We were soon crossing the Abelmarle Sound, which could be treacherous, but today we had fair winds and following seas…every boater’s dream. We were warned extensively about the shoaling on our approach to the marina, and the storm made the terrain of the area much more unpredictable, so we did not deviate from the detailed course we were given when passing each buoy into the breakwater. We were happy to be coming in from the North as the Oregon Inlet, and its ever-changing geography, was reported to be a dangerous area to traverse especially after the recent storm. Unscathed, we pulled in to slip #13 at the Manteo Waterfront Marina on Roanoke Island and were greeted by Mike Glover, the Harbor Host. Mike was very informative and graciously lent us his jeep for the two days we would be on the island.
We decided to make the most of the opportunity and drove to the Wrights Brothers Memorial in Kill Devil Hills. Originally within the confines of Kitty Hawk, we walked the grounds and along the very path the brothers took launching the first flight into history in 1903 after extensive research and painstaking experiments. The winds, high sand dunes and unobstructed topography is what enticed them to this very place over one hundred years ago. We were in awe of the sheer will and determination they had to make their dream come to fruition as we heard of the harsh conditions they lived in and the laborious trials of the power glider.
This was a typical beach town with surf shops and seafood shacks lining the shore and we took a walk on the sand taking it all in. One could surely get lost in the beauty and splendor of the moment looking out over the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. Mike had invited us back to Pirate’s Cove Marina where him, his wife, Beth, and son, Griffin, resided. Jumping back in the jeep we rolled down all the windows to breathe in the crisp ocean air and made our way back toward the marina. Pirates Cove was the quintessential sport fishing locale of the Outer Banks. Mike took us for a spin around the grounds in his golf cart and we made our way to the docks to tour his beautiful Hatteras and see the Billfish tournament in full swing. Up and down the docks, crews were polishing and washing down their boats and getting their lines ready to go out and score the biggest catch. It was a frenzy of activity we hadn’t seen in some time and we were excited to be in the midst of all the excitement.
Heading down to Nags Head Beach the next morning, we had a chance to relax barefoot in the sand for a few hours and take a refreshing dip in the ocean before we left for Wanchese to meet Mike for lunch at O’Neal’s Sea Harvest restaurant. Located right off the shores of the harbor, the fish could not be any fresher than at this family run establishment. After an extremely satisfying meal, we went to visit the Roanoke Island Festival Park and view the Elizabeth II. The 69 foot vessel was a replica of the sailing ship used to transport the Lost Colony to the Outer Banks in 1587 to only mysteriously disappear three years later. Walking through the shops of downtown Manteo we discussed the conspiracy theories written about the fate of the 115 colonists who seemed to disappear into thin air and were leaning toward the assertion that they probably met their end at the hands of the natives of the island who pounced in the dead of the night. Stopping in the pop-up winery –Vineyards On the Scuppernong –we had a tasting of the sweet wines made from the state fruit of North Carolina and purchased a bottle of the blackberry blend to enjoy on the deck. Walking down a few blocks, we made our way to the distillery everyone was raving about to sample some of the Kill Devil Hills Rum. Duane ranked it up there with one of his favorites, The Kraken, and we left heavy with two bottles for the ride North. A fitting way to end our stay on the island, we had dinner at the Lost Colony Brewery in the heart of downtown Manteo. The fare at the brewery was as enjoyable as the local brews and we were grateful for the time to unwind.
Our return trip across the Abelmarle Sound was thankfully as calm and uneventful as our first crossing. We left early to avoid the approaching thunderstorms predicted by noon and were well passed Camden Point and onto the North River when the rain started. Motoring along the North Carolina cut, we tied up on the bulkhead of Coinjock Marina early in the afternoon in a light drizzle. Two black Labrador Retrievers guarded the entrance of the marina office and they were total pushovers after a few scratches behind the ears. Grabbing a cold beer from the tap behind the front desk, the dogs settled in at our feet as we chatted with the guys inside and placed our order for the famous prime rib dinner at the Sand Bar. Billed by many boaters as the best prime rib on the Intracoastal, I had time to shower and freshen up before our meal was ready. The Captain had higher expectations for the steak than I did. As I thought it was a delicious piece of meat, he was a harsher critic as nothing would ever beat a New York City Capital Grill steak for that price. Sitting at an outside table after our meal, we listened to the live band before walking back to the boat to prepare for our travels the next day leading us into Virginia and through the last lock of the trip.
