Sleeping in a boat that is anchored in a strong current can be, quite literally, an eye opening experience. First, there is the constant gurgle as the current rushes past the boat. Don't get obnoxious, Chuckie, the bow is not always pointed into the current. Take our case last night. The wind was very strong from the NW, while the direction of the current was from the NE. In short, the wind on the stern kept the bow of the boat from lining up with the current. Result; a boat lying sideways in the current; much noisier than usual. Next there is the groaning and clunking as the anchor & chain take the strain. Occasionally, as in last night's adventure there is the BANG as the bridle disconnects and the chain pops straight against the stops. Those stories of how the water gurgling & the boat rocking help put you to sleep are somewhat suspect in my book. Oh, did I 
mention how dark it is in some of these places; Dark, man reaallly dark. Particularly if you are trying to see if your boat has moved.
mention how dark it is in some of these places; Dark, man reaallly dark. Particularly if you are trying to see if your boat has moved.Despite all the adventure of the night, we were up & in McClellanville early in the am. What was to be a short walk thru turned into a wander thru a neat little town that some of time has skipped by. Not much too it really, couple of seafood com
panies selling shrimp & assorted fish, a seafood restaurants, a bunch of shrimp boats, and a number of art studios. Lots of neat old buildings, lots of colorful plantings, none of them manicured, or trimmed to Longwood Garden standards; just relaxed & pretty. Nice place to visit again, we'll be back someday.
panies selling shrimp & assorted fish, a seafood restaurants, a bunch of shrimp boats, and a number of art studios. Lots of neat old buildings, lots of colorful plantings, none of them manicured, or trimmed to Longwood Garden standards; just relaxed & pretty. Nice place to visit again, we'll be back someday.Pressing on from there we headed up the ICW, past the North & South Santee rivers, thru Winyah Bay, past Georgetown, and up the Waccamaw River. That, in turn, led us by Cowhouse Creek, Wacca Wache Marina, and finally, to Bu
ll Creek. Deep, fast moving, it is more like a small river than a creek; matter of definition, I guess. I'm only sorry I can't put any audio into the blog; that technology is well past my pay grade. As the afternoon sunlight faded and the evening started sliding into night, the bird songs became almost rowdy; a raucous symphony of song, each one trying to outdo the other. Or, perhaps, just their way of celebrating the end of another day of survival, or joy, who knows for sure.
ll Creek. Deep, fast moving, it is more like a small river than a creek; matter of definition, I guess. I'm only sorry I can't put any audio into the blog; that technology is well past my pay grade. As the afternoon sunlight faded and the evening started sliding into night, the bird songs became almost rowdy; a raucous symphony of song, each one trying to outdo the other. Or, perhaps, just their way of celebrating the end of another day of survival, or joy, who knows for sure. In our case, we had a beer, some shrimp and salad, some pineapple upside down cake, and called it a night. A gurgle by the bow, an owl call from the woods, and a cool breeze thru the hatch. I guess that would be enough to sing about, Be safe. Catch you later.
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