Honey Queen Adventures

I begin this chapter of the trip highlighting the last few weeks. Our plans to be off the boat for 3 weeks turned to 5 weeks. We enjoyed the time off the boat by welcoming William Hughes Dorman into the world, cutting grass at Sweetwater for a few days, Amanda attending her college reunion, celebrating our 41st anniversary, and having a side trip to Williamsburg on the return trip to the boat.

In these days we have learned much, which follows:

B.O.A.T. is an acronym for Bill Out Another Thousand. The end of the first leg of our trip was Deltaville, VA. We were having some electrical issues that were confusing me (doesn’t take much), so we determined a good game plan would be to leave the boat at a boat yard, get the repairs done, and not have to pay for storage (in water or out) while we were home enjoying our newest grandson. We soon learned we had other issues much more critical than electrical. My boat vocabulary now includes: shaft sleeve, cutlass bearings, corroded drive shaft, delaminating fiberglass, alternator temperature sensor failure, intermittent voltage regulator. As I borrowed money from my grandchildren’s college fund, I had to remind myself that any one of these things could have been significantly worse if they had gone undiscovered. So I am working on my thankful attitude and trying to refocus on the reason we undertook this adventure. The last couple weeks have made me think that a pleasure boat could possibly be an oxymoron.

The delay for repairs on the boat yard also changed our trip plan. Though The Loop can be done at different paces, there are certain milestones in the journey that must be acknowledged and obeyed, purely for safety. One rule: be off the Great Lakes by Labor Day, ensures avoiding the big winds and seas, and dropping temperatures of the North. We were no longer comfortable we could make that deadline, unless we skipped every site and did nothing but drive the boat on the route. We started this adventure to enjoy the trip and each other; sitting on a boat, burning diesel everyday for 9 weeks didn’t sound fun to us. So, we modified the game plan and decided to enjoy the East Coast until the weather forecast says “cold is coming”. Then we’ll turn South. It is a little of a disappointment, but a necessary decision for safety and enjoyment. We look forward to our modified plan.

With that said, we headed out from Deltaville, VA. on the morning of June 22, after a successful sea trial the day before, ensuring all issues with the boat had been successfully addressed and resolved.

Our plan was to cross the Southern section of the Chesapeake, going West to East, to Tangier Island. Three to four hours, tops. The forecast was windy and choppy, but we were to arrive before noon, so the worst of the wind would come later in the day. With the winds rocking the boat and stirring the fuel in our tanks, the fuel line got stopped up and we our 1 engine shutdown.

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I’ll skip the details of the next few hours, but we were successfully towed in to Tangier, where we spent Friday through Monday cleaning out one tank to ensure trash could not possibly cause a problem like this in the future. I’ve learned much about fuel polishing, as it is called, and now have added fuel polishing to the long list of preventive maintenance practices.

Tangier is a unique little island with lots of history going back to the Revolutionary War. Crabbing and tourism are the only industries holding the little place together. The population continues to dwindle as the kids finish school and move on to where they can make a living. Sadly, the bay is slowly eating away at the land. It is projected the island will be gone in 50 years, unless state or federal funding builds a seawall around the whole island. Not much hope for them.

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We enjoyed meeting Mr. Milton Parks, owner of the little marina (a few slips and a couple of bathrooms). He is famous in the boating community in this area and has a sharp wit that brings lots of smiles. He’s at least the 3rd generation of Parks on the island. Eighty eight years young, and almost deaf, but on his game. A crabber and diesel mechanic all his life, the loud engines of his past make a conversation with this man not only interesting and repetitive, but also pretty challenging. He’s a good man and I am fortunate and better for having met him.

We met new friends at Tangier, enjoyed our last evening together sitting on the dock, and then we all went different directions on Tuesday morning. Our destination was Solomon’s Island. An uneventful ride across the bay, with the Honey Queen performing beautifully. Anchoring out, we really did no site seeing here. The winds were calm, sunset was beautiful, and we savored the quiet solitude of being “on the hook” with no boat or people anywhere nearby.

Wednesday morning, 26 June, we traveled 42 miles North to Annapolis. One of the prettiest days we’ve seen. Winds were 3-5 knots, from the South, with flat seas. It was nice to set the auto-pilot and let the boat hold the course, while I enjoyed a stress free day at the wheel. Amanda even took a little nap below deck it was so smooth.

