Departing from our
long layover in Belhaven we booked it over to Beaufort, site of the little
sailor’s town we fell in love with before we were sailors. It was great to be
able to see the town from our new perspective, and the old burying ground and
maritime museum were even better the second time around.
Stopping traffic again to open the bridge into Beaufort just for us.
 To rescue passengers from a shipwreck, up to five adults and six children would be stuffed inside this windowless life-car that is bolted shut from the outside and then hauled to shore. 
 I wish this maritime library at the museum was in my house…if I had a house.
Beaufort Old Burying Ground with graves dating back to the early 1700s.
 You can’t read the label, but it says “Little Girl Buried in Rum Keg.”
 

My Aunt Dee came
down from Charlotte to take us to her beach house on Emerald Isle. She took us
out for a lovely dinner at the Spouter Inn in Beaufort, then we made good use
of the beach house amenities;
namely a real bed, hot shower, and enough square footage to fully extend
all four limbs at once. The next day we had time for a stroll on the beach. The
sun came out sporadically to warm us up, then it would rain a little, blow some
crazy clouds around, and repeat. We came back to the house to check the weather
and were surprised to see a tornado warning for the area. For the first time
ever we had left our boat at anchor overnight. Despite our guidebook’s overly
dramatic description of the reversing current, or maybe because we listened and
put out two anchors, we were pretty confident the boat wouldn’t be going
anywhere for one night. But throw a tornado and gale warning in the mix and we
started to worry. (Not that we wanted to encounter a tornado on the boat, but
it would be rather irresponsible of us to abandon the boat to anything short of
that.) 
 
 
 
 
 
After brunch Dee
dropped us back in Beaufort so we could keep an eye on the boat. We ran
into John on Starlight who had
helped Dee out with her phone the night before. He let us in on the fifty cent
taco night we had somehow failed to notice during our jaunt around town. Later
we met up with what I’m guessing were all of the other sailors in town, also
drawn in by cheap tacos and Yuengling
at the Dock House. Tacos turned into a tour and impromptu after-party on Starlight with all of these ridiculously nice people: 
Since it’s not
everyday that we get to enjoy the company of people close to our age, this
gathering of young fellow adventurers seemed cause for celebration. So
celebrate we did. And while our boat was not hit by a tornado that night, the
next day I felt as though I might have been. 

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