Annapolis

My, how time flies.  We’ve been in Annapolis for almost four weeks now.  In that time, we’ve rented a condo into which we’re slowly moving, bought a “pre-owned” blue Toyota Prius, finally found a solution to clean the blue topsides so that we did not have to paint WW after all (saving about $12,000!), researched boat yards and brokers, contracted with a broker, repaired the auto-pilot (yea!), reserved our haul out time at the boat yard, fixed little things and cleaned.  We’ve also gotten together with our old buddies, Stan Mathey and Bill Brooks from the Harbor Master’s Office and made new friends:  Ann, an amazing single-hander from Ohio, and Jason, Bill’s 20-year-old son, also affectionately known as Thumper due to his size 13 footwear.  Glad to be back in our lovely old Spa Creek.

 

And the best news is that Dave found out on Tuesday that he is a grandpa!  Daughter Jessica and hubby Nick gave birth to Avaline Ray Kasimatis in San Rafael.  We’re so happy for them and can’t wait to go see them. 

 

We are spending 24 hours at the dock to polish stainless steel, scrub the decks, clean up the anchors and other chores that require the use of glorious fresh running water from a hose.  Worked till 8:00pm last night and will get back at it this morning. 

 

We’re wrapping up the blog so will only write when I get a chance or when the boat sells.  Yesterday, a fellow slip renter asked us if we’ll miss boating.  Dave answered, “Yes, but not all of it.”  Repairs and certain maintenance are not so fun, but we will truly miss the water, meeting new cruisers with whom we have an intrinsic bond, visiting new and unusual places, chatting with locals and learning new things, and anticipating the next journey. 

 

Still we are anticipating the next journey though we may be driving or flying instead of floating.  Stay well, family and friends.

Portsmouth to Deltaville, Virginia

Osprey taking off

We were lucky that the breeze shifted to the West as we slept well in our wide open to the east Little Alligator River anchorage.  As we dodged the crab pots on the way out, it looked as though we'd have enough wind to sail the 20 miles across the Albemarle Sound.  I was so excited.  In my eagerness to prepare the sails and lines, I missed that one of the markers had been changed.  It was red nun 8A.  Nuns are big plastic floating buoys that can be easily moved as shoals form and change especially at the mouths of rivers.  I should have paid attention to help Dave with the navigation at this tricky point where there is a dog leg bend in the ICW route.  We ran aground twice before I figured out the problem.  No worries.  We  got her unstuck and carried on.  We discussed our mistake and realized that as they signal recent movement in shoals, we should always honor the nuns.  And Dave added, "Religiously!"   

Soon after we had both sails flying and whizzed across the Albemarle Sound in that lovely west wind.  About halfway across, a solemn voice hailed us on the VHF, "Blue-hulled sailing vessel heading east in the Albemarle Sound, this is the green power boat passing you going west."  My first thought was, "Uh, oh.  What did we do wrong?"  I responded, "Green power boat, this is Wayward Wind."  He replied, "Wayward Wind, you're looking good!"  Whew!  "Thank you,” I answered.  “It's a pleasure to be sailing." 

Native marsh mallow in bloom

After the Sound, we doused the sails and threaded our way through the cut.  We stopped at Coinjock Marina to top off on fuel and water.  As we pulled up, we exchanged greetings with the dock hand, who said he was just trying to survive this balmy weather.  I said, “Yea, it’s balmy alright.”  He said, “It’s HOT.  “Balmy” is just sugar-coating it.  It’s just HOT.”   Hot or balmy, it was a great spot to buy ice cream.    While at the dock, a nice couple that we’d been playing leap-frog with for the past three days, pulled up in their catamaran, Wonderland.  It was fun to meet them as we’d spoken on the radio a couple of times.  They’d owned a smaller Freedom sailboat but had decided to get a catamaran to have more living space as they now live aboard full-time.  They hadn’t been on a Freedom 45, so we gave them a quick tour.  It’s always fun to meet new cruisers as there is an instant camaraderie. 

With little wind, we motored through the shallow Carrituck Sound headed to the Pungo Ferry Bridge anchorage.  We remembered it as being very shallow from our previous trip and were hoping that it hadn’t shoaled much more as there really were not any anchorages for many miles around.  When we got there, we inched our way around and slogged through less than five feet of water to find an OK spot away from the bridge and just out of the channel to drop the anchor in 4.5 feet of water with the hope that there would not be a wind tide to leave us high and dry by morning.  That night, twice, with spotlights ablaze, tugboats slowly pushed barges past us and under the Pungo Ferry Bridge.  We awoke the next morn, lifted the anchor and slogged our way out nicely into the channel and under the bridge.

