Back to Beaufort

Departing from our long layover in Belhaven we booked it over to Beaufort, site of the little sailor's town we fell in love with before we were sailors. It was great to be able to see the town from our new perspective, and the old burying ground and maritime museum were even better the second time around.

Stopping traffic again to open the bridge into Beaufort just for us.

 To rescue passengers from a shipwreck, up to five adults and six children would be stuffed inside this windowless life-car that is bolted shut from the outside and then hauled to shore. 

 I wish this maritime library at the museum was in my house...if I had a house.

Beaufort Old Burying Ground with graves dating back to the early 1700s.

 You can't read the label, but it says "Little Girl Buried in Rum Keg."

 

My Aunt Dee came down from Charlotte to take us to her beach house on Emerald Isle. She took us out for a lovely dinner at the Spouter Inn in Beaufort, then we made good use of the beach house amenities; namely a real bed, hot shower, and enough square footage to fully extend all four limbs at once. The next day we had time for a stroll on the beach. The sun came out sporadically to warm us up, then it would rain a little, blow some crazy clouds around, and repeat. We came back to the house to check the weather and were surprised to see a tornado warning for the area. For the first time ever we had left our boat at anchor overnight. Despite our guidebook's overly dramatic description of the reversing current, or maybe because we listened and put out two anchors, we were pretty confident the boat wouldn't be going anywhere for one night. But throw a tornado and gale warning in the mix and we started to worry. (Not that we wanted to encounter a tornado on the boat, but it would be rather irresponsible of us to abandon the boat to anything short of that.) 

 

 

 

 

 

After brunch Dee dropped us back in Beaufort so we could keep an eye on the boat. We ran into John on Starlight who had helped Dee out with her phone the night before. He let us in on the fifty cent taco night we had somehow failed to notice during our jaunt around town. Later we met up with what I'm guessing were all of the other sailors in town, also drawn in by cheap tacos and Yuengling at the Dock House. Tacos turned into a tour and impromptu after-party on Starlight with all of these ridiculously nice people: 

Since it's not everyday that we get to enjoy the company of people close to our age, this gathering of young fellow adventurers seemed cause for celebration. So celebrate we did. And while our boat was not hit by a tornado that night, the next day I felt as though I might have been.