Long Day Through Skinny Waters

Wednesday, April 29th: Anchorage at Butler Island in the Maccamaw River, South Carolina

The weather is warm and the scenery, beautiful. Through Georgia and now into South Carolina, parts of the waterway are lined with bush or stands of trees. Sometimes there is marsh land spreading from the water edge and back to meet wooded areas.

Today we are going through miles of marsh sometimes with trees in view and sometimes not. At times, rows of houses and docks appear, the docks ending in a small deck area covered by a green or peach coloured roof. Usually, there is a boat raised out of the water and sitting on a supports beside the deck. The dolphins are ever present showing a fin here and there and sometimes arching out of the water - occasionally one or two appear directly in front of the boat and then disappear under the water - sliding away from the approaching hull.

In spite of the scenery and warm temperatures, we are not so relaxed. Since our grounding, we are more keenly aware of unpleasant possibilities. During our turn at the wheel, each of us is especially vigilant to follow the deep water: staying close to the GPS magenta line indicating the centre of the channel and also noting water depths. Falling depths send an alert - magenta line or not, should we move the boat over closer to the shore? closer to the green or red marker?

This morning we were delayed by a bridge with restricted rush hour opening hours. From the marina in Charleston where we spent the night, we estimated an hour and a half to reach the bridge. To get through the bridge, we either had to arrive before 7 or after 9. Beating the 7 o'clock deadline meant starting out before the sun came up - something we perhaps should have considered more seriously since the 9 o'clock opening put us on the water well after low tide. That means that we traveled for a while through the morning and into the early afternoon on a rising tide - a good thing - but as the day has progressed, the tide had reached it's peak and begun to fall. We weren't happy to be traveling through areas of "skinny water" as the tide fell. One particularly troublesome area had 2 ranges to help navigate a narrow channel with shallow edges. For non boaters: A range consists of 2 markers, one set in front of the other - the boater is meant to steer the boat in a line running from one marker to the next. The trick is to place the boat so that you see the closest marker sitting directly in front of the one behind it. On the channel we came through, the ranges were behind us, so Bob had to turn and look back to line the markers up. I sometimes steer following a range but not this time - Bob is better at keeping his cool when the stakes are high - and the tide is low. To make it all interesting, while we were moving through a narrow part of the channel just before the range would appear, we saw the top of a tall tug around the bend. As the tug and a long train of equipment trailing behind turned the corner, we were caught in a thin strip of water between Sea Change and a green square marking the edge of deep water. Bob slowed to a crawl and as the tug and it's snaking floating cargo passed by, we watched the depth sounder fearing that we would be forced into shallow water. (It was already shallow enough.) When the last of the load passed by, we breathed a sigh of relief and then settled down to look out for the next challenge. Such experiences aren't so bad - they keep us fully engaged and prevent thoughts of stock prices and swine flu.

We were feeling so gung-ho that we bypassed our destination point (Georgetown - it was too late to go ashore for walking anyway) and continued on to an anchorage listed in Skipper Bob's book. Meanwhile I went below and got dinner ready so that we could eat soon after we anchored (a curried chicken and rice dish, vegetables, salad). Finally at almost 7, we arrived at another of those adventure experience sites - Skipper Bob's descriptions are extremely succinct and leave a lot to of decision making up to the captain - basically, anchor north or south of this island (that seems to be in the middle of nowhere) and get in close (presumably where the water is a better depth for anchoring). After we cruised up the side of Butler Island for several minutes, Bob selected a spot shown on the chart to be more shallow than surrounding water and we dropped the hook. There was no one in sight - just water and trees around. On days like this, I always feel as though we are taking a huge chance - that is until the anchor is down and all is well - as it always is.

We traveled 63 nautical miles today - a long, long way to go in a slow boat on the ICW.

Looking at Butler Island - where we anchored.

It Happened to Us

Friday, April 24th: Thunderbolt Marina - Again

The question is, after you have talked about the mistakes others make that end up in a grounding, do you admit that your own boat got stuck in ICW mud? And do you admit to being at the wheel? - and even though you were within the marked channel, do you admit to not having followed the magenta line on the chart as you should have - even though entering a very tricky section? How can that be explained? I won't try.

The truth is we were stuck well and good this afternoon as we attempted to travel north of Thunderbolt. The short story is that we were the 6th boat that the Towboat US fellow had pulled out of the same spot this week - and when he tried to pull us off - and he was pulling for quite some time - the bridle attached to the 2 cleats at the bow of the boat slipped up around the anchor, pulled the anchor against the anchor roller - and bent the roller considerably. After all that, we decided to return to the Thunderbolt Marina where we know there is a good marine yard and where Bob hopes they'll be able to straighten out the roller.

