The banks were lined with rocks and beautiful beaches as we road along the river. We arrived into the Old Yacht Basin at Southport Marina a little after 10am and were quickly tied up to the face dock by the marina office as we were only staying one night. A quick in and out…it was a perfect location. Hot and humid was the typical weather forecast these days, but the occasional thunderstorm that unexpectedly pop up was not in the Captain’s (my personal meteorologist) predictions for today, so I hung the rain jackets on the fly bridge to dry out. On July 23rd, the National Hurricane Center pinpointed a tropical wave off the coast of Africa which has been developing into possibly the next hurricane. It was too soon to tell the path the storm would take, so we decided to keep pushing North and, because of this decision, only had a day to explore the area.
Robert and Kay Creech were the Harbor Hosts at Southport and I had sent a text a few days earlier for recommendations during our short stay. Their boat, C-Life, was docked at the marina and Robert told us to stop by the house right up the road on our way to town. Their Victorian home had a prefect waterfront view from the front porch and, as we looked through our welcome package which included a stick painted red on one end and green on the other to keep on the control panel (which I for one appreciated very much) reminding us what side the buoy should be on traveling up the ICW, they told us stories of their life in this quaint historic town. They were full of great information and provided us with helpful maps for our walking tour. Heading down to River Walk, we saw many preserved landmarks that symbolized the city of Southport— one being the Historic Pilot House. Dubbed “Hollywood East,” we were surprised by the fact that 20+ movies and TV shows had filmed on location in the town over the years and, after a quick tasting at the Silver Coast Winery and then picking up 2 lbs of salt water taffy, we walked around to see some of the highlights and enjoy the sweets. We strolled by where I Know What You Did Last Summer and Dawson’s Creek were filmed and made our way to Fishy Fishy Cafe which was the location of the Stowaway Tavern in Revenge. Walking on Bay Street along the Cape Fear River, we stopped by the Waterfront Park and laughed at the fact that the water skiing scene from Weekend at Bernie’s was filmed right here. The Captain was not as intrigued by the Hollywood “East” Walk of Fame as I was, so we made our way back to the docks to have dinner. I had my hopes up for a delicious meal at Provision Company, but we had failed to make a reservation and there was a two hour wait. Idling up to the bar at The Frying Pan to discuss our options, the Captain was in no mood to wait and the bartender talked us into some fried shrimp baskets and ice cold beer. After dinner we were able to catch an amazing sunset on the City Pier before heading back to the boat.
We had a comfortable night with the A/C pumping and didn’t get moving until almost 9:30am the next morning. Cleaning the poop tank was on the Captain’s agenda that morning so I left him to his business and I organized the cabin and planned our day. Out on Cape Fear after leaving the basin, Duane joked that he could let out a line and pull me on the tube reenacting the scene from Weekend at Bernie’s. I voted against that idea and settled in for the ride safely in my First Mate’s chair.
That day was full of excitement. We saw a dredge boat in action grabbing huge amounts of sand with it’s monstrous claw. There were tugs traveling all along the way managing their wide loads. In Snow’s Cut we saw a huge alligator but it was gone before I had my camera ready. A storm was hot on our trail and the Captain throttled up to 14 mph in an effort to get in front of it. We were still going 9 mph in the Black Mud Channel when two dolphins came alongside the boat to ride our wake. This event was always a highlight for Duane and he ran to the bow for a closer look. After going about 66 miles, we dropped anchor at 7pm in Mile Hammock Bay at Camp Lejeune hoping to catch some military maneuvers. A crazy electrical storm started a few hours later producing sensational brilliant flashes in the night sky for about thirty minutes straight. I had never experienced anything like that before and at first thought they were fireworks.
