October 30. Okay, today was the day. We’d decided to leave at slack tide and head south looking for a spot that offers a little better protection while tropical storm Noel runs his course.

Slack tide was just after noon today so we had time to head over to the grocery store and do a little last minute provisioning. We got back and had the boat squared away by 1130 hours.

I’d been figuring that if we could leave a little early we could get the last of the push through Elliot’s Cut. Elliot’s Cut is a narrow gap immediately south of Charleston on the ICW. Fighting a tide there would be less than fun so I decided that the wind was manageable and tide looked pretty slow so we could cast off and head out.

Our slip was shaped like a “U” with room for a boat inside either leg of the U, without pilings in between. The slip is about 44 feet wide and our neighbor to our left departed last night so we were in the big slip by ourselves. The wind was blowing 15 to 20 knots over the starboard bow and we had a slight tidal flow from behind pushing us into our slip.

Christy was concerned that our departure could get a little ugly so she wanted to call the marina to send down a dockhand or 2 to make things easier. In the past we’ve had a dockhands help turn a simple docking into an adrenaline rush so I was against asking for help. Oh yeah and I’m a male, I have a penis so I can’t ask for help.

Christy insisted that the wind was too strong and the current was still running so we should call for help. I relented and let her call, her happiness is important to me. No answer, yessss. See honey, we’re on our own; this’ll be a piece of cake.

Usually when we leave a dock, Christy drives while I take care of the lines from the dock and fend us off until the last possible moment when I pull myself aboard. Christy told me right away that she DID NOT want to be at the helm for this undocking. Here, the wind was pushing us off the dock so hard that I couldn’t take the chance of being on the dock and having the boat blown away from me. So I rigged the bow, stern and spring lines to allow them to be slipped from their cleats while I’m on deck.

First the stern, perfect. Then the bow, excellent. The spring line, which is amidship, slipped off clean just as it should have and then all hell broke loose. Oh I forgot to say, Christy was at the helm………

As soon as the spring was clear the bow started to blow off to port, fast! I took the helm but was unable to back up as the stern was already starting to face the floating dock we had just been tied to. The navigator / admiral was at the stern and after reconnoitering informed me that we had about 6 inches between the swim platform and the concrete dock, okay, she might have yelled at me. Then the navigator / admiral sprinted forward and kept an eye as we pivoted our 42ft+ boat around while still in the slip. She told me we had about a foot between the bow and the forward floating dock. By alternating forward and reverse and using the bowthruster we were able to let the wind blow the bow around with less than a foot to spare at either end of the boat. So we did a complete counter-clockwise 180 degree turn in the slip!

Once the boat had completely turned around we were able to motor out into the fairway and head for open water. As soon as we were in the clear Christy (glaring) voiced the opinion that we should have sought help and we just got lucky. Damn and here I was pretty pleased with my nifty boat handling. Stupid and lucky says she . Nifty says I. (<~Read like a pirate) She asked “I wonder if anybody saw that?”. I said “Are you kidding? I hope somebody saw that”.

Now I can say that I truly understand the expression “I’d rather be lucky than good”. If you had asked me if the boat would be able to spin completely around in that space, I would have bet against it. Things went to hell quick but we were able to get out unscathed. I wonder if I willed the docks to spread so we could pivot, hmmmm. I was wondering about the strength of my mental powers while Christy was wondering about the state of my mental prowess.

All told, I guess my stubbornness put us in a pretty tough spot. On the bright side though, we did get out of it unmarked. Nifty.

Editor’s Note: Bill will pay for this stunt for a loooooooooong time!

By the time we had traveled the couple of miles to the Wapoo Creek lift bridge Christy was able to speak at a normal volume, she even offered to make me a cup of Oleander tea.

The rest of the trip went very well and after a 32 mile day we were anchored in Steamboat Creek just after 1600 hours. It’s a pretty anchorage with marshland along one bank and live oaks along the other shore. There’s even a public boat ramp so dog walking is easy. We will leave at 1000 hours tomorrow and ride a favorable tide for most of our projected 34 mile day the town of Ladies Island, SC.