Russell from Indigo II, who weathered the storm right beside us, helped untie our lines the next morning and off we went. With predictions of 3 to 5 foot seas we decided to take the calmer scenic route to Cape Lookout Bight as La Buono Vida throttled up his new engine and left us in the dust. We had a comfortable ride and I was happy that, when it did rain again, the bimini top was now patched up and the annoying drips on my head would be no more. Heading passed Shakleford Island we saw Susan and Robert in the distance scoping out the anchorage and idled up to the area. With both boats secure, we lowered the dinghy and I tied my float to the back as the Captain pulled me to shore…my feet splashing in the water.
The four of us took a scenic tour of the Cape Lookout National Seashore on Baby Belle stopping at the southern-most barrier island, Shackleford Banks, to see the wild horses grazing. We were able to get up close and personal and I was relieved that these wild stallions were much more fit and clean than the ones we had visited earlier in the trip. Taking Baby Belle over to the lighthouse, we beached her and climbed up the sand dunes to get a better view of the structure standing 163 feet tall in the air. The rest of the afternoon was equally as relaxing as we collected sea shells along the shore and floated around in the pristine waters. Susan and Robert had us aboard for a few drinks to watch the sunset and we promised to keep in touch as we continued North and they ventured South toward their home in the Florida Keys. I had defrosted some yellow tail which Rhonda had given us from their catch in the Bahamas and we enjoyed the fish reminiscing over our failed fishing ventures but how we had so much fun trying to hook the big one…well most of the time. I was still a little jaded about losing the king mackerel on my birthday.
Pulling anchor just after sunrise, we waved farewell to Robert and Susan…and the horses. Sticking our nose out the inlet, we took a deep breath and went all in. This would be our first time in open ocean water since the Bahamas. The trip was bumpy but definitely bearable as I threw out the rod hoping to break our streak…to no avail. Circling back through Beaufort, we took the Newport River up to Core Creek which eventually lead us to the Neuse River and our destination on Smith Creek–Blackwell Point Marina. Located in Oriental, the sailing capital of North Carolina, this was a family run marina nestled on a quaint no frills dock. The family dog, Jack, hurried down to the boat with a very friendly welcome. My cousin Matt was driving from Raleigh for a quick visit with his son Adam so I cleaned up Duane’s trail of laundry and sat outside enjoying the breeze. While Matt and I caught up, Adam fished off the dock with Jack right by his side and I hoped he had better luck than I was having. We must not have the fishing vibe as he came up empty as well. Walking over to Toucan Grill and Fresh Bar, Matt generously treated us to a delicious dinner as Duane told his most entertaining stories from the past year on the water….almost all of which poked fun at me. It was great to see both of them as the virus had ruined most of our plans for friends and family to come visit as we made our way up the coast toward home. Fellow Loopers had also hurried home once the virus became so widespread so we were faced with traveling the remainder of our trip on our own. I guess it will be docktails for two going forward.
Waving goodbye to Jack, we shoved off and it was a super calm morning on the river. A few miles beyond Goose Creek we spotted our destination –RE Mayo Seafood–where we were filling up as well as seeing what fresh catch they had available. As we approached we were glad that it was early in the day and we did not have to spend the night here as some Loopers had been forced to do when it was too dark to move on. The docks were dilapidated and most of the pilings were snapped in half or at such a precarious angle that we would definitely damage the boat trying to secure ourselves for a long period of time. The Captain found a stretch he was happy with for our short stay and I tried to get the line over the cracked wood and secure us without poking my eye out. A boy came to help with the stern lines and we soon learned he worked the fuel pumps as he was only 14 years old and too young to go out on the fishing boats. Dressed in dirty jeans and shirtless, he was chewing tobacco and grabbed for one of the hoses as I yelled we needed gas… He stopped, changed his mind and then grabbed for the other hose. He still did not look convinced that he had chosen correctly and proceeded to taste the liquid just to make sure before he smiled and handed over the nozzle. Not sure that was the safest way to determine what was going into the tank, Duane filled up one of the gas containers first and made his own determination. Once the boat was full, we ventured inside the office to pay careful to avoid the missing boards on the dock and stepping around the fish guts in my flip flops. Taking us into the “ice chest” the stench of fish was overwhelming and we picked out some fresh trout, shrimp, scallops and deviled crab. Back on the boat, we shoved off on our way to the Pamlico River with thunder and lightning on the horizon. We were hoping the storm did not materialize into anything substantial before we arrived in Belhaven, but it was not a good omen when the temperature dropped significantly over the next hour as the wind picked up and there was now a light chop on the water.
Turning off the Pungo River into the Belhaven Town Marina breakwater, we headed for the east bulkhead to tie up. The dock master was super friendly and was one of the marina owners. He took especially good care of the facilities and the grounds making this one of our favorite stops thus far up the East coast. Isaias had caused some extensive damage on the waterfront lifting some of the docks from the pilings and they were constantly working on repairs the whole time we were there. Two full blocks of stores and restaurants were closed due to flooding from the storm and surge. That is significant considering the town was only four blocks wide. We headed to one of the only open restaurants, Georgie’s Sport and Oyster Bar, along with practically the entire town, for some dinner. The place had a quaint upscale diner vibe and we scored two stools at the counter. The seafood was absolutely incredible and the people watching even better. We had the pleasure of meeting a 95 year old woman coming to pick up an order who everyone referred to as the “Cookie Lady.” She told us tales of the small town and her life here which gave us a new prospective on southern living. After our meal, we took a stroll around to see some of the homes and ended back at the marina just before sunset. The marina office doubled as a bar so we purchased a bottle of wine and sat on the deck overlooking the river enjoying the evening. Duane had some projects to complete on the boat in the morning so we decided to stay another day and take advantage of the amenities. I threw in some laundry (free), took a long hot shower (immaculate) and then sat in the sun on the deck reading (peaceful) keeping out of his way once the tools were scattered all around the salon. I felt hives coming on every time he had a “small” project and proceeded to tear apart our living space which I had just meticulously straighten up. The day was winding down once all our chores were finished so we started an impromptu Happy Hour at the marina bar before heading to a local recommendation–Fish Hook Cafe —for another delicious meal. We wonder why we have each gained about ten pounds since we set out on our journey.
Lingering around most of the morning appreciating our last moments at the marina, Gregg and Brad helped us shove off around noon and we were soon sweating under the stifling summer sun. The air was stagnant as we snaked our way from the Pungo River to the Alligator River and onto Winn Bay. The bay was littered with crab pots so we took care to weave in and out of the obstructions while fanning each other and spraying cold water on our faces. We were planning to stop at Sandy Point that evening but first had to wait for the Alligator River Bridge opening and ended up anchoring well after sunset. At that point, we were being bombarded by crazy little black bugs and quickly retreated into the boat and sealed everything up tight. Every fan was running and I took a cold shower not only to cool down, but to get the bugs out of my hair. I threw together a meal with some of the fresh shrimp and trout and we settled in for the evening. It was actually a very comfortable night and we both slept soundly to the slight slap of the water against the hull.
Waking up to an amazing sunrise, I was shocked the little bugs were still milling around. The Captain was slightly amused that I dressed covered from head to toe with my goggles on to go crank up the anchor. I was elated that we were heading to the Outer Banks today. I had become resolved to the fact that Isaias had ruined my plans to make it there once we had moved further north to try and escape its path, but we were now an easy ride to Manteo on the north end of the banks. With no storms in the forecast and the waters predicted to be calm the next few days, the Captain said it was a go…and off we went on another adventure.