We stayed in Eastport Yacht Center Marina in Annapolis last night. This is our home until Saturday. Abigail comes in tonight so today is grocery day, boat cleaning, and prepping for company.

We wandered the edge of town, found a little grille called Davis’. We enjoyed a pretzel roll with crab and cheddar cheese melted on top. As Amanda’s dad used to say, “That will make you kiss your mother in law.” Tasty! Laid low the rest of the day. Abigail arrived after midnight, after storms delayed her flight out of Nashville. We had a quick visit and then lights out.

Our 9:30, Mother’s Day exit from Top Rack Marina took us through the heart of Norfolk/Portsmouth.

Our jaws dropped wide open as we passed through. Amanda’s comment was, “We’re not in Kansas anymore.” Our boat, which looks big to many people, was put in perspective as we passed the destroyers, aircraft carriers, frigates, container ships, cruise ships, and barges. What a feeling of humility and awe, appreciative of our armed forces, living in a country where protection of the people has always been the priority and purpose of our government. I’ll stop there as this is not a political debate platform.

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We decided to duck into a marina known as Salt Pond Marina in Hampton Virginia. Nice, economical stay. The plan was 1 night and head to Deltaville, Va. on Monday morning. The morning forecast changed our plan. Winds 15-20 mph, with rain and fog, and lots of open water between here and our destination dictated that we chill another 24 hours. Minor boat maintenance and making our plans for our 2-week “visit” to Savannah became the day’s priorities. Tuesday morning, crack of dawn departure is now Plan A.

The last few days have offered less excitement than the previous, with fewer photo ops, so here’s a summary (as much for me to remember more than your reading pleasure).

We enjoyed time with our old friends, the Adlon’s, who hosted us by serving us lunch in their restaurant, loaning us their truck so we had freedom to play tourist and get a few supplies. We enjoyed dinner with them Friday night.

We toured the Albermarle Museum on Thursday afternoon, learning much of the history of the area, with my favorite being the maritime development influence on the area.

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Friday was spent at the Outer Banks, visiting the site of the Wright Brothers first flight and enjoying the beach for awhile.

Our dockage was complimentary, provided by the city of Elizabeth City. They welcome transients such as us by providing docking on the waterfront. Of course, I always enjoy free. Backing into the tight slip on Thursday afternoon, with significant wind in my face, was not an easy task for this rookie captain. Somehow, the mariner gods smiled on me, and we managed to get backed in. On our exit Saturday morning, those same mariner gods were not so friendly. We had prepped, released the noncritical lines, and Amanda was on the portside side bow to release the last line. I started out, but the boat was behaving erratically. Amanda yelled that I was about to hit one of the pile guides. About the same time, the captain on the boat adjacent to us yelled, “Hey your starboard stern line is still attached to the piling!” Forty years of marriage and we still have communication issues. Amanda flew to the stern, released the line, and it was amazing how well the boat handled. I really wish I had a picture, but we were too busy trying to pull pilings out of the ground.

The Dismal Swamp was our Saturday adventure. We enjoyed this little leg, but won’t repeat it. The pictures show its unique beauty, but the trip was slow and dangerous because of hidden obstacles. We hit something 2 different times. Fortunately, we had no damage.

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The cool part was learning to go through locks. This was our first. Not too difficult now, but we were a little intimidated. The dock keepers are patient, communicate well, and very helpful to those who are less experienced.

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After a VEEERRRRYYY long dissertation on the history of the Dismal Swamp, compliments of the lock keeper, we managed to get to our marina, just before the storm hit. As you can see, not all our scenery is glamorous.

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The hour is late as I wrap this day. I’ll report our excitement through Norfolk tomorrow.

With the gorgeous sunrise we also got this shot of 2 sailboats.  The fog on the water seemed to part so I could get the boats and the fog effect.  I am not an artist and I am not a photographer, but if I was, this would be the painting I would want to paint. Who knows, maybe someday, when I get over my addiction to diesel fumes.

