Pamlico Sound and Ocracoke Island
Ocracoke Island is a gem along the Outer Banks of North Carolina. We had so looked forward to visiting the Silver Lake harbor and relaxing somewhere along its miles of pristine beaches. The day started out with an absence of wind which required us to hoist the iron sail (nautical slang for starting the diesel engine) but the wind eventually climbed significantly into the low 20’s. I reefed the main sail but was dismayed when one of the lazy jacks broke and the main sail plopped out of the sail cover and lay on the foredeck. Donning my tether which would keep me from being washed overboard, I went forward and lashed the sail to the boom. We continued on and, as we neared the entrance to the harbor, we hailed the skipper of a commercial ferry and signaled that we intended to follow his vessel into the harbor along a twisting water way with threatening shoals. The ferry skipper was pleased that we were using VHF radio to communicate and led the way past the floating markers. Once inside the harbor, it was calm so we relaxed and dropped the hook. Another day of periods of some boredom punctuated by moments of terror as we sought to keep Fantasea under control in strong winds and shallow seas.
The next day on Ocracoke we rented bicycles and rode for miles to reach a beach where we thought to enjoy a secluded afternoon. Not so because the beach was closed because of nesting birds and turtles and the high winds made for a less than idyllic day that we had planned.
The next day we weighed anchor and set out to reach the outer entrance to the channel before the commercial ferry would require us to give way and risk running aground outside the marked channel. We made it just in time and proceeded northwest under power for another 30 minutes before we hoisted our sails and, for the next four hours, enjoyed the best sailing of our entire trip in the Pamlico Sound of North Carolina.
Aloft at Belhaven
One of the consequences of the lazy jack line breaking, is that it required someone to be hoisted up the mast to retrieve the line that had receded into the upper spreader. Cindy was not keen to tackle this project so it fell to me to be hoisted up via winch to the 47’ above the foredeck. I had done this before though not aboard the Fantasea and it was with constant prayer that I ascended the mast. The picture seen here was of me at the lower spreader because when I thought to have Cindy photograph the moment, I had descended to that level and opted not to go aloft again just for a cool pic.
Ron and Cindy's Odyssea 