Rollin' on the river

The scenery is starkly beautiful in this part of Virginia.  We talked about the Civil War and Dave said he could imagine the Confederate soldiers moving in the brush.  It was hard to believe that we were only 29 miles from Norfolk yet it was rural and wild feeling.  Within that 29 miles we passed under nine bridges, including swing, lift and bascule, a couple of 65-foot fixed bridges, and one lock.  All went smoothly. 

 

 

 

 

 

Things became increasingly industrial as we neared Norfolk.  It is a vast center of both civil and naval ship building.  We spent one night at the High Street dock on the Portsmouth side of the Elizabeth River.  It's nice because the shops and cafes are right on High Street. 

 

Who wouldn't shop here?

Also on High Street is the Commodore Theater.  It is a refurbished movie theater built in 1945 with tables for dining while viewing films.  The temperature was in the mid-90s so we thought that the Commodore was the right place to be.  We watched Man of Steel.  So much violence and destruction.  Geez!  I found it boring...Oh, there they go fighting and ruining perfectly good architecture again.  But the experience as a whole, was fun, and I recommend it.  Besides, how often do you get to have an ice cold beer at a movie theater?

 

The Commodore Theater

Early the next morning, we started on the long haul to Deltaville.   As mentioned, the Norfolk waterfront is lined for miles and miles with ship building facilities.  It took us a full two and a half hours to get into the Chesapeake.  

 

Shipyard in Norfolk

 

Finally, the Chesapeake.  And as it so often happens in the Chesapeake during the summer, especially during a heat wave, no wind.  So it was a long motor to Deltaville, but we made it in the late afternoon.  We anchored in front of Deltaville Marina and paid to use the facilities which included a pool.  So refreshing. 

 

Up to this point, we have been in "Go Mode" focusing on getting north quickly.  Now we're here, in the Chesapeake, so we are beginning the process of getting estimates and quotes to repair and paint the hull of the boat.  The results will determine our next steps. 

 

Thimble Shoal Lighthouse outside of Norfolk in the Chesapeake Bay

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Beaufort to Little Alligator River, North Carolina

Charleston park

07.13.13 

We had a good and uneventful overnight passage from Charleston through Masonboro Inlet to Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina.  We’d originally planned on doing two days up the ICW to Georgetown, then out in the Atlantic directly to Beaufort, but on Saturday, while doing the pre-start-up checks, I found that the knob for the gear lube dipstick was broken.  Someone (me) had apparently over-tightened it and part of it was broken and stuck inside.  (I know, Darrell.  I know.  Don’t over-tighten.)  Unsure of how to get that piece out without dropping orange plastic bits into the gear area, we decided to call someone for help and figured we would have to wait until Monday.  The City Marina suggested for weekend help that we call Dave from Moxy Marine Services, who lives with his wife on their sailboat just a few docks over from where we were docked.  I called and he was able to come right away.  He got the piece out, and he called a friend who has spare parts and was able to find us a used dipstick, which normally sells for $120(!) for a more reasonable $40.  So by the end of the day, we were set to go again. 

In rechecking the weather, we decided to go to Plan B and do our overnight to Wrightsville Beach and then go up the ICW two days to Beaufort.  This ended up working well.  The waves had come down from 4-5 feet to 2-3 feet.  This also meant that the wind had come down to 10-15 knots, rather light, but we were able to sail at least one third of the way and motor sailed the rest.  And no precipitation is always a plus.  We had to go a long way around Frying Pan Shoals off of Cape Fear, but we were glad that we did this trip because we covered a lot of miles northward in one hop.

 

After anchoring in Wrightsville Beach, a family beach town we’d visited on foot on our last visit, we ate supper, went to bed early and slept well.  We left early the next morning to time our low tide passing under a 65-foot fixed bridge and headed for Mile Hammock Bay in Camp Lejeune, a US Marine Corps Base.  Once we passed the bridge later in the morning, we raised the jib and sailed the rest of the day with the current helping us out the entire way doing 4.0 to 4.5 knots.  It was soooo quiet and peaceful.  We were delighted.  We anchored at Camp Lejeune where the helicopter/planes were practicing until about 10:00 at night.  It was somewhat loud, but we didn’t mind and were grateful that the camp provides a protected little anchorage for us cruisers. 