We could hear blasts in the distance and military exercises were beginning on shore by the time we woke up. We weren’t accustomed to the procedures and we set off by 7:15 that morning toward Morehead City. Our first oversight was not checking the conditions at the Onslow Beach Bridge. It is a single pivot swing bridge operated on the US Navy base and will not open if the wind gusts are 30 mph. Luckily the wind meter used by the bridge operator was malfunctioning and, being an exceptionally windy morning, he asked us what wind speed we were recording. The highest we had seen on our meter was 26 mph but we downplayed it somewhat as it was very close to the limit which would have delayed us indefinitely if he had chosen not to open that hour. Not 50 yards passed the bridge we were stopped by a military boat. This was our second oversight for not checking when the live fire exercises begin and end. We were told the ICW was currently closed and we were required to anchor and wait for the military to give us the all clear to proceed. The young cadets did not have much more information and said the exercises may go on until noon —4 hours from now. This was not what we wanted to hear as it was a long travel day to Morehead City and this delay would put us there well after dark fighting a strong current into the dock. Fortunately, the powers that be were in our favor again, and at 9:15 one of the cadets yelled over that we could proceed to the next check point as the exercises were halted until 10 am. Once we pulled anchor we had roughly 40 minutes to get 8 miles out of the firing zone. Fingers crossed, I cranked in the chain as fast as I could and we took off before they changed their minds after realizing how slow we actually travel. Thankfully we passed through without incident or witnessing any bullets whizzing by as we missed the time frame by at least 15 minutes. It was a slow go again with the current against us out on the Bogue Sound and we had Morehead City in our sights around 3:30 with plenty of light left in the day. As we we warned, there was a strong current pulling into the slips at the city dock, but the Captain maneuvered her in perfectly as Lee, the dock master, helped secure the lines much to the disappointment of the crowd waiting for some excitement at our expense. It had started to rain slightly so we grabbed our jackets and walked along the docks. Morehead City is known for its charter fishing and is the sight of the annual Big Rock Blue Marlin Fishing Tournament. Part of the Crystal Coast, the community was loaded with shops, boutiques and eateries serving up the best of the locally caught fresh ocean catch. I dragged Duane into some shops, coerced him into an olive oil tasting and a flight of beer at Tight Line Brewing before we ended the night with a delicious meal at Floyds 1921 on the outside porch. The rest of the evening was quiet as people roamed the waterfront and we enjoyed a glass of wine on the fly bridge. The next morning we went to the local Hardware Store to try and locate a gasket and struck up a conversation with the owner who was originally from Brooklyn, NY. It never ceases to amaze us at the hospitality afforded to us in our travels as he offered to drive us to the next town if we weren’t able to find what we were looking for. Luckily, he had what we needed and we were more than happy to give him the business. All the breakfast places were packed so I had to settle for a muffin and then, with Lee’s help pushing us off the dock, we were on our way across the harbor to the Town Creek Marina.
We had been keeping ourselves abreast of the storm situation and just found out that the tropical disturbance had now organized into Tropical Storm Isaias. And, to make matters worse, one of the projected paths was directly over our current location in Beaufort, NC.
Passing directly through the commercial area, the waterfront was being secured for the worst storm outcome which was predicted to arrive in the next few days. We were tied up on the outside of the face dock the first day at Town Creek, but moved to an inside slip the next morning as the water was getting rougher and we were being relentlessly slammed against the pilings. That first evening we had an early dinner at City Kitchen located at the marina and then had a cocktail at the Tiki Bar overlooking the water. Having an unparalleled waterfront view from our own home, we walked back down the dock and sat up on the fly bridge soaking it all in. On the boat next to us, Nick had just driven down from NJ for a visit and was waiting for his uncle, so we invited him to join us. Once his uncle arrived, we all hung out well into the evening as we were staying put in Town Creek until the storm passed…or that was our intention.
Now a full fledged hurricane with sustained winds of 85 mph or more, it was brought to our attention that, since we were transients, if a mandatory evacuation order was issued and boats were required to be hauled out, we would be forced to leave the marina. I was starting to get nervous but we had a few backup plans and we still had two or three days for things to change as the hurricane was still over the Caribbean. Walking downtown our first full day in Beaufort, the nautical vibe was overflowing in every shop and storefront. An iconic coastal town in love with fishing dating back over 300 hundred years, we set out on my personalized walking tour of the Historic district. Once we walked through the peaceful Old Burying Grounds, one of the oldest cemeteries in North Carolina, and stopped off at the historic Old Methodist Church, our tour would not be complete without a gander at the Hammock House which is said to be haunted . The oldest house in Beaufort dating back to 1700, the Hammock House was the home of the infamous pirate Blackbeard who hailed from the area.
Walking along the waterfront on Front Street we sat for a while at Graydon Paul Park to enjoy the view of Taylor Creek. Once again my tour schedule was slightly daunting for the Captain as it was well passed lunch time, so I let him pick the next stop. Once seated at Mezcalito Grill and Tequila Bar, we ordered nachos and some tacos and his face soon regained its color and he was no longer facing starvation. Hitting the Fishtowne Brew House before the walk back to the marina, we sampled some of the local craft brews. A tiny brewery with a welcoming vibe, we were pleased with our selections and extremely enjoyed the nautical ambiance. The sunset that evening was spectacular and almost blinding as we made our way back to the boat.
