Given that we are at mile 61.2 of the ICW, the first part of our next leg is to cross the Albemarle Sound. The forecast for today was for winds gusting to 25 knots and 2-3 foot seas in the sound, so we decided to stay in our anchorage and leave in somewhat calmer conditions tomorrow. We are in a reasonably well protected anchorage with beautiful surroundings and it was nice to get a full day’s worth of it.
The promised strong N winds came last night, just in time to blow bands of vampiric mosquitoes from the cockpit. We had a good night, though by morning Drag Queen reported the anchor had shifted position by 10 feet, not enough to trigger the alarm, but enough to put us on guard. Watching the surrounding landmarks throughout the morning we suspected we might be dragging very slowly in the soft mud and gusty winds. Therefore, later in the morning when the anchor had now moved 25 feet, we decided to re-anchor deeper in the creek. Those of you who looked at our AIS track for today on the home page can see the short distance we moved to re-anchor. The anchor chain was covered in soft mud, but the anchor was not caked in deep thick mud. We suspect our anchor was slowly pulling a furrow through the soft bottom.
Our new vista had much taller pines and many snags and toppled trees and here we saw more wildlife. A huge flock of black and white tree swallows swirled in a tornado-like formation, snatching bugs from the air and twittering. Then, in perfect synchrony they reformed into a dense cloud that landed in the crown of the tallest pine turning the green treetop black.
Tom went below to inspect the engine and stuffing box. I stayed above to scrape old varnish from the teak. Suddenly, I heard what sounded almost like osprey cries. I had heard this exact same sound yesterday off our starboard side just as we entered Broad Creek, but could see no birds, no matter how hard I looked. Now the shrill sounds were again very close, but again no hawks or other birds. Then movement in the water caught my eye. Two long sleek sinuous otters paralleled the marshy shore, diving and surfacing and voicing the birdlike cries. As Tommy and I watched, they climbed into the tall grass and were gone. We were thrilled. We now also realized that we must have had an otter escort yesterday!
4 Responses
I am happy to see that you are near the obx. Are you stopping by kitty hawk? I am interested to see your route from here down. We will track your progress.
Not stopping there this time. The ICW path keeps us west of the OBX. We lost so much time due to waiting out the Hurricane we will have to forgo some planned side trips to make up the time. We certainly got to know Norfolk pretty well.
I forgot how the winds can whip on the water. How exciting that you can observe nature first hand. Can you imagine the Indians and the first settlers in such surroundings? You should make these pictures and your blog a travel presentation. The local camera club here would welcome this. I am sure in Florida there would be similar enthusiasm. Enjoy, Jean and Tom
Paula, we have quite the population of river otters here on the Columbia River. We often see them when we are out fishing. Their chittering and chirping is so funny, isn’t it! I once had one ruin my trout fishing at a local lake because he wanted the trout I had caught that were hanging on my stringer! He wouldn’t leave me alone, and I finally had to call it a day. They are beautiful and funny, and I feel blessed every time I see them.