 

Sailing along on the river

Happy face house

Rising early again the next morning, we put the pedal to the metal to get under the first 65-foot bridge while it was still a fairly low, though rising, tide.  No problema.  After that, we jib-sailed, again with the current in our favor, slowly for the next 20 miles.  We wanted to allow the high tide to peak, then fall low enough so we would be able to cross under the next 65-foot bridge.  We had another lovely, lazy sail till mid-afternoon.  We arrived at the Atlantic Beach Bridge just before 2:00.  I’d just read in our guide book that several cruisers had reported that the bridge does not really provide 65 feet of clearance at high tide.  We’d been under it twice before with no problems, but reading this was a bit unsettling, especially because even though we’d been sailing slowly, we arrived earlier than I’d wanted. 

As we approached, I looked through the binoculars at the tide board at the base of the bridge…barely at 65 feet.  At this time also, three power boats were zooming in and would pass us at the same time making wakes that could bounce our mast right into the underneath side of the bridge.  “No!  Come about!”  We turned the boat around and decided to wait an hour.  We slowly sailed up current…one knot, while boats zipped past, probably wondering what in the heck we were doing.  Right at that time, Jessica phoned to wish Dave a happy birthday.  Perfect timing!  After the call we made another pass in front of the tide board.  Only a bit over 65 feet, so we delayed awhile longer and took another lap upstream.  At 3:15, we found there to be enough clearance at 65.5ish, so under we went.  No problem, but it was close.  The timing of low tide is not an exact science, so we’re glad for the bridges that have tide boards as not all do.

Beaufort pirate ship!

The anchorage in Beaufort is always crowded and this time was no different.  It took quite a while to find a good spot to anchor.  By the time we settled in, it was nearly 7:00, and between worrying about the 65-foot bridge and finding a place to anchor, we were worn out.   But, being that it was Dave’s birthday, we found our second wind, dropped the dinghy and rowed over to the dock.  We saw a shaggy though friendly looking sailor at the marina and asked if we could tie our dinghy next to his boat so we didn’t have to row all the way to the dinghy dock.  He obliged.  I wish I’d gotten a photo of him because he is the quintessential single-hander dude.  Slightly grizzled, with a black bandana attempting to hold back sun-bleached scruffy dark curls (and conceal a receding hairline), tattoos covering his tanned arms, chest and back, a slight paunch, a few gray hairs and laugh lines edging dark though merry eyes, dressed in dirty cut offs.  “My name is Temple,” he said in his Florida drawl as we shook each other’s hands.  He’s sailed his Morgan sloop up the East Coast solo.  He’d just come in from two nights out and got hammered by 65-knot winds and eight-foot seas, 60 miles out.  (Glad we missed that fun!)  He said his cabin looked as if someone had gone below and just threw things all over, even into the engine compartment, but he was pleased at how White Pearl had handled the rolling seas.  He has a friend in Rhode Island who wants him to visit, but Temple’s not sure about spending the winter there because he really doesn’t like the cold.  We emphasized that it will, indeed, be cold in Rhode Island in the winter.  It’s funny that he’s not sure if he wants to go there, but he’s already about halfway there!  What a character.  Maybe we’ll cross paths with White Pearl again. 

1709 home, the oldest in Beaufort

Dave and I had a nice dinner at the Dock House where there was no doubt that we were in the south.  Dave had flounder – a mound of flounder – which was deep fried and came with French fries and a scoop of shredded cabbage with a sweet mayo dressing.  I had shrimp and grits and, man, was it spicy but delicious.  Between my dish and the bloody Mary, my lips were burning!  But it was a good burn.

In Beaufort we visited the Old Burying Grounds, a place we’d missed on the two previous visits.  It is a fascinating graveyard going back to the Revolutionary War period.  Perhaps the most unusual was one grave that was covered with toys and trinkets.  The story is that in the mid-1700s, an English family, including an infant daughter came to Beaufort.  When the girl was much older, she had a desire to see her homeland and persuaded her mother to allow her father, a sea captain, to take her.  The father promised the mother that he would return the daughter safely.  The girl enjoyed her visit to London but died on the voyage home.  She would have been buried at sea, but her father could not bear to break his promise.  He purchased a barrel of rum from the captain, placed her body in it and brought it to Beaufort for burial. 

Old Burying Ground

Rum girl grave

There were many intriguing stories from the Revolutionary and Civil Wars, and tales of the seas abounded.  One inscription on the grave of a sea captain who died in 1879 was written:

The form that fills this silent grave

Once tossed on ocean’s rolling wave,

But in a port securely fast,

He’s dropped his anchor here at last.

