Three ibises precariously landed on the rope railing of the dock as I arrived at the landing. They were facing into the wind already blowing, quite unlike my last sail in early May where I half sailed, half drifted to the Northeast Point of Bull Island. I was on a mission that May day; on this day I was just up for a summer sail out to the same point.
After a little windward work to get Kingfisher in proper trim and order, I bore off to head out Andersonville Creek. There was plenty of wind for rapid progress through the creeks, and at the opening to the Bay my course was on Kingfisher’s fastest point of sail. This place had an imaginary dividing line: astern the mainland became more distant, and ahead a bay and an island were inviting.
I gradually picked up onto a plane, effortlessly, with spray shooting off the hull. When encountering the longer fetch of waves from Bull Creek I surfed along these swells – this was fine, glorious sailing. One outboard was anchored near the point, and I came in easily onto that sandy shore.
I had arrived at close to high tide and stepped off in the shallow water into soft deep sand. With no island adventure planned, I left the sail up, lingered by the boat, and dove into the warm waters. I looked off but could not find the small bird nesting isle to the northeast. Trying again with binoculars, I picked out some pelicans but little island underneath them. I wondered at the current viability of that place for the black skimmers and other nesting birds that have used the sandy islet in recent nesting seasons.
The anchored outboard got underway and roared across the choppy bay as I began my sail on the same course. Kingfisher was now meeting the larger swells coming out of Bull Creek at a different angle from earlier. I was no longer surfing but riding over and crashing through, immersing me in the warm water. It reminded me of many past summer sails in fresh sea breezes on warm Carolina waters in the small swift craft I preferred. The wind speed was probably a steady fifteen knots, though an occasional gust dipped the trailing edge of the boom into the water before I restored trim. This was not a gentle, relaxed sail home – no thrash to windward (fortunately) but a hard sail pushing the limits of this aging mariner. I appreciated the moderating of the wave height as I plunged forward closer to the mouth of the creek, using one of the TV towers in the distance as a navigation aid.
It remained fast sailing coming out of the Bay and past a point where many birds roosted. As I sighted ahead for my next course change through the creeks, a motor noise – no outboard – began a long crescendo. The sound was definitely helicopter, approaching from the northeast, but my sail position did not allow me to view the aircraft. The noise continued to grow, ominously, and a hundred of those roosting birds took off in alarm. Without a view of the helicopter I was also alarmed, anxiety growing with the approaching high-decibel roar. No, there was not one but five southbound military helicopters flying in formation. They appeared off my bow, clearly not troubling my sail height but still at a low elevation. I assumed they were Marine helicopters heading to the Marine Corps Air Station at Beaufort. As their motor sound faded to the south, I continued the return passage through the creeks and marsh, and observed the flight of birds magnificent but silent.
Silence is golden ! 🙂 glad you got in a short but pleasant sail… !
Glad that roar is not daily, but episodic
Used the picture of sailboat as my new screen background, lovely, serene.
Yes have at it
Love the pictures!
Sorry I didn’t get a photo of the Marine helicopters – my hands were full.
Glad you got out in the surf! I am envious as we have been protecting Brantley’s healing to allow for more fun later after he is fully healed. Hope you get many more of these summer sails in the coming weeks!
Got some healing to do too, and PT
Loud helicopters must have been an unwelcome jolt after that peace on the beach.
Sailing through Anderson creek, surfing the swells and the saltwater swim, I could feel summer! Thank you for sharing and being the one to do it and relay back. Still, we need to get out there but I don’t mind living vicariously sometimes. You’re something else…
Hope to have some more summer sails.
Hi Bob – Any chance you’re describing a day the week of July 15th? While in HHI, there were 5 military helicopters flying together way off the coast. Wonder if they were the same ones you saw? All the best to you and Susan!
No Kim, my sail was the following week, but possibly your sighting was of the same helicopters going south from their base past Hilton Head. As I recounted, the five I saw were flying fairly low over the marshes of Cape Romain National Wildlife Refuge, and had a clear “shot” of me sailing below. Wish they had shared their photos of Kingfisher.