Yesterday we decided to pay for a slip at the Maritime Center, having heard from our super-sea-going friend Diane that she'd been treated well by them. During her stay she'd been working with Outward Bound, and I imagine they let them stay no charge (?). We however, had to pay $50 for the night, and it turned out to be one of the roughest nights we've had. Their little harbor offers little in the way of protection, and Tri-oomph was regularly being pulled away and slammed back into the dock, regardless of how tight we tied her. We had adequte fenders so no damage done, but the motion was violently jarring. They did offer free showers, laundry, water, and a pump-out, though. We spent some time thoroughly scrubbing our boat yesterday, which has the same effect as giving your house a thorough cleaning complete with mopped floors. Which is to say, ahhhhh. The grocery store (in this case, a Harris Teeter - gotta love Southern grocery store titles) was only a few blocks away as well, so we resupplied. We had some gift shopping to take care of, as well, and the proximity of the marina to downtown made for a nice walk through the French Quarter, which we'd not yet seen. On the way back to the boat we stopped by the Southend Brewery for happy hour. A refreshing brew and the best-plate-of-bar-nachos-I've-ever-had later and we finished our steamy walk back to the boat.*
At some point in the midst of this we were paid a visit by a customs official. We'd raised our green head flag one of the days we were anchored and it had apparently caught their attention and it was believed that we were foreigners who hadn't declared with customs. Apparently a whimsical flag can net you a serious inquiry if you fly it at the wrong time. We explained ourselves (that NH tag is always a delicate subject, but that's another story) and he was very understanding. He actually gave us some really good infomation for when we return from the Bahamas. Customs is no joke. Sadly, it's a situation made infinitely easier due to white-person-priveledge, and I think it's difficult for us, or anyone who hasn't experienced it first-hand, to understand how much more challenging these things can be without said priveledge. But I digress.
Today was started with pancakes topped with South Carolina peaches and Ross's home-boiled New Hampshire maple syrup (without a question the very best there is) and followed by a steamy run along the waterfront. Our exercise has largely been restricted to lots of walking (once we reach port), yoga, and the rigors (whatever those are) of sailing, and it felt terrific to really get the heart rate up, even if I maxed out at 10 minute-mile pace between the heat and my boat-fitness. We did run up and down the stairs at the Custom building a couple times, though.
We are planning to depart Charleston tomorrow, but wanted one more relaxing evening, so we're anchored in a new-to-us spot near a sailing school. Little sailing-grommets keep going back and forth outside on little opti boats. It's incredibly adorable, even if they've almost run into us a couple times. Ah, who I am I kidding, those little kids are probably better sailers than I! At any rate, we're heading out onto the North Atlantic and bearing South again tomorrow, so the rest of today is going to be lazy.
*You know, it's only like, 85 degrees here, but we've been melting. My dad told me it was 105 in Chico yesterday. I'm not sure I could handle that. What ever happened to the meager heat tolerance I acquired in Reno? Damn you New England winters!
Docked at the Maritime Center.
Great name for a restaurant! ;)
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