 

We also visited the Watercraft Center.  It is here that wooden boats are restored and built.  Classes are given, as well.  Apparently this place is also affectionately known as “day care for senior guys”.

It rained a lot while we were in Beaufort, so we were glad to be in a calm anchorage.    On Sunday morning, we left for Oriental, just over 20 miles away.  We’d left early to pass under another 65-foot bridge at low tide, which worked out well.  We were able to get a little sailing in again, which was great.  It was fairly blustery and choppy inside Oriental Harbor, and the best place to anchor was rather close to the docks of the marina, so we stayed aboard until about 5:00 when things calmed a bit.  Oriental is a sweet little town that supports a theater for local productions.  We walked to the grocery store and had dinner at the local marina…deep fried (of course) cod, corn on the cob, garlic mashed potatoes.   Delish.  We topped it off with ice cream from the local coffee house, The Bean, and then a walk around town.

We left early on Monday, and motored in choppy seas into the wind down the Neuse River and into the Pamlico Sound.  Once we turned the corner back up into the canal into the Pamlico and Pungo Rivers, things smoothed out a bit and we were able to sail, though slowly, in light airs.  We dropped the hook in an anchorage that was new to us up Pungo Creek.  It was serene and beautiful.  Only one other boat, a catamaran, was there.  The sunset seemed to last forever and was spectacular. 

Along the peaceful Pungo River

This morning we left the clam of the Pungo Creek anchorage to have our heartbeat quicken just a couple of miles up the Alligator River – Pungo River Canal as we neared the Wilkerson Bridge, which is just 64 feet tall.  The water level board showed 64 feet and change.  Hmm…We’d been under it twice, so we knew it was possible.  Dave slowed Wayward Wind way down.  Here we go…Ting…Ting.  Our antenna just kissed the first and third girders.  Whew!  That is the last of the “iffy” bridges.  Only four more 65-footers to go before Norfolk, in addition to the seven opening bridges and one lock.  Keeps you on your toes.

A boat we passed anchored out along the way

Tonight we are relaxing at a calm anchorage on the Little Alligator River.  It is odd because it is so open, but the wind is almost non-existent, so it should be a calm night.  We had to dodge numerous fish traps to get in, but it was worth it.  Very peaceful.  Tomorrow we’ll cross the Albemarle Sound and the next day, if all goes well, we’ll be in Norfolk at the south end of the Chesapeake.  Dave tells me I need to come up to the cockpit to see the sunset.  And I always do what Dave tells me to do! 

Charleston

Samurai sunset over St. Simons Sound

On Wednesday, July 3, we left our anchorage and traveled through St. Simons Sound in southern Georgia out into the Atlantic under partly cloudy skies.  It was a bit rolly, but we were able to sail throughout the morning and afternoon, about 12 miles offshore.  Things were pretty calm. 

Around 3:00, Dave was at the helm when he told me to come up from below to see something unusual.  There was a patch of water that looked as if it were in a rolling boil.  Though we did not see them, small fish were "rustling" the water.  Just afterwards, right as a helicopter flew over our heads, ZING went the fishing line.  Funny how nothing happens, then several things happen at once.  I turned WW into the wind so Dave could reel in the fish, but I went a bit too far, so the preventer was holding the boom out to port, but the sail wanted to go to starboard.  I needed to turn on the engine.  Uh oh.  It would not start.  We focused on landing the fish, a skinny tuna, and staying calm.

Fort Sumter viewed from the Charleston inlet

I figured it was a clogged fuel filter so went below and changed both the primary and secondary filters.  Fortunately the waves had calmed down and I did not get seasick.  We tried starting the motor again and she started right up.  WHEW!  We are having a problem with the forward fuel tank.  (I believe I know what the problem is.)  She runs fine off of the aft fuel tank and ran for 15.5 hours through the night right into Charleston, so she's fine.  We'll just use that aft fuel tank until we can set it all right in Annapolis.  No worries. 



Rick and Pat in front of Snug

We met a nice couple, Rick and Pat, aboard Snug, a sweet classic motor-sailer.  They are from Ruskin, Florida and Longmont, Colorado.  They are retired and are taking their time to go up the ICW, their first trip up.  We arrived in Charleston on the Fourth of July, and decided to stay at the marina as we were pooped.  After we had a nap, the four of us ate teriyaki at a nice little Japanese restaurant, then viewed a spectacular fireworks display from the Maritime Center.  The next morning, Pat and I went for a walk through some lovely old neighborhoods.



Beautiful doorway with...



Real gas lamps!