Our original plan today was short.  We would go about 20 miles and anchor at the entrance to the Albermarle Sound. This sound, and the Pamlico that we traversed 2 days back, are known for getting a little “bumpy”.  We got to our planned destination by 11:00ish, and listened to the weather report.  The forecast for the area was “winds up to 5 knots and the seas were an anticipated 1 foot”.  Being the seasoned captain that I am (almost 3 weeks of experience), I determined that there was no better time than the present to make the crossing.  It was a good call.  We made the 15 mile crossing with hardly a ripple on the water.  The only challenge in the crossing was negotiating the crab trap floats.  The very straight line on the charts was more like a pass route that Tom Brady has his receivers run for the Patriots. I am reasonably sure I missed them all and none are hanging from my prop shaft.

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With the crossing, we pushed ourselves on to Elizabeth City, NC. (Mile Marker 51), which is where I am currently writing at the moment. We have plans tomorrow to reconnect with our old friends, Scott & Michelle Adlon.  They were friends in Savannah from our Southside Baptist days.  They are here and own a couple restaurants.  Michelle and Amanda have talked for most of the day, so the next couple days have been programmed strategically by the cruise directors.  It will be fun to catch up with friends from long past.

This was one of our longer days: 53 miles.  That doesn’t sound like very far, but when blazing through the aqua at speeds of 7.5 knots (that’s over 8.5 mph), it can be a pretty long day.  Traveling on a boat at this speed capacity not only allows us to stop and smell the roses, sometimes we can actually watch them grow.

We pulled out at 07500 (10 till 8).  The big adventure was the excitement of passing through the Alligator River-Pungo River Canal. Stories of osprey, bald eagles, alligators, and even an occasional bear sighting had us pumped with anticipation. As it turned out, we saw 5 horseflies, 2 of which drew blood. This man-made canal was long and straight.  Did I say straight?  Were it not for the other occasional boats we met and passed us, I could have set the auto-pilot, taken a nap, had lunch, and read War and Peace without ever touching the wheel. 

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We did get to steer from the flybridge which was nice, as the weather has not been quite warm enough to enjoy it often.  I love having lunch up there.  For those who know me well, Doritos are my main staple.  Having them on the bridge is always a game of cat and mouse.  I have figured out this week that bringing the bag to bridge, in lieu of few on the plate, guarantees entry into my mouth.

Our anchorage this night was on the Upper Alligator River (Mile Marker 101.1).  An old logging channel had been cut in the basin and was well marked on our charts.  We eased into the area with plenty of water (depth) and settled in. Though the tide swing in this area is virtually non-existent, the current does change slightly.  The boat swings on the hook (aka anchor).  The beauty of this particular place was we got to watch a fabulous sunset from our back porch.  And then got to watch an even more spectacular sunrise from…. our back porch. Living in a mobile home that floats has a few disadvantages, but having a different back yard, not only every day, but twice a day, is a pretty cool “thang”.

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This morning was pretty windy, so we sat tight until it settled.  Then late morning we launched the dinghy and headed across to the public docks.  We walked the little town and then had a nice lunch at  M & M’s.   Explored a little more from the dinghy and were Northbound in the Honey Queen by 2:30.

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Our destination was Campbell Creek, an anchorage recommended in our Waterguide. Beautiful setting, with water only 6-7 feet.  We were entering the area pretty slowly when we got a call on the VHF.  “To the trawler coming up Campbell Creek, come in please.”  I answered the guy, thinking, o crud, what have I done (this is a very common thought, as I daily wonder what was I thinking when I bought this boat.) He said, “We are harbor host for this area.  Our dock in front of our home is wide open, if you’d like to tie up there for the night.”  Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in the home of Rip and Beth, who had just completed the Loop in March.  Rip grew up in the Chesapeake Bay area and was a wealth of knowledge.  He gave us tons of pointers assisting us in navigating the Chesapeake and beyond.  What a delightful surprise to have this offering. 

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Left Town Creek Marina Sunday morning.  Our planned time (something we haven’t done much of lately), was 8:30 am.  We squeezed out of our tight slight slip into a tighter fairway (I like to use this word because it sounds like I know what I am talking about—I’ve known this word in this context now for almost 3 weeks), which is the run of water between 2 rows of slips.  I managed to barely hit 1 boat on the exit, backing out.  No damage to either boat.  I just had a serious conversation with myself on how that little bump could have been avoided.  With all that wind, I came to no conclusion.

