Wind and waves are not so much a problem in the south part of the Intracoastal, but shoals are, and some places are only navigable at high tide. Dickie had it timed so that leaving at first light, we’d made it through the shallowest parts. We were anchored right in Charleston where it’s plenty deep but inhospitable with a highway and port with huge boats. We were making our way toward the channel, careful to avoid the few abandoned derelict boats, ghostly with their overgrown green algae and torn flags.  Suddenly and as if coming from nowhere, a black boat pulled up to us. Dickie reached for his radio, but before we could react three men dressed in black with heavy boots boarded Peregrine. They disconnected our electronics, and two of them stayed with Dickie in the cockpit while the third searched the cabin below, making me pull apart our bed in the front berth to reach the cavity under. After forty-five minutes of looking through everything, they must have realized they would not find much of interest on Peregrine, and gestured for the fourth guy following us on the black boat to pick them up. It looked as if they would not do anything to us, and I felt much relief. Just before they left, Dickie asked them why they had picked us out. They said it’s just that we were the first to leave Charleston, but that they would inspect all the other boats at the anchorage. I did not realize coast guards were that thorough.

Men in black leaving Peregrine…