And a place to wipe your boots after your walk

We were going to leave yesterday but I'd discovered that I'd over-tightened the dipstick cap for the gear oil.  The good news is that with the help of a local mechanic, we were able to get the ridiculously expensive $120 replacement dipstick for $40, used.  All is well now.

Tomorrow morning, we will depart beautiful Charleston through the inlet into the blue Atlantic bound for Masonboro Inlet. We plan on anchoring on Tuesday afternoon at Wrightsville Beach near the Intercoastal Waterway. The conditions are very favorable except that we hope that we have ENOUGH wind for sailing. We will probably have to turn on the Iron Jenny till the wind picks up in the afternoon. The seas are very low and NO rain is forecasted. All signs are favorable.


Lovely landscaping

Jekyll Island

Rainy Day in Georgia

Yesterday at noon, we left Fernandina beach to travel up the Intercoastal Waterway (ICW) because of these pesky thunderstorms.  No problems.  Last night we anchored at one of our favorite anchorages, Shellbine Creek, and although it drizzled most of the night, we slept peacefully.  We like the southern part of the ICW with its rural nature and were happy to see our fist osprey this morning.  Along the bank, we also saw a pinkish bird nibbling at bits in the mud.



Osprey!

Pink bird searching for breakfast

We timed our passing under a 65-foot bridge for low tide.  And I mean, it was LOW.  The water level board said 71 feet plus, which meant no problem with our 64.5-mast to pass under, but once we did, Jekyll Creek had some pretty shallow spots.  We slogged through less than 5 feet for less than a minute, but fortunately did not get stuck. 



Jekyll Island Bridge



Loooooow tide!

Now we're anchored at St. Simons Island in a "Special Anchorage" that has been set aside for boats like us.  It's blowing 25 knots and we're on the lee shore, so we have the anchor alarm on and hope the anchor holds. 

We are waiting for a good weather window to make an overnight trip to Charleston.  Might be tomorrow or the next day. 

St. Augustine to Fernandina Beach

Finally, a good Internet connection for downloading photos and enough time to write have converged at the same point in time and space!  I truly enjoy writing the blog, but it takes a lot of time not only to write but to download the photos because usually the connection gets dropped a few times.  I’ve learned to write in Word, then copy and paste.  Also I’ve learned if I have a strong connection, which is rare, I download a lot of photos which I can cherry pick later.  It feels good to get caught up again.



On June 24, we left Harbor Town Marina at Fort Pierce for an overnight trip to St. Augustine, about 170 nautical miles to the north northwest.  Even though we are heading north up the coast of Florida, we are traveling west, as well.  A local told us that Fernandina Beach was the westernmost coastal town on the East Coast and it looks that way on the charts.  For several hours, we paralleled a squall line that hovered over the Gulf Stream many miles to the east of us.  The storm cells must have been sucking the wind out of our area as we had virtually none, so the motor was on the entire 28-hour trip.  The good news is that other than a few spits and spurts, we had no squalls and, better yet, no lightning near us.  Also the seas were calm in spite of the nearby storms so the sail did not flop too much and probably caught what little wind there was to give us a slight push.  Sometimes a boring motor-sail trip is good.  We were thankful to have covered so many miles. 

 

Captain Dave, ready for sunshine or squalls

We'd heard that the inlet to St. Augustine is a little tricky.  In fact, the outer eight or so red and green channel markers are not shown on the charts because they often need to be moved due to the shifting shoals.  But we'd called Towboat US as well as the Municipal Marina beforehand to get local information - favor the red side and stay far away from green #5 - on how to approach the harbor, and we had a smooth entry. 

Entering the St. Augustine Harbor with the fort and city as seen from the water

  



Beautiful St. Augustine just before we entered the mooring field

We picked up a mooring ball at the Municipal Marina at 11:30 and, even though we were  tired, by 12:00 were on the free launch (water taxi), which runs every two hours during the day between the mooring field and the Municipal dock. A Cuban cafe was recommended to us for lunch. We had the chicken wrap and green salad special, including a glass of wine, which doesn't sound that special except that the cilantro sauce for the wrap and the basil salad dressing were dynamite!
Running on little sleep, the wine just about knocked us out; still we walked around this beautiful city that we’d visited two and a half years ago just before we bought Wayward Wind.  We caught the 4:00 launch back to the boat and went to bed early that night.

