October 13, 2012 by Last Star blog
Leaving Little Creek
Ok, so after a few wonderful days of being in the same cit as my BFF we had to leave. *sigh* Yes, the weather had been awful and we had some technical difficulties when Hank broke some silly nut, I keep telling him maintenance on an old girl at a certain age is, well asking for complications, particularly when dealing with venting, nuts and o-rings. Just saying.
We woke before dawn and just as the last few days in Satan’s Seaside Shanty, it was spitting rain and gray. A very English departure. We were flawless in our departure from the dock. Unlike the night before when we left the dock for gas, and just as we dropped our lines, Cooper leaps for the dock! ARGH. Good thing we were coming back! So, this morning before we left I locked his little jail breaking furry butt up. The day began with a few hours of standing in the stairs on “crab pot buoy spotting detail,” (a daily full time job here) bundled up in my rain gear with my tervis full of mocha coffee. I am so reminded of our years in England. Cold, wet, and still happy. Weird, yes, but all those from the ‘Heath will understand.
(this carrier is under construction, wonder who is responsible for this money pit?)
As you can see, it was various shades of gray-less than 50, trust me. the whole day was about meeting bridge openings at certain times ( a WSO’s job-and he performed to perfection). The first one was at the 4 hour mark. We are now basically on I-95 all over again, bumper to bumper with no brakes-Yikes-and some very twitchy yacht owners. The first bridge we went UNDER had the metal grates and the those totally freaked Mini out. As Hank described it, she was out of a sci-fi movie: liquid black sliding down the wall, seat, cockpit to pool at this feet and manifest itself once more as a cat. The entire day she alternated between liquid black or trembling mass in my arms. Ok: Mini+Bridges=disaster,GOT IT!
The morning was an exercise in jockeying for position in line, holding your boat very still, and not screaming at your spouse! We were about 6-8 boats, half sail and half motor (large, very large motor boats.) there were lots of vocal directives with debatable sarcastic responses from the sailboat couples, hmn? And they say money can’t buy happiness. When we got to the locks we were parceled out: port, starboard, port, starboard. We watched as a fellow longhorn ran right up o n another sailboat: very loud voices, some guffaws from the lock workers, some bellowing from the captains to their crew (husbands to wives.) We were well chuffed with our quiet perfect line handling pulling up behind the Lady Victoria. Now as locks work, you pull up, tie off, they close it behind you and it fills up. Everyone gets a bit chatty… is that a UT cap? What year? Us too! ..you get the idea. Well, I was wearing my cap, what can I say? We also got to see the hot little owner’s girlfriend on the lady Victoria-that huge yacht in front of us. I feel lucky Hank managed to hang onto his line, sort-a-speak. You know you’re in trouble when the answer to every questions is: “huh?” I don’t blame him. She was hot and barely clad. They did have that mansion on the water, I bet SHE has heating, rain protection, a spa and a gym on that thing! Who says money can’t buy love? (mmeow)
A few more bridges, 11 and a half hours later, a few more puddle-cat manifestations and we stopped at Coinjock for the night. It was a quaint little marina with no docks per say-just the bulk head. We had no sooner tied up than Cooper was out and gone, with Mini in tow. Yes, she left the boat. I know, I was shocked too. The marina backs up onto a forest/marsh. I was a nervous mom, yes, I was THAT mom. I went with them while Hank made dinner. We played a little hide-n-go seek and chase. I had to rescue Cooper from an eight year old devil spawn. DS: “He’s so cute, can we keep him?” DS’ Mom: “No, honey, he has a collar.” DS: “So?” That is about the time I stood from my hiding spot (ok, Cooper always wins) DS’ Mom: “OH, is this your cat?” Me: “Why yes.” Said with thoughts of Hansel and Gretel dancing in my head.
It was a long day. Sleep came quietly until around 3:30 am. Scratch, scratch, bang echoing through the hull into our berth. Hank is up like a bolt, flashlight in hand, head sticking out our hatch, “what the hell?” Me: “Did someone board us?” “No, must be a raccoon.” We plop back down. Scratch, scratch, scratch. Hank: “WTF, is that a crab humping our keel?” I fell back asleep laughing. It’s never a dull moment.Just another great sight in the ICW.