We left Brunswick on a cloudy Thursday afternoon and this time, we had no fuel issues. Actually, we had no issues whatsoever. Before leaving, we once again topped off our provisions, water tanks, and fuel, this time adding more of the new Fuel Right treatment. I’m happy to say, knocking on wood as I say it, that all seems well with the fuel system.
It’s been a while since we traversed the Intracoastal Waterway in Georgia, and we were once again happy to become reacquainted with its natural and largely undeveloped beauty. Due to the fuel tank and fuel issues we had just dealt with, we needed to burn through most if not all of the fresh fuel in the tank, and staying in the waterway gave us the opportunity to do just that. We had been watching thunderstorms build to our west as we snaked our way through the various rivers, creeks, and sounds which make up the waterway. As we passed the very northern end of St. Simons Island, we watch as one monstrous storm crossed in front of us. On our way through Buttermilk and Altamaha Sounds, the storms inched ever closer. Our luck in dodging them was running out.
We had timed our departure to arrive at the mouth of the Little Mud River near Darien at a couple of hours prior to the high tide. Little Mud River is notoriously shallow, and for some vessels, impassable at lower tide levels. JO BETH needs a minimum of five feet of water to float, and at low tide we wouldn’t get through. We hoped the storms would at least spare us until we were out of the Little Mud and into the deeper waters of the North River and Doboy Sound. We got our wish.
Rain Squall Over Sapelo Island
Not more than five minutes after we left Little Mud in our wake, the walls of rain closed in upon us. The rain was cool and a relief from the heat of the afternoon, but in short order, became cold and stinging as it blew under our awning in the gusty winds. Our visibility was quickly reduced to mere feet, and we relied on the navigation screen of our chartplotter and the AIS system to warn us of approaching vessels. As the rain began to lighten, a simultaneous blinding flash of light and explosive thunderclap made us jump as a bolt of lightning struck in the nearby marsh. Fortunately, the rain soon eased into a light summer shower and then a soft sprinkle as we crossed the choppy waters of Doboy Sound, making for the entrance to the Duplin River, where we planned to be anchored for the coming three days. There was no more thunder and lightning.
We entered the mouth of the Duplin, speeding along with the incoming tide, and found our spot to anchor about a half mile north of the ferry landing which carries island locals, scientists, and the occasional tourist to Sapelo Island. The University of Georgia maintains a marine biology research station on Sapelo. The skies soon cleared and a light southerly breeze filled in as we settled in for the night.
Sapelo Island Sunset…
The next three days were bright, sunny, and hot as we lazed around JO BETH, getting back into our ‘underway’ routines and generally adjusting to life underway. Cell signals were decent in the area, so Lisa was able to do some work and I was able to get weather briefings and updates. We watched a lovely and intensely orange full moon rise from the pine and oak forests of Sapelo on Friday evening. Dolphins swam in and out of the river feeding on schools of small fish and shore birds were everywhere. Pelicans wheeled overhead, diving headlong into the river and ospreys gracefully swooped low and plucked unsuspecting fish from just below the river’s surface with their needle sharp talons. The Duplin River is one of our favorite anchorages along the entirety of the southeastern US coastline.
…And the Full Moon Rising
On Sunday morning, July 25, we weighed anchor and left the Duplin, bound for an anchorage in Buckhead Creek, on the northwestern tip of Ossabaw Island. The anchorage lay some 35 miles to our north and was approximately 25 miles south of Savannah. Sunday was hot and humid, true to a coastal Georgia summer, as we moved past beautiful pine and oak forested islands, with the marsh an ever present vibrant green all around us. Soon we entered the choppy waters of Sapelo Sound, and were slowed by a fierce incoming tidal flow to a mere three knots at times. Sapelo Sound separates the islands of Sapelo and St. Catherines, and soon we were riding the incoming tide into Johnson Creek behind St. Catherines Island. After a while of snaking through the twists and turns of Johnson Creek, we entered the wide and deep waters of St. Catherines Sound. The incoming tide was a bit less fierce now, and we slipped past the popular anchorage areas of Cattle Pen Creek and Walburg Creek, and entered the Bear River.
