Our Lucky Day

Beaufort to Thunderbolt  |  6.3 Hours  |  41 Miles  

Barry was born on Friday, July 13, and for that reason, has never given much credence to the Friday the Thirteenth hoopla. As soon as we had enough daylight, he fired up the engine, I brought the docklines onboard, and he backed us off the dock. Another hour passed before the sun climbed above the heavy cloud bank. When we passed the Marine Corps Recruit Depot, Parris Island, the sunlight was reflecting off the water tower emblazoned with "We Make Marines." The flag also got our attention as it was flying taut. We knew we were going to feel the full effect of that wind when we rounded the point and entered Port Royal Sound. 

As anticipated, Port Royal Sound was a little pitchy with the wind and current opposing each other. For the first time since we left Deltaville, we were consistently taking spray on the windshield. The wipers received a workout until we reached the entrance to Skull Creek. Beyond that point our attention shifted to identifying the aids to navigation. From a distance we could not tell if the marker was a white danger marker or a green channel marker. As we passed alongside we could see that the cormorant painting crew was continuing to white-wash the Green. Mystery solved, we turned our attention to Hilton Head and the friends who reside on the island. We spotted Marie's house and were on the phone with Chris as we passed under the James Byrnes/Route 278 Bridge. He was out for a walk and tried to catch us as we passed the entrance to Windmill Harbour. We missed seeing him by a few hundred yards, but he and Barry had a good chat. Then, as if his ears were burning, Pete texted Barry and they chatted for half an hour as I took the helm a guided us toward Haig Point. We are lucky that our world gets smaller each year. With Barry back on the wheel, I stepped into the cockpit and prepared to get a few pictures of the Haig Point Lighthouse. The sea gulls following us, however, grabbed my attention. They must have thought we were a fishing boat. As we neared the lighthouse, the passenger ferry to Daufuskie Island crossed my view with "perfect" timing. Had my luck run out?

No worries though. I caught a barely shot after the ferry passed. To starboard, Savannah's Talmadge Memorial Bridge came into view. We wound our way around and through the low country for another hour until we entered Fields Cut. In this short passage we passed the halfway point on our trip from Deltaville to Key Biscayne. The cut also allowed us to time our crossing of the Savannah River between passing cargo ships and tankers -- Frogger style. We slowed to allow Mantas to pass before we exited the cut and crossed into Georgia. A short distance down the Wilmington River, we came to the Causton Bluff Double Bascule Bridge and celebrated the fact that the new high-rise bridge had been completed since our last visit here. The draw bridge spans and now permanently in the open position and we passed right through.  

I went out on the breezy deck to string up the docklines and prepare the fenders. The wind was whipping. We called it a shorter than normal day. Luckily the trees blocked some of the wind and we eased onto the floating dock at Thunderbolt Marina. Our early arrival gave Barry the opportunity to walk to the hardware store in search of the final fitting needed to install the new accumulator tank. He struck out there, but luckily was able to use the marina's courtesy car to run to Home Depot and get what he needed. Back onboard he descended under the floor, but over the hot water heater, to complete installation. 

While Barry was parts shopping, I finished my first book of the 2023 trip. It took me longer than anticipated because I kept getting sidetracked by the referenced material. I read sourced articles and listened to a fascinating two-hour interview with legendary reporter Mary Garber. I'm lucky to have known of the Winston-Salem Journal sports reporter since I was a kid. I then quickly finished my second book. Tomorrow, I'll pull out number three and get started. Knock on wood.