What a day aboard our little floating home! It all began with us being ready for the very first lock opening at 8am. We hailed the marina office on the VHF, and within minutes, they were ready for us to lock out. Timing couldn’t have been better—fortune smiled on us as the water levels outside and inside the marina were perfectly aligned. The lock doors simply swung open, both sides at once, and we motored through, waving goodbye. No tying up, no drop or rise—just a seamless passage that felt almost too simple to be true.

But as soon as we left the sanctuary of the lock, reality came rushing back in the form of a nasty sea breeze that smacked us in the face. It made us appreciate the almost landlocked serenity of the marina even more—where calm waters, no wind, no waves, and no currents had lulled us into a tranquil state. Out here, though, things were quite different. A strong current opposed a strong wind as we crossed the Port Royal Inlet, leaving Hilton Head Island behind. The ride was choppy, to say the least, with 18 knots of wind hammering us, and the current, right on the nose. No weather to be messing about outside, even if we had the option.

Once we eased back into the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) from the inlet, we hoisted our small staysail and immediately gained almost a knot of speed—no small victory against a 2-knot current working hard against us. Timing was key, as we had a mission to catch the scheduled opening of the Lady Island Bridge in Beaufort, SC, at precisely the right time. The bridge operates at the bottom of the hour, between 9:30am and 3:30pm, and though Beaufort’s sights are easy on the eyes, none of us fancied an hour spent circling in front of the bridge.

The battle with the current grew fiercer with every passing mile, slowing us down even more. But with the staysail doing its job and the engine pushed harder, we managed just enough speed to hit the mark at the bridge opening. Navigating the reduced single-channel access (a barge had crashed into the south channel a little while ago, rendering that channel not passable) wasn’t a problem, as we were the only boat making the passage at that time. Another smooth victory in a day full of little challenges.

The choppy ride continued, and the wide-open waters near our targeted anchorage threw the winds and current against each other yet again—creating swells that made the ride increasingly bumpy. But hope remained intact, knowing that the destination for the night was near. Our next task was finding a good anchorage for the night, though options in this area proved tricky. Most potential anchor spots were exposed to today’s relentless winds, gusting up to 25 knots, and lacked decent protection. The weather forecast claimed things should calm overnight to around 12-15 knots, but for now, the conditions were far from comfortable.

We finally turned to our last-ditch backup anchorage, tucked 2.5 nautical miles down into a smaller creek. There was no real wind protection, but the swells were mercifully smaller, and the creek is known for good holding. With no other options left, we decided to give it a shot. Battling a 24-knot headwind, we eased into the creek and dropped anchor, taking our time to make sure it was well-set. On the second try, success! Plenty of chain, a snubber, and the sense of relief that comes when you know you can finally stop fighting the elements.

Tonight won’t be one of those idyllic evenings in the cockpit, gazing at the sunset over a calm anchorage. With the wind howling and the current pushing us sideways to the wind, we’re settling inside instead. For the very first time since casting off from St. Pete. A little cleanup in Koko’s cabin and dinner indoors will be the order of the night.