Like the prettiest belle at the ball, Eleanor cuts through the water with confidence, grace and a certain style that causes eyes to turn and then linger. Eleanor moves forward, sure of where she is going. The onlookers wonder where that is and wish they were going too, because it is sure to be a good place. She is only about good places, and the good place she is right now is cutting through beautiful rivers and canals in the Eastern Carolinas.

People everywhere are hospitable, but hospitality in the Eastern Carolinas is in their bones. Which is why Eleanor feels right at home here, as she is all about hospitality. Michelle and I were blessed to join Jon and Terese, the incredibly hospitable current caretakers of Eleanor (does anyone ever really “own” a yacht? True yachts are creatures that are spawned in the mind of an artist, brought to life by skilled craftsmen, and then wander the earth’s waters as they wish) as they journeyed north back from Eleanor’s winter holiday in Charleston.

Passages are a treasured time. Bringing Eleanor’s dear soul back from her relatively brief time swooning in Charleston’s rich atmosphere is an opportunity to disconnect from all those things that occupy and nag the mind most days, while one sets about with a singular purpose of getting from point A to point B. During a passage, the experiences in point A are imprints of fond memories that help build the anticipation of new memories to come at Point B. Being asked to help make the passage is a gift, and Michelle and I jumped at the chance given to us by Jon and Terese, although we knew we would not fully be able to shed the nagging everyday work routine completely.

Leaving Charleston within 5 minutes of our arrival jumpstarted our focus, however, on the importance of getting to Point B. Our first goal was “somewhere around 60 miles north of Charleston on the ICW”, which as it turned out, was Georgetown. Many states, of course, have a Georgetown – the obvious namesake being the “father of our country”, and given the history of this Georgetown, in the hospitable coast of North Carolina, that was no doubt an influence, as Mr. Washington did actually sleep there, as memorialized on at least one plaque. However, there is so much more going on in this Georgetown than history. Once Eleanor was properly tended to, and fed with fuel and water and ice, our explorations lead us to a wonderful local craft gallery with many clever creations, several of which we took possession of after a pleasant exchange of conversation and cash.

From there we ventured further into town, and found really good restaurants. Not just one or two, but several. And several places where one could just get a beer or something harder, in a very comfortable setting. Choosing where to make our “point B” memories that night was challenging, which gave us time to reflect together on what we truly enjoyed. One thing we all truly enjoyed was the cat cafe, which sadly, was closed for the day, but which still brought joy as we watched several obviously content cats lounging in the still sun-lit window, while one of their cat colleagues furiously exercised the large hamster wheel lined inside with cheetah spotted fabric. Clearly an over-achiever, that cat must have put in 5 miles of jogging while we waited for our dinner reservation across the street.

Dinner was memorable – excellent food with great friends enjoying conversation and some good laughs, at ourselves, our stories and our luck with the forecasted weather. Wind on the nose, followed by record cold, followed by wind on the nose, followed by a fierce gale. We plotted our courses back to Annapolis accordingly. We ended the evening on Eleanor playing a hand of cribbage – a storied card game that Michelle and I enjoy, which we felt obliged to inflict upon our hospitable hosts. Then a 9 pm bedtime to prepare for the 7 am shove-off to a new point B, with new memories and moments. Eleanor, bearing witness, gave us shelter and comfort as we anticipated the point Bs to come on our passage. We were not bringing Eleanor “home” as much as she was bringing us “home” to the things that mattered – good friends, sharing their journeys, with many kind-hearted souls along the way.

Kurt Karsten 3-29-22