Brunswick GA to Charleston/Johns Island SC March 22-28, 2015

March 22-28, 2015

Please note that the following update is extremely tardy, but I felt compelled to relate to you the details of our last March week aboard SaSea Sally before returning to Missouri for tax work and miscellaneous other tasks. We're back aboard now (April 24th) and cruising toward Norfolk, VA for an early-May AGLCA convention. See forthcoming updates when they become available.

The radar screen predicted a dreary day as we prepped for our mid-morning departure from Brunswick Landing Marina this Sunday morning, March 22nd...overcast, cool and quite humid with rain in the forecast. Bummer! Not fun conditions for anyone doing anything outdoors...and certainly not fun for boating. We put in a commendable eight hours on the waterway to arrive at G107 for overnight anchoring. (Clay usually has a more elaborate name for our anchorage, but in this case it was just the channel marker G (for green) and 107, sequential numbering along the ICW).

Leftovers made for an easy dinner and clean-up which I did while the guys (guest Joe Weston and captain Clay) watched a March Madness game on tv. I checked in with both Kristen and John who had suffered through a first puppy accident while doing yard work with a tiller. Bet Remi won't go near that tiller again! I think John suffered more than Remi. Thank goodness for puppy insurance; thanks, Tonya Sheppard, for the suggestion! Remi's left paw will mend with the help of stitches, bandaging, a pain-killer, antibiotic and a hefty dose of TLC.

Wow, but that man of mine sure knows how to provide overnight entertainment. I awakened at 1:49 a.m. still anchored at G107 on the ICW with a GPS location of Richmond Hill, GA, to an unknown, never-heard-before noise. Of course, Clay was asleep and oblivious to the whirring noise coming from who-knows-where. With him asleep and no stirring from the front stateroom where Joe currently resided, I knew I was the designated solo sleuth. Punctuating the noise was a periodic double-beep.

Finding nothing, I gently shook Clay for assistance, at which time he suggested, from his horizontal, supine position, to lift the engine room door and listen. Voila! Noise! But I still didn't know what it was nor whether to be alarmed. He seemed unconcerned; Joe was comatose. Clay finally joined in and pointed out the free-wheeling props, the shafts of which were merrily rolling along in the underbelly of SaSea Sally. Not to worry was the final determination from the good captain as he disappeared into the back stateroom. I followed, but laid awake for another 45 minutes at which time I ear-plugged and promptly fell asleep. Thank goodness!

Up at 6 a.m. for my usual and customary stretch routine, my teeth-brushing was interrupted by a high-alert alarm emitting from Clay's cell phone. The app 'Drag Queen' was insistent that we'd moved out of our pre-designated radius (remember, we were anchored); Drag Queen's alarm is much more alarming than the app Clay had used previously. Ah, such a life I'm living.

Easy anchor pull at 9:30 a.m., we were off for the Savannah riverfront under ugly skies, spitting rain and more chilly temps. My efforts to secure a dock space much as we'd had on our previous visit were met with, "Dock closed. The Nina and Pinta are due in this Monday afternoon to occupy said space." But the city garage superintendent, who was responsible for the downtown city boat docks (and reservations), gave an alternative which suited us well at the River Street Market Dock. 

By mid-afternoon, we were secured to the dock in a remarkable current with logs intermittently hitting SaSea's hull with a resounding thud. Joe and I made haste to escape, with Joe's destination the waterside market place (a pavillion of open-air vendors) and my destination a walk in the rain under my protective gortex jacket and hood. We left Clay to explore dining options, having many available to us nearby. Joe made comment of his and Terry having dined at a River Street restaurant some years ago; amazingly, our reservation choice was one and the same with theirs, a dockmaster's recommendation called the Shrimp Factory. We found it to be highly popular and quite satisfying to us and to a host of obvious convention-goers on expense accounts!

Tuesday brought a long travel day of five-plus hours under overcast skies (but no rain) and chilly temps to arrive at Lady's Island just outside Beaufort, SC. Clay's landing was a bit shaky, so I was especially thankful for dockmaster TJ's masterful handling of our lines. It amazes me that one spring line can literally stop a 20-ton boat when done correctly! Good job, TJ...this little lady applauds you! Soon after, TJ donned a different hat and responded to my 'code red' announcement by appearing in his little pump out boat to pump our holding tanks. Antimated with stories of past pump out experiences, TJ entertained us during an otherwise unpleasant task.

Joe had been well-'warned' of the Fillin' Station (restaurant) which made him all the more eager to experience firsthand the evening special of 1.5# crablegs, twice-baked potato, corn on the cob, and sausage (sausage?) for twelve bucks. I begged off to enjoy a bit of R&R at the boat, giving me time to launder a belly load, eat a bit of supper out of the frig, and hit the sack early.

Wednesday was a much-welcomed day in port during which time we tested Joe's two new knees with not only our usual-and-customary morning walk, but also a lengthy walk across the bridge into the beautiful Beaufort downtown. Joe, armed with his camera, was eager to see the sights offered by this appealing little historic downtown.

Back across the bridge after sightseeing, a late lunch and a bit of shop browsing, we returned to Lady's Island Marina in time for me to 'whip up' a yummy pork tenderloin dinner. I was truly glad dinner was cook in and not grill out because swarms of no-see-ums appeared as the winds calmed and the sun set. Wicked little critters they are!

What an enthusiastic send-off we received Thursday morning as we departed Lady's Island Marina! We have had opportunity along our Loop's path to meet and greet amazing folks, none better than right here on Lady's Island. I believe Joe was impressed with this little community just as we have been.

Thursday's sunshine didn't last very long with storms moving in from the southwest. Those storms chased us all the way to Charleston, SC, but we managed to dodge all but a few spritzes during our six hours of cruising time. St. John's Yacht Harbor, a rather remote location on the Stono River, was our choice in marinas because this facility offered daily, weekly and monthly rates; it was our intent to leave SaSea Sally for a three-plus week trek back to Missouri for tax work and miscellaneous other tasks which beckoned. At this location, Charleston was near yet so far away. Joe had the pleasure of experiencing downtown Savannah and Beaufort, but Charleston downtown was not to be.

Friday was spent in preparation for Saturday's departure to Missouri, and we kept busy with numerous tasks demanding our attention. The day was a necessary one to lay groundwork for our absence and for our return...but not particularly an entertaining one for our guest Joe. Thanks, Joe, for being a sport.

As we prep for our Missouri trip, I bid you farewell until our late-April return to the SaSea Sally.