Isle of Hope and More

We had hoped to head south, but for several reasons including our lack of experience and ability, Conan felt that we were not ready to go offshore, so he left the boat.  It was the right thing to do.  After much discussion, we are now heading north on the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) bound for the Chesapeake Bay.  Not quite as exotic as the Caribbean, but that will hopefully come later.  We feel that it is best to become completely familiar with Wayward Wind, learn ALL of her systems, and become comfortable with how she sails and motors before taking a long journey. 

We started south but had a bumpy motor into the wind only to Mayport (outside of Jacksonville) where we stayed the night at a marina.  After Conan left, Dave and I regrouped and made the decision to head north.  That afternoon, Dave and I sailed about five miles offshore back up to Fernandina Beach where we anchored out near the marina.  We had a wonderful sail up the coast and made good time with a 15 knot south wind behind us.  (Hope to upload some videos here when we have a stronger internet connection.)

In Fernandina Beach, we had a refrigeration guy look at our system because it seems to be cooling very slowly, but he tells us that the system is fine, so that's good.  On the blustery sail back from Mayport, our bimini ripped.  I was about to try stitching it myself when a neighbor at the dock recommended an older fellow, Roy Durden, who lived just down the road, "the first two-story house on the left with several boats in the backyard and he does good work and 'll give you a good deal and he's a character."  So we rolled up the bimini and walked about 20 minutes in the heat of the afternoon to Roy's house.  It was an old house that used to be white surrounded by lots of trees and the landmark backyard boats.  It was one of those places where the residents don't use the front door, so you're not quite sure if you should go up to the back door, which entered a screened-in porch, but we did.  A few moments after knocking, a bespectacled, white-haired gentleman sporting a white tank-T-shirt, blue jeans and suspenders came to the screen door.  He greeted us and then told us that his wife wasn't feeling well.  After telling him our canvas dilemma, he said, "Let's roll it out on the hood of the truck and see what we can do," and he gingerly walked bare-footed over to his dusty white Ford pick-up.  After several moments of scrutinizing "mmm's,"  he said that he could indeed make the repairs (actually there were several small tears, too).  He asked if we were leaving right away because he didn't normally work on Sunday but would if we were in a hurry, otherwise he'd have it ready the next afternoon.  We told him that would be fine.  Then we had one of those conversations that you don't want to end.  He asked where we were going and gave us many sage pieces of advice as to what areas to avoid on the ICW and what to see.  He would slowly say, "When you know these waters as well as I do, (fill in the blank) you'll want to stay right next to the shore of Cumberland Island."  We found out later that he taught at the local college and both he and his wife hold more than one Master's degree.  The next afternoon, Roy's wife, Linda, called to let us know that Roy would drive the bimini over to the dock.  So kind.  And the work was beautiful!  And a good deal, too.  But the best deal was having the pleasure of spending some moments with this wise man.

Also while in Fernandina Beach, we met a wonderful couple on Compass Rose, a fine ketch with lots of woodwork done by Ray and varnished by his wife, Bonnie.  Hailing from New Hampshire, they have that fabulous way of saying "chaht" and "hahbah."  They offered to drive us to town in their van, which was so sweet, so I asked them for a ride to the "hahdware store" and knew that they were rubbing off on us.  We went together to the Shrimp Festival, which, I might add, is gigantic!  Many streets blocked off for art, antiques, and shrimp, of course.  And GREAT music!  Afterwards we enjoyed dinner together at Applebees.  Each year, Bonnie and Ray spend several months sailing in the Caribbean.  Sounds like a good plan to me.  They will put their boat on the hard for the summer while they go home, then travel south again in January or February.  They told us that if we're ready, we can travel together.  We had them over for "suppah" (love it!) on Wayward Wind and great conversation.  Ray says often, "It's supposed to be fun."  Note to self.  

