Kathryn’s Voyage Blog

Publish Date: Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Location: Beaufort, South Carolina
Coordinates: 32° 25.660′ N  80° 40.982′ W

I had a blog half written about Ayla and me in Boulder, and our reflections upon returning to the boat. However, my outing yesterday was both so typical and atypical of a cruiser’s life that I just had to share with you.

The day dawned with gray skies. The low gray clouds were to keep us company all day in preparation for larger rains anticipated for late evening continuing into today and even tomorrow (think inches of rain expected). As long as we are securely at anchor, days like this are welcomed by the crew as a chance to get things done around the boat. Ayla was busy doing double-sessions of school to make up for our time in Boulder, and Dave and I were busy planning routes and next steps for our voyage.

I received a call from my doctor’s office in Boulder sharing with me the results of some blood tests I had done during our visit home. Everything looked great except for one number which seemed considerably out of whack. The consensus was it was probably just a false reading, but to be sure they asked that I find a lab close by and have the blood work redone.  With the amount of rain expected for the next several days, I decided it would be best to get this out of the way sooner than later. One must remember this isn’t a quick hop in the car and back to your normal doctor — we are at anchor in Beaufort, South Carolina!

In this situation, the process begins with a finding an “in-network provider” lab if possible.  An important tip to all potential cruisers:  be sure and look for national and (depending on your cruising plans) international medical coverage. Fortunately, due to Dave’s big wi-fi antenna, we have good internet while at anchor, and finding a lab wasn’t too difficult.  The closest lab was a little over 4 miles away — an easy bike ride.

Since I’m not sure how long I’ll be, we decide it’s best for Dave to run me over to the docks in the dingy so he and Ayla will still have transportation should they need it. We have folding bikes on the boat which are easy to load in the dingy, and provide us with an easy and flexible mode of transportation. Once Dave drops me off on the docks, a few quick handle releases and the bike is ready to go. Just as Dave is driving off I remember to toss him my life vest so I don’t have too ride around town with it on. You would laugh if you knew the number of times we leave the dingy with our life vests still on (it just feels natural to be wearing them).

All is well for the first half of my ride. I’m riding down Ribault Street, which is a very busy four lane road, but fortunately there is a nice sidewalk which I can use with easy curbs to get up and down as I make way to Port Royal. I throughly enjoy the ride, as I love looking at the spanish moss draped from the great oak trees in this area, standing next to the towering magnolia trees. I’m lost in thought about Gone with Wind, and thinking that Ayla and I should really read this book together while we are in the area, when the first few drops of rain begin to fall.  No big deal — weather.com and the local weatherman both say there is a less than 10% chance of rain until after midnight — I’m sure the few sprinkles will pass. After all, the sky doesn’t really look any different than it has all day with it’s gray pallor.

A few minutes later, the rain drops begin to fall more quickly, and all I can think about is the movie Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid while the song Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head plays through my mind. What’s a girl gonna do? I’m already wet, so I might as well keep going with a song in my heart. I’m wet but not soaked as I near the turn. Unfortunately, Google maps show the lab two blocks the wrong direction. Future tip to myself: call location and verify directions before setting off.  😉  By the time I figure out this mistake it’s really raining and my “water resistant” wind breaker has given up the fight and invited all water to come straight on in through the fibers. I finally zero in on the lab, and arrive… well… looking a bit frightful, complete with mascara running down my face. However, I muster my best smile and introduce myself, where I am greeted with a pitying look and asked to please sign in. No problem, except when I tilt my head to sign-in all the water collected in the rivets of my bike helmet go rushing forward and leap off my helmet splashing to the counter, running all the ink on the sign-in sheet, along with landing on their phone, counters, and Kleenex box. With a sheepish smile I apologize profusely and promptly take a few soggy Kleenex and try clean up my mess and dry myself off a bit. I excuse myself for a moment and step back outside under the narrow awning where I do my best interpretation of a golden retriever after a dip in the pool, shaking to the best of my ability to get all the remnant water out of my hair and off my body. Fortunately it was a slow day, and there were no other patients waiting, just the lab techs enjoying me as their afternoon entertainment.