 

We awoke the next morning eager to move on, so we dropped the mooring ball, bound for Fernandina Beach about 40 miles north northwest.  We knew there would be thunderstorms over the land and again over the Gulf Stream and we were hoping they’d leave a wide clear path for us in between, which they did.  The storms caused flukey winds that clocked around from south to west to north to east.  Fortunately we were able to get some sailing in but mostly motor-sailed because the winds were just too light.  But I’ll tell you, for about three hours we paralleled the storms five miles west of us as they moved north from Jacksonville to Fernandina Beach.  I lost count of how many bolts of lightning we saw against the black sky.  I told Dave that I was hoping that the storms would burn themselves out by the time we would turn west into the St. Mary’s inlet so that it would be nice and sunny when we arrived.  And they pretty much did just that.

Just south of the St. Mary’s channel, we encountered a fleet of fishing trawlers that had their long fishing arms out dragging nets behind.  It was a bit intimidating because they constantly changed direction, but we held our steady course and managed to avoid having to go several miles out of our way to go around the entire fleet. 

 

Cannons of Fort Clinch pointed at us to welcome us to the St. Mary's inlet

Ironically the best sailing of the day was right in the St. Mary’s inlet – 20 knots on a beam reach with one reef in for about three miles.  We were flying!  It was moving to be heading back into the St. Mary’s sound on the Florida/Georgia border where a little over two years ago we cut our teeth with Wayward Wind – a returning home, of sorts.  At 7:00pm, we picked up a mooring ball at the Fernandina Harbor Marina, then dinghied in to register and take a nostalgic walk through town.  Nice to be back.

 

Lovely architecture of Fernandina Beach Post Office

This home is almost a mirror image of our D St. home in Petaluma,
minus the wrap-around porch.

When we were here before, we’d made the acquaintance of a nice couple, Kent and Vicki McKee, who own a Beneteau sailboat that is docked at Tiger Point Marina.  We gave them a call and spoke with Kent on the phone.  We had a nice chat.  Kent is a pilot who, for many years, was the chief pilot for the State of Georgia.  He said that recently he has been flying to Haiti, Ecuador and the Dominican Republic.  We mentioned that we sponsor two children in the DR and visited them while we were there.  He asked through which organization.  We told him, Childrens International, and he laughed.  The two brothers for whom he now flies are on the board of directors for Childrens International. In fact, one of them is Dan Phelan.  We met our kids at the Dan Phelan Activity Center in Santo Domingo.  What a coincidence!  Kent asked me to write an email about our experience and impressions of the organization that he would forward to Dan and Larry Phelan.

On Thursday, we dinghied over to Tiger Point Marina, where we stayed aboard Wayward Wind for the first time on a freezing cold night in early February, 2011 and stayed for the following four months preparing the boat and ourselves for our journey.  We visited with Bill Cavanaugh, the owner of the marina, and his wife, Ann.  Bill had been so supportive of us when we were green with WW.  We could never have gone off without the help of Bill and his mechanics, Walt and Dave.  We told Bill that we’d been as far north as Annapolis and as far south as Granada.  He was genuinely pleased.  He told us that he’s seen a lot of people come to the marina and spend months or even years preparing their boat and, for one reason or another, never leave the dock or end up having to sell their boat before venturing off.  He said, “But you two actually did it!  You made my day.”  We had a nice time catching up.  We missed seeing the office manager, Jackie, who was out due to back surgery.  I used to bring various samples of dark chocolate to give her a little boost in the afternoons.  This time I left a nice dark chocolate bar with a note for her.  She also was a gem to us.  After we visited with Bill and Ann, we walked around Old Fernandina, the original part of the city with its very old homes where Dave and I would take our evening walks.  We have fond memories of Tiger Point Marina and our time in Fernandina Beach. 

Old Fernandina home seen in the Pippi Longstocking movie

The past two days, we’ve rested and wandered around Fernandina.  Yesterday we rented bikes and rode to the grocery store.  Bought some Georgia peaches, pears, apricots – Yum!  The thunder storm came and we were able to ride to shelter between downpours.  Riding on the backstreets, racing before the storm, brought back not only memories, but sensations from my childhood.  So exciting. We should do this more often. 

Dave making a new friend

Lovely screened in porch and Grandmother Oak of this Grand Dame

Today we visited the Saturday morning Farmers Market that we enjoyed two years ago.  Bought some shelled peas, purple kale and corn.  Oh, and some delicious homemade cakes.  Can't wait to sample.  This evening we went for a walk and ended up having dinner at a church that is organized by the local Latin American community.  They are trying to raise funds for a down payment to buy part of the Baptist Church.  Enjoyed talking with some of the members.  And tamales and flan,  YUM!