We had made our decision to move up South River to a Hurricane Hole, throw out all three anchors we had onboard and pray for the best. A mandatory evacuation order had been issued that morning and the marina had commenced the haul out program for their slip owners. Numerous calls around the area to find a marina which would take us in did not amount to anything and we were reassured by the locals that many had weathered previous hurricanes in the recommended anchorage. Planning to leave the following afternoon toward the river, we borrowed the courtesy car to get storm provisions and brick oven pizza at the Black Sheep. Over lunch we discussed our decision and agreed it was a safe option. We were both nervous and anxious as surviving a hurricane was not something we ever envisioned on the trip…but neither was snow in Kentucky and be battered in 6-8 foot seas and we made it out on the good end of those situations. Chatting with Susan and Robert on La Buono Vita they were explaining all their boat woes as they had been at the marina for a year getting repairs and now the hurricane was heading straight for us. They were being hauled out the next day and we explained our plans to anchor and hunker down and we wished each other luck.
Miraculously, right before we were set to depart the next afternoon, the hurricane weakened after making landfall on North Andros Island in the Bahamas and was downgraded to a tropical storm. We prayed for everyone on Andros as this was a monumental stop on our trip. With the mandatory evacuation order lifted, we were now permitted to stay at the marina. We both let out a sigh of relief as neither of us was ever too keen on being at anchor all alone facing the unknown wrath of mother nature. It was a gorgeous day…as they say, the calm before the storm, and with no where pressing to go any longer, we took the bikes for a leisurely ride down Front Street. Viewing some more of the homes dating back hundreds of years, we turned off at Oceanview Cemetery and ventured into Mill Whistle Brewing. A barn was set up on the grounds called the Oak Room allowing for social distancing and we sat down and had a cold drink on the hot summer day. Once back at the marina, we met up with Robert and Susan and, as they were curious about our trip, we filled them in on our continuing Loop adventure.
It was now August 3rd and the fifth day since we arrived in Beaufort. Tropical Storm Isaias was barreling through Florida and heading for us. The storm eventually strengthened back into a Cat 1 Hurricane, but there was no time to haul boats and, under safe harbor law, there was not enough time for us to safely relocate elsewhere so we were permitted to stay. We had every line we owned securing us to the dock like a spiderweb, the fenders tied on both sides from the bow to the stern and we hoisted Baby Belle onto the bow and secured her down. We removed the bimini top from the fly bridge and took all the cushions and bins into the salon. The marina had positioned a 50 foot boat on either side of us so we felt this was as safe as we were going to be. The upgraded state-of-the-art hardwood docks installed at the marina to dissipate the wave surge was also a comfort. We checked in with Robert and Susan and the couple on the sailboat next to us making sure everyone was set. We all agreed to have the VHF on channel 72 in case something happened and then let out the lines so we were floating in the middle of the slip and waited…and waited.
I was constantly watching the storm move North wreaking havoc on the Carolinas. Winds picked before midnight and maxed out on the meter at 45 mph. The howling sound was deafening and Baby Belle was soon banging uncontrollably against the hatch. Grabbing our head lamps, we radioed Susan and Robert to tell them we were going outside, and went to tighten the lines holding the dinghy down. It was pouring rain so hard we could hardly see and I held on to the side rails as long as I could and then pretty much crawled the rest of the way. Once back inside, I pulled towels out soaking up water from leaks I didn’t even know we had. The fenders were serving no purpose as the wind was so strong they were vertical most of the time and every so often slammed down against the boat before being airborne again. At one point a trawler at anchor broke free and was haplessly motoring around to keep from being pushed onshore. It was definitely going to be a long night for him. Thinking the storm was calming, Duane went up to the fly bridge to view the situation. It was around 2 am now and the rain had stopped. I went up to take a look with him and a gust of wind almost took us both off the boat. The wind had to be close to 70 mph and we retreated back into the cabin as fast as we could and locked the door. A few hours later, we had survived, Bella Donna did not have a scratch on her and we started to put everything back together. Pulling in the lines, we jumped on to the dock and we were happy that everyone else was in good spirits and weathered the night with little to no issues. Unfortunately, the trawler had lost his battle with the surge and ended up in the oyster beds high and dry.
Sadly, we came to find out that Southport Marina where we had been only 8 days earlier was completely destroyed. We prayed that Robert and Kay who had so graciously invited us to their home were OK. The next day we were able to get in touch with them finding out that they were well, but the fate of their boat was unknown.
Duane used part of the afternoon while the bimini top was down to repair the tears in the fabric covering. He also tried to repair the leak on Baby Belle and prayed the patch would hold for the remainder of our trip. Then we headed off downtown with Robert and Susan to have dinner at Mezcalito. I told Duane that if all went well after the storm passed, I had wanted to go see the wild horses on Shakleford Island so we invited Robert and Susan along and all planned to leave the dock at around 9am. They were happy to have company on their first test drive since the repairs and we were happy to have friends to travel with even if it was for one day.