Washington, NC is a small town situated on the banks of the Pamlico River in North Carolina’s Inner Banks. Founded in 1776 and named for George Washington, it is often known as “Original Washington,” or “Little Washington.” It is a resilient place, having suffered through the War between the States when it was occupied by Union soldiers and then burned as they retreated, to hurricanes, floods, epidemics of disease, and other natural disasters. Now, it is a thriving and wonderfully friendly community, drawing on its history and role in coastal Carolina culture.
Washington, North carolina’s Lovely Waterfront Walk
It is also the home of Pacific Seacraft, JO BETH’s builder. The company was founded 1975 and operated in California until 2007, when it was purchased and relocated to Washington, NC by Steve Brodie, a marine archeologist. Pacific Seacraft continues to produce ocean voyaging yachts and build custom designs, as well as refit older boats. We stopped here specifically for them to ‘rehab’ JO BETH’s aging icebox insulation, as well as inspect and evaluate a couple of other things on which we wanted the builder’s opinion.
We had been to Washington by car a handful of times during JO BETH’s refit to pick up materials and parts unique to the boat. This trip however, was our first time visiting by boat. After a trip under power west on the Pamlico, we arrived at the town waterfront docks and were greeted by city dockmaster, Rick. Rick is a congenial and knowledgeable dockmaster and sailor, and knows the waters of North Carolina’s inner and outer banks like the back of his hand. After assisting us with lines and getting JO BETH secured, he gave us the standard marina information packet and made certain we knew where the best restaurants, ice cream shops, etc., were located. We placed a call to Steve at Pacific Seacraft and let him know we had arrived and were secured. We also met Kate, the owner of GREEN DOLPHIN, a Pacific Seacraft 31 also docked at the waterfront, just finishing a refit.
In the late afternoon, Steve dropped by the boat to say hello and to take a quick look over the list of tasks. Steve, Lisa, and I were able to quickly determine which items needed to be addressed, and which were good as they were, with no repairs or actions needed. We developed a plan to address the icebox insulation and to fix an issue with an unsupported section of the cabin sole, or floor. Steve promised Raul, the operations manager and Alex, a carpenter would be aboard the following morning to get things underway. Lisa and I grabbed showers and headed to the newest restaurant in town, at least for us, The Mulberry House and Brewery. The Mulberry has now become a favorite haunt of mine!
JO BETH’s Main Saloon with the Stove/Oven Removed for the Icebox Insulation Repair
As expected Raul and Alex arrived the following morning. Raul examined the cabin sole hatch which covers the fuel tank, and the sagging section of the sole just forward of the hatch opening. JO BETH’s original owner had made some modifications to the interior, resulting in a section of the sole lacking sufficient support for the weight of additional structures. We developed a method of repair, and Raul returned to the factory with the hatch in hand. Alex and I both began to tackle the icebox insulation repair. In order to do this, it was necessary to remove some of the drawers and bins around the icebox, as well as the stove and oven. Fortunately, we didn’t have to empty or shut down the refrigerator/freezer. Once the area was cleared, Alex began to methodically sound the sides of the top sections of the icebox for voids; where there is a void, the sound will be dull ‘thud’ when tapped, indicated the insulation material in that area is no longer viable. Where the insulation is still in place, the sound when tapped will be ‘solid’, like tapping a table top. The sounding process takes some time, and located a surprising number of voids, especially along the forward side of the icebox. Alex marked the areas with a pencil and planned to begin injected expanding foam into the void areas the next morning. With the stove out of the way, Lisa and I spent the remainder of that afternoon degreasing the areas of the cabin we couldn’t access along the sides and back of the oven. The decades of gunk cleaned up surprisingly well. We also had a ‘kickplate’ fitted beneath the oven removed and modified with a hinge, so the space could be used for storage and more easily cleaned.
The Galley With the Stove Removed; the Refer/Freezer (Icebox) is to the Left
Raul returned that same afternoon and fitted the repaired cabin sole hatch which solved the problem of the sagging section of the cabin sole, but inadvertently created another minor issue…more on that in a bit.
Alex arrived in the morning, expanding foam in hand. He carefully drilled the areas he had marked the previous day, taking great care to not puncture the liner of the icebox. Once the drilled areas were open and cleaned, he began the slow and methodical process of introducing the foam. This the one job I didn’t want to tackle. The builders at Pacific Seacraft have developed and refined the method of repair. Expanding foam can do serious damage if not handled properly. Working carefully to be sure the foam was distributing as evenly as possible, we gave it some time to cure and then resounded the areas, getting solid returns all around. We also had them examine the icebox lid, which we felt was not original to the boat. It has never fit well, and we believe it is how a good bit of the cold air escapes. We’ll be replacing the gasket with a different type over the holidays while in Hilton Head Island, SC. In the meantime, the insulation rehab appears to be working as the temperature of the refrigerator and freezer has stabilized significantly. More importantly, we don’t seem to be freezing produce in the refrigerator section!
