ICW: North River to Alligator River
Day two on the Intracoastal Waterway felt much less remarkable than day one. Nothing crazy happened. No fighter planes, no inconsiderate power boaters, and no strange lights in the sky. The last part actually isn’t true, but whatever was novel to me the past few days, isn’t anymore.
When you are long term cruising, you fall in a rhythm. You start being okay about not having daily showers. You stop shaving every day. Your body constantly steadying itself to the ever present motion of the boat becomes normal. The muscle fatigue is there, but it doesn’t register in your brain anymore. The mind gets sharp in the right places, and numb in others.
I’ve surrendered myself to the realities of the Intracoastal Waterways. The suffocating closeness of the water’s edge, other boats, docks, and everything else that I can collide into is a part of my life now. Normally I’d want to be killing over seventy nautical miles at sea. Now, forty to fifty nautical miles a day in skinny waters feels great. I don’t have the strong desire to push on through the night either. And I’ve hardly noticed my wallet getting lighter from the fuel stops, necessitated by the hours and hours of moving under engine power.
The tangible aspects of me– my body, my conscious mind, and my decision making — have become malleable. But my spirit has too. I will bend, flex and mold to this environment, and put the sea on a pedestal like I should. I’m simply allowed to be here on this little patch of Mother Earth, and she will not budge an inch to accommodate me.
I traveled just under fifty miles today, from anchorage to anchorage. I’m deep into North Carolina now. People are very hospitable and polite. ‘Proper’ is the word I’m looking for. I even got to put out my headsail and save some fuel for about fourteen miles, doing just above five knots at idle power. This blissful state lasted for about nine miles coming down the Albemarle sound and the rest at the Alligator river. I am for sure a tourist, a mere temporary spec in the beautiful Outer Banks, as I still cannot pronounce Albemarle correctly.
I kept wondering why the river has such a name? Is the etymology another one simply lost in time? There were no Alligators here that I could see. My friend Mike T. simply said ‘don’t fall in’ through text messages. I got a chuckle out of that response. If you look at the charts, the river vaguely looks like an alligator. As if you’re looking down on one from a helicopter. I went to the University of Florida. At that school, you are constantly being bombarded by alligator imagery of all forms. I can recognize the shape of a gator anywhere. So, for now, I will write this question off.
At the entrance to the Alligator river, just before the Alligator River bridge, there is a marina called the Alligator River marina. Although it is called a marina, it is really more like a gas stop for boats. It is also attached to a car gas station. I was able to get some energy drinks and candy there. I also got to save a dollar per gallon on fuel by hauling my fuel jugs there instead of using the dockside fuel. The marina manager distinguishes himself in my memories as he was the best marina radio operator I’ve ever hailed. He keeps the bathrooms really clean too!
Motorcyclists wave at each other. Almost every single time one crosses paths with another. Most of the time this is a reciprocal relationship. Its like being in a club of some sort, an acknowledgement of the shared experiences. Some motorcyclists can be the prissiest, most insecure people, and many of these people who ride a certain brand of motorcycles won’t wave back at other bikes.
Now, boaters have the same thing, especially on the Intracoastal, since you will always be within waving distance when you pass each other. Some power boaters don’t wave back at sailboats. No one knows why. Are they are being busy looking too cool in their Oakleys and Salt Life gear? Or maybe they just don’t respect sailors because we are slow and constantly in the way for them. Perhaps more likely, the power boats that don’t wave back are just the same as motorcyclists that don’t. Its worth noting that I am all of those things — I ride motorcycles, spend a ton of time on power boats, and I sail slowly on a sailboat. I think I’m allowed to make fun of myself on this trip.
You come across a lot of tugboats pushing barges in the intracoastal. As far as boats go, they really don’t have much in common with sailboats. But they always wave back at you. It must be such a fun job. You and one other co-worker taking shifts at the helm. I think long distance vessels on the Intracoastal all share something, similar to how motorcyclists share a common bond. Everyone has two tires that touch that piece of road — just as your keel pushing away the same piece of water. You both experience the sights and solitude the same way.
You know what else we have in common? Seeing all these crazy lights. I saw more flashing lights on the horizon, starting as soon as the sun set. It came from the same general direction, but a lot closer since I’ve traveled in that direction as well. They look like giant strobe lights from beyond the horizon that lights up an entire section of the sky. Most of the flashes come from one source, and every once in a while, a second light, slightly more western, will flash. Whenever the secondary light flashed, it felt like it was right on top of me when I was traversing the Alligator river. It gave me a scare – I thought there was going to be some fun weather. Then I remembered about all of the military presence here. Sure enough, the charts showed another gunnery range in the Pamlico sound.
I anchored early just after the Southern tip of the Alligator river. After dinner and writing in my journal, it is typically close to midnight. This time, it was ten. How nice it is to go to sleep early. I had set anchor at eight and had plenty of time to relax, eat, and mess around with my Iridium Go. I had left cell coverage a while back, and I wanted to make sure this overpriced device worked. I was now past the halfway mark to Beaufort, NC!