The Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) houses an enchanting mix of watery back doors and quiet coastal byways. Weathered docks lead to rusty shrimping boats skippered by seasoned captains. A blend of golden marshlands, hidden history, and quiet urbanity paints a portrait that’s both nostalgic and full of life.
Few places let you move through such a raw, rooted stretch of the American landscape. Seen from the water, the towns and hushed landscape reveal a bygone era of American beauty. Here are three hidden gems along the ICW that capture the same quiet beauty.
We arrived in Belhaven after a long and menacing day on the water. Our journey was accompanied by thunder, lightning, and a constant downpour of drenching rain. We arrived decked out in our matching banana suits, the wet-weather gear that came with the boat. After we tied up to the transient slip at Belhaven Marina, the dockmaster escorted us to the boathouse.
We walked past the old River Forest Manor, an exquisite mansion full of shadows, history, and southern charm. Inside the boathouse, the dockmaster handed us an envelope. He explained that we had free use of a golf cart on site. I opened the envelope as he listed more amenities available at the marina. In the envelope was a letter from the mayor welcoming us to town. She included her personal phone number and offered us a ride if we needed to go anywhere during our stay.

The town of Belhaven offered all the quaint waterfront pleasantries we could have hoped for. Our family has sailed up and down the Intracoastal Waterway from D.C. to the Florida Keys numerous times. We never felt as welcome as did in the town of Belhaven.
Taylor Creek showcases all dimensions of North Carolina’s coastal boating culture. From the anchorage, you can see wild horses grazing on Carrot Island just a few feet away. The town of Beaufort flanks the other side of the anchorage and features boating museums, ancient graveyards, and a welcoming community. Pirate lore and maritime history are enmeshed in every corner of the town.
Shackleford Banks—it is on the other side of Carrot Island—is a quieter destination that faces the ocean to the southeast. Tidal marshes are to the northwest. This is a protected shoreline with diverse shelling and incredible birdwatching. The trails on the backside of the banks offer elevated views of grassy marshland dappled with wild ponies.
The anchorage itself is an endless buffet of stunning vistas. Many mornings, fog covers the boats in a blanket of soft white. In the evening, the sun sets on Carrot Island where ponies roam the shores, their coats illuminated in the soft orange light.

I could live on Taylor Creek and want for nothing. When restlessness started to take hold, we would pull the anchor and brave the Beaufort Inlet to Cape Lookout. Only 7 miles offshore, the bight offers a protected anchorage from every angle. Sea turtles roam the emerald waters and poke their noses out around the boats at anchor.
The lighthouse is the only structure on the cape, with miles of rugged coastline accessible only to boaters. Tourists take the ferry from Beaufort to see the lighthouse, but after the last ferry departs, it’s a private paradise.
This Intracoastal Waterway hidden gem isn’t a small town with historic significance and quaint restaurants. Instead, it is an uninhabited expanse of sand and water. Rarely do we seek out an empty domain of wilderness to explore. But on a boat, certain things can catch your eye that weren’t on the itinerary.
From the ICW, we could see the beach not far from our anchorage north of Sapelo Sound in Georgia. We spied no structures, no people, and no wildlife. The beach was a maze of dead trees, each one a monolith of sand-blown wood turned over on its side. Roots were upside down in massive displays of wooded tangles standing 15 feet tall. At low tide, the sandy beach extended out until it melted into the watery horizon.
The tidal range was close to 9 feet, making the area ripe for swift tidal currents and breathtaking inland beaches. We traversed nature’s sculpture garden of ancient tree roots and tangles. It was like the forest’s edge simply fell into the bank of the river. Weaving through dead canopies and stumps, we made our slow way back to the dinghy. A little too slow. We were almost cut off from the dinghy with the rising tide amid an impenetrable maze of deadwood.
This island is only accessible during certain tidal ranges, but it is well worth the trouble.
Traveling by water in our sailboat allows us an opportunity to perceive the raw American coastline from a different angle. We can see things many others don’t even know exist. The journey is slower and the view is vivid and clear. The beauty of boating is the unexpected stops you never intended to make.
Don’t let a stringent Intracoastal Waterway itinerary deprive you of what could be the most spectacular memories you make along the way.