There is a dichotomy to Charleston. On the one hand, you have the old school, old money people that believe that Charleston is where the Cooper and the Ashley river long ago came together and formed the Atlantic Ocean. Then there is an edgier side, an undercurrent, comprised of longshoremen, fishermen, and the like. Stir into this the Citadel cadets, military bases, and the College of Charleston, and you get a sizzling pot.
Years ago, a friend who was a Citadel cadet took me to an underground (below street level) bar that had a sign on the wall that read "Have You Been Rude To A Tourist Today?" I loved it, and to this day look for places below street level or off the beaten path.
So we are hanging out here for a bit. Carol met up with her friend Wanda, with whom she worked for many years. They have a relationship that was hardened in the forges of Southern Bell, Bellsouth, and AT&T. A tumultuous journey that brought them together and keeps them close even after both have retired. Her and her husband, Kenny, spent the day with us with me as the default tour guide, as I have the most "face time" with Charleston. We spent a lovely fall day walking around town, looking at architecture and flora and fauna.
Today, I installed and registered my new Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon. This is the device that, should the boat begin to sink at sea, I will grab on the way out the companionway and duct tape to Carol's leg. The boat came with one, but it was hopelessly out of date. This was kind of a big number, but kind of not an option as we are considering leaving the ICW and venturing offshore around Georgia. The plan as it stands today is to depart either Hilton Head or Savannah and head to the Florida/Georgia border.
I then washed the boat. This was an absolute necessity, as during the registration process NOAA asked me what color the boat was. I said white. After stepping up on deck, I realized this was no longer the case. No one wants to lie to the Coast Guard.