A Bump and an Ouchie

So, while we surmounted to what, for us, was a huge challenge in taking on and being victorious over the Wilkerson Bridge, things can still go wrong.  And sometimes, it is an accumulation of the little things that can make a person weary and tired and scared.

The ICW is a 3,000-mile inland waterway which lays along the Atlantic and Gulf Coasts of the U.S with the official start in Norfolk, but unofficial beginnings are in New England.  It was created to help with both commercial and personal water transportation.  Some of it stretches across natural bodies of water and some of it has been dug new as canals.

The natural bodies of water had to be dredged for boats to navigate safely, thus the nickname given to the system is apt:  The Ditch.

Now, the problem with the Ditch is that you have a narrow margin of error.  In the middle of the dig, you might be at a comfortable 17 feet depth, but if you veer too much to the right or left, your depth drops sharply; imagine a cliff underwater.

We found that out a few days ago in the mouth of the Alligator River (by the way, I did not see any alligators there).   A hard and fast rule of navigating the ICW is to NOT totally depend on the autopilot/chartplotter.  People become mesmerized by the magenta line and forget to watch their depth. 

Gary added the skull and crossbones

The route we were on had originally gone one way and because of shoaling, the red mark that we had to keep to starboard had been moved.  Gary turned off the autopilot and manually steered us on the new course, but our depth dropped dramatically and he quickly reversed us, but we did bump first.  He thinks there was a ridge because right afterwards we were in good depth again.  So now he says we are ICW veterans as we had our first touch.

The scenery and wildlife (birds, mostly) were stunning; we passed an eagle perched atop a dead tree at the edge of the canal, we saw hundreds and hundreds of migrating birds gathering in tree tops at dusk, and the different waterside areas were just gorgeous and so still sometimes.  It made you feel such a small part of things, yet except for the modern boats scooting around, it looks like a primeval forest. 

We passed sparsely to non-inhabited areas; we passed what seemed like the Route 1 of the canal when we came to Coinjock, which I hear from my son is most famous for two things--supposedly, in the summer, scantily clad women hold up signs trying to entice you to their particular dock (sirens of the canal), and there's a restaurant there that claims to have the "world's best" prime rib.  Elliott told me that a fellow sailor who dinghied over to chat at the Alligator River anchorage had just heard from his brother who called him as he was waiting in line for said steak.

We passed quite a few hunting punts covered with camo and filled with aspiring and seasoned hunters.  Duck blinds popped up with hunters at the ready for flocks drawn in by duck musk and decoys.

I wish we could do the Georgia portion of the ICW, but shoaling is a very big problem there and we don't need that stress and possible damage to the boat.  I would like to go there sometime on a smaller boat, especially in the summertime, so see what I hear is a sumptuous amount of wildlife, in the air, land, and water.

Alligator River Anchorage

Before we got to the Alligator River, I had snuck into Elliott's forward bunk to read and ended up napping a bit.  The engine is close to our aft cabin and, while I can still hear and feel the engine forward, it does decrease the noise and vibration to be at the bow.  At one point, Elliott opened the door, said sorry, and then left. 

I came out after we had anchored and after a while, Elliott finally, goaded by his dad, told me he had fallen down the companionway while trying to exit like a typical 15-year-old might; over the hatch.  I can't believe I didn't hear him tumbling down.

I noticed something was off when he asked me to look at some photos we had taken during the day and at one point, I looked over at him and his mouth just didn't look right.  I could see blood at the corner of his mouth.

Seems on the way down or when he landed, he had bitten his lip.  But also, underneath the bottom lip, he had an inch-long open gash.  My first thought was that he would have to have stitches, but we were in the middle of nowhere with no cell connection.  And we had no ice to help with swelling.  With an application of antiseptic ointment, he went to bed early. 

The next day, the wound didn't look as ghastly and so I added only a bit of Manuka honey to help heal it up.  It's a messy proposition with the drippy stuff, but I think the wound looks pretty good right now.  Elliott calls my remedies "hippie stuff."  Luckily, our next stop would be an area that had a hospital right at the shore in case we needed it.  He still has a bit of swelling, but no warmth at the spot and no extra bleeding, but we've tried not to be too funny so that he doesn't split it back open with a big hoo-haa laugh.  He just looks smirky and swears that there is no pain.  I am watching him closely, which he hates, but that won't stop me from schmearing him with honey when he needs it.

So, we had our first bump and our first injury and we will carry on.  I am looking forward to more sun and some saltwater, not only to help heal Elliott's injury, but to also calm and relax us all.