No, it's not Wheel of Fortune. Yes, that's a category, but this is what we have been doing for the last thirty two and one half hours.
We left Charleston Tuesday morning at 06:00, and traveled from Charleston SC, to Beaufort (bofort) NC out in the Atlantic. It was a beautiful, clear, calm day on the ocean, and it stayed that way the whole time we were out.
We are on auto pilot the whole time, so it's just a matter of one of us being on watch, and most of the time both of us are on the fly bridge, along with Cassie and Godiva, watching for other boats and ships, watching the birds, dolphin, flying fish, other fish feeding on the surface, listening to music, doing engine room checks, and just enjoying a beautiful day on the water.
Nighttime is another story. After sunset, things go totally dark, and the only things we see are the plotter, radar, and all the other instruments. Because there was no moon, and no other lights, I turn off the running lights, step outside, and the stars look like you could reach out and touch them. Years ago, when we did this for the first time, it was a little unnerving when the sun went down, it went totally dark, and we couldn't see anything but the instruments. After the initial shock of being in total darkness, we settled in, and it was another new experience in our cruising life.
Through the night, we take turns on watch. We don't set a schedule, and it just seems to work out.
Thirty-two and a half hours, and 247 nautical miles, we arrived at our marina.
September Song (call us crazy) out
Our view as we headed into the Atlantic from Charleston on a calm, clear, beautiful day.
We left Charleston Tuesday morning at 06:00, and traveled from Charleston SC, to Beaufort (bofort) NC out in the Atlantic. It was a beautiful, clear, calm day on the ocean, and it stayed that way the whole time we were out.
We are on auto pilot the whole time, so it's just a matter of one of us being on watch, and most of the time both of us are on the fly bridge, along with Cassie and Godiva, watching for other boats and ships, watching the birds, dolphin, flying fish, other fish feeding on the surface, listening to music, doing engine room checks, and just enjoying a beautiful day on the water.
Nighttime is another story. After sunset, things go totally dark, and the only things we see are the plotter, radar, and all the other instruments. Because there was no moon, and no other lights, I turn off the running lights, step outside, and the stars look like you could reach out and touch them. Years ago, when we did this for the first time, it was a little unnerving when the sun went down, it went totally dark, and we couldn't see anything but the instruments. After the initial shock of being in total darkness, we settled in, and it was another new experience in our cruising life.
Through the night, we take turns on watch. We don't set a schedule, and it just seems to work out.
Thirty-two and a half hours, and 247 nautical miles, we arrived at our marina.
September Song (call us crazy) out
Our view as we headed into the Atlantic from Charleston on a calm, clear, beautiful day.
It just doesn't get any better than this on the Atlantic.
Sunset, as we push forward into the dark for the next nine hours. Still calm.
This is what we see when there is no moon. It really gets dark out here, but still calm.
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