The Great Dismal Swamp is a lovely place. Really. According
to Wikipedia, William Byrd II was leading a land survey in the area in 1728,
and he apparently had many not-so-nice things to say about his experience there. We have
him to thank for naming it the Dismal Swamp. In the years since, it has become
a National Wildlife Refuge, encompassing 112,000 acres of beautiful, forested
wetlands.
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| (from the Dismal Swamp Welcome Center website, October 30, 2017) |
The canal that cuts through the eastern edge of the swamp is
an alternative route of the ICW, connecting the Chesapeake Bay with the Albemarle
Sound in North Carolina. When we came down in the fall, the swamp canal had just
reopened after a year-long closure due to damage from hurricane Mathew. The
main route is called the Virginia Cut. It is also beautiful, but less wild, and
it stayed open after the hurricane for boats to travel down the ICW. We thought
we would be one of the lucky first vessels to go through the swamp after it re-opened,
but then we did some online research. The canal had been dredged and was safe to
traverse, but after so many months of inactivity, the surface of the water was
covered in a heavy carpet of duckweed. Looking like algae from a distance, up close
you can see that duckweed is actually made up of tiny leaves, making a thick
green soup. You can get an overheated engine if the stuff clogs your water
intake. The canal website showed scary pictures, and warned that the duckweed
was the worst they had ever seen it. Sadly, we chickened out and took the
Virginia Cut instead.
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| Duckweed |
Since then, we’ve met up with other cruisers who had taken
the Swamp route, and they all said that the duckweed was no big deal. Rick has
decided that the way our boat is configured, with the cooling water intake
mounted low on the hull and a good strainer on the water hose higher up, we
will be okay too. While we aren’t completely sure of the status of the duckweed
this spring, we’re determined not to miss out again on our way north.
Savannah
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| Walking tour with "Savannah Dan" |
Charleston
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| Magnolia Plantation |
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| Magnolia Plantation |
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| Awaiting dinner at Husk |
Myrtle Beach
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| Cyprus trees are KING in the low-country |
We’ve been steadily making our way up the ICW, stopping in
Savannah, Charleston, and Myrtle Beach, SC. Along the way, Rick has started a
driftwood-themed photography project:
Always the philosopher, Rick seems to be fascinated these days with death and decay. Very uplifting. He’s also been tempting fate by adding to his collection of
boat disaster photos. Thankfully, his conspicuous enjoyment in creating this
album of other peoples’ misfortunes has not resulted in any divine retribution
involving a disaster of our own. At least, not yet.
After spending the night just north of Elizabeth City, NC,
we are ready for our one-day trip up the Great Dismal Swamp Canal. As we head
out early in the morning, we can see that any lingering fears about the
duckweed are almost completely unfounded. After a winter of boating activity in
the canal, the surface of the water is beautifully clear and glassy, the only
duckweed relegated to the very edges of the canal. Everything is gloriously
still, and even with the sound of our engine, we can hear the birds calling to
one another.
We will encounter two locks today, one near the beginning
and the other at the end, the bookends of the canal. Having only gone through
one other lock aboard Valkyrie, last
fall in the Virginia Cut, we’re still excited about the whole lock experience,
and we don’t even try to hide our school-kid giddiness as we enter the area. We
are definitely not the only ones feeling this way. The powerboat directly ahead
of us is named Magic, and a member of
her crew yells out to us, “Isn’t this AWESOME?!!!”
The lockmaster corrals us into place on the port side, and
instructs us to hold on to our docking lines as the water rises. We will be
rising up about eight feet, and the lines will need to be tightened on the way
up. The lock gate closes behind us, and then water from the north side is
allowed to slowly drain in while we float gently upwards.
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| Just in case you were tempted... |
Once we have risen
enough to come even with the northern water level, the gate in front of us
opens, and we move off into the canal and past the draw bridge, one by one. As
we’re leaving, the lockmaster warns us, “Watch out, you may encounter some
kayaks or canoes up ahead.” Okay, no problem.
“Some kayaks or
canoes”????
It’s Paddle for the
Border, an event for over three hundred participating kayakers, canoers, and
paddle boarders, who are making their way along the Dismal Swamp Canal from South
Mills, NC to Chesapeake, VA, where they will join up for a picnic lunch.
This only happens one day out of the whole year, and lucky us, today’s the day!
We pick our way through the throng, Rick at the wheel, and me on the bow,
blowing Rick’s battered old moose horn to try and warn the paddlers of our
approach. I may be a trained musician, but I am no wind player. My calls on
this instrument sound more like a sick cow than a moose. But the people we pass
are very good-natured about it all, asking what the heck is making that noise,
and joking about hitching a ride with us.
The canal crosses the border between North Carolina and
Virginia, and there’s a great two-sided sign on the east bank, letting you know
which state you’re in. The Dismal Swamp Hotel was built on the west bank, completely
astride that state line, at about the time the canal opened in 1805. This
created some advantages for gamblers who frequented the place. If a sheriff
arrived, they would simply move to the opposite side of the room, across the
state line where the lawman had no jurisdiction. Sounds like a fun place, but sadly,
that hotel no longer exists.
As we passed through the thicket of kayaks and canoes at
their lunch spot turn-off landing, we promised to join them again next year, but
hopefully on kayaks. Registration for the Paddle starts in January, and we were
warned that it fills up fast, so if you’d like to meet us there, mark it down
in your calendar!
We had the canal to ourselves once again, and it was smooth
sailing (or motoring) up to the last lock. Then we re-entered the Chesapeake
for the first time since last November. After anchoring in Portsmouth, VA, just
south of Norfolk, we stole ashore for a celebratory dinner at the marina. It
feels good to be almost home.
