The Window Opened And We Enjoyed The View

Beaufort, NC to Deltaville, VA  |  32.9 Hours  |  244.7 Miles  

The morning began with another early alarm and a quick departure. I was on deck as the sky was turning pink. A lone horse grazed behind Crossroads in the grasses of Carrot Island. There was neither wind nor waves in the anchorage and only a small amount of current. The anchor and chain both came up clean. Wow, what a start to the day. In what seemed to be a geographical oddity, the sun rose behind Beaufort and we motored west into the Atlantic. By the time we reached Shackleford Banks, the sun was up and shining upon another beautiful wild horse. 

For the first time in our cruising career, we had been gifted a weather window around Cape Hatteras. By going offshore we would be home in roughly 30 hours, as opposed to four days slogging through the ICW. Beaufort Inlet was very busy and we found ourselves being passed by fast-moving boats of every size. At one point a string of eight large sport fishers plowed past us on their way to their favorite offshore fishing spots. The cumulative effect of all the wakes was far worse than the tiny waves offered by Mother Nature. We turned and set a waypoint for the tip of Cape Lookout Shoal. The sun was rising higher in the sky, but still produced a blinding glare through the haze and off the water. We tracked about 12 miles from shore to not lose internet service. At that distance, the view of the Cape Lookout Lighthouse was disappointing at best. Our second waypoint was set for Cape Hatteras. We settled in and enjoyed low and long ocean swells, an occasional dolphin, interesting clouds, and a lone duck from the comfort of the pilothouse. It was a little chilly on the water.

Today I learned that the area between Cape Lookout and Cape Hatteras is called Raleigh Bay. A light breeze created gentle ripples on the water. I took a nap in the sun and then did my afternoon watch from the flybridge. With a day this nice, I just had to be outside. Off the coast of Ocracoke, Barry spotted a balloon and we diverted slightly to rescue it. A short time later I saw a large white square bobbing in the water. We approached it and I went to scoop it with the boat hook as usual. I quickly realized that was no balloon ... but a standard bed pillow. We tried twice to pick it up, but could not due to its weight. If I had a gaff, I could have gotten it onboard. It will forever be the one that got away. Boat traffic increased as we neared Cape Hatteras with fishing boats returning to port at the end of the day. The sun was quickly dropping and the cloud cover was increasing. The view of the iconic Cape Hatteras Lighthouse was also disappointing. Distance and haze combined with the tower being surrounded in scaffolding while being renovated made for an ugly photo. It is here, however, to document that we did in fact round Cape Hatteras aboard Crossroads.  

The wind dropped to four knots and the clouds thickened to obscure any view of the sunset. Barry and I went on our alternating watch cycles. Just shy of 3:00am, I was texting Glenda on Paradigm Shift who was two hours in front of us. That sure made the time go by much quicker. The moon finally broke through the clouds just before it set. The bright moonsplash lit up the horizon. Lights from Rodanthe were visible onshore as were the rotating beacons of both the Ocracoke and Bodie Island Lighthouses. Thanks to calm seas, I slept well until 6:00am when I came back on watch as the sun was rising. 

By 7:00 we were up to Rudee Inlet and had a great view of familiar buildings at the southern end of Virginia Beach. It was rush hour for ship traffic with everyone heading to the same point, at the same time. A large cargo ship led the way into the Chesapeake Bay. A tug towing a large disabled freighter was next in line. I finally got a good view of two lighthouses located at Cape Henry within Fort Story military base. The original (brown) structure is the fourth oldest (1792) lighthouse in the country and the first federal construction project authorized by President George Washington after the Revolutionary War. In 1881 the "new" black and white lighthouse was built 350 feet from the original. 

We passed over the northern tunnel of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel. The southern section of bridge ends at the island before descending underwater. We were back in familiar territory and skirted the large ship parking lot off Cape Charles while moving north. Ducks bobbed on the calm water as pelicans skimmed just above the surface. Our "welcome to the Chesapeake" moments came almost concurrently as the crab pots and biting flies soon appeared. We didn't even mind (too much) swatting the flies when the view was so fabulous. 