We had planned to be in Washington for four days. Pacific Seacraft finished our project on Thursday afternoon, so after a quick shower, Lisa and I went into to town for dinner at one of our favorite spots, The Bank. It’s in the original bank building for the town, which survived the burning of the city and the end of the Civil War, as well as a later large fire in approximately 1900. I was spending a portion of my morning at The Mulberry, soaking up its free WiFi, as the marina WiFi (the merchants association in the historic district provides WiFi for the area) was hardly ever working and when it did, it was beyond inadequate.
Overview of Washington Harbor
Friday, I walked into town to get a haircut, and we spent the rest of time getting ready for the short trip to the town of Belhaven, approximately 25 mile to the east-northeast on the Pungo River, just off of the Intracoastal Waterway. It would be a motor trip, and from Belhaven, we were planning to cross Pamlico Sound to the island community of Ocracoke. From Ocracoke, we were considering a ferry trip to Hatteras Island, and then return to JO BETH and begin working our way slowly south again. We would leave Washington on Sunday morning.
That was the plan.
Sunday morning dawned clear, with a heavy dew, like rain, covering everything. I’m always awake before Lisa, and I quietly stepped off of JO BETH and onto the docks for the morning stroll to the heads, (whenever we’re in a marina, we always use the shore toilet facilities), followed by a short walk along the docks. The air was still and the humidity high, the temperature comfortable, a typical coastal Carolina morning in September. I walked along the waterfront for a bit, then turned and returned to the boat. Back at the boat, I stepped aboard, leading with my right foot. My flip flop hit squarely on a sail track installed on the deck and began to slide. With my right foot sliding on the deck, and my left foot hovering between the dock and the deck, I lunged forward.
The sailor’s instinct is not to go overboard, ever! I grabbed the boarding gate with my left hand and clawed for a grip on the canvas dodger with my right. My right hand simply slid along the wet fabric, and with my left hand firmly gripping the stainless railing of the boarding gate, I continued to move forward while my left shoulder and arm remained stationary. In an instant, I stopped. About the time I realized I wasn’t going overboard, I felt the searing pain of strained or sprained muscles and tendons in my upper back and left shoulder. I noticed my left hand and arm largely felt numb.
I released my grip on the rail and eased into the cockpit, where I sat on the wet cushion. My shoulder was simultaneously burning and knotting up. My only thought was, “well shit…”
However, relief soon washed over me, as I realized my lower back was okay, as were my knees. Or, at least they seemed to be. I was also thankful I hadn’t gone into the water, between the dock and the boat. Had that happened, and I had been knocked unconscious, I would have likely drowned.
I stood and slowly began to try and move my left arm, but it wasn’t happening. The tingling and numbness was now shifting to more of a feeling of burning. I eased down the companionway ladder and sat in the cabin, thinking. I got up to take some Ibuprofen and in the process, woke Lisa.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Just a little after seven.”
“What time do you want to leave?” came the next question.
I was quiet for a moment, but soon managed an extended “ummmm…”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, sitting up.
I proceeded to describe the past few minutes. By now, I could feel a solid knot had formed, deep under my left shoulder blade. My left arm was alternately tingly and then burning. My thumb and fingers felt on fire.
“Do you want to go to a doctor?” she asked.
“No, I think it’s just strained. I’ll start icing it and see if I can get an appointment with a massage therapist. There seem to be a few here.”
“We have the heating pad too,” Lisa reminded me, then she said, “I guess we’re not leaving today.”
“No, not today, maybe in a couple of days.”
She looked down at the cabin sole. “Well shit,” she muttered.
By Monday morning, the shoulder and upper back weren’t much better, and quite possibly a bit worse though I was hard pressed to tell, it just hurt. I called around to two or three of the massage therapists within walking distance, but didn’t get a single call back until late that afternoon. I told her what happened, to which she replied she was booked solid, but would make a spot for me at 6pm on Wednesday. I had also spoken with Steve, the owner of Pacific Seacraft, who referred me to his orthopedist. By now, it was late Monday afternoon and the kind lady at the orthopedist office said she would pass my message along to their appointment office, but not to expect a call back that day. In the interim, I was alternately icing and heating my shoulder area and gobbling down Ibuprofen like Halloween candy.
The next morning, after a restless and mostly sleepless night, I was at my spot in the Mulberry. At 8:30, my phone rang. It was the orthopedist’s office.
“Good morning, Mr. Ballard? This is Cindy from Vidant Orthopedics. You wanted to make an appointment about your shoulder?”
