Georgetown, SC

As we departed Georgetown this morning the sun was peeking over the tree tops, a blue heron, brilliantly juxtaposed against the colorful backdrop of autumn leaves, silently stalked a silvery tidbit as an immature Bald Eagle kept a wary watch.  Mist was rising from the glistening surface of the water, an old wooden shrimp boat lumbered past us as the outriggers unfurled.

Pelicans glide over the bow and commence a surface glide, skimming the tops of the sea chop.  We are in an Audubon paradise where vacant osprey nests claim many of the double-sided tops of channel markers rendering the distinctive apex of the red impossible to discern, there-by making navigation more of a challenge.  Marsh hawks with their distinctive flap, flap, glide pattern of flight survey the endless miles of marsh that is uninhabited by man, yet it displays the remnants of the slave-designed and built flood gates that once were integral to the huge wealthy plantations so prolific before the Civil War.  Bald Eagles glide in circles, blue herons sprout at the edge of the marsh as sentries of the shore as nearby oystercatchers probe the mud,  gaggles of Great White Egrets skim the marsh tops, cormorants hang their wings out to dry, and the occasional bottlenose dolphin gracefully swims by tantalized by riding our bow wave.

Yesterday Kurt brought us through the infamous "Rock Pile," a 19 mile long stretch of canal that was cut (blasted) through Cretaceous limestone that is 65-144 million years old, formed at the end of the dinosaur age.  Because the rock was such a challenge, the engineers who built it in the early 1930s, continued to commensurately narrow the channel making it a challenge for boaters to safely navigate.   Last spring, we met a couple on a trawler who had damaged their hull and props, this year we were told about the 40' catamaran that yesterday sank after putting a hole in one hull.  This cruising adventure requires due diligence, I'm grateful that so far as I have spent too long gazing at the flora and fauna that I have not run us aground.

Our last night in North Carolina found us at  Carolina Beach, Joyner Marina and afforded us a long walk on the full-moon-lit ocean shore where intrepid shorebirds (barely visible) fed in the surf line, scurrying about gobbling tiny tidbits.  This area of beach is available to off road vehicles so the beachfront is decorated with the occasional tent, campfire, fisherman; we ambled up to chat with a couple of "locals" sitting around a camp fire only to discover that they were transplants from Long Island:)

Casper Marina in SC provided for cheap diesel fuel (oxymoron) at $3.60 a gal (including tax).  We loaded up with 576 gals that will see us through the Bahamas and FL Keys and back to Casper for a fill-up.  The sun and cloud cover conspired to put on an unparalleled display of fuchsia, crimson, and gold reflected off the clouds and water.

A delicious dinner of shrimp and grits, washed down with a Cosmo at Snooky's rounded out a perfect day.