Early this morning produced some moderately heavy rains. The new Northwest Territory tent held up very well, no drips, no leaks, no nothing that I could detect. I had epoxied extra tent stake loops to keep the seams from bunching up and acting as catch basins for the rain runoff from the tent and fly. I still need to put some on the fly too so I can pull the fly out more from the tent to allow the runoff to fall away from the tent and provide better ventilation.
Today is supposed to be cooler wit more wind. Sure enough, when I paddled out onto open water and turned south on the Pamlico River I could feel the strong 10-15 knot wind blowing out of the north.
The spare paddle I was using hadn't gotten any lighter overnight nor had I gotten any stronger. I expected that to tire me out today. I would have to keep an eye on conditions so I wouldn't have to struggle against the elements on the way back. I wasn't going to paddle any harder on the way out than I had to for the same reason.
As I entered the Pamlico River I noted a lot of crab pots scattered up and down the river. Reminded me of all the lobster pots in Maine. Closer to shore I could see lots of dead trees and stumps. It seemed as if the water level had risen from what it used to be and killed off lots of trees right on the river's edge.
The river is 1-2 miles across where Goose Creek flows into it. I could see 7-8 sailboats on the other side taking advantage of the stiff wind for a friendly little race. As I paddled along on my side of the river, they seemed to be picking up new members as they went and I was now able to count 11 sailboats over there.
5-10 miles up ahead I could see what I took to be Pamlico Sound. Even though it was turning into a nice clear day I couldn't see the Outer Banks on the other side of the sound. I could, however, see lots more sailboats on the horizon. By now the sailboats numbered around 15.
My side of the river had lots of little sandy beaches. Clumps of sedge grass sprouted here and there while tall pines, scraggly live oaks and other hardwoods stood behind many stripped and bald dead cypress trees.
I was kinda heading towards Bath Creek, somewhere downriver. I spotted a creek I knew wasn't Bath Creek and turned up it directly into the north wind. As it turns out this was Duck Creek. It's about 20-30 feet wide with marsh grass extending from both banks while pines tower in the background. Several fairly wide (10 foot) channels shot off while the creek itself became narrower and narrower even though there was plenty of water. I could hear the wind blowing overhead but it was penetrating down to the ever smaller creek when I finally gave up.
This was one of the few times I've been on the water on the east coast where the sailboats outnumbered the powerboats.