Aground in Awendaw, SC.

April 22, 2022

When we leave Charleston, it marks a month to the day since we had left Marco Island. It's hard to believe we are this far into our journey home. When we sit and recount the adventures we have had, some of them seem so long ago.

It is a beautiful travel day. This part of the ICW is lined with protected land and is more marsh like scenery than we've experienced so far. There are very few palm trees seen these days, but it is still very pretty. We are headed to an anchorage in Awendaw SC. During the day, we were fortunate to catch dolphins in our wake again. They are noticeably larger and thicker than the dolphins we saw in the Keys.

The water through this part of the run is a murky brown, rust colour, another reminder that we are no longer in the Florida Keys. As we head towards our anchorage, Gord and I discuss how different they are from home. Anchorages here are often wide open and exposed. It feels unnatural to drop a hook and spend the night in these places. When we arrive and set the anchor, Gord wants to back down on it to make sure we are really in. There's an odd feeling when we do this and Gord feels like we are stuck. I see him look out the windows of the helm to see if we are stirring up the bottom even though the depth gage says we have nine feet under the props. It's the current he is fighting and it's odd to have to set the anchor against a strong current which is running a completely different direction than the wind.

When we are confident the anchor is in, Brooklyn sees this funny island in the distance and desperately wants to try to get there. Gord tells her that the island is farther away than she realizes and the water is a bit too choppy for our little dinghy. Instead, they load up the dogs and take them to a beach around the marshy point to let them have a bit of an off leash run. She's driving the dinghy these days and she's doing a great job. Poor Gord has been demoted to being the dinghy passenger, navigator and instructor since both kids love driving this little tender. When they return, it's clear the "beach" was far more mucky than expected. The dinghy is a mess front to back. We wash the dogs and dinghy off as best we can and get on with our evening.

In the morning, Gord and I are up early and it's a beautiful start to the day. Jaxon and Gord take the dogs to shore. Jaxon drives. Gord sits as co-pilot. When they come back and the water is still calm, we quietly wake Brooklyn up to see if she wants to try to get to her little island. She was so excited to try. We load up with coffee and tea in hand, sweaters and life jackets on and off we go. Before we left, I asked if we had enough gas for our run-a-bout and Gord assured me we had plenty. The water is so dark and rusty coloured here, we can't see the bottom. Gord was looking at the navigation app on his phone, and it just doesn't seem like we can get to that island. It's a complete mystery. It looks as if it may be an island surrounded by a marsh that is impossible to dinghy through. As we weave around the wet lands, we see another island that appears to be made completely out of sea shells. We took a closer drive by to see if we could spot any conch shells worth venturing onto the island for. As the water hit the side of the shore, the shells caved into the water. We expected stepping on this island may not be safe, but it was very cool to look at.

Tried as we might, there was no way to get close to Brooklyn's island. It looked like something from a Dr. Zeus book. There was nothing else around like it. We were surrounded by flat, weedy land masses, and this adorable looking island was the only thing that added a change to the horizon. We decide that not getting to the island may be for the best since the magic and mystery of it was still intact. As we made our way back to the boat, we imagine what could be living on Brooklyn's magical island.

On our way back to Holy Cow, suddenly the motor stuttered and the dinghy bounced to a halt. Gord immediately asked where the bow line was wondering if it had come loose and had fallen into the water and was now wrapped around the prop. Fortunately, it was still safely secured to the dinghy handle. What could be the problem? We had enough gas right!? I unstrapped one of our ores and stuck it into the water and hit a mucky sticky bottom less than 10" in. We had run aground! Even at this shallow depth we were completely unable to see the bottom. The good news is, there was no damage caused by running aground in this soft gooey muck. Gord raised the dinghy motor so the prop could run near the surface and I half paddled half pushed the dinghy with the ore to help move us along. When we floated in deeper water, we aborted the dinghy ride altogether and headed back to the boat to pull up anchor and make our way to Georgetown.

Voyage Log

Voyage details here.