11/12/2015, 11/13/2015 Capers Island

11/12/15   To  32 52.329N,  79 49.889W    Whiteside Creek Anchorage    47.8NM

We knew we'd be going 'up hill', Leonard's term for fighting current, most of the day, and we'd be transiting a couple of problem areas on a falling tide, so we got an early start.  Once again, we saw a number of eagles contemplating breakfast from perches.  At one point, 2 flew past over the marsh. A few minutes later I spotted 3 of them perched in a tree, and we could hear their discussion as we passed.

The drive unit of a floating bridge over the ICW S of Georgetown - it replaces a ferry

We arrived at the shoals beyond McClellanville with about 3' of tide to assist us.  However, since it was falling, we kept a very close eye on the depth gauge - grounding would involve a very long wait before the tide would lift us off again.  We heard a  two boats a couple of miles ahead of us, discussing the depth (they had a bit more water) on the VHF.  It was skinny, 7' in a few places, and we were thankful not to have traffic in either direction, we wanted to stay in the middle, not move to one side!  Leonard commented that we'd never make it at low tide, and knowing that, he'd anchor and wait rather than run aground (7-3=4, and we draw 5')!

Bundled dredge pipe on the ICW in SC

Although we saw some dredging equipment along the ICW further S, we still had more areas where the depth read under 10', to keep us doing the ICW slalom, zig zagging checking for better depths.  We heard other folks, most likely at the area N of the Ben Sawyer Bridge, a frequent grounding spot at low tide.  Sounded like some had anchors out, either waiting, or aground and waiting, for more water.

Panorama of Whiteside Anchorage looking N from the boat

We arrived at Whiteside Creek around 1500.  I wanted to go over to Capers Island right away, but was out voted by the Captain who said we'd wait until Friday when we'd spend much of the day there.  Unfortunately, it won't be during prime feeding times (dawn and dusk) at the impoundment to look for birds, but I'll get another long beach walk.

Panorama looking E toward the entrance into Whiteside Creek - Capers Island beyond

We'll depart early Saturday, taking advantage of high tide to get over the shoals ahead (but going up hill), remembering the Ben Sawyer Bridge only opens on the hour on weekends, and arriving in Charleston in time to check out the Farmer's Market.  Looks like our timing will be good - a 'dry' cold front is forecast to arrive Friday evening, dropping temperatures into the low 40's overnight during the weekend - we'll be plugged in and can use the space heater.  The forecast is for mostly clear weather into next week, always a bonus.

11/13/15   At   32 52.329N,   79 42.889W    Whiteside Creek    Lay Day

A pair of great blue herons in the marsh - one blue the other the white morph

Thanks to the lack of cold temperatures, mosquitoes and other biting bugs arrived in droves as dusk approached and the wind died, we ate dinner below to avoid being eaten alive.  Consequently I wasn't in a huge rush to go ashore at prime bug time in the morning.   Leonard had suggested moving the boat closer, something we haven't attempted in the past.  He said since we would have high tide both when we'd arrive and depart we should be fine (there's plenty of water except for some sneaky shoals), but given the recent flood and storms which could cause significant changes in bottom topography - the depths aren't charted , I vetoed that idea.  So after launching the dinghy, we headed over  to Capers Island, about a mile  away, to spend the day.

It was a bit of a surprise to find the dock and board walk to shore littered with reeds and missing quite a few boards.  After securing the dinghy and raising the outboard (Leonard remembers all too well what happens when the dinghy and outboard get stuck in the mud), we cautiously made our way ashore.  Although it was around 1100, the mosquitoes still attacked like they hadn't had a meal in days.  When we got to the impoundment, all the brush along the shore had been removed, there were new shoals in the pond and very few birds to be seen.  The pipe controlling the flow between pond and creek had been replaced and the dike reinforced with metal, and obviously still under construction.  There had been no sign of Mama 'Gator at her normal spot to bask in the sun.  Quite a change from last fall.

