A Visit to Beaufort SC and its Hospital.

April 19, 2022

It was really pretty cruising through Hilton Head on our way to Beaufort SC. We haven't been to Hilton Head and it was nice to see it from the water. This afternoon, we are hoping to catch a mooring ball at Safe Harbor Marina located right in Beaufort SC (pronounced BEW-furd). The balls are first come, first serve, and there are only a few that will hold Holy Cow.

As we enter into the bay, Gord hails the Dockmaster, and he responds saying that there are two mooring balls available and we can have our pick. Catching the mooring ball and tying up goes seamlessly. Today was a shorter travel day, so I made up some lunch for us to eat on the back deck before heading to shore. We can see dark clouds looming in the not so far distance. It has been forecasted that 51mm of rain is expected. As I clean up lunch and Gord heads to the bridge to do some more planning, the kids are playing in the forward stateroom. They were laughing really hard and I was going to remind them that someone always ends up in tears, but I let it go. A few minutes later, I heard a significant cry from Brooklyn. It sounded like a cry that needed some attention, so I asked if she wanted me to come and have a look. She said she'd come to me. She limped down the hall and we sat on my bed. She told me she tickled Jaxon and he kicked out and caught her ankle and banged it against the wooden ledge. There wasn't much to see, but she was pretty upset about it. We had planned to go for a walk with the dogs to see the town before the rain came. We waited for Brooklyn to settle and then asked if she wanted to go for the walk. She said she'd try.

Beaufort SC is a charming. Most of the stores were closed because it was Sunday, but we enjoyed a walk around the quaint little city. The waterfront is especially pretty with its sea shell and concrete walking path which is lined with beautiful swinging benches overlooking the harbour. One of the amazing things we see and hear are the Marine Corps jets. They are incredible to watch but also deafening when they pass. The Marine Corps Air Station (MCAS) is just a few kilometers northwest of where we are. We learn that the MCAS slogan is "That noise you hear is the sound of freedom."

Brooklyn was really struggling during our walk so I piggy backed her most of the way. When we feel the first drops of rain fall from those nearing clouds, we piled into the dinghy and headed back to the boat to batten down the hatches for the inevitable rain. The poor kid was pretty uncomfortable when we unloaded at the boat. We hummed and hawed about taking her to the hospital. She really thought we should go which surprised me, but she also didn't want anyone to touch her foot. After we talked it out, we decided to ice her foot and wait until morning to see how she was.

While I was tending to Brooklyn, the rain eased up a little. Jaxon and Gord had hopped in the dinghy to offer some assistance to a couple on a sail boat having trouble catching their mooring ball. It was windy and the current wasn't helping. Gord drove to the mooring ball and picked up the line with the dinghy bow to bow with the sailboat. As he was passing them the hoop of the mooring ball line, he also passed their bow line through the hoop. His left hand got caught between the line and the hoop and the forward momentum of the sailboat tighten the lines and started crushing his fingers. With his fingers caught he tried to pull the line with his right hand using his hip on the dinghy seat as leverage. We learn later that the force of this actually broke the seat. Somehow, he manages to pull his hand free and immediately tells the sailors he needs to leave. I was unaware of any of this until I heard them return. Jaxon called out to me that "Dad needs your help." I rushed out to the cockpit and see Gord holding his hand and demanding ice in a bag from Jaxon. He tells me we need to go to emergency now. As I start frantically gathering life jackets, health cards and getting the dogs inside, I'm trying to understand what happened, asking questions of Jaxon and Gord. He is still in the dinghy with his hand in a bag of ice. I haven't even seen it up close yet because he's 20 feet away. He says he thinks his fingers may be crushed. They are deformed and he has no feeling in his index, ring and pinky fingers. I've got everything ready, including Brooklyn, but now we wait. Gord wants a second. He thinks he may be okay. He continues to sit in the dinghy with his hand in the bag of ice. There is no blood to speak of and I haven't jumped in the dinghy to have a look because I'm ready to carry the other patient into the dinghy. Gord wants a few more minutes to sit and ice his hand. He takes out his hand and attempts to make a fist. The immediate swelling prevents him from doing this, but he's not in excruciating pain. However, the shape of his fingers has him very concerned. He ices it again for a few minutes and then pulls it back out. He does this a few times assessing the injury. He says again that he thinks he may be okay. He said when it was happening he was pretty sure he was going to lose his fingers. If the lines had tightened over his knuckles instead of his fingers, for sure his hand would be crushed. As the shape of his fingers slowly became less deformed, the swelling increased and they looked like massive sausages stuck to his palm. He finally comes in from the dinghy and sits down. Even though he has no feeling in two of his fingers, and there is some considerable rope burn, he still insists his hand is okay. So we all sit down, recap what happened and are thankful that the outcome wasn't different. I said we should take a picture of his hand, and he said it wasn't nearly as grotesque as it was an hour ago. I told him, in the moments of panic, taking a picture of his hand "for the blog" wasn't high on my priority list. We decide there would be no hospital visit this evening and we would see how the night goes for both Gord and Brooklyn.