 

There!  Now I'm caught up!

 

Next we'll head north, probably up the waterway if these thunderstorms persist, to Jekyll Island.  After that, we'd like to do an overnight on the outside (Atlantic) to Charleston, but that, as usual, will also depend on the weather.  It's supposed to become drier on Thursday, so we'll see how we progress till then.  Probably do a little meandering, just like the lazy rivers of Georgia. 



This little guy greeted us at the dinghy dock to nibble on the vegetation. 
We named him Barnacle Bill and are resisting the urge to grab the scraper and scrape those barnacles off of his back.

 

Cat Cay, Bahamas to Fort Pierce, Florida

On the morning of June 21, our weather guru gave us the thumbs up for good weather to cross the Gulf Stream to Florida.  At 0715, we pulled up our anchor and followed Manatee through Cat Cay Cut into the Florida Straits – a bit bouncy, but benign.  So long, Bahamas!

Bouncing through Cat Cay Cut

We watched Manatee hoist her sails and followed suit, but our main sail did not go up smoothly.  First, the stack pack zipper line fouled itself on a batten, then for some reason the second reef line was too taut preventing the sail from fully raising.  It was tricky because even though we pulled in the sheet, the boom was snapping several feet back and forth as Dave steered upwind through the bouncy seas.  I asked him to go to starboard just enough to keep the boom to that side but not so much as to pull the sail so taut that I could not fiddle with the reef line.  After about 15 minutes, I finally figured out that there was a kink in the reef line at the shuttle inside the boom preventing the line from fully releasing.  It was a little scary sticking my hand up in the aft end of the boom knowing that it could snap to port, but Dave did an excellent job of keeping the boat and boom steady in the rolly sea while I freed the reef line.  Sail hoisted and off we went.  We radioed Manatee, who’d been anxiously watching and knew we had a sail problem, to tell them that all was well.  We then exchanged our farewells over the VHF and waved to them as they sailed westward to Miami and we, northwest to Fort Pierce. 

Manatee, à tout à l'heure.  Fair winds!

We first met Rod and Evelyne in George Town, over a year ago, visited them briefly in Salinas, Puerto Rico two months later, then kept in touch during the year by email as we both traveled south with Manatee a few islands ahead of Wayward Wind.  Evelyne always said that we would one day sail together.  Last June, they put their boat on the hard in Grenada and flew home for the summer just before we arrived.  They returned to Grenada at the beginning of November to prepare and launch their boat as we left Grenada, so again, we just missed seeing each other.  We kept in touch and they caught up with us in Boqueron, Puerto Rico.  Finally we were able to sail together for the past month covering a lot of territory – Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic, Turks and Caicos, Bahamas.  They were a great buddy boat and gave us both moral and physical support.  We had a lot of fun together and we wish them a good, lightening-free journey around the south tip of Florida to their home in Tierra Verde near St. Petersburg, Florida. 

Yikes! We were on our own and hadn't exactly gotten off to a smooth start with the fowled reef line and my nerves a bit raw. Dave went below to rest and I was at the helm. I had a glitch with the handheld GPS and the chartplotter whose data did not agree when it came to speed. It worried me because one said we were traveling at 6.5 and the other at 4.5, which is a huge difference especially when it comes to arrival time. We did not want to be entering the Fort Pierce inlet before sunrise. No, no, no! I finally realized that I'd removed one unnecessary waypoint from the chartplotter but had neglected to remove the same waypoint from the handheld GPS. The GPS was averaging the speed to this waypoint which, at that time, was way off to port, thus the difference is speed readouts. Adding to this was the fact that it did not feel that we were traveling at 6.5 knots because the sail was luffing a bit and clunking with the easterly roll. How could this be?!? Ah, ha! We were already in the Gulf Stream which was adding about 4 knots to our speed even though through the water our speed was only about 2 knots! Wow! Certainly a new experience for me. When we'd traveled south last year, we left from Charleston and motored at an angle against the Gulf Stream to the Abacos, so it was not as noticeable, at least to me, who was green at the time.

Once we got this straightened out, we relaxed though still we did not want to arrive too early.  Even so, it was not easy to resist seeing what ol’ Wayward Wind could do.  At one point, for about five minutes, we were easily cruising in the low nines with the winds only blowing at twelve.  Pretty amazing that only twelve knots of wind could move such a large boat so quickly through the water with the help of the Gulf Stream, of course.

 

Proof that Wayward Wind was doing 9+ knots!

