Location: Wright River, almost in Savannah, GA
Position: N 32 04.304 W 080 55.074
We wake up Sunday morning, put on the coffee, and get ready to leave Beaufort. We turn on the VHF radio and are met with a “dense fog advisory” for the entire coast that continues into the afternoon, along with a warning in an actual human voice to stay in port if possible. It seems that fog allowing “at times zero visibility” is rolling in off the ocean this morning and is working its way inland. We remember that every cloud has a silver lining and decide it’ll be fun to go back to town for the on-land Christmas Parade in the afternoon.
We spend a leisurely morning on Rachel waiting for the fog. La-la-la no fog. Finally at 11 am we decide there isn’t going to be any fog. Julie wants to get going! We have weighed the pros and cons of “going outside” (out into the Atlantic) to bypass the shallow Georgia section of the waterway. Even though we really want to go outside for our next leg (and do some sailing, for goodness sake!), the coastal fog advisories out as far as 20 miles for the next few days help us decide to stay on the ICW. We certainly don’t want to get stuck in fog on the ocean if we don’t have to. Besides, friends have told us some of the prettiest sections of the waterway are along this route; here comes that whole ‘silver lining’ thing again.
The day is warm and sunny and we have an uneventful trip almost into Georgia. We pass only one tricky shallow spot without mishap and finally drop anchor in the Wright River, just off the New River, coincidentally the same name as the river back home in Radford, though no relation, we’re sure. For the next hundred miles or so we’ll be busy negotiating some of the shallowest spots on the ICW. The high tides getting later in the mornings will be very helpful, as long as we don’t get fogged in.
....so here it is, Monday morning. And the fog has really rolled in. We sit at anchor impatiently popping our heads up every 5 minutes, waiting for the fog to dissipate so we can get on our way through the next tricky bit before the tide is too low for us to make the attempt.
Feeling all dressed up with nowhere to go,