“Yes, good morning and thanks for calling back. I do need to make an appointment about straining my left shoulder and upper back area, thank you.”
“Alright, can you be here in 15 minutes?”
I was stunned. After a moment, I answered.
“Ummm, no ma’am, I can’t. I don’t have a car, I’m here on my boat. I’ll have to walk or take a taxi. And I’m not certain where your office is.”
She was quiet for moment. “We’re located across from the hospital. Can you be here by 10?”
I looked at the time again. I would make it happen.
“Yes, I’ll be there by 10.”
I packed up my laptop and made for the boat, about a three minute walk. I rushed down and told Lisa I had an appointment with an orthopedist. I went to the dock office to get a recommendation for a taxi company. The dockmaster wrote down two, saying the first one was the preferred option. I called the number and a cheerful man told me he had a cab in the area that would be there in a few minutes. “It’s a white mini-van, and I’m not sure he’s put the signs on it.” I didn’t think much of it, as many small ports we’d visited had unmarked cabs. I thanked him and told him I would wait outside in front of the dock office.
While in Washington, the ‘Smoke on the Water,’ a BBQ competition went on - this guy was one of many entertainers…
In less than 5 minutes, a white unmarked mini-van pulled alongside, the driver making eye contact and giving me a thumbs-up. I walked up to the passenger door and opened it. While I was waiting, I had realized I left my face mask on the boat, and I would need it at the doctor’s office. The man in the van looked at me curiously.
“I need to go get my mask off the boat, to have at the doctor’s office. Can you wait for a couple of minutes?”
He blinked at me. “Wait?” he asked, puzzled. “I dunno what you talkin’ ‘bout.”
It then dawned on me this was just some guy, coming to the waterfront. Not my taxi.
“Oh,” I said, “you’re not my taxi?”
He roared in laughter, “no boss, I ain’t no taxi! I’m meetin’ my sister for our morning walk, but if you need a ride, I’ll take you anywhere you need to go after we’re done a walkin’. ‘Specially to a doctor if you got to be goin’ there.”
He offered his hand, which I readily took.
“Thanks, man” I stammered, “I’m really sorry. I thought you were the taxi. Your car matches what I’m expecting.”
Laughing, he said, “It’s alright, alright.”
I sheepishly backed onto the sidewalk again as he got out and headed for the walkway, glancing back at me and shaking his head. In a few minutes, my actual taxi, marked and everything, though not a white minivan but an aged Buick Le Sabre, pulled up. Soon, I was at the doctor’s office in the waiting room…waiting.
I saw one of the practice PA’s who happened to be a sailor herself. After X-Rays and tests for mobility and strength, she determined I had experienced a severe strain of the rotator cuff and the adjoining soft tissues. She also suggested the brachial nerve was likely being choked off by the inflammation and swelling, giving me the feelings of numbness and tingling in my arm and hand. She prescribed an aggressive anti-inflammatory and told me to greatly restrict my activity, including sailing. And as she was a sailor, there was no bluffing to be done on my part.
“Ten days to two weeks. At least. We’ll make a follow-up appointment for you, two weeks from today. You should feel the effects of the medicine pretty quickly though.” We had discussed prescribing pain medication, but decided not to. First, I don’t like taking them. Second, I’ve done enough stupid stuff in my life and suffered through enough sprains, strains, etc., to know if inflammation goes away, so does pain. At least most of the time.
I was also able to get the massage done earlier than expected. It did seem to bring some relief, but the worst was yet to come.
Lisa went by taxi that same afternoon to get the prescription at the local Walgreen’s. Soon, the first dose was taken, and we settled in. We advised the dockmaster’s office of what had happened, and of course, they understood. And I did feel the effects of the anti-inflammatory drugs fast, but with an unexpected result.
One thing you will most certainly encounter in Washington, are these little guys - they’re everywhere…
The anti-inflammatory drugs quickly worked their magic, the inflammation was reduced. As predicted by the doctor, the pressure on the brachial nerve was eased, allowing it to begin firing signals again…and fire it did. By 10am on Thursday, the pain was intense over my left arm. It felt as if it was simultaneously on badly sunburned and being hit with electrical shocks. I called the orthopedist’s office and left a message for the PA and/or her nurse describing what was happening. By middle afternoon it was worse, and I couldn’t sit still. Lisa was asking for me to call the doctor’s office again, and in my addled state, I refused, mumbling, “she’s not there, what are they going to do but take another message?”
