Last night in our tiny, narrow, marshy creek just off the ICW with no boats in sight, we felt very isolated and remote, but the bright gibbous moon helped. We slept in the cockpit to keep an eye on the anchor. It took 2 tries to get it set and we couldn’t put out much scope because the creek was so narrow so we weren’t sure how well it would hold. Luckily, the wind died completely and there was little current in the creek so we were never in any trouble. Drag Queen was also on the case, indicating in the morning that the boat didn’t move an inch. We were warm and comfortable in our sleeping bags, listening to mournful owl calls, weird unidentifiable croaking, crickets, and huge fish splashes. There was a sky full of stars-until 5:30am when dense fog rolled in. This delayed our leaving (and every other vessel’s!) until almost 10 am, thus deflating our pipe dream of crossing the Albermarle sound today which was too distant with our late start.

We busied ourselves with tasks that could be stowed quickly as soon as the fog began to lift. Tommy took in a bit of anchor chain to remove the snubber only to discover a tiny handsome snake, who rode up the anchor chain entwined in the links. Unfazed by his new lofty perch, he flicked his tiny tongue at us, showing no inclination to return to the creek.

When the fog lifted, it lifted fast. In 15 minutes we went from pea soup to almost entirely clear, and we raised anchor and took off. On Currituck sound, we found that the cormorant population had taken over all the markers where the ospreys (now gone for the season) normally perch. There were a lot fewer boats than we expected, and only had a few polite passes from larger powerboats. There was still evidence of errant crab pots and much debris, including a 20 foot tree, totally submerged except for its roots and a branch at its tip, which we avoided, but initially took to be two much smaller obstacles. The binoculars were in constant use today.

We passed through the famous town of Coinjock, home to a restaurant featuring a 37oz steak. There was evidence of damage here too along the sides of the ICW. We cleared Coinjock’s fixed bridge with about two feet to spare.

We then traversed several types of waterway: a sound, a river, man cut canals, and twisty turny stretches interspersed with hummocks of land and scrubby vegetation, very spare and flat.

With higher winds forecast from the North tonight and tomorrow, we considered and rejected Buck Island anchorage as too exposed, and made for Broad Creek anchorage. It is well-protected with excellent holding ground, per the guides, but appears almost invisible until you’re about to enter. Trusting Tommy and the charts, Paula piloted into what looked like a marshy piece of shoreline that revealed at the last minute a beautiful and calm anchorage. In the entrance we had to dodge both a large stump and a swimming otter, but once in it showed itself to be appealing with adequate depths and good protection from the North.

Once anchored, Tommy made everything fast and took care of some correspondence, while Paula used the deck wash pump and some elbow grease to clean one of our lines of Comorant poop (which in case you are wondering smells like oysters kept for week in a sauna) a parting gift provided by one of our feathered friends in Norfolk.

Tonight will be shrimp and chuck steak stir fry with vegetables, rewarmed in a pan-easy! Likely this will be another night to sleep in the cockpit if the winds are up as forecast.

Since tomorrow has a high wind forecast as well, bad for crossing the sound, we will likely stay here in this anchorage tomorrow instead of crossing the sound in high winds, which can be treacherous. In addition, if the tender at the Alligator river bridge decides the winds are too high, we may endure a nasty crossing only to find the bridge closed and have no real good options. Saturday is a much better forecast and we will likely go across then.