Through the night – the shortest night of the year – we had a lovely sail in the nearly full moon with two reefs in at 7.4 knots.  After leaving the Gulf Stream, we slowed down and arrived at Fort Pierce at 1100.  We were exhausted (but happy!) so took a slip at Harbor Town Marina because we did not want to hassle with putting the dinghy down to get to the airport to clear customs.  We called customs, got our arrival number, then took a $12 taxi ride to the airport and spent only five minutes to clear in.  Easy!  We then took a taxi to the local Publix supermarket where we replenished our vegie and fruit supplies.  The organic fresh strawberries were fantastic!  Also Dave and I shared a rare roast beef submarine sandwich on whole wheat with nearly everything on it and ice cold lemonade.  YUM!  We walked back to the boat in the heavy, hot humidity then went for a swim in the pool to cool down.  For supper, I had a bowl of Grape Nuts for the first time in a year and a half.  I was so happy that we'd made it back to the States by June 22 so that I could call son TJ to wish him a happy birthday - 35 years old!  It was great to talk with TJ and Mom.  I then went to sleep at 4:00 and did not arise until 7:00 the next morning.   We woke up the next morning refreshed and relieved that we'd made it to back to the U.S.   BTW, our phone number is 707 321-6137, so give us a call, when you can.

A bit later while down in the salon, I looked out the window and saw the side of a big motor boat passing quite closely to us.  I went above to see if I needed to fend off, but as the current here is very strong and it turned out to be a big boat, there wasn’t much I could do.  I was so impressed with how the captain slid that boat right into the slip without a problem.  Later on, as we walked by, I complimented the captain, “Nice parking job!”  We chatted a bit with Captain Jim and First Mate Peter, who were both obviously highly skilled.  A few minutes into the conversation, Captain Jim admitted that he didn’t really mean to come so close to WW, but the current is “wicked,” as 21-year-old Peter says, and it was pushing him quickly.  Anyway, I’m not such a big fan of motor boats, but Absolutli Rutli is a beauty.  It is only 30 years old but looks like a classic.  And Jim and Peter keep her in excellent shape.  Turns out she is owned by Thomas J. Herzfeld, known as the leading expert in closed-end funds (whatever those are).  Jim and Peter say that he is a down-to-earth guy.  They find it a pleasure to work for him and take great pride in the boat which Mr. Herzfeld recognizes and appreciates.  The next morning, I watched as Captain Jim and FM Peter skillfully maneuvered Absolutli Rutli out of her slip against the strong current, turned her around stern first and motored away bound for Titusville to meet up with the owner and his family.  It was fun to get a glimpse of the motor boat world.

 

Peter holds in  the bow while Jim moves the stern out using a lot of throttle!

 

 

 

 



Captain Jim in action.  Love the hat!

Enthusiastic First Mate Peter shouts, "This current is wicked!"

What a classic beauty.  So long, Absolutli Rutli.

Across from us was a beautiful Amel sporting a Norwegian flag.  Curiously it was named, Clitorius.  We later met Clitorius' owners, Ingrid and Svain (sp?), at the marina restaurant.  Ingrid is bubbly and Svain is a pony-tailed, cigar-smoking, straw hatted, bead-wearing friendly guy with an endearing chuckle.  They are in their fifties and were able to take a year off to travel with their two children, 16 and 20, along with another friend, Tore.  That's five people on 51 feet of boat! They said the only difficult part was passing along the North Sea with a forecast of 35 knots that turned out to be 60 knots.  That’s a lot of wind!!  Ingrid said she thought she was going to die, and she wasn’t sad for herself because she had lived her life but she was sad for her children because they were so young, and she was MAD at her husband.  Plus she and the kids were dreadfully seasick.  But she said she trusted Svain at the helm and learned that the boat could handle it, so now she, herself, feels that she could handle almost anything and says, “Bring it on!”  They sailed to Bermuda, then through the Caribbean and now are on their way back to Norway.  We also met Kevin, an nice American guy who is on a Gozzard 36 (just like Manatee). 

We thought that perhaps “clitorius” meant something “different” in Norwegian.  Nope.  It’s the same thing.  Svain said that when they traveled to the English-speaking islands, a customs agent handling the paperwork would suddenly smile, enthusiastically say, “I like the name of your boat!”  And stamp, stamp, stamp, “You’re approved!”  This happened more than once.  So now we know – if you want to clear customs quickly, name your boat after certain female anatomical parts.  Hmm…wonder if the same holds for male anatomical parts…Testaclese...Nah.


Linda, Svain (the Norwegian young Sean Connery) Ingrid, Kevin, Dave