S bank of the impoundment with the brush removed 

Looking across the island from the beach toward the impoundment - the water washed over this area during the flood

We were unprepared for the changes on the beach.  When we first visited in the fall of 2003, the beautiful old live oaks of the maritime forest were slowly falling victim to a receding beach as nature did her thing, but some remained.  There had been a trail through the woods, behind the beach that could be used, either as an alternative to the beach on a hot sunny day, or in case the tide was higher than normal.  This year, remnants of the oaks were beyond the low tide mark in places, and none appeared to have survived along the wooded edge of the island.  It appeared there would be no beach at high tide along much of the island.  Apparently the water in the impoundment had risen to a level where it had run out over the beach during the October flood, which explained some of the drastic changes we'd seen. 

Remnants of the live oaks on the beach - note shoals running out

The intricate swirls of a live oak remnant

Palm and live oaks stumps strewn along the beach

We hiked the island from inlet to inlet, I'd guess about 3 miles, along the beach on a falling tide.  The sand banks at either inlet seemed to have grown and changed shape significantly, stretching further out into the Atlantic.  The inlets, unmarked, may be possible to navigate, but not without very current local knowledge.  It was surprising how far out the areas of breakers stretched.

A portion of the beach at low tide - high tide mark is at the trees which show salt damage

A sand dollar washed up on the beach

A pleasant surprise was the number and variety of butterflies flitting about, a fair number seen as shadows as they flew overhead.  I thought a number were Monarchs until I checked my butterfly guide and realized they were most likely Vicroys, a southern, non-migrating cousin of the Monarch.  Others were too far away and/or unwilling to pose for photos.

Queen butterfly reading the label of our bug spray

Viceroy - southern cousin of the Monarch

I was disappointed we didn't see more birds as we walked on the beach.  An osprey perched on a dead tree, and took off just as Leonard  tried to snap his picture.   On the way back we startled a flock of sanderlings - they're always fun to watch, looking like wind up toys as they seem to float just over the sand with their legs going almost too fast to see.  We haven't seen as many of them this year on our beach walks.

Osprey in search of a meal

The largest flock of sanderlings we've seen this trip

On the way back to the dinghy, a few more birds were either feeding in the shallows or roosting in the trees.  A slight breeze helped keep the bugs at bay, making it possible to stop and look.  We were rewarded with spotting Mama 'Gator, who looked bigger than ever, I'd guess close to 20', basking under some roosting herons.  Leonard also had another questionable sighting - it looked like a fallen palm tree until we viewed the photo on the computer.  One of Mama's offspring appears to be thriving too.

Immature herons - little blue heron above an immature tricolor

with

Mama 'Gator snoozing underneath

Junior 'Gator - thought he was a dead palm

As we approached the dock, a small power boat tied up.  To our surprise, the boardwalk and dock had been placed off limits, cordoned with official yellow tape.  The boat belonged to a wild life officer who asked if the dinghy was ours. He told us to duck under the tape - we'd be fine if we watched our step.  He'd been requested to close the dock due to damage from last month's record floods.  Apparently the water rose over the dock and boardwalk more than 5' over high tide, lifting off any boards not well attached (there were numerous).  He said the impoundment had breached the bank, causing some of the changes we'd seen.  He also indicated the floods had done a lot of damage on the other nearby barrier islands. 

While the dock was closed to the public, the island wasn't - shortly after we arrived, we watched a ferry bring a school group over, landing on the creek bank.  We could have done that too, but would have had some work to get the dinghy down to the water when we returned.

School trip being dropped off at the Whiteside Creek inlet at Capers Island

The officer was friendly, and waited before leaving, to make sure we wouldn't have any problems getting underway.  By the time we left, the tide was coming in, and if we'd had problems, it would have been possible to row back, although it would have been a looong row.  Back in the anchorage, we'd been joined by 5 other boats.

The barrier islands along this portion of the coast are part of Cape Romaine, a huge national wild life refuge that consists of a maze of constantly changing shoals and creeks between Isle of the Palms and Winyah Bay.  The only marked (not charted) channel is at McClellanville where the local commercial fleet use Five Fathom Creek to access the ocean.  Most barrier islands between Winyah Bay and Capers are undeveloped.  Dewess Island, a privately owned island just S of Capers, has some development, but is only accessible by boat.  Isle of Palms and Sullivans Island, closer to Charleston with access by 2 bridges, are extensively developed.  Seeing the changes would make us think more than twice before investing in ocean front property!