Wednesday, April 4, 6:00 a.m.
NOAA called for calm seas and minimal wind, so we decided to run outside again. Boy did they call it right! What an absolutely amazing day -- the Atlantic felt like a lake! And the sea life -- We had dolphins following us, saw a lone Marlin, dodged lounging sea turtles and stopped for what appeared to be a shoal but turned out to be about 100 sting rays -- I have never seen such a thing! As we approached St. Simon's Sound off the coast of Georgia, the wind picked up and the water became sloppy. But, since we had had such a wonderful day, we certainly couldn't complain. After about 10 hours of running, we rented a slip at the Golden Isles Marina on St. Simon's Island and called it a night.

Thursday, April 5, 6:30 a.m.
NOAA was calling for 5-7 footers on the Atlantic, but we thought we'd give it a try (our biggest mistake of the trip) as we were running on a tight time schedule. It was rough out there, but certainly manageable, until we hit the last channel marker and left the sound. We were turning to head north, when we hit an eight footer at a forty-five degree angle, putting the flat part of the hull dead on the crown of the wave. I am too short to reach the grab bar on the tower, so I had been holding on to the grab bar on the port side of the cockpit and bracing myself on the dash area. As we hit the wave, my left leg hit the port wall, my knee folded out, my right leg slid starboard and I ended up on my tush. Within five minutes of my fall, my knee was about the size of a grapefruit -- you could not tell that I had a knee cap. Right after the fall we headed back to the Sound to run up the ICW. The channel was a mess -- hardly any markers -- but we did see more dolphins and quite a few submersibles (I don't think that's their technical name -- they are birds that sit on the water and dive down whenever a boat gets close). Due to the rough start (heading out and coming back cost us about 2 hours), the poorly marked channel and the pain I was in, we decided to call it a day at around 3:00. We stopped at the Port Royal Landing Marina in Beaufort, South Carolina, where the greatest dock master of all time, Larry, helped us with fuel, tied the lines, helped Scott get me up the dock ramp, drove us in the golf cart to the Marina Office, gave us crutches, the keys to a loaner car and directions to the nearest doctor's office. The good news is, I didn't break anything, the bad news is, he thinks it might be a torn ACL (I will go to an orthopedic surgeon on Tuesday). That night after a quick meal at the marina restaurant, we joined the local boat owners for their weekly Thursday night get together. The people were so friendly! It was a great way to end the day.

Friday, April 6, 7:00 a.m. 
We headed up the ICW for Southport, North Carolina on the Cape Fear River (about an 11 hour run). We made great time and hit all the bridges just right (we have a 22 ft. clearance on our riggers, so we have to have quite a few of the bridges open for us and some are timed -- only opening on the hour and half hour). The coolest bridge was the pontoon bridge...center section of the bridge floats and when it is time to open, it releases the cables and floats north. It is the wildest thing!  

On the other side of the bridge we came across two fishing boats rafted together -- they were named Capt. Scott and Miss Sara! 


 It was great to see Charleston, Myrtle Beach and Hilton Head from the water. Some of these houses were absolutely amazing! We saw more dolphins, plenty of submersibles and the weather was gorgeous!

Saturday, April 7, 7:45 a.m.
We slept through our alarm -- the long days and hot sun take a toll on the body -- and got a late start. We weren't quite as lucky with the bridges today. We hit the first one right on. The second one only opened every hour and we happened to hit it at about 5 after (it had probably just closed). There wasn't any place to tie up, so we just did donuts for about 55 minutes). The third bridge, the Onslow Beach Swing Bridge, opened on demand. So, we hailed the bridge tender on the radio several times and never got a response. A sailboat under power was pulled by the current while it was trying to do a figure eight in front of our bow and almost hit us -- a little excitement always gets the adrenaline running. After about ten minutes, Scott lined himself up with the bridge tender and blasted the horn -- the guy was sleeping, if you can believe that! Within minutes the bridge was open and we crossed. The weather was warm and beautiful until we hit the Pamlico Sound on our way to Pirates Cove Marina in Manteo, NC (an island just North West of Hatteras). The temperature dropped about twenty degrees and fog started to roll in. As we headed up the Roanoke Sound, we found the channel markers to be few and far between. Not to mention they changed from green on the right to red on the right in the middle of the channel. We had a slower run to Pirate's Cove, but eventually made it there after about a 10 hour run. That evening, Scott made arrangements with some of the local charter boat captains for us to follow them out of the Oregon Inlet (the only way for us to get out to the Atlantic -- we thought we'd try it again).

Sunday, April 8, 5:45 a.m.
The boat we were supposed to follow left 15 minutes earlier than he said he was going to leave. Scott got the lines off the dock and the boat moving within about three minutes. We decided to wait for the other boats and let Scott and I both get our bearings -- Another adrenaline rush early in the morning! We followed fishing boat Hog Wild and were out the inlet in about 25 minutes. It was amazing -- the channel was marked with sticks and floating foam -- if you missed the channel you were in about one foot of water (which means you are on the ground). The Atlantic was rough (3-5 footers) and the wind was strong. It was a relatively painful ride for me, as there are not a lot of places to rest my leg. As we crossed into Virginia, we hit fog like you wouldn't believe! At some points, we couldn't see more than 20 feet in front of our bow. We were down to 8 knots (about sailboat speed) and keeping a watchful eye on everything around us. After about an hour in the fog, your eyes start playing tricks on you! We did make it back safely -- arriving at our port-o-call, Salt Ponds Marina -- at around 11:00 a.m. Scott washed the boat down while I readied the cabin, our friends picked up Bobo and brought him to the marina and we all went back to our house and ordered pizza.

I did go to the doctor when we returned and had an MRI.  Turns out I experienced a tear in the MCL and a fracture in the exterior of the knee.  Scott and I definitely will try the trip again, but next time, we will take more time. It was a beautiful run, fraught with adventure!