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Georgia
Coasting, page 1:
Anne,
my wife of 22 years, was not sure she would be able to sleep
in the tiny
cabin on our Drascombe Coaster. She said so many times,
so I bribed her with a trip to the Lodge at Little Saint Simons
Island. We arrived at Darien, Georgia on Friday 10/18/02 at sunset,
ate too salty shrimp at Archies and launched by street light and
moonlight between shrimp boats at the public ramp. I moved the
car and bought ice while Anne stayed with the boat. Darien had
a sleepy, rich character that night. The convenience store crowd
was a window into the neighborhood. The tabby ruins
on the waterfront looked ancient in the half-light. A man with
an incredible Gullah
accent asked Anne, “was she all right”, said, “holler
if she needed anything”; demonstrated how to holler, and
then went to sleep in a shrimp boat. Cats prowled around the boat
ramp.
We rigged the battery lights and squinting past them we dodged
crab pot floats and motored west up that minor arm of the Altamaha
against gentle current. We spotted a narrow creek (aerial
photo of creek; see note about Terraserver's aerial photos at the
end of the article), actually
an old rice plantation canal on the left in the northeast bank of
General’s Island just before Cathead Creek branches off
to the east. (N 31æ22.063´ W 81æ26.692). Up the canal I
swung around and anchored stern and bow in gentle current in
about five
or six feet of water after finding a depth of thirty feet at
the mouth of the rice canal. We were tired and we were centered
between
I-95 which steadily roared to windward, and the occasional cars
ticking off expansion joints on the US 17 bridge. It wasn’t
exactly wilderness but we were glad to be there. We got our boat
set up snug in the marshes, set the backboards and dodger and
floated cozily between walls of smooth cordgrass that slowly
grew taller
as the tide ebbed and the moon rose.
We had a drink, talked, watched the moon, crawled in our soft
berths at midnight
and slept in the cool marsh air.
ABOVE: Map of the Hall's route. Click to enlarge. — Map by
© H. Bird, 2003
I have done several things to the boat that I like. I made plywood
backboards that set up easily against the cockpit coaming. They allow sailing
and they stow
under the berth cushions when necessary, which is seldom. With a simple tiller
extension I can sail in steady winds in near total relaxation. No more back fatigue
after two hours. The oars were too short and lightweight for steering or effective
rowing and the cabin makes for blind rowing unless you stand and face forward
so I built a steering/ sculling oar which allows sailing in very shallow water,
poling, aids beaching, and can actually make a couple of knots sculling. It rides
in the modified stern oarlock at the ready. I didn’t know how valuable
it could be until I forgot the rudder on a trip to the Gulf!
The Drascombe rudder is a finely balanced control surface when in the water,
but it has to be raised and stowed quickly. It is heavy. It will pinch you. I
made a forked wooden chock that fits around the raised rudder blade under the
lower end of the shaft. It has a peg on the bottom that fits into the shaft hole
in the rudder case. The top of the chock is angled to lean the shaft and tiller
back against the mizzen mast where it can be strapped. This allows me to quickly
raise and secure the rudder from a seated position. To stow the chock I toss
it into the motor well where a wood strip mounted under the transom prevents
it falling out. I framed a connection between the berths forward of the centerboard
case and had a matching cushion made. This gives a single person a wider berth
and facilitates getting dressed and moving around in the cabin. It gives two
people a chance to snuggle.
I built a canvas dodger proportioned with the Coaster drawings
from the internet. It is great to shelter the hatch in case of
rain, a good windbreak and sunshade.
I haven’t put the vinyl windows in yet and may not. I have a cockpit tent
for extended rains, a modified plastic tarp, lightweight and okay to put away
wet. It stretches tight over fiberglass tent poles and a line between the masts.
The tented cockpit looks like a conestoga wagon with the walls arching outward
and up behind the backboards. I can get to the bow by opening the front of the
tent. I keep clothing and bedding in canoeing drybags and toss them and the food
box in the cockpit at night.
The Chimp bilge pumps have died. I rebuilt one, but the plastic is old and cracked
and the rebuild lasted a couple of months. I carry a tube pump I had for my whitewater
canoe that actually moves the water faster. I am considering an electrical system,
a spotlight would be nice.
We were awakened by redwing blackbirds at 8:30. Interstate 95 continued its frantic
hurry upwind. Coffee. Then homemade granola and yogurt.
ABOVE: Morning in the rice canal. — Photo by Anne Hall
Anne was in good spirits having slept well in a beautiful place. She found more
room than she expected in the cabin. Hauled anchors, cranked the Honda five horse
and broke a shear pin. We drifted against the cordgrass and I kneeled on the
stern deck and pulled the propellor. The pin had broken in the center, not sheared.
It was the second time this had happened so I installed the spare prop I bought
after dinging the original. We headed downstream, back by the boat ramp, under
the bridge, past the big fishing boats and the huge haulout at George’s
Boatyard and then south through the narrow and deep Generals Cut.
Continued on page 2...
ABOVE: The docks at Darien. — Photo by Anne Hall
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