Arriving in Virginia
marked the beginning of our time in «the South» and the signs are
only getting more accentuated as we move deeper South. I don't mean
the USA's geographical south, but rather the Southern States where
there's a very pleasant shift in the way of things. Virginia, the
Carolinas and Georgia are the ones we'll be visiting. In these
parts, the pace of life slows down a few notches and there's just no
rush. Dave says with a smile «This is my pace!» The people
are welcoming, friendly and well mannered.
Momma raised them to mind their 'Ps and Qs' and 'Yes ma'am' and 'No
sir'! Southern hospitality and Southern charm, not to mention the
Southern home cooking, are well known phrases for a reason.
Here
are a few of the top signs that we're in the South:
-Most
obvious, along with the Southern drawl, is people saying « Y'all ».
-Tea
is either iced tea or sweet tea. If I want a cup of tea, I have to
ask for 'hot tea'.
-Gator
ribs are on the menu and you will literally get a plate of alligator
ribs if you order it (which Dave did).
-A
proper breakfast includes grits, something fried, a buttermilk
biscuit or Texas toast, maybe hushpuppies, a hot cake, and custard
for your fruit. You might gain weight just by reading the menu. I
asked a friend from Virginia "How do you eat like this all the
time?!" to which she responded "Oh we don't. Only on the
weekend!"
-Fried
chicken! Southerners are the masters of frying food. My fried fish
and grits breakfast was one for the record book. «Y'all ready to
order?» to which I say: « Darn tootin!»
-People
sitting on their porch is a very common sight. We've actually walked
up porch steps to chat with porch-sitters. Conversations between
neighbours are sometimes shouted from across the street so that no
one has to move from their porch. Note to self: include
porch-sitting time in our daily life when we get back.
-Another
sure sign we're in the South is when a complete stranger calls us
Darlin', Sugar, or Honey. The Canadian grocery store workers do not
address me as Sweet Pea as far as I can recall.
When
it comes to the nature of things on land and sea, our new daily
sightings are:
-Dolphins!
-Pelicans.
-Spanish
moss hanging from the trees.
-The
majestic Live Oak trees.
-Shrimping
boats.
-People
crabbing.
-Severe
shoaling on the ICW. When a heron stands next to a channel marker
with water to its knees, you know it ain't deep!
Beaufort, NC
Once
arrived in Beaufort, North Carolina, we anchored on Taylor Creek.
Space for anchoring is limited here due to the many mooring balls but
we found a spot. There are a number of derelict boats on moorings
but I'm not sure what, if anything, the city can do about this.
Charleston has the same problem though they're working to clean up
their harbour. These boats are real eyesores plus they take up
valuable space, but on the other side of the coin, they sometimes are
lived on by people who would otherwise be homeless. Oftentimes they
end up sinking during storms which causes hazards to navigation and
ruins anchoring prospects.
There
was rain in the forecast for late afternoon, and it was late
afternoon, but we judged that we had the time if we hurried, to
dinghy to Carrot Island for a quick exploration of the Rachel Carson
Reserve and perhaps see some of the resident wild horses. The map I
looked at online showed a line marked "boardwalk" but once
we arrived, we could see that the boardwalk is just wherever there
are no trees. All is very clean and pristine here - as nature should
be. What helps this place remain so natural is the fact that the
only access is by boat, so it doesn't see too much traffic.
It was evident that the
horses were around: we saw hoof
prints in the mud and piles of manure all over the
"boardwalk". I guess they weren't expecting company! We
even heard a whinny from the bushes but they remained elusive; we
couldn't spot them.
We walked along the
beautiful beach (on my list of favourite things: a beach with no one
on it!) and then we took a shortcut back through a muddy marsh.
That's when they came into sight - a group of horses hanging out by
the water's edge. They weren't too concerned by our presence as long
as we remained at the recommended 'bus-length' distance. They stared
at us for a while and then went back to horsing around.
Distance-wise, my comfort zone is actually smaller than theirs. As I
was hunched behind a bush watching a horse graze, Dave (from much
farther back) motioned to me that more were coming my way. The
thought of startling them made me the nervous Nellie and I nearly
galloped out of there myself.
That night the rain came
down in buckets and the wind howled like a freight train. The sounds
kept us awake for part of the night, plus in that kind of weather we
compulsively feel the need to look out the companionway to keep an
eye on things. Are we dragging? And just as importantly, is anyone nearby us dragging? Around 3am Dave went up on deck to check on our
anchor and bridle buck naked because, as he says, why get your
clothes wet? Quite funny the things that become normal out here.
Our boat stayed well put throughout the blow. At times like these
we're really happy we bought the oversized anchor and chain!
Beaufort got 77mm of
rainfall that night. We awoke to Peli (our Pelican dinghy) nearly
swamped to the gunnels and the wind shredded our US courtesy flag.
One derelict boat dragged from the mooring field past the markers and
ended up in the traffic channel.
The day was sunny and we
spent it visiting the sights of Beaufort. Side fact: the wreck of
Queen Anne's Revenge lies off Beaufort Inlet. We learned all about
it at the museum. If you're nerdy about this like we are, get the details at https://www.qaronline.org/history/shipwreck-discovery
Friends of ours had
recommended a pub they liked but when that didn't work out for us, we
wound up wandering into a restaurant where I had noticed a sign for
"peel and eat shrimp at the bar". Admittedly, once in, we
weren't sure we'd stay but then everything just started looking up:
the bartender was super friendly, there was good $2 beer on special,
the food was great and the music was starting up...
You never really know
where you'll find your spot; where the good times lie next but we
quickly started realizing that this special place was exactly what we
needed that night. Our entertainer for the night was Morris Willis
(with his wife by his side at the sound board ensuring everything
sounded right and generally keeping Morris in check). Morris, who is
is a living legend, was nice enough to come over and share some
fascinating stories with us. Once on stage he did the: "we have
a couple Canadians here with us tonight..." What's cooler than
a shout-out from the band!?
It's hard to put into
words but we really felt like we belonged there. Everyone was so
great. Safe to say we thoroughly enjoyed their company. I've had
tunes from Morris' repertoire stuck in my head ever since that night.
We were there for a good
time, not a long time. We picked up our anchor the following morning
and continued on in the protection of the ICW to avoid strong winds
offshore. We're going to have to get further south quickly if we
want to keep up with summer. These days can be chilly on the water -
especially in the morning and we're finding ourselves bundling up.
But back home the first snowfalls are beginning so, no complaints
here!
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| Dave on the boardwalk of Carrot Island. |
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| They went thataway! |
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| Dave was getting crabby. |
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| The wall of water coming for us! |
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| Bailing out the dinghy. |
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| Our brand new courtesy flag all ripped up. |
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| A 93yr old having a dance with his sweetie. |
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| Morris and I. |
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| You know your table is right on the water when you drop your knife and hear 'bloop'! Oops. |
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| Semi-hibernation state due to 6ºC temperature. |
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| Morning traffic leaving Beaufort. |
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| Night at anchor near Camp Lejeune. |

















on vous suit toujours bon voyage
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