baby drive south............from P

We were determined to make progress yesterday, even in the fog. We took turns on "lookout" duty - sitting on the bow with a walkie-talkie, peering into the fog looking for channel markers. This would have been really stupid, except for that dependable magenta line showing us the way on the GPS screen. We were blessed with perfect weather on our northern trip, but as all dynamic systems eventually return to the mean, we are now paying the price. I can only remember one day since Nov 3rd when we could sail in the sunshine, and no days without a jacket or full raingear. So for now we are stubbornly pushing our way south, even if it is only 20 miles in a day, down the ditch, in nasty weather.

These conditions do bring their own forms of entertainment. Our more frequent marina stops have allowed us to meet some great and interesting people. We now recognize about a dozen boats that we regularly see, and have met five or six of the fellow travelers. We have benefited greatly from their advice - especially Chuck and Ali aboard their well equipped Island Packet 38. We enjoyed a great dinner and boat-talk with them in Beaufort, and got to watch the election returns aboard their gorgeous boat back in Great Bridge (where we were all socked in by the northeaster). Yesterday I was entertained by another fellow souther from Massachusetts, even if it was in a different way. We saw him pull out of a marina ahead of us in a Catalina 42 in the fog - I thought "great, I can just follow his mast to the next mark" - but that was just about the time I saw his boat tilt violently forward, saw him try to spin it around, heard the engine gunning, saw it spewing black smoke, and to top it off I saw a crabpot float following his stern around! Aground! Well, it happens to the best of us. He pushed off the mud and continued ahead. Not sure what happened to the crabpot. A little later I noticed he was zigging and zagging almost to the muddy shoals across the channel, then he took a green channel marker to starboard (wrong side). I said to K - "watch this guy and don't get too close, by the way I have named him 'Wrong-Way'." As we approached one of the many turn bridges, several boats were in a bunch waiting for the opening. As it turned open, Wrong Way started hard toward the shore side of the opening. All I could see over there were rocks leading down to the water and a guy standing on the rocks with a fishing pole. I started moving toward the channel through the correct side of the bridge opening - figuring that he must know it is OK to pass simultaneously on the other side of the turn bridge - suddenly I heard the bridge operator screaming over the radio "Sailboat going on the wrong side of the bridge - you are going to find serious trouble over there !!! Stop!! Stop!!" I slammed Senara into reverse, the boat behind me slammed into reverse, and finally - Wrong Way was able to back out of his pending disaster and swing to port, squeezing between my bow and the bridge, just in time to make it into the channel. Five miles later at the next turn bridge, I eased up near Wrong Way's stern. Good naturedly he hollered "I will try to pick the right side of the bridge this time! Last time I went the Wrong Way!" As I said, even these conditions can bring entertainment.

We are planning a real sail from Cape Fear to Little River Inlet tomorrow. It is supposed to be sunny and breazy. I can't wait. But for today, as my favorite musician John Hiatt sings...... baby drive south!

The fog thinned enough to see this tropical mansion. We know there is sunshine somewhere south!

You know your entertainment options are limited when you start playing with the lables from your mechanical equipment.