The Savanna River is both the dividing line between Georgia and South Carolina, and also a very busy shipping channel for the port of Savanna. Not long after leaving our last anchorage in Georgia we crossed the river, dodging around a huge container ship and some accompanying tugs. After that, the ICW meanders along peacefully through various rivers and sounds much as it does in Georgia. Geographically, the entire area is referred to as the “Lowcountry,” and it is certainly flat and marshy, with mazes of interconnected rivers, creeks and sloughs. Historically, the area has been a favorite with pirates, smugglers, and blockade runners, who found plenty of hiding spots and secret shortcuts to ply their trade.
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Blue = anchorage or free dock, Red = marina, Star = high rating
Click for interactive version of map Interactive Map
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| Passing by the container ship |
Our first day in South Carolina took us through Port Royal Sound and past swanky Hilton Head Island and not so swanky Parris Island, to our first stop in Beaufort, SC (be sure to pronounce it BEW-fort here in South Carolina, not to be confused with another nice coastal town in North Carolina that is spelled the same way but pronounced BO-fort). We arrived at Lady’s Island Marina in Beaufort right at slack tide, which made it easier to get docked with our still-hinky starboard engine. There we met up with both Catniss, who we first met at Cumberland Island, and also our old looper friends on Pegasus. Lady’s Island is a nice and reasonably priced little marina, and we did the usual marina stay chores of laundry, boat cleaning and grocery shopping (using the marina’s courtesy car).
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| There were several fighter jets doing maneuvers as we left Beaufort |
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| Fresh beautiful shrimp from S&S Seafood at only $8.00 per pound. Two pounds please! |
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BellaGatto peaceful at anchor
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No filter, just the pure beauty of mother nature. Thanks to the heron for the cameo
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The next day was a Sunday, and we only had maybe 30 miles to go to our marina stop in Charleston. The day started out calm and quiet, but as we neared Charleston, the small boat traffic started to pick up. And up. And up. By the time we got to the little waterway that drops you out in the Ashley River and into Charleston proper, it was CRAZY! Throw in some steep choppy seas rounding Battery Point and some big commercial shipping, and even this South Florida boating traffic veteran was starting to get a bit overwhelmed. But we got into the Charleston Harbor Marina and Resort without killing or being killed and tied up at the fuel dock to pump out while they assigned us a slip. Funny thing about being a catamaran. Even though we have a very modest 15 foot beam and easily fit in most normal slips, when dockmasters see a catamaran they automatically send us over with the giant sailing cats with their 25 foot plus beams. So off we went to dock with the big boys, or as our neighbor said, “welcome to the litter box”! Our slip was certainly nice and roomy, but being way on the outer end of the break wall, it was like a quarter mile walk to the nearest land, which makes taking Bella for a walk a bit of a chore.
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A stacked up launch ramp
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Chaotic conditions as we enter Charleston Harbour
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Charleston waterfront looking toward the MegaDock where we stayed last year
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Our slip is practically in the shadow of the USS Yorktown
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BellaGatto in the Litter Box 😹
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Our big reason for being here was to meet with the service manager for Zimmerman Marine, to try to diagnose our continuing difficulties with the starboard engine (all this docking and maneuvering on mostly one engine was starting to get REALLY old). The next morning, he came down bright and early to start the diagnosis. After listening to and fiddling with things, he was pretty sure the root cause of our problems was not engine or transmission related but was due to severe engine misalignment which was periodically binding the shaft. His recommendation was to first eliminate this issue before going to the dark place of an injector pump problem. To do this the boat needs to come out of the water, so he made arrangements with the Zimmerman yard in Southport, North Carolina to haul the boat for a comprehensive running gear checkup and to take care of a couple of other little nagging problems as well. So we shall see. By that time it was a bit late to get underway that day, so we decided to spend another night there before moving on. And they did move us to a much more convenient slip. We never did see the night life of Charleston – between the Coronavirus outbreak and the curfew from the George Floyd protests, it seemed better to just stay aboard and hunker down.
