From the Captain 

Down through North Carolina

October 17. Norfolk, VA to Great Dismal Swamp Visitors' Center, North Carolina. 24.8 nm

The Dismal Swamp is neither. To a mariner, it is a very pleasant canal, 30 miles long, about wide enough for two boats, 7-10 feet deep, that connects the Elizabeth River in Norfolk with Pamlico Sound in North Carolina. George Washington figured in the development of the canal. Dozier's Cruising Guide for the Atlantic ICW, a standard reference for cruisers, tells us that he and several businessmen bought the swamp in 1763 thinking to drain it and harvest the virgin-growth cypress trees for boat building. He designed the canal and supervised its building. He eventually sold his interest, and the last old growth tree was removed in the 1950's. The area is now the 40,000-acre Great Dismal Swamp National Wildlife Refuge. We saw a couple of turtles on the way.

The ride was slow and pleasant, a calm, mostly straight waterway through dense woodland. If we were in Vermont and if Luna were a canoe, motoring on the canal would be like paddling up Lewis Creek from the lake toward Route 7. The Army Corps of Engineers is responsible for maintaining the canal, and at least once a year clear debris and trim overhanging limbs to allow safe passage by the tall-masted sailboats. By our observation, they are doing a good job.

There was some drama in choosing the swamp route. There are two ways to go. The Virginia Cut is deeper, has only one lock, and is quicker. The Dismal Swamp is more scenic but slower with two locks and two drawbridges. There has been much activity on cruising web sites such as Active Captain and various blogs talking about a thick growth of duckweed on the water. This can get into the cooling system of boat engines and cause dangerous overheating. We also heard the canal was very crowded with boats heading south.

About a dozen boats wait at a drawbridge at the start of the intracoastal waterway. Opening is at 9:30 am. We are there, drifting. Past the bridge, the route divides, and the Dismal Swamp route turns off to the right. Nine boats go straight. We turn right. We have inside knowledge. Nancy, the organizer, the retired elementary school principal, has called the first lock keeper to get the inside story. "It's not so bad," he says. "Two sailboats have just gone through, and they had no problem. It's not as crowded as it was this weekend. I think you'll be fine. (But don't quote me.)"

Luna idles in duckweed

We motor through some duckweed, but, it's not so bad. No engine trouble. The canal is not crowded. There are 6 boats in a line heading south from the first lock.

At mile 25, we pass from Virginia into North Carolina. Interestingly, the guidebook notes that the Halfway Hotel used to sit in the Great Dismal Swamp at this point. It is said that Edgar Allen Poe wrote The Raven here.

At mile 28, we reach the visitor center, which has a long dock to the east of the canal. Otherwise, it's a highway rest area on highway 17 and the site of a state park. There are bathrooms, an information office, and a nature trail. There is internet access. Boats are welcomed to stay the night, and nine of us raft up, three abreast, along the quay.

The largest boat is a huge ocean-going sailing catamaran, Umineko, and it is 24 feet wide and 43 feet long. The captain and owner introduces himself as Sato, who is the first Japanese to sail around the world in a catamaran. He has a mate with him, and in New York City took on a young woman, Sally, as the cook. She is writing a food blog called Sally in the Galley (sallyinthegalley.net). She makes cookies for her crew and some extra for us.

Rafted up at the Dismal Swamp Visitors' Center

One of the raftees has been here for 4 days. He is the source of the blog activity about the duckweed. His sailboat's cooling system was plugged by duckweed earlier in the week, and it ruined his exhaust. He is waiting for a part to fix the problem and hopes his engine survived the severe overheating. The rest of us retire to our boats and check the strainers: part of the water intake on the bottom of the hull that keeps debris out of the water pump. Sure enough, each of us, including Luna, has some duckweed in the filters.

October 18. Dismal Swamp Visitors' Center to Elizabeth City, NC. 20 nm.

Most of the boats docked at the Visitor's Center left early, we among them. Luna's engine is running a bit cooler since I cleaned out the strainer. With the rising sun before us, the fall colors of the trees along the canal stand out. No reds as in New England, but lovely pale greens, some rust and yellows. The sun lights up the water ahead, the trees and water and sky narrowing to a vanishing point in the distance. It's like a class in perspective drawing at the Hudson River School.

Dismal Swamp Canal

The water is brown here, the result we're told, of the tannins released by the decaying vegetation of the Dismal Swamp.

We waited 4 miles down the canal for the drawbridge and lock to open to bring us down to river level. This is not the crisp lock operation of the Champlain Canal. The process is slow. The lock keeper drives over to the drawbridge and raises it on schedule (8:30 am). Six of us pass. Then he returns to the lock, opens the gate, and helps each boat put their lines along the wall of the canal. He closes the gates behind the boats, drains the water out, and opens the gates in front. The process takes about 45 minutes.