The Bear River is relatively wide and quite deep in spots, and makes gentle turns and sweeps through the coastal landscape. Late in the afternoon, as the waterway made a sharp turn to the north, we continued east into Buckhead Creek. Buckhead Creek is also wide and deep, and we pushed in a mile or so until we found a reasonably shallow spot in which to anchor. By ‘reasonable,’ I mean a spot less than 20 feet in depth at low tide, the time of which was rapidly approaching. We found a spot around 16 feet deep and anchored. We really enjoyed our time in Buckhead Creek, seeing only one other boat while we were there. It’s an anchorage we’d definitely use again.
When we anchor JO BETH, we follow a strict methodology of getting the anchor to set in the bottom and stay put, regardless of what wind and tide may do. The anchoring system is one of our most critical pieces of safety gear. It must keep us in one place, even as the tide and currents may shift 360° twice every 24 hours. We rely on our anchoring skills to keep the boat, (and us!), where we want to be, and safe and secure in all weather.
Monday morning dawned gray and full of rain sprinkles as we upped anchor and headed back to the waterway channel. After entering the Ogeechee River, rain began to fall steadily. Fortunately, this time there was no wind or thunder and lightning, but the rain was super heavy and visibility quickly went from a few miles to a few feet. A small crab boat, working pulling his traps to our west, quickly vanished in the curtain of rain. Seabirds settled onto the water around us, and we motored onward through the deluge. After about half an hour, the rain moved to the northwest, leaving us in a flat calm as we approached the dreaded Hell Gate passage.
This ‘Local’ Swam by While We Were Anchored in the Herb River
Hell Gate is a ‘land cut’ through a small island which the waterway follows near the confluence of the Ogeechee and Vernon Rivers as they flow into Ossabaw Sound. The cut is notorious for shoaling and has to be dredged frequently; it’s another of those waterway stretches which demands a skipper’s respect and attention. We always timed our passages through it for the high tide, and this time was no exception. Of course, we made it through just fine. Under clearing skies, we made the turn toward the southern neighborhoods of Savannah which border the Intracoastal Waterway. In the early afternoon, we set our anchor in the mouth of the Herb River, just south of the small town of Thunderbolt, GA. We made plans to move to Thunderbolt Marina the following day, as we needed to do laundry and pick up some mail the marina was holding for us. The Herb River is familiar to us, as we used to spend nights anchored there in our first little sailboat some 30 years ago. Now, the area is much more developed and the boat traffic there has increased ten-fold. Minor wakes from passing boats were a common occurrence.
Heavy thunderstorms with rain moved over us most of the night. Tuesday morning dawned gray and rainy. At noon, we weighed anchor and got underway for the marina, less than a mile north of our anchorage. Once secured, we gathered our dirty and wet clothes and towels and did laundry, taking much needed showers later in the day. We can shower on the boat, and did as we made our way north, but we must be mindful of the water consumption since fresh water is limited to what we can carry. Still, nothing can take the place of a long and unlimited proper shower! And, the marina delivers a fresh daily half-dozen Krispy-Kreme Doughnuts to the boat every morning!
We Had an Amazing Light Show While Anchored in the Herb River Just East of Savannah
While we were anchored in the Herb River, Lisa’s aging laptop finally died…or so it seemed. The machine became non-responsive save for a colored sequence of flashing lights. According to multiple Google searches, the light sequence we were seeing indicated a failure of the motherboard – the CPU – the brains and nervous system of the machine. She promptly went onto the Dell website and ordered a new machine, paying for overnight delivery. The next day, we met our friend Paul for lunch and a ride to the local Publix to top up our provisions. (Thanks, Paul!) Once back at the boat, Lisa checked the status of the computer delivery and was shocked to see that shipping was scheduled for August 23rd!
Lisa called Dell and, once Dell confirmed the shipping info was correct, cancelled the order. She then called Dell again and ordered a different computer that was in stock, again paying for overnight shipping with delivery to a friend’s house on Hilton head Island, SC, our next planned stop. This time, the computer arrived two days earlier than promised!