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Sunrise at the marina
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Digging into the problem
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The next day we left the big city for the quaint and bucolic little town of McClellanville, an easy 35 miles. The ICW here is a notorious shallow spot where most boats have to play the tides to get through, but it is a piece of cake for our less than 3 foot draft, and we pulled in to the Leland Oil Company dock in McClellanville right on schedule. The marina there is pretty basic but very reasonably priced and friendly, and the highlight of the stop for us was going to the Carolina Seafood Company seafood market, which had fresh fish and the best crab dip on the planet. Period. No question. We also enjoyed walking around the town and seeing the well preserved historic houses and a perfectly gigantic live oak tree that is famous for miles around.
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Bella is in her glory with a dolphin sighting
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A quaint church in McClellanville
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The famous Deer Head Oak tree. If you look closely you can see Jonathan and Bella near the trunk. Click the link to see a picture of the whole tree.
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BellaGatto at the docks
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The shrimp fleet at Carolina Seafood Company in McClellanville
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Our next day was a pretty long one, following the ICW north for about 60 miles to Winyah Bay and then up the Waccamaw River to another favorite stop from our great loop trip last year, the Osprey Marina. The stretch of the Waccamaw between Georgetown and Bucksport is one of the prettiest stretches on the ICW, winding through cypress forests with very little civilization. And we had plenty of time to see it all, since just past Georgetown we hit a head current of 2-3 knots, which slows our forward progress down to about 5 miles an hour. Lots of times on the ICW, you hit an adverse tidal current for a while, but before too long it will switch, and you will be getting a boost instead. This was not like that – the head current never slacked – it just kept getting stronger. The heavy rains for an early tropical storm the week before had dropped so much rain on the area the Pee Dee and Waccamaw River basins were above flood stage, and all that water was in a big hurry to get to the ocean. With the high water, we couldn’t even crank the engines up to compensate, because we didn’t want to throw a wake and damage any of the docks and houses along the way that were already on the edge of being flooded. With the slowdown, we got to Osprey about 2 hours later than planned, but still in time to hit the fuel dock. We had not taken on fuel since Stuart, Florida, because I wanted to take advantage of the super cheap prices here. We were not quite sucking fumes, but it was definitely time to fuel. We took on 225 gallons of diesel at the price of $1.44 per gallon (with our 10% Boat/US discount). My inner miser was rubbing his palms together with glee.
The next day, we would descend from the pristine wilderness of the Waccamaw to the gaudy over-development of Myrtle Beach. Today, we were going “downhill” with the current, which was now flowing towards the Little River Inlet to get to the ocean. We were again traveling at half throttle or less to not throw any wake and damage anyone’s flooded property, but now with the current at our heels we were still making a solid 7-8 knots. It did not take too long to get to the “Grand Strand” as the resort area around Myrtle Beach is called. Along the way, we would go through another ICW scary spot known as “The Rockpile”. This stretch is not really super shallow, but the channel itself is very narrow, with rock ledges lurking just below the surface on either side. The cruising guides say you do NOT want to meet any large commercial traffic on this stretch and recommend making a “security call” on the VHF to check for any conflicting traffic before transiting. It would sound something like this: “Security, security, security, motor vessel BellaGatto northbound approaching the Rockpile, standing by on 13 and 16 for any concerned traffic”. So we did this, and got no reply. As we near the narrowest, scariest, part of the rockpile, what do I see but a big barge with a backhoe on it pushed by a tug coming right at us. Call on channel 13, no answer. Call on channel 16 (we are now within pistol shot) and raise him and agree to meet port to port. We do not quite swap paint, but it is a very close pass. Good times. Not too long after the Rockpile, we come to our final South Carolina stop, the Myrtle Beach Yacht Club.
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| High water on Waccamaw River while underway to Myrtle Beach |
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| Passing this barge on the one in the skinniest part of the rock pile. |
No securite communication from this guy
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| Watch out for jet skis and pirates in these here waters! |
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Leaving the Myrtle Beach Yacht Club for Southport, NC
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