Out on the Bay, our route would navigate us through the Virginia Cut. Duane had been against traveling through the Dismal Swamp all along, but Isaias made the ultimate decision for us, closing the route entirely as it was virtually impassable at the moment. The Currituck Sound lead us onto North Landing River and directly to the Albemarle and Chesapeake Canal and into another state — “Welcome to Virginia.” For the next twenty miles or so there was a series of bridges we would have to schedule passage through as well as the Great Bridge Lock adjacent to the drawbridge which was used to regulate the tide height between the Ablemarle Sound and the Chesapeake Bay. The first few bridges went seamlessly, but having to speed up to make the Great Bridge Draw, the port engine overheated and thick smoke streamed from the side vent. My heart dropped and I thought we had to abandon ship. After lunging to grab our “Go Bag,” the Captain asked me to hold the wheel and he rushed to the engine room. Hearing the word “steam” helped me calm down somewhat, but I thought we were dead in the water as the starboard engine was not a reliable backup at the present time. Duane came back up to the fly bridge after putting the old engine belt back on and said we could make it to Norfolk where he would be able to make the needed repairs. It felt like forever before the bridge opened and we made it under and into the lock which would drop us about two feet. Very anticlimactic after the 107 locks we have passed through over the last 13 months. I was pretty quiet the rest of the ride glancing every so often over the side to make sure we were not overheating again. Now on the Chesapeake Bay, we anchored in Hospital Point in Norfolk–Mile 0 on the ICW. It was now early evening and we thought it was easier to go into the marina in the morning.
Duane changed the belt on the port engine the next morning and cleaned up the water in the engine room. Pulling anchor we crossed over to Waterside Marina and tied up at the dock.
Relieved to be stationary for a few days, I suggested to Duane that he take a break from engine repairs and we walk to town. Norfolk was the biggest city we had been to in a while and we noticed how different the virus was being treated the further North we went—which basically meant a lot more closures and restrictions. The Nauticus Maritime Museum was closed but we grabbed a bite at Wisky situated next to the USS Wisconsin. The massive ship dwarfed all the vessels in the harbor with the anchors themselves each weighing 30,000 pounds. Moving down Freemason Street, we toured the historical homes and walked into the Old Norfolk Library looking for a bathroom. The front door was wide open so we had no way of knowing that this was now a private residence until we made our way upstairs opening a door into a bedroom and were greeted by two barking dogs. The architecture was astonishing and the stairway sprawling and I was amazed that someone was actually able to call this their home. The woman who came out to collect the dogs was extremely understanding and personable filling us in on the history of the property. We thanked her for her time and apologized for the intrusion. Making our way out to the street, we both burst out laughing. Duane said we were lucky we weren’t shot on the spot. I thought she should have just locked her doors.
The Freemason Abbey was a restaurant built in an old historic 19th century church. The original stain glass added to the ambiance of the interior and we ordered an appetizer and drink at the bar. Making our way over to view the Basilica of Saint Mary, we continued our tour by hitting Circuit Social to play video games and imbibe in the self-serve beer wall.
Gershwin’s Piano Bar was an unexpected find. The eclectic decor, live lounge music and time period appropriate dressed wait staff made this speakeasy a great draw. Add in the skilled mixologist who made us a spectacular old fashioned accompanied by exceptional truffle fries, this place was quickly becoming a favorite. We had plans to go to Granby Street Pizza for dinner, but agreed to fit Gershwin’s in our schedule once more before we left.
It was pouring rain the whole next day and our efforts to walk downtown were thwarted more than once. The weather cleared up enough around 5pm that we were able to throw on our jackets and walk to the Brick Anchor Brew House before the storm got worse again. True to his word, Duane took me to Gershwin’s for a delicious dinner accompanied by some entertaining jazz music.
There was a small craft advisory the following day with winds in excess of 15 knots. The marina allowed us to stay in our slip most of the afternoon and Paul, who Duane had been speaking with from the Trojan forum, stop by the boat for a tour and to hear about our trip aboard the 35 year old boat. After he left, the winds had subsided and we rented lime scooters and took off to the breweries. It took me a while to get a hang of the scooter and at 10 mph it seemed like I was traveling on the autobahn. I was soon steady enough to confidently turn corners easily and first we zipped over to Smart Mouth Brewery and then to Bench Top Brewing. On the way back to the marina we scooted through downtown Norfolk’s Neon District and Plum Point Park for a quick glimpse of the diverse landscape of the city. Returning the scooters to the waterfront with not a scratch on them or myself, we readied the boat to move back to Hospital Point for the evening. Moving on in the morning, Yorktown would be our second stop on the Chesapeake.