By early evening, I felt as if I was going to pass out. Poor Lisa couldn’t take any more of my yelling and slamming my fists into the boat and she took a long walk. My left arm now felt as if it were being amputated with a cutting torch, while my hand was being pounded into a bed of nails by giant wielding a sledge hammer. Lisa even checked with our friend Kate, asking if she had any pain medications. She didn’t, but offered the use of her car to take me to the ER. Lisa asked if I would go. I said yes.
It was now 10pm and I spent the next six hours at the ER. I don’t recall much about the experience, except I do remember they gave me a shot of pain meds in the waiting room. “Ibuprofen on steroids,” is how the nurse described it. I don’t recall it being effective. Mostly, that night, which was also my birthday, was a blur.
Because of COVID restrictions, Lisa could not wait in the waiting room with me, but could accompany me back to the exam room when my turn came. But after waiting several hours, she headed back to the boat with my promise I would call her when I was called back. As it turned out, the ER called her when I was sent to the exam room, so she texted me to see what was happening. The ER doctor diagnosed a severely stretched brachial nerve in addition to the general shoulder and upper back strain, and prescribed a pain medication which specifically targets nerve induced pain. They also applied a Lidocaine patch on my upper arm, and prescribed a muscle relaxer and general pain reliever. Last came a dose of Hydrocodone for sleep.
I texted Lisa and let her know I was ready to be picked up. We made it back to the boat and for the first time since my stumble, I slept for over six hours. At my follow up appointment with the PA some 10 days later, I was doing markedly better. I asked her for a prescription of Cataflam, an anti-inflammatory I had used when recovering from my back injury. It had been a while since I had taken it, but in the past, I had responded to it well. While I was still having pain in my arm and hand, it was lessening and my strength was slowly returning. At this point, the actual shoulder strain was almost forgotten, as the nerve issues had taken center stage. The nerve pain medicine also seemed to be working well.
The Elmwood Inn, a Luxurious Bed & Breakfast, Dates to 1820
However, another change was afoot. I began experiencing severe indigestion soon after taking the medicine doses. I was also experiencing bouts of ravenous hunger while simultaneously feeling bloated to the point of nausea. Something was not right. It turns out, these are well known and common side effects for both the Cataflam and the nerve pain medicine, Gabapentin. By now, I was doing quite well in managing my pain with either aspirin or Tylenol and was just taking the Gabapentin at night. I stopped the Gabapentin and felt some relief, but the symptoms returned. I stopped taking the Cataflam, and the indigestion and bizarre hunger and bloating symptoms vanished by the next morning.
A Victorian beauty
During our newfound time in Washington, Lisa and I have explored the waterfront and neighborhoods filled with historic homes. We’ve sampled most of the restaurants within walking distance, and found a great little wine shop. Although most of our time has been spent ‘resting’ and healing, it has been fun to get out and about.
Washington is Filled With Lovely Historic Homes
I’ve been ‘released’ from the doctor’s care, operating as much as pain and common sense will allow. Of course, this has changed our sailing plans. I’m still having some pain in my left arm and hand, all nerve related. My upper arm still feels as if I have a moderately bad sunburn, though that seems to diminish a bit each day. My left hand is the bigger concern. My grip strength is way off, and I still have episodes of numbness and attention getting pain around my index finger and the back of my hand. Making an offshore passage isn’t in the cards for me until I’m fully recovered. I can’t trust my grip in the event I need to hold on or steady myself, not to mention doing my share of the routine things that are a part of daily life at sea – sail handling, steering, and the like.
Right now, the plan is for Lisa and I to get JO BETH to Morehead City, North Carolina and stage there for an offshore passage to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. The trip to Morehead City would be done entirely by motor and should be relatively easy. Once at Morehead City, our friend Jesus would meet us there and he and Lisa would take JO BETH offshore to Hilton Head, and I would drive Jesus’ car back to Georgia. We could make the trip in the Intracoastal Waterway, but it would take significantly longer and cost significantly more. With a good weather window, JO BETH can make the offshore run from Morehead City to Hilton Head in two or three days. The same trip in the waterway would take two weeks, perhaps even a bit longer. Things are far from certain, but that’s the best we’ve been able to come up with for the moment. Timing, as it usually is, will be key.
Once in Hilton head, we’ll begin a long awaited and planned canvas project, and installation of some new navigational and electronics systems. We’ll also be replacing our dinghy and outboard. Many of you know we had put our Foldable RIB inflatable dinghy and motor up for sale, as it wasn’t really suiting our style of cruising and sailing. We’re happy to announce our dear ‘Frankie’ now has a new home and owners in the Outer Banks!
Also, we’re introducing a new feature with this blog post: Stops Along the Way. This will feature a discussion of various ports and harbors where we stop, the amenities available, what we like and don’t like and so on. Please feel free to make any comments or offer input! You can find the link in the link column to the left.
As always, there is lots more to follow - stay tuned!