May 20, 2017
Miles Today: 26.5 NM
Total Miles: 595.4 NM
Since our engine was out of commission the 11
days we were in Georgetown, we couldn’t get to the pump-out. Luckily, there is a pump-out boat. We texted
Capt Mary on “Nature’s Call” twice while in Georgetown. Discussing where we were headed next – the
week before the Memorial Day weekend – she suggested a smaller, quiet marina
about 26 miles north named Bucksport Plantation Marina. It would an easy 4-hour day and a peaceful one-night
stop on our way to Southport, NC.
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| Off goes Capt. Mary on the pump-out boat, Nature's Call |
With a little bit of anxiety that the engine
would function fine, we pulled away from Georgetown Landing Marina and headed
up the Waccamaw River. Originally,
Michael, our engine expert, thought we would need to “pull over” every 30
minutes for the first few hours to ensure that he had repaired the issue that
caused the fuel getting into the engine oil.
Pulling over on a narrow river can be a challenge at times, so we were
not looking forward to that. By the time
all the repairs had been completed, Michael was sure the engine was in
perfect shape and stopping every little while was no longer necessary. He was correct…the engine purred. Jim went down to the engine room several
times to check the fluids, gauges and listen to the engine. Soon we relaxed and enjoyed the very beautiful
Waccamaw River.
The
Waccamaw has been listed as one of the 10 prettiest rivers in the US. It sure was on our morning glide up to
Bucksport. The sun was shining, it was
warm but not too hot, there was little boat traffic….and we were back on the
water - actually moving!
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| The beautiful Waccamaw River |
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| We had the river to ourselves this morning |
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| This beautiful boat went aground or had a run in with the recent hurricane |
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| ICW markers make the best homes |
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| Cypress trees cause the water to have a brown tea color from the chemical tannin they contain. Soon we'll have to wash off the brown mustache on Bazinga! |
According
to our chart plotter, Bucksport was about a mile more up the river. What was that sound? Bazinga was purring along (thank you, God)
but we could feel and definitely hear a pounding of some kind. As we eased around a curve, there was
Bucksport Marina – awash in sound and people! Drums, guitars, banjos, bass, keyboard and two hundred people on the outside deck
dancing, singing and drinking! Most of the them had arrived by boat – the few
wooden docks at this small-marina-in-the-woods were packed full of small
runabouts.
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| Didn't have a chance to take a picture of the actual band and crowds lining the docks, but you can get the idea if you add another 100 people to this picture! |
AND the river was full of runabouts – at least 40 of them - either waiting to pull in or just floating and listening to the jam session. We had made reservations and not a word was said about the hootenanny they were holding. We called on the radio to find out where they wanted us to dock (finding a place big enough seemed to require a miracle), but the answer was we’d have to wait ‘because we are really slammed right now.’ Ya think?!!
Jim did an outstanding job weaving among the
tiny boats and holding Bazinga
just off the docks while we waited for instructions. Little boats dodged in front, behind and on
the sides of us. Our 37 footer was surrounded by 10-20 footers all going in
different directions.
One of the owners finally came out on a dock
hailing us on his VHF radio. We could
hear him but couldn’t see him in the crowds!
Finally he waved from the end of a dock that couldn’t possibly fit us, and
encouraged us to come in and squeeze between several smaller boats. Gotta give Jim credit – he gave it a
try. But the current was pushing us away
and boats were all around us – it was impossible to maneuver. We heard another large boat tell the marina
that they had decided to move on down the river – that sounded like a great
idea! We narrowly missed grazing a small
speedboat as we pulled away from the docks.
They were partying and drinking and looked way up with dazed expressions
as we slid by with a couple of inches to spare.
“Man, where did you come from??!”
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| Multiply this number of boats by 5 and you get the idea of the congestion challenge. We headed away from the docks right past that red marker and thru the labyrinth of boats! |
Out came the anchorage books and luckily there
was a recommended spot about 2 miles up river.
We turned into Clark Creek - a bend in the river, behind a tiny island,
with only a small fishing boat as a neighbor.
We dropped anchor and plopped down on the settee to catch our breath! That
was intense! Get out the wine! (I think
Jim actually broke out the whiskey!)
The bend in the river proved to be a beautiful spot. The fishing boat moved off. Since it was very hot and humid, we could run
the generator that runs the air conditioner without bothering anyone with the
constant putt-putt of our gen. We did
experience wakes from some of the fast boats running up and down the river, but
by sunset the river was quiet and the water like glass.
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| Clark Creek Anchorage |
As the afternoon moved toward dusk and the tide
rose, we noticed a very large log floating in the water. It would move away and then start back toward
us. After an hour or two, we realized it
wasn’t heading out of our little hidey-hole.
There was every chance that during the night it would hit us and rub
some damage on our hull. Jim decided to
be proactive and ‘catch’ the log and tie it to the boat somehow before it got
seriously dark.
The next two hours were pretty entertaining. With boat poles and lassos we got the log
close to the boat. The trick would be to
keep it floating a distance from the boat and not have it float away. As we got a good look at this log, we
realized it was very large and home to many spiders. YUK! It would also be a perfect ramp for any snakes
that wanted to check out our boat. Get
it away from the boat now - puleeeeze!!
In the
end, Jim contorted in all different ways to use ropes, boat poles, and feet to
position the log, affectionately named ‘Wilson’ by now, 10 feet off the swim
step. (I sprayed some of the lines with bug spray for safe measure.)
We were sweaty and tired but we had successfully
commandeered a ‘dead head’! We had the
power!
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| "Wilson" stalking our boat |
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| Let's get control of the enemy |
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| Get it away from the boat - that thing has spiders!! |
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| This won't do. Head further astern! |
After a quick shower, we enjoyed dinner in our
little cove. The night sounds were
intense as was the absolute darkness. The stars were brilliant and a million frogs belted
out their joy. Couldn’t get much better
than this.
Is that a light in the bushes on that nearby
little island?? Sure enough a very flat
boat, with 2 guys and 2 gals had stealthily come into our cove and were shining
flashlights into the trees and bushes. They
never uttered a word. We couldn’t make
out what they were doing. Soon there was
another small boat across the river doing the same thing. We were never sure what they were seeking – frogs,
bait for fishing, hidden treasure?? We
asked some locals in the days after and everyone was mystified.
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