June 24, 2008.

We’ve spent the last few days tied to the dock behind Ken & Carol’s house. It’s really a special treat for us to be there. The dogs have free run of their large wooded lot, while we have run of the house.

We’ve taken Ken’s car, out and about, and have ridden their bicycles all over town. I’m particularly fond of their big screen television with hundreds of channels to choose from. When we’re there we’re also absorbed right into the Small’s social schedule and have found ourselves in the company of several interesting couples. Oriental really is a kick ass little town. Many thanks to them for sharing their car, friends, town and home with us!

All good things must come to an end though. We had planned to leave yesterday morning but woke to a day of rain punctuated by one nasty storm cell after another. Thunder, lightning and heavy rain ruled the day so we decided to stay put.

This morning we woke to a beautiful day and after a splendid breakfast up at the Casa Small we were set to leave the dock. Whittaker Creek is a little shallow for our boat. There’s not really much of a tide, maybe an inch or three, but the wind driven surge plays a huge roll in our ability to get in and out of the creek.

When we arrived here we bumped bottom as we were turning around to tie up at their dock. The water was definitely an inch or two lower then when we arrived, but we had a straight shot out, once we cleared the Small’s boat which was tied up directly in front of us. We used a stern line to warp us off the dock and Veranda slowly made forward progress as Ken fended at the stern and Christy and Carol took care of the bow.

When we got to the center of the channel we were clear of the bottom and made our way down the creek with only 3 or 4 inches of water under us for the majority of the journey. After we cleared Whittaker Creek we turned east in the Neuse River. We had a bit of breeze and were able to motor sail for the first 3 hours and then the wind completely died. Then it was a long slow motor, across glassy flat calm seas.



Our destination for the day was Ocracoke, NC. It’s a small community out on the Outer Banks, one of the barrier islands along the coast of North Carolina. There are only 2 channels into the anchorage. One is called the Nine Foot Channel, its kind of a natural channel that does have aids to navigation but seems to be a little sketchy as to the depths. The other route is called the Big Foot Slough Channel, commonly referred to as the Ferry Channel. It’s a marked channel that is transited by car ferries. The downside of this route is that there is confirmed shoaling to avoid and the ferries are timed so closely together that you can’t really get through the channel without meeting at least 1 ferry.

So we had several hours to read all the guides and consider all the advice we’d been given to make our decision as to which route to choose. Then, while still 15 miles away we heard the Coast Guard advising an inbound boat as to the location of some severe shoaling in the Ferry Channel.

We figured that armed with this new knowledge plus the fact that if the ferry can do it…….so can we, the Ferry Channel it is. The channel is several miles long and as you approach you can barely see land. As you approach the channel it’s from an extreme angle so it’s not obvious to you what your exact route will be. Theres nothing to be seen but water in every direction and there seems to be aids to navigation tossed about in a very haphazard way. Once committed to the channel it becomes a little easier to get your bearings and make sense of the channel markers.

We got through the sketchy parts quickly and met an outbound ferry in the widest, deepest part of the channel. That passing went well and we were soon getting ready to turn into the tiny breakwater so we could enter the harbor. Just as we were approaching the small stone jetties we heard the horn blasts of the next ferry departing from his berth. We turned around and milled about for a minute as the ferry came out the breakwater so we could safely enter.

Once inside we were in a completely landlocked pond. There were a half dozen boats already at anchor and we found a perfectly spaced spot right in the middle of everyone. The bottom here is sand and provides excellent holding. We’ll spend a few days here before we head up to Manteo on Roanoke Island.

Later this afternoon a catamaran came in and gave an excellent demonstration on how “not” to anchor. By the time they started their third attempt everyone in the anchorage was on deck watching. By the time he was on his fourth attempt I had to get the camera out and take some video. (unfortunately he provided me with so much great footage that the file is too big for me to load here). He let out half the chain he was going to use and dragged the anchor until it started to set and then he paused while his wife dumped the rest of the chain. Then he started back again but at such a high speed that when the chain came taut it ripped the lightly set anchor from the bottom and it just bounced along with no chance to reset itself. Finally they would have to retrieve their anchor and try again with similar results. But even a blind squirrel finds an acorn every now and again and they got the anchor to set on their eighth attempt. The sick thing is that they’ll probably tell everyone they know about the shitty holding here while it was just an improper anchor or crappy technique on their part.

If you've ever seen those fake owls that people put out to scare away seagulls then I guess you'll agree that their effectiveness is a little overrated.