Little River to Waccamaw River, SC

29.1 nm
Wind: S 15-20 knots
Maximum speed: 5.2 knots
Average speed: 3.6 knots
Latitude: 33°40.40’N
Longitude: 079°03.91’W

We’ve just anchored at a lovely anchorage, another National Wildlife Refuge. All day today we came through Myrtle Beach, a horror of Spanish-style McMansions, waterfront condos, and golf-course retirement communities built right up to the edge of the ICW, piled up on top of what used to be wetlands. So it was a huge relief to come out of it, right at dusk, into some kind of mangrove grove covered in Spanish moss. We pulled into the anchorage recommended by Skipper Bob as the light was failing, and were a little surprised to find ourselves in a meandering river, with little rivulets running through the water-logged trees, trees and moss all gray in the dim light. We could be hundreds of miles from the nearest civilization if it wasn’t for the channel marker around the corner.

It’s a little bit spooky, actually, and I think much more promising for the gators. Although Karl may have worn out his fervor for the gator hunt.

There’s not much to say about the day. I cleaned the floor, again, which got dirty right away, we motored down the little canal and had bridges open for us and tried to avoid the shoaling. That’s basically what the ICW is.

It’s pretty cool, though, the contrasts in our life. Two days ago we were on the high seas, surrounded by dolphins (who didn’t make an appearance today, and no wonder—I’d stay as far from Myrtle Beach as I could, too, if I were them) and today we’re anchored in complete calm and silence in the middle of a Southern swamp. Karl’s making dinner from the ship’s stores, since our fresh food and ice is long gone. It’s a good little life we have.