We drove around to the other side of the marina, as it was time for fuel and a pump-out.  We almost made it to the fuel dock when the 22 mph squall came up.  Rain was horizontal and lasted about 30 minutes.  Amanda had her second shower of the day trying to manage fenders and lines while I tried to pilot our little boat and keep it in the water instead of sitting on the dock. The good news, no damage done.  We should have sat in our nice cozy slip until after the storm passed.  We knew we had weather coming, but really thought it would come after we were underway.  WRONG.  

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Our trip was only about 20 miles to our anchorage in Oriental NC.  Shallow, but well protected, we enjoyed the afternoon reading and soaking up a few rays until sunset.

Saturday morning we walked to town and enjoyed the most wonderful day. Perfect weather. The Wood Boat Show. Build a boat competition. The sum total of the experience made our extended stay at the Town Creek Marina worth every minute.

Below are a blend of pictures of the day. The Wood Boat show brought back lots of memories of my childhood. Mom and Dad will see pictures of boats I remember from Caney Lake and Narrows.

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The boat building competition was so much fun watching. Each team has a kit and plans of the boat they are to build. Some of the material was pre-cut and stands were set up to help the team manage their work. There were approximately 12 2-person teams in the competition. Two teams were old hands doing this, and have competed before. They had every tool for the task, were extremely focused, and very fast. They both completed their boats in less than 1 1/2 hours.

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The next block of teams were just average “joes”, sometimes couples, sometimes just friends, all interested in having fun doing something different.

The last trio of teams were kids. One team, Webelos scouts, one team, Girl Scouts, one team of a youth organization in the area. These teams were the highlight of our day. My hat is off to the adults who are investing in these kids. In all 3 cases, the adults allowed the kids to do all the work but assisting and encouraging the whole time. We agreed, these won’t be the kids who will be shooting up the schools, getting in trouble with drugs, or worse. These will be the kids who are producers in the workplace; kids who will invest in their next generation. All day, these kids gave it their all. The tasks before them was clear, and the teamwork was not optional, it was essential.

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As I reflect on this day, I have figured out why it was so special and fun. Of course, spending the day with my bride of 40 years was primary, but what stirred my heartstrings was the reflection back on my childhood. I had the privilege of a mom and dad that loved the outdoors. Some of my earliest memories are those of camping out and water skiing. I camped not only with family, but also with the Boy Scouts, Troop 41 in Haynesville, Louisiana. All those memories came alive today as I watched these kids and adults interact. Camporees, Jamborees, Camp Yatasi, and a 1,000 more like-events surfaced. I often found my chin quivering as I saw a 10-year old boy run screws into the side of the boat; as a young dad directed on the proper application of the adhesive that would hold the boat together and keep it dry for the “in-water” rowing competition later in the day, and as a grandfather (figure or maybe to one of them) directed the 3 young ladies to work together to pick up the sides and hold them properly to form the shape of a real boat. What a day.

As they competed in the water late Saturday afternoon, these teams got to enjoy the fruit of their labor. Some boats (and people) performed with excellence, some performed providing LOTS of humor for those of us who watched from the dock. Some boats were bone dry inside at the end of the competition. Some were VERY wet shortly after they were launched. And as a side note, you who have known me for a long time, you know how competitive I’ve always been, whether sports or business. I have never believed in the “Everybody gets a trophy” concept. But today, I saw everybody win. There were no prizes or trophies. Just winners with the satisfaction of a job well done.

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Beaufort, NC was good to us.

Our travels carried us to Beaufort (pronounced Bo-fort, as compared to the South Carolina city pronounced Bew-fort), North Carolina. We traversed the ICW across Camp LeJuene.

We decided it would be a good day to stay at a marina. For those of you who are seasoned equally to me, as a rookie captain, just know you can survive running aground. Coming into the channel today, I ran the Honey Queen onto a sandbar not once, not twice, but 3 times, as we neared the marina. Though I have run aground prior to today, the entry into the channel was quite tricky and poorly marked. I laughed at myself, as there was nothing else to do, other than praying reverse would do as before and deliver me from this dry land concealed by a thin layer of water.

The Town Creek Marina is small and cozy. The rate is very reasonable, so we’re thinking we may stick around town another day. We hear it’s a cool town to visit. And there’s a wood boat show on Saturday, so we’ll play tourist and see what comes next.