Great Dismal Swamp

7/8/07 – I got up this morning and went to a local coffee shop that had free wireless internet that I could use. I ate a croissant and had a few glasses of cold milk. I was tempted to attend the 8:00am mass at the local historical Baptist church since I am told that that would be a true learning experience in the south but decided that I was raggedy enough that they would immediately know that I don’t belong there, which is completely true. I walked back to the dock and Tom and Karen helped me untie and cast off. I motored up the windy river until I got to the Dismal Swamp Canal. I had to go through a lock which raises boats eight feet to the dismal swamp. I was told that the locks on either side of the Dismal Swamp are to negate the effects of the difference in tides on the bodies of water that border the Dismal Swamp. In the locks in Minnesota, lines are provided for boats going through so I was surprised to find out that the boats needed to provide their own lines in the Great Dismal Swamp locks. I hurriedly got bow and stern lines out while I was motoring into the lock and got them secure by the time the doors were shut. I made it through the lock and continued through the narrow canal. I learned that this canal was dug by hand with slave labor in the 18^th century and that many of the slaves that dug the canal escaped during the end of their job. I stopped at the North Carolina Visitors Center, a highway rest stop that is right on the Intracoastal Waterway and provides free docking for transients. I walked up to the office and signed their guest book. I noticed that Gary and Tonie had passed through recently. I walked back down to the dock and met the owners of the other boat that was there, a 1978 Morgan 41. They introduced themselves as Anita and David. They live aboard their boat full time in southern Florida and are making their first trip north to the Chesapeake Bay. I talked with them for a while and they offered to let me ride one of their foldable bicycles into town, about five miles away. I accepted their offer and departed. I was exhausted after about two miles, partly because I am out of shape and partly because the foldable bicycles with tiny wheels sacrifice an enormous amount of efficiency for the ability to fold them into a tiny package. I finally got to town and bought a cold lemonade and some ice for my cooler. I made it back and continued talking to the folks on the dock. There were a good number of highway travelers who walked down to the docks to see what was going on but most of them were idiots. A flotilla of three large cruisers floated in and tied up the dock as well. The owner of the biggest cruiser, Corey, came back and offered to give me electricity to run a fan in my boat overnight. I told him that I had neither a cord nor a fan so I would have to decline his offer. He frowned and told me that he would loan me his fan and cord for the night. I walked back and had a cold beer with David and continued talking about boats and sailing for quite a while. One of the wives from the big cruisers walked over and invited all three of us to a homemade dinner of southern jambalaya. I excitedly accepted but David and Anita already had a pizza in their oven so they declined. I walked over and ate a hearty meal of garlic bread, salad, and spicy shrimp jambalaya that was delicious. We all ate quickly and retired to our boats because the yellow flies were beginning to swarm. I have bloody bite marks all over my feet and ankles.