And we left in a hurry because we were trying to make the "swing bridge" six miles to the north that only opens every thirty minutes. As we came around the corner at 7:30 the bridge was swinging open for the boats collected there and we fell in line. Whew. We were on our way to Oriental and had a big day in front of us -- 63 miles.
About an hour later we were flying to the East, into the morning sun dancing on the water, when we heard a "thunk" hit the hull and we turned to look in the wake and saw a white float from a crab trap exit the rear of the boat. Its white color had blended into the morning sun making it invisible. Fortunately it passed between the propellers doing no harm to our sensitive running gear.
We had fallen into traveling with a 50-foot French express cruiser named "Crash." As we idled through the fishing boats in the channel at Morehead City I turned right toward the next green buoy. In a few seconds the radio crackled and Crash said, "Where are you going Invictus?" I turned around and saw he had correctly turned to the north and I was headed out to sea. I admitted my mistake and turned to follow him. The only thing hurt was my pride and 5 minutes of backtracking.
At noon we started our crossing of the Neuse River to reach Oriental. The wind was strong out of the Northeast and the river was chopped up. We slowed down to reduce the spray and motion. After all, we were going to reach Oriental by 1:00 p.m., so what was the rush? We pulled into the cute little town and snuggled into our berth on the town's Main Street.
We had a delightful day in "The sailing capital of North Carolina." The Marina was spotless and service impeccable. The Chief Morale Officer was so comfortable here that she would jump off of the boat at will to chase squirrels in the trees of the Marina and the then return when she was convinced that she couldn't catch them. I wondered if that was an allegory for my trip and then decided I needed another drink to ponder it.
We took a slow start on Monday morning so that Linda could run a few miles and I could do some boat maintenance chores. When we left at 9:15 we couldn't believe our eyes as we put our bow back into the Neuse River. It was glassy calm -- unrecognizable from the day before. We enjoyed the best day of the trip as we glided toward Belhaven, 45 miles away.
We arrived at 1:30 and just as we were tying up in the marina a big breeze started building from the Southeast. Our comfortable spot became a boiling teakettle and Eddie the dockhand said, "Did you do something to make the boss man mad?" He smiled and said, "If you can handle this boat in the wind, I'll help you get off of the dock and into a better slip." Linda did her thing -- handling the lines like a champ -- and I used Invictus's powerful engines to power us into a calmer spot in the Marina.
Belhaven is a beautiful, authentic small town. There are more cemeteries than inhabitants. The population hasn't grown in 100 years. The reason is: every time a woman gets pregnant, a man leaves town. If you don't get this, call me.
We drove the Marina's golf cart down a state highway for a couple of miles to the Food Lion. I don't think it was legal, but we didn't die. We provisioned the boat for our third week of the voyage. You know, toilet paper and beer and other essential stuff. Linda's blog on this will probably read differently.
For dinner, we walked into town to eat at "Spoon River" where we had the best dinner of the trip. Off the charts. And they liked us, so they gave us dessert and a bottle of champagne to help a new friend celebrate her birthday with her husband on their Sabre 38. We staggered back to Invictus into a cold night wind and snuggled under the blankets while the waves rocked us to sleep.
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I am just loving your blog! You and Linda are such beautiful and entertaining writers! I feel like I'm right there beside you in your adventures! Thank you for keeping this blog and letting us read it!
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