Sunrise, sunset, it all blurs together after a couple of days

Four hundred miles to Savannah, our longest run yet, just the two of us! We left Tuesday morning, motoring out of Man o’ War Cay, and set sail for the US. The first two days were pretty uneventful, with the exception of the thunderstorms that formed around us every evening. Nothing ever hit us, but it was always unnerving to watch the sheet lightning passing back and forth between the clouds, followed by a bolt down to the water every once in a while.

The Gulf Stream definitely helped us zip along, but unfortunately at some point the winds shifted from the southeast/southwest to the west and then the stream wasn’t much help as we motorsailed and bashed into it. The engine stopped just outside Wassaw Sound, one of the entrances to Savannah. The good news is that we had been anticipating this might happen, and had the jerry jugs ready to dump the spare 10 gallons of diesel in. Close to shore, the seas had calmed so Trip was able to get the diesel fuel in with little problem. Despite the engine being a self-bleeder (to get the air out), Trip had to help it along and bleed it before it would fire back up smoothly.

Skidaway River

Master mixologist Karen at work while Lyle looks on

The passage up the Wilmington & the Skidaway rivers was the longest, partly because of how tired we were and partly because of the tide being against us. We called the Isle of Hope Marina where we had reservations and they said they closed at 5:30 (when we were due to arrive), but they’d keep someone around to wait for us. I anxiously watched our speed and was happy to report we got there at 5:35. The dockhands got us secured to the dock (sweet spot on the fuel dock facing out the way we’d leave since it’s now low season and most transients have passed through). Customs came out to clear us back into the US and we were officially and legally back in native lands.

Low country boil birthday party

Friends Clark and Karen came to collect us for dinner. We hadn’t had Mexican food in months and that was their usual Friday night fare, so off we went. These two were the perfect welcoming committee, as they’re former boat owners themselves. They were kind enough to let me do piles of laundry, including our pillows which were getting a bit grungy from our greasy salty heads hitting them one too many times. And I cannot tell you how strange it was to sleep in a regular bed on land!

Ice cream!!!

The next day we headed to more friends Lyle (crew from our offshore run) and Christine and Christine’s mother, Karen. It was Lyle’s birthday and he decided to celebrate with a low country boil. Shrimp season had just started and it was the best way to celebrate being in the south as well as a birthday!

Baby peacocks & mom at Clark & Karen’s

We ran a bunch of errands the next day, stocking up on liquor, food, hand held anemometer (measures wind speed since the one on our mast doesn’t currently work), and another diesel jerry can. We had already topped off water and fuel at the marina, and were a bit alarmed to realize we had gone through all but 3 gallons of fuel motoring in against the tide for so many hours. Another 5 gallons would always be a good insurance policy and the new jerry can fit on deck nicely with the other two.