We crossed over to the western side of the Bay and passed somewhat close to the Wolf Trap Lighthouse. Looking over the mainland the clouds were building. By the time we reached the mouth of the Rappahannock River they had darkened and we could see heavy rain falling in the distance. We checked the weather radar and slowed a bit to allow the cell to dissipate. By the time we made our turn into the Broad Creek Channel, blue sky had returned. Our final mile was the most nerve wracking of the trip as we had to enter shallow Broad Creek at almost dead low tide. The dredge working to dig out a deeper channel was a very pleasant sight, but its work is not complete so we went slow and had no issues returning to our slip at Stingray Point Marina. After getting our dock lines and power cord hooked up, we walked over and retrieved my car from long term storage. Tomorrow we'll begin offloading "stuff." A deep cleaning of everything will take several weeks. Thanks for following along on our 2025 Winter Cruise. This year's trip covered 129 days and 2,750 miles. We're thankful for the opportunity to travel, escape the cold, meet up with friends and family along the way, and explore some of the prettiest places in the world. Lord willing, our next departure date is set for December 30, 2025. 

 

Almost Home ... Beaufort

Mile Hammock to Beaufort  |  6 Hours  |  38.4 Miles  

We had a calm and restful night in the anchorage. Dawn broke with no wind, flat water, and gorgeous reflections. Anchor raising started at 6:00 as the mass exodus began. Our anchor chain was coated in thick black mud, which when washed off, covered our entire foredeck. It took a while to get everything sufficiently hosed off, but I was done before the sun peeked over the clouds. Crossroads was third in line as the flotilla crept toward the morning's first opening of the Onslow Beach bridge at 7:00. Construction continues to replace the antiquated swing bridge with a new bascule bridge. The new span along with construction cranes towered above the lowlands of Camp Lejeune. Right at 7:00 the bridge tender rotated the span and we were on our way. 

Once through the opening and on the other side of the sun, we got a good view of the new bridge. We crept through the Army base looking at signs, egrets, and herons. Radio chatter was constant as boats reordered themselves based on running speed. For the day we passed one boat and were passed by three. Not bad. The trip required a great deal of concentration as we were at low tide and the channel was very narrow -- one boat width in some places. A strong current also played ticks on us, switching from with us to against us as we passed inlets. We ran a constant 1800 rpm, but our speed ranged from 5.0 to 8.9 knots. The morning passed quickly though and soon the bridge to Emerald Isle was in sight and we entered Bogue Sound. We were back in familiar territory, almost home. I watched as well known landmarks passed by on the shore. The Atlantic Beach water tower came into view, then the bridge to Atlantic Beach. Barry and I both commented on how the flags were almost limp. During our visits in January and February the flags are always stiff in a strong wind. We passed under the Atlantic Beach bridge and entered into Morehead City.

Three large ships were at the cargo terminal. Loaded onto one ship was a large catamaran. We ducked around Radio Island and were surprised by the number of people (and dogs) on the beaches. With a turn into Taylor Creek we cruised alongside docks lining Beaufort's Front Street before dropping our anchor for the night.  

We quickly lowered the dinghy and went to shore. The town provides cruisers a nice floating dinghy dock. We enjoyed a late lunch at Clawson's (we never made it there in January) before walking up and down Front Street. Colorful flowers were everywhere. There was comfort in seeing the same red shrimp boat and the historic houses. We were disappointed, however, that the maritime museum was still closed for construction. Historic houses sported a fresh coat of paint and new mulch. Flags flapped along the boardwalk. For a little retail therapy, we each picked up a new Tshirt. For one final taste of Beaufort we enjoyed single scoops of ice cream on a bench along the boardwalk while watching people and boats pass in front of us. Beyond the flowering pots of portulaca and dipladenia, was Crossroads. Beyond Crossroads was an even better treat.

Three of the wild horses on Carrot Island had ventured to the water's edge. We took the dinghy back to the mothership for a front row seat at the horse show. I stayed on the upper deck for at least half an hour watching them graze. Tour boats paraded by at a respectable distance. Two horses stayed at the tree line.  

The female walked along the shore and made for better photos.

Boats continued to go in and out into the early evening. The sun set beyond the full anchorage and we're again thankful for a forecasted calm night. We'll leave at dawn for another overnight run. Our next planned stop will be our home marina in Deltaville.