Inside the Outer Banks/ Elpis Makes it Home

After Beaufort, NC, it was time to go back to and stay on the ICW. Back in the winding canals, our first afternoon traveling north of Beaufort rapidly went from nice sunny skies to mega storm, heralded by a mass of black clouds racing towards us. Emily sweated down below and watched the GPS (“stay more to port!”) while I drove in the blinding downpour standing on my rubber shoes and tried not to touch anything metal. Lightning bolts constantly rained down, each cracking BOOM sending me into a fit of shivering and prayers to every deity that was and ever will be that we wouldn’t be struck. There was nowhere to stop—not that anchoring prevents lightning strikes—but I was comforted by the fact that we were surrounded by land and passing near metal objects much bigger than us. The worst that happened was that I got cold, but I’ve learned to appreciate a good thunderstorm from inside a building.

The rest of our outer banks trip was a series of rain storms, forests, spotting jellyfish in the water, swamps, and more flies than we could count. We came across many little quiet towns offering free docks, and we explored the remnants of busy shipping days gone by. Old bustling towns are now ghosts of former glory, hanging on and surviving on local fishing and communities of long-term residents. It’s a side of America we don’t ever think of, or even know exists. It was a fascinating tour through history and a lesson in how the moods of industry can dramatically change the fabric of the country.

The final stretch before reaching Norfolk took us through the Dismal Swamp. Commissioned by George Washington, he saw an opportunity to create a canal to facilitate shipping, and a 20 mile long ditch was dug. Although commercial shipping advanced and eventually bypassed the need for the canal, it is now maintained for recreational traffic. There is a lock on either end, and it passes through a state park and heavy swamp. The water is a deep glossy black, mirroring the overarching trees. It was like driving through the tunnel of trees near Harbor Springs, MI, except I had to constantly look up to make sure the mast wouldn’t collide with a branch. The flies were voracious, but I was fascinated by the myriad of green on every side. The only downside was the intense heat. I had been hoping that the trees would be close enough that we could catch some shade, but the sun beat down and we melted in the airless tunnel. We managed to find a grocery store and walked around aimlessly enjoying the AC. Perks of boat life.

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In the meantime, we interrupt your normally scheduled programming for this important announcement:

I and Elpis have made it home! I technically crossed my wake at Mackinac Island on Sunday, September 23rd, and finished the trip at Crescent Sail Yacht Club Wednesday, October 3rd. It was a chilly last few weeks on Lake Huron, but I've made it back with no problems and no frostbite. I can't thank everyone enough from home and along the way for all the help, support, and encouragement. It was (roughly) 6,600 miles of adventures and memories. Land life, here I come!

Stay tuned for the stories of the northern part of our trip- New York, Canada, etc. Now with reliable access to wifi, more blog posts are in the works, we promise!

The local fishing fleet