It rains a ton that night. In fact, Gord takes the dogs to shore for their last trip of the day in the pouring rain. When he returns and he and the dogs are dried off, I check the injuries and tuck everyone in for the night. I wish I had wine on board, I could use a glass.

In the morning, Gord's fingers are still obscenely fat, he still can't make a fist and they are sore. Brooklyn's foot looks a little swollen but there is no aggressive bruising. She thinks we should go to the hospital because she is still unable to walk on it. She says she feels like her ankle needs to crack, but it's too painful to rotate her foot, and it clicks when she does try. She's a tough kid. She's broken a few bones in her life and there's a bit of a sinking feeling about what could be wrong. A child on crutches for the remainder of this trip could be very challenging as well as a complete bummer for her. Also, a captain in need of a cast on his left hand and fingers, or worse, needing surgery isn't ideal. We load up in the dinghy and head to the Beaufort Memorial Hospital. Fun fact - the Beaufort hospital has a dinghy dock and it's literally in the bay we are moored in just 400 yards off our stern. How many people have arrived by dinghy to the emergency room? As we hop out, Gord assures me he doesn't need an x-ray on his hand. The boys take the dogs for a quick walk before heading back to Holy Cow and I piggy back our little peanut up to the Emergency Room entrance.

The staff in the hospital are incredibly helpful. We register and are brought to an examination room. We see a total of six different individuals. Brooklyn was brave and told each one of them what happened and how her foot and ankle felt. She was really concerned that one of them was going try to twist it. A technician came in with a portable x-ray machine shortly after we saw the doctor. She took five images and Brooklyn didn't even need to get out of her comfy chair in the examination room. It wasn't long before the doctor came in to tell us the news. There was no break. What a relief. However, he expected there was a bone bruise and some ligament damage which was why it was so tender and why she had a loose clicking feeling in her ankle. They advised us to treat it like a sprain. Ice, Advil, elevation and rest for the next few days and a compression wrap until she feels she's good to go. I send Gord a message and he deploys Jaxon in the dinghy to come and get us.

When we arrive back at the boat, Gord is in the thick of planning the next few days and working. I set Brooklyn up with a snack and a movie because Jaxon wants to take me for a dinghy ride. We take a little buzz around the mooring field and head to shore for a walk and some ice-cream before heading back to wind down for the evening.

Tomorrow morning we want to get away in good time, however, the Beaufort Memorial Bridge does not open during rush hours. We would need to be at the bridge for 6:45am or after 9:00am. Neither of these are great options considering the tides and currents involved in our travel day. So we decide, for the first time ever, to lower the out riggers and antennae of Holy Cow. We have learned a lot about this boat in these past few weeks. She's a great vessel, and in a few minutes, we were about to learn how the down riggers lower. We will never actually use them, they just look cool. The process of lowering the equipment is relatively easy and we get the task done before heading to bed. We are all set for tomorrow to sneak under the Memorial Bridge to continue our voyage north to an anchorage in Stono River, just outside of Charleston SC.

In the morning, we untie from the mooring ball and are on our way. We glide under the Beaufort Memorial Bridge, and when we get to the other side, Jaxon takes the seat at the helm and keeps us on course while Gord and I put the down riggers and antennae back up. Jaxon loves the challenge and the responsibly. He is truly in his element out here.

Voyage Log

Get the voyage log here.