To Beet Island

Beez Neez
Skipper and First Mate Millard (Big Bear and Pepe)
Tue 10 Jan 2012 23:58
To Beet Island, South Carolina
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We pulled off the dock at eight thirty this morning on a beautiful sunny day, once again it would have been easy to stay another week or so. Mentally we know we only have six or seven stops and eight weeks to do them – so easy to fall into a simple and restful routine – bimble, shop, explore, laundry, chores, games. I rolled over in bed this morning and told the captain just how little I would be bothered if he cancelled the day unless he hoofed me out of my pit, consider me hoofed.
We timed our departure for our first opening bridge just around the corner at nine o’clock. As we were waiting on the spot for the good lady to press the button, we saw an osprey actually trying out her nest, scuffing a few twigs  – a real wise owl allocation. I raised the camera and as I pressed she took off as this much bigger bird went over, the noise was awesome.

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A while later this is what we saw




This is the very picture I put on the blog en route to Charleston on the 9th of May and had called her a ‘sad girl’


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Now clearly abandoned forever – now an ‘extremely sad girl’


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This girl was in exactly the same spot and condition as before and something we don’t see very often........


BF to Beet Island 033  BF to Beet Island 034 heck of a clunk to get the ball on the fairway, if not – ‘plop’


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A bluebottle tree !!!!


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The noise from this rally in the distance was quite something


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How could we forget this shipyard from our journey north


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This time the workers were busy with service girls


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We followed this chap to a fork in the river to anchor in total silence, “smashing Gromit”


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We have had a bit of everything on todays thirty mile journey; an opening bridge, memories from our journey north in really deep water, to just having enough below us to potter along. Tide with us and racing along at seven and half knots with the engine ticking at twelve hundred revs to fighting uphill against the current at three and a bits knots with the engine up at just under two thousand revs. During one of Bear’s shifts he took a picture of a red marker (we keep it to our right), but not too close as it was in very little water. I found a green marker to anchor next to. Mmmmmm, perhaps this is a reason we don’t fancy any journeys on the ICW at night. “Oh, just go between the flashing lights” – we’ll take their word for it, but we don’t think we could manage to get behind green marker 177, somehow.