We have spent the last several days motoring - sometimes with the jib hoisted adding to our speed - up the rivers and sounds of Georgia and are now in South Carolina on Bull Creek off of the Cooper River.  Until Isle of Hope, we've anchored out at night away from civilization.  Except for navigating the shallow waters, it's been a mostly relaxing loll.  This will give you a taste:  Rollin' on the River.

And here is another that I call "Dave's Exercise in Futility, Flies."

On Tuesday afternoon, 5/3, we motored to Cumberland Island less than an hour away and anchored out.  The next day we had a lovely hike on Cumberland Island.  So peaceful and lush with moss dripping off the live oak trees.  Years ago, Andrew Carnegie's brother and his wife bought many acres there and built several buildings, most of which are is varying degrees of ruin.  Now only wild horses and other animals inhabit this part of the island, a National Seashore. 

On 5/5 we motored up the Cumberland River to Shellbine Creek - the quietest anchorage for the most peaceful night's sleep in three months.  Before bed, we watched rays jumping fully out of the water and slapping back down, belly flop style.  Awesome! 

The next day we motor-sailed with the jib up and anchored at Jekyll Island.  We invited "neighbors" Jim and Elaine on the trawler The Last One over for a visit along with their cute Lhasa Apso mix.  They are from Nova Scotia and Newfoundland.  Elaine says that Nova Scotia is actually not that cold because of the Gulf Stream effect.  Jim solved the mystery of our hand pump so we could finally pump up the dinghy all the way.  Later we scooted from the boat to the nearby marina in a flash.  But there looming above the river ahead of us was the Jekyll Island Bridge, supposedly 65 feet tall, to be faced in the morning.  Our mast is 63 feet with about two feet of wind vane, antenna, lightening dissipater and such on top.  Will we make it?

We left early the next day at low tide where the marker said 68 feet.  A bearded fellow was standing on his boat watching, waiting for a disaster, or so I thought to myself.  I called, "Do you think we'll make it?"  He said, "Plenty to spare!"  He was right!  We made it.  Our first bridge!  Whew!  Only 61 more to go!

We seem to be averaging five (the ICW is measured in statute mileage) miles per hour.  The next day we traveled 50 miles in eleven hours with an hour detour up a side river for diesel.  Anchored out on the Sapelo River at the Mud River confluence.  Although it was wide and open, it was another beautiful and quiet anchorage.  The next day we encountered our first low bridge.  I used the VHF handheld to radio the bridge tender that we were coming so that he would raise it.  He replied abruptly," What is your hailing port?"  I thought, "Oh, no!  I did something wrong.  We're in trouble!"  I said, "Our hailing port is San Francisco, California, Sir."  (Oh, that's really going to make a good impression here in rural Georgia.)  "You won't even have to slow down, Captain.  Bring her through," came the friendly Georgia drawl.  Whew!  The Coast Guard is not coming for us after all!  It's a little nerve racking as you approach the bridge and the cars are still going across.  Finally they stop and the bridge raises.  Dave masterfully steered her right through the opening.  The bridge tender radioed, "Y'all have a nice day."  I radioed back, "Thank you, Sir.  I was hoping that San Francisco would work for us."  "It always does," he said.  I could tell he was smiling.

The day before yesterday we anchored near a marina at Isle of Hope, Georgia.  We filled the diesel tank, pumped out the holding (poop) tank, and filled the water tank.  We did three loads of laundry and took real showers and washed our hair!  Good Lord, it's great to be clean!  We rode the marina's bikes into town to stock up on groceries at the Piggly Wiggly.  So we are set to go again.  In the afternoon, we also rode down the lane adjacent to the marina where majestic homes surrounded by ancient oaks sit watching the Skidaway River rolling by.  So beautiful.  And one had the cutest little red and white Nash Rambler parked in front.  Thinking of you, Ben Timmons!  (Ben is an Orchard View School graduate who is the proud owner of a aqua and white Nash Rambler.)

I'll add some photos and more videos to this post when we have a stronger signal, but need to get going now.  I can feel the tide changing as the boat is turning on its anchor.  We are well.  We are blessed.  Hope you all are well, too.  Much love.