were a huge number of boats, mostly powerboats, just milling around; some were anchored, but most seemed to be just hanging out. We began picking our way through the crowd, when we noticed a Coast Guard patrol boat racing our way, blue lights flashing. They came alongside and told us the water way was closed for power boat speed racing, and that it would be closed for approximately another hour.
JO BETH Ready For the Short Run to Oriental, North Carolina
Why hadn’t we heard about this…and why hadn’t they hailed us on the radio? I checked the radio and saw it was set to channel 9, the frequency used by the marina. We had been communicating with the marina over channel 9 during our departure from the dock and hadn’t switched back to channel 16, the general hailing frequency. If the Coast Guard had called us on the radio, we wouldn’t have heard them. I switched the radio to channel 16 and we began milling about with the rest of the boats. Truthfully, it was quite annoying, and not just to us. Inside of the hour wait, the impatient calls on the radio began: “how many more laps does this race have?” and so on. After about 45 minutes, we noticed there didn’t seem to be any racing happening at all. Once again the Coast Guard approached us.
“You’re northbound on the waterway, correct?”
“Yes,” I answered, “going to Oriental.”
“The waterway’s opened for a half-hour. Start making way.”
I thought for a moment. We had timed our departure to catch the last of the incoming tide to push us north. The closure of the waterway caused us to miss that window, and now we were running against the full outgoing tide. We had about a mile to go before we would be clear of the race course, and with the tide against us, we’d be lucky to make three and a half knots, even at near max power. It would be tight.
“With the tide against us, we can only make about three, three and a half knots. Half hour’s going to be close,” I told them.
“Get underway, sir,” the helmsman said. “Have a safe run.”
And with that, they peeled away.
When we had about a quarter mile to go, a sleek powerboat pulled alongside.
“Are you guys headed out under the bridge? Going north?”
“Yes,” we answered.
“Thanks,” they replied and veered away.
Almost immediately, we heard a call on the radio.
“That slow sailboat is almost clear.”
Lisa and I both broke into laughter. As soon as we cleared the bridge marking the racecourse, the all clear was given and the race resumed. But now, we had a potential problem. The delay brought about by the speedboat race was putting the squeeze on our expected arrival at Oriental Harbor. There were very few places we could anchor between Beaufort and Oriental, and traveling the waterway at night on a small sailboat can be sketchy at best. We’ve done it, more times than we care to remember. There are all manner of unmarked and unlit obstacles to avoid; fish traps, crab pot markers, duck hunting blinds, logs, etc. Once clear of the Beaufort area, the influence of the tide lessened, and soon we were moving along at five knots. Onward we pushed.
Anchored in Oriental, North Carolina
About a half hour before sunset, we entered the waters of the wide Neuse River, the lights of Oriental winking at us some five miles distant on the northern banks. As we approached the outer harbor, we saw one other sailboat anchored and soon found our spot and dropped the anchor just as the sun dropped below the horizon. After drinks in the cockpit and a quick dinner, we were soon fast asleep.
Saturday morning, we readied the dinghy and powered into the inner harbor. Many towns along the Intracoastal Waterway provide dinghy landing facilities along with free docks, which are usually limited to 24 or 48 hour stays, for visiting boats. We moved at idle speed through dozens of docked shrimp and commercial fishing boats and tied up at the dinghy dock. We made a beeline for The Bean, a very sailor friendly coffee shop with stellar free and secured WiFi. We lunched at M&M’s Café and walked through a true general store, The Oriental Provision Company. On Sunday, Lisa went to church at St. Thomas Episcopal Church, where she received a warm welcome, particularly from Cowboy, the church service dog! Later that afternoon, we saw two boats approaching the outer harbor anchorage area, and soon realized one was Todd, who we met at the Morehead City Transient docks. The other boat belonged to friends of Todd. We spent a brief time chatting, after which they headed into town for dinner, while we readied ourselves for a morning departure.
JO BETH, Anchored in Oriental’s Outer Harbor
As it is getting later in the season, Lisa and I decided to go ahead and go to Washington, NC, where Pacific Seacraft is headquartered to begin our refrigerator insulation rehab and a couple of other things. We didn’t want to push, and after an early departure, we anchored just outside of the mouth of the Pamlico River early the same afternoon. Lisa caught up on some work, while I took care of a few projects, did some photo edits, and read. We had a huge stir fry dinner to use the last of our fresh veggies before they went bad. We put on the Braves baseball game, and I was soon fast asleep.
The next morning dawned quiet and still, without a breath of wind. We upped anchor and powered away, soon entering the wide and deep Pamlico river where we pointed our bow west. The river is beautiful and wide, with very little current. After about three hours, we passed the small village of Bath, founded in 1705. Two hours later, we glided through the opened railway swing bridge at Washington, North Carolina and within a half hour more, were secured alongside the friendly waterfront municipal marina docks. And from here our story takes quite the turn, or doesn’t, as circumstances arise.
I’ll tell you all about it in the next post.