The parade resumes down the rest of the canal and into the Pasquotank River. Five of us stop at

Elizabeth City. A friendly place

Elizabeth City, where the town maintains free slips for transient boaters. A greeter comes, helps us fix our lines and talks about the city. Elizabeth City, at the head of the Dismal Swamp Canal, figured heavily in the shipping industry early on. Goods from the lower Carolinas made their way through here to Norfolk. Lumber was a major product. It seems like a friendly place.

We have an excellent and surprisingly economical lunch at Quality Seafoods, recommended by the greeter. The commander has an excellent fried oyster sandwich, and I have a chopped pork sandwich. We can also buy some seafood for dinner there. We walk a mile and a half down to the Food Lion supermarket and stock up on some provisions.

Traveling through the Dismal Swamp, the commander thinks the air just smells different in a nice way, and she associates this with being in the South. I'm not so sure. I think it could be the rising tide of southern barbecue wafting northward on the southern breeze.

October 19. Elizabeth City to Manteo, NC 38.5nm. 

The day started with a drizzle and a fairly strong wind from the east. The guidebook warns that the shallow Albemarle Sound, to which we are headed, can kick up a big chop in windy conditions. There is some debate among the transient residents of the city dock, and we decide it is time for Luna to go.

On the charts and on the GPS, the Intracoastal Waterway shows up as a magenta line. It leads from Elizabeth City, into the sound, and turns south down the Alligator River. We see our friends following in the distance, and at some point they turn south toward the river. They are following the magenta line. We hail them on the VHF radio to say good bye and fair seas. And we continue east. We are on the road less travelled toward the outer banks of the Hatteras National Seashore. Our destination for the day is the small town of Manteo, on Roanoke Island.

We are meeting our old friend, Joanie Alexander, there. She has gotten a ride over from her house in Hiillsborough, and by mutual agreement, we will shanghai her into the crew of Luna for a few days as we travel down the sound to Ocracoke Island and Beaufort. She's done some shopping for us at Trader Joe's on the way over.

The other reason I'd like to stay in the sound instead of travel down the river is that we can sail in the sound. Traveling slowly under motor power is OK, but Luna is really a fish out of water under motor and prefers to sail. As do we. Approaching Roanoke Island, we found the water lost its tea-brown tint and saw our first dolphin. Just off to starboard, its dorsal fin surfaced twice and then quickly receded. The air smelled of fish briefly.

Joanie is an old friend from the young days of our family when we were all building houses in East

Joanie joins us in Manteo

Charlotte. It's fitting to meet her in Manteo, which is the site of the oldest known English settlement in the New World. Sir Walter Raleigh and his associates disembarked a ship load of 120 colonists on Roanoke Island in 1587. The first English baby of the new world, Virginia Dare, was born here in the same year. Three years later, when a supply ship finally returned, there was no trace of the colony or the colonists. Speculation around the fate of the lost colony persists today. The town is cute and welcoming with a historical museum right across the harbor from us and the downtown area only a block away.

We spend the night at the Manteo Waterfront Marina, hospitably greeted by George Barr, whom we call on the VHF radio. He directs us along the narrow entrance channel and meets us at the dock to help with our lines. It turns out he graduated from Middlebury College. He was the goalie for the soccer team that included Vermont artist Woody Jackson, to whom he wishes us to express greetings.

We met Joanie and her friend, Steven, and had dinner at a local brew pub, the Full Moon. There seems to be little appetite for punning in the South. People seem more straight forward. In Boston, this might be called Brew Moon. The commander and I had plates of shrimp and grits. Once back at the boat, we listened to the end of the Red Sox on audio streamed from our telephone.

Joanie's friend has a business selling and installing photovoltaic panels. He says the industry is booming in North Carolina, owing to generous state and federal tax credits and, in no small measure, to the amount of sunshine residents receive.

October 20. Manteo, NC.

Today was a different experience. For the first time since New York City, we take a day off. We're at

Walking on the Hatteras National Seashore

Manteo just for the fun of being here. We're not here on the way to somewhere else or waiting out the weather. We're tourists. We drive out to the Hatteras National Seashore in the morning for a walk on the beach. We do some shopping. In the afternoon, we walk over to the historical museum across the way. One of the museum actors, who plays a carpenter in the original colony, shares his opinion that the lost colonists left the area and joined the Croatan Indians down near Cape Hatteras.

There is a nice, quiet pace here. We are off the magenta line,  and it is off-season. The marina sits at the city's waterfront park, and people stroll along the boardwalk at the head of the docks. The marina itself is uncrowded. We kick back and relax. No boat projects either.

George, from the marina, goes over the nautical chart of the area and directs us to an anchorage between here and Ocracoke. We'll set out in the morning.

What is the air speed velocity of a fully laden swallow?