Verizon's New Policy

It's been about six days since I have written an entry. That's because I upgraded my Verizon Wireless Program. When I finished the download, a vicious, hate full popup warned me that I had surpassed my 5 gig limit and that I was paying 25 cents per Megabyte for each meg over my 5 gig limit. I had already used 6115 megs. 1024 megs comprise a gig. It's a binary thing. You would think that a thousand megs make a gig but a gig is a power of two (2 to the ninth power of 2 in this case) that is 4,8,16,32,64,128,256,512,1024. At 6115 megs, I was already about 1000 megs over which calculates to $250 in excess fees. When I purchased this packaged, the salesman didn't warn me about any such limit.

As the next few day passed I called Verizon repeatedly and listened to a variety of reports of how my bill had inflated from simple binary math to astronomical differential equations. I received a wide variance of answers from "All is fine, don't worry about it" to "At your current rate of usage, you will owe over $1000 just for this month alone".

So now, we are trying to find marinas that offer free WiFi access. We are now in Oriental North Carolina where the Oriental marina offers free cable and free Internet.

But my last post left us in Whilloby Bay in Norfolk where the high school cheerleaders practice their chant; "We don't smoke, and we don't drink. Nor Folk, Nor Folk, Nor Folk." Nice clean girls here in Norfolk!

We weighed anchor that overcast morning (red skies at morning; sailors' take warning) and powered out towards mile zero of the ICW-- the intracoastal waterway-- just 10 miles south of Whilloby Bay.

We followed the Elizabeth River until we entered the entrance to the Dismal Swamp Canal. It is named by the men who lived in disease and misery to build the canal many years ago.

It was a 28 mile drive that simulated driving through a forest except that I was driving on water instead of a road. Tall trees lined the sides of the narrow canal and deposit their leaves in the canal. The water is so rich in tinin, the ingredient in tea leaves that makes tea black, that the canal water is as black as tea.

At mile 28 all boats stopped to tie up to the North Carolina Visitor's Center. There is room for only three boats so the remaining 10 rafted off of the three moored to the bulkhead. This makes for a large drinking party as boaters climb over each other's boat to meet new arrivals. Many of the boaters knew each other from previous fall travels down the ICW.

The following morning, we broke up the raft at 7:15 am to head for the second of two locks in the Dismal Swamp Canal. The canal passes over ground that is higher than sea level so boats must pass through locks that lift them to a higher level, then after about 32 miles, another set of locks lower them back to near sea level.

The next stop was Elizabeth City where we spent two nights because I needed to plug into shore power to finish some jobs that required power tools. During our stay, the stainless steel wire that secured the dinghy to the back of the boat snapped and the dinghy set out in search of a new home. A dock neighbor snagged it and directed it to the beach where Mandy and I rescued it and hauled it back to our transom where it belonged. I secured new towing rings to it and scolded it for going astray. It cursed back at me. I lost my temper and struck it with a screwdriver. It hit me with an oar. I retaliated with a hammer. It pounded me with the trolling motor. Insults were hurled. Feeling were hurt. The dinghy and I now live within the confines of a pouting truce, eager to find a middleground where we can both live in harmony. Damned dinghy pissed me off!!!

The next day, (I'm lost in the seven day weekend so I don't know which day) we set out under strong north winds southbound down the Pasquatank River to the open ravages of the Albemarle Sound. We received a proper thrashing from the Sound. Wind driven waves hurling down the river collided with waves driven by winds from the open Albemarle Sound created wild and confused seas of six feet and more. We sailed under full main and jib for most of the day then finally turned into the Alligator River anchorage, a place that can only be described as the only lunar anchorage on the East coast. The trees are so damaged by gales and hurricane force winds that they have no leaves and few remaining branches.

The following morning we motored down the Pungo Canal then turned toward Belhaven North Carolina. There, we topped off our fuel and took a walk through the tiny southern town. All restaurants were closed but we found a pool hall where we could get a beer and a bag of chips for dinner. A local patron modeled his Halloween costume for us all; it was a large cardboard box with the number '1' on the back. He wore the box over his body with his head popped out through a hole cut in the top. Above his head was a lamp and on the top of the box next to his head was a TV remote and a paperback novel. "I'm going as a 'one night stand', he said.

Today finds us in Oriental North Carolina. It's a cutesy town where tourists stay in B&Bs and wander the shops in search of nautical curiosities to display in their rec rooms. The tourist season is over now. Most shops and restaurants are closed til spring. We managed to find a blue-cheese-burger in a locals spot and then had a drink at the tiki bar operated by the marina. The locals have no gas station where they can hang out like Mayberry or Lost River so they hang out at the tiki bar.

Tomorrow, we're on to Beaufort to visit Charlie Baldwin and his band of sea-borne desperadoes. Can't wait!!!!!!!