We left Thunderbolt Marina Thursday at noon and motored the 25 miles north to Hilton Head Island under a hot summer sun. About an hour before sunset, we were anchored in Skull Creek on the northern end of the island. We knew a week of bad weather was approaching and accordingly, made plans to go into Skull Creek Marina on the upcoming Sunday. Skull Creek flows around two unnamed marsh islands, and we were anchored in the east channel of creek. The waterway channel follows a longer route on the west side of the islands. We soon discovered the spur of the creek where we had anchored was used extensively as a short-cut by a great number of local boats. Repeated wakes became an annoying fact of life – more on that in a bit.
Another reason for our stop in Hilton Head was to meet with a couple of shops about a big canvas project we’re planning. That’s largely the subject for an upcoming post, but the gist of it is we’re planning to design and build a full enclosure for JO BETH’s cockpit.
In spite of the wakes, the days in Skull Creek were largely quiet and enjoyable, but it was incredibly hot. Fortunately, we had a persistent southwesterly breeze blowing the entire time. In the shade of the cockpit awning and at night, it was reasonably comfortable to be outside. The cabin though, was another matter, especially in the daytime. Our poor refrigerator and freezer were working overtime, and by early evening on Friday, the freezer temperature had crept up to 31°. The solar panels were putting out plenty of power, but simply couldn’t keep up with the demand on the batteries, mostly because the refrigerator compressor was working overtime. Accordingly, we made the decision to come into Skull Creek Marina a day early so we could plug into shore power.
Sunset Over Skull Creek, Hilton Head Island
As I mentioned above, the days anchored in Skull Creek were spent rocking about in the near constant stream of wakes from passing boats. Fortunately, the wakes lessened considerably after dark. Virtually all of these wakes were from small fishing boats; most of which are privately owned, and a few were commercial charter boats. A small handful were smaller commercial fishing boats. The private boats were operated by their local owners or tourists; and for the latter, the boat was very likely included with their condo or Air BnB rental, or rented to them.
The problem is that very few of these boaters, and perhaps most of them, aren’t familiar with the common courtesies and rules for boat operation. By law, the operator of the boat, as well as the owner, are responsible for damages caused by their wakes. In our situation, the wakes were not damaging, but were definitely a nuisance. When passing an anchored vessel, a boat is required to slow to idle speed until past, then once past, may resume a normal safe speed. To be fair, a good number of vessels did slow their speed, but not enough. This caused the boat to push more water aside than it would had it remained at speed on plane, thus causing a larger wake. Also, many of the commercial charter boats, whose professional captains certainly know the rules, were among the worst offenders. Many of these boats weren’t properly trimmed, causing them to plow through the water bow high, creating a much larger wake than if the hull was fully planeing across the top of the water as it’s designed to do.
In addition, many boats passed far too close to us. Skull Creek is plenty deep right up to the shore in many spots. Some roared past us literally 15 or 20 feet away, and several passed unnervingly close to our bow, from which our anchor chain and snubber line – a sort of shock absorber – are rigged. The only large boat which passed us, a commercial shrimping vessel which does need deep water to float, went out of her way to give us a wide pass.
There are certainly those captains and boat owners that take a perverse delight in ‘waking’ anchored or moored boats, especially sailboats, I don’t have a sense of ill intention being at work here. Most operators and captains were friendly and waved as they passed by, even those that came uncomfortably close. I feel their behavior is most probably due to a lack of boating experience, ignorance of proper seamanship, or in most situations, a combination of both.
We plan to be in Hilton Head for a week or so. Not only did we need to pick up Lisa’s new laptop computer, but we have some fairly severe weather approaching, which by mid-week, is forecast to be affecting the majority of the US east coast. Heavy rain, severe thunderstorms, and strong winds are forecast to persist through at least Thursday or Friday of this week. We are a client of Marine Weather Center, which issues detailed weather forecasts designed specifically for sailors around the world. The forecaster’s message since last week for moving along the US east coast almost all of this week has been: “Squalls become more numerous and prevent reasonable travel for the entirety of next week.”
At the moment, after listening to this morning’s weather briefing and chatting with a forecaster, it’s looking like Sunday or Monday next week may be our best days. We may take a chance with Saturday, but we’ll see how things play out. Until then, we’re enjoying having A/C, catching up with friends here on the island, both sailors and not, seeing some interesting boats, and getting a bit of rest.