Winyah Bay, South Carolina

We had a relaxing day yesterday, just doing small things on the boat. We did not go out in the kayak to look for alligators (which we encountered the last time we were here three years ago) because there has been quite a bit of chop, wind and current. Although the bay is tidal, with a four foot difference between low and high, we have not seen much variation in the water level. Winyah Bay, the fourth largest estuary on the U.S. Atlantic coast, is fed by four rivers--the Waccamaw, the Pee Dee, the Black and the Sampit. These streams are all called blackwater rivers because they flow through swamps, wetlands, and forests that are rich with decaying vegetation and other organic matter. Apparently, there has recently been heavy rain in the lowlands of South Carolina, because the cloudy water in the bay is heavily stained greenish brown, much more so than the last time we anchored here. According to online sources, blackwater holds an interesting place in maritime history in this region. In the early years of European exploration and colonization of North America, mariners sought out blackwater streams to refill their casks because the water was thought to minimize the spread of disease. Sailors did not know why at the time, but the high acidity and presence of certain phenols have anti-bacterial properties. Still, I wouldn't drink it! And it does stain. I don't know what the hull of the boat looks like after being here a couple days, but I do know that when we use the bay water to flush the toilet rather than the pristine water in the tank from the Bahamas, it immediately and distinctly colors the porcelain bowl.

Although in American history, U.S. students learn that the first enslaved people from Africa were brought to the colonies in 1619 (in Virginia), slavery in what became the British colonies actually began on August 9, 1526 (5 years after the Spanish landed here for the first time), when Lucas Vázquez de Ayllón brought 600 colonists to start a colony. Records say the colonists included enslaved Africans, although the number is not recorded.

This area is also historically and culturally significant because it is the home of the Gullah-Geechee people, the descendants of West and Central Africans who were enslaved and bought to the lower Atlantic states of North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia and Florida to work on the coastal rice, Sea Island cotton and indigo plantations. Because their enslavement was on isolated coastal plantations as well as barrier islands, they were able to retain many of their indigenous African traditions. After the abolition of slavery in the U.S., Gullah-Geechee people settled in remote villages along the coast, where, thanks to their relative isolation, they formed strong communal ties and a unique culture that has endured for centuries. This culture is reflected in their food, arts and crafts, and spiritual traditions. They also developed their own distinctive language, Gullah, a creole language spoken nowhere else in the world. Today, most of the Gullah-Geechee live on barrier islands along the coast.Late in the afternoon yesterday, the National Weather Service sent out an extreme weather alert for thunderstorms moving quickly from the South Carolina mainland southeast over the ocean, with 20-25 mph winds and higher gusts as well as lightning. We had spent some of the afternoon relaxing on deck, but with the announcement, I moved my books, computer and embroidery work down below. Then, we waited for the weather. Clear blue skies disappeared an enormous cloud formation pushed to the southeast. North of us, another storm cell took on the appearance of a glowing mushroom cloud in pastel colors. The storms skirted around us. Significant rain would have been welcomed since the exterior is coated with salt from waves on the ocean, but there was none. The changing shapes and colors provided another spectacular evening of sky watching. 

Clouds moving in from the northwest to obscure the blue sky

Amazing cloud formation and coloration to the east

Just before sunset

And a few minutes later

Right after sunset, we close up the hatches or put in screens because of mosquitoes. In the daytime, there are large horse flies, but they stay outside, mostly under the bimini, and really do not bother us. 

Today, Peter made adjustments to the autopilot. (If he is not tinkering, then he is thinking about ways to tinker.) After using up most of the refrigerated vegetables for pasta prima vera for lunch, I made a large pasta salad with marinated artichoke hearts, sundried tomatoes, carrots and pesto. Also, I cut up the remaining carrots for dipping and made a dip with ranch dressing and soft cream cheese. There are already egg salad sandwiches made for Peter, and I will put together some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for me this evening. I think that in terms of food, we are better prepared than we have been for another grueling passage. (Actually, the conditions should be fine, although the 4 foot predicted wave height is not what I would like--zero is what I would like!) Our plan is to depart at 7 a.m. tomorrow and make it to the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay by late afternoon on Saturday. That entails two whole nights of sailing, which is about a night and a half beyond my limit. 

Our friend Shalako had contacted Peter when we were in Lucaya about coming aboard as crew, and we would have gladly and enthusiasticly welcomed him, but we were leaving the next day. Out on the open seas during the last two short passages, I have thought that we should have spared no expense in flying him to Freeport immediately, and then he and Peter could have sailed to the Chesapeake and I could have spent a few more days with Paula in the Bahamas. As it turns out, that probably would not have worked for long, because Paula fell while line dancing with friends a couple nights ago and broke her elbow in two places. She had to cut her vacation short and is now on her way home to San Francisco. 

Right now, the north wind is blowing 15-20 knots and there is some fetch across the bay (We are on the south side.), but we have read that the holding for anchors is not good along North Island, so we are staying put for the night, even though the wind is creating whitecapped one-foot waves and the current is ripping by at three knots. 

Current passing the stern

Winyah Bay with whitecaps