The ladies couldn’t have been nicer, and quickly took care of me.  Of course, they may have just been scared of me and wanted to get me out of there as soon as possible. However, I would like to think they were just efficient.  🙂  During our blood-drawing chit-chat I confirmed they too were under the impression it was not supposed to rain that day. Unfortunately for me, they were quite quick, and it was now really pouring outside.

I decide to give Dave a quick call and have him find a local radar map and see if this is a passing squall that I can wait out for awhile before heading back. As a side note, I’d like to say this thought is really due to my new cruising life. I would have never thought to check a weather map a year ago. Unfortunately, Dave confirms it’s pouring at the boat, and the local weather radar map shows a broad band of rain extending to the west and heading our way for some time.

Oh well, I can’t really get much wetter than I already am, so I might as well get going. I had two errands to run while I was out (we cruiser’s always take advantage of our time on land). A quick stop at West Marine (the Home Depot for boats) and Piggly Wiggly (the local supermarket). With my backpack full, and the rain still coming down in buckets, I took off back down the sidewalk towards Beaufort and the boat.

It’s funny how one small change in the weather allowed me to notice different things about the path I had ridden only an hour and half before. For instance, the sidewalk was only on one side of the street; and the road was sloped ever so slightly towards the sidewalk side of the street. I assume the city planners were using the curbs to help direct water run-off from large rains to storm drains strategically placed along the road side. However, in a deluge the water can’t be drained fast enough, and instead small lakes form in the road bounded by the curb, which just happens to be next to the sidewalk I’m riding on. At this point, I’m sure you know what comes next.

As I’m pedaling along the sidewalk as fast as I can (and by the way, I’m grateful to have a sidewalk versus having to be on the road with all the traffic), I can see the expressions of drivers coming towards me.  Mostly the looks are ones of surprise, some might even say shock, as in “What the heck are you doing out on a bike in this?”  Obviously there is no time to explain, and I just keep my head down and keep pedaling. For the most part drivers did their best to avoid large puddles where they could, and I did my best to ride as far over on the sidewalk as I could. However, large trucks have nowhere to go but straight through. At one point there was a puddle so large it extended across both lanes of traffic. Just as I saw this small lake on my right, a very large moving truck hit this puddle going about 35-40 mph and sent of wall of water crashing over me that was at least ten to twelve feet high. I made the unfortunate mistake of opening my mouth to exclaim “Holy Smokes!” (or something to that effect) as the wave broke over me.  For a moment it felt like I  was surfing the tube in a big wave on Oahu’s north shore.  Then the curl collapsed and just fell around me. As I emerged a few moments later, still riding, I felt both relieved and victorious. I wanted to do fist pumps in the air, but I knew I’d fall off if I tried. Instead, I just burst out laughing. The whole thing had to be incredibly funny to watch. I could not be any wetter. I laughed for most of the ride back to the dingy dock, and marveled at how I arrived at this moment in my life to be surfing street waves on a bike in South Carolina when I’m 50. I’m one lucky lady!

Dave appeared to have great luck when a brief break in the rain occurred as he came to retrieve me.  Of course, once the bike and I were securely in the dingy the skies opened up again.  As we made our way back to the boat in the pelting rain, I could only think to sing, “…walking in the rain with the one I love…”  to which Dave gave a playful smile, and said, “Not Neil Sedaka, anybody but Neil Sedaka.” We made it back to the boat safe and sound, where Ayla was at the ready with towels and warm cups of tea. The whole excursion had elements of the best and worst of what a cruising life has to offer. As always the key is to be prepared for the unexpected, and make the best of it. It’s these stories that add the texture to the rich tapestry of life we are weaving on this voyage. I continue to count my blessings from my bike adventure — fortunately I don’t appear to have picked up any nasty parasites from my unexpected use of street water as mouth wash. 🙂