This morning before we left Thunderbolt, when the boat came out of the water, the rudder was fine, the hull was free of growth and and there was no problem with the "cutlass bearing". However, the zinc on the end of the prop had worked itself off - and was gone. The zinc on the prop shaft was in tact and just a little corroded although Bob took the opportunity to put on a fresh one. This all means that the engine knock is still unexplained. The mechanic suggested that we continue on - that the knocking might have been the now missing zinc clanging around before it came off completely - but if the sound was still there after we ran the engine today, that we should have someone look at again in Charleston and do the "next step" which is to see if it's a transmission problem (that's the best recount of all this that I can do).

While underway (and before we went aground), we were still hearing the knock so now that we have returned to Thunderbolt to have the bow roller repaired (we hope), we'll have the knocking investigated further as well. Bob has already talked to the manager of the yard and they will be ready for us Monday morning - to look at the anchor roller which they think they may be able to bend back into place and also they will have a Yanmar mechanic there to check whatever (re the knock).

Saturday, April 25th: Thunderbolt Marina

What do we do when you have a free day on a boat? - we pull everything apart to find all the stuff we know is hidden away but we've put off looking for. A key item Bob pulled out of some deep hidden spot was no-see-um proof netting that he bought back in Toronto. Today we'll cut some pieces to fit into the ports that we like to leave open at night. Spraying the screens with insect repellent works only up to a point: in the morning we've been waking up with fresh bites.

And what does Bob do when he has a problem on the boat and time to mess about? He can't leave it alone - he has to try to solve the problem. This morning Bob had his head in behind the engine listening for the knock, trying stuff and listening again. In the end, he raised up the engine a little, tightened down the screws and the sound is gone. He's hoping that he's fixed it. Guess what he's doing now? He's got tools out and he's trying to straighten the side of the anchor roller.

Postscript:

Bob was able to bend back the side of the anchor roller and walked up to the marine store to buy a new roller (the piece that anchor rolls over while being threaded through the whole roller --- thingy). It's fixed.

We won't be staying until Monday so as to go into Thunderbolt Marine yard; instead, tomorrow morning, we'll leave early to catch the high tide and resume our trip through the dreaded Georgia ICW.

Travels in Georgia

Thursday, April 23: Kilkenny River, Georgia

Bob reading while I'm at the wheel. The air is cool on the water and we had the sides of the enclosure down.


Once underway, just before 7 this morning, I took my turn at the wheel while Bob ate, and then after having my own cereal and coffee, I settled down to plan the next couple of days of travel toward Charleston: How many miles would we travel each day? Could I match the miles with good places to stop at the end of the day? Since our stay in the Exumas, we have become used to life at anchor and are more inclined to look for good anchorages than for good marinas. When we've reached a destination, we like not having to pull out and fasten fenders and lines. We like not worrying about getting into a boat slip in strong winds or current. We like not having to pay - and in the morning, if winds are brisk, it's so much easier to up anchor than to get away from a dock. Admittedly, it's still nice to change up now and again and put in at a marina where we have the luxury of stepping off onto a dock.

Our experience anchoring on the ICW for the better part of a week has taught us to add a new criteria when choosing an anchorage - protection from winds and waves is top of the list, of course, not too much current is good, and scenic is nice, but for at least one in two nights, we want an anchorage where there's a spot to land the dinghy and go for a walk. In the Exumas, this wasn't an issue: there was always a sandy spot close by where we could beach the dinghy and go exploring.

Last night we anchored in the Frederica River beside Fort Frederica State Park. From our boat we could see the small stone structure and canons that remained from the original fort. The area itself is lovely - thick with trees and what looks like a walking trail from the fort through the park - but the dock that used to allow anchoring boaters to land their dinghies had been removed. Unless you come in through the front gate (where ever that is! - not any where in sight) and pay (I assume), you aren't allowed to land. So as lovely as the spot was to look at, this was our 2nd day of not being able to get off the boat. The afternoon before we had taken a mooring ball at Fernandina with the intention of going into the pretty little town for a walk - but the winds were too strong and water too choppy for lowering and riding on the dinghy. As a result, our time to stop today was dictated in part by the location for this anchorage in the Kilkenny River - the river is deep (no worries about sandbars), it's well protected and --- there's a marina here with a dinghy dock. Immediately after putting the hook down, we lowered the dinghy, lowered and attached the motor and headed in. (After all our practice, we can be ready to go in 15 minutes.) There's not a lot around the Kilkenney marina - just a few homes - but there are blocks of land covered with bush and tall trees and among them, majestic Live Oaks with Spanish moss hanging from their branches. It was a beautiful place to walk.

That small boat seen through the trees is Sea Change anchored in the Kilkenny River.

We're in no-see-um season - in no-see-um country and in the late afternoon, the bugs appeared - so having had a brisk walk around Kilkenny, it was quick back to the boat. I now know that I was not being bitten by no-see-ums in the Abacos - the mysterious bugs that were making a meal of me at West End, our first stop in the Bahamas, were sand fleas - a common insect there that bit me intermittently all through the the northern Bahamas but left me alone when we headed south. The little beggars here may be called no-see-ums, but they're quite visible as they circle around us, land, and nip away. Their bites are small but itch just the same. In the evening, we have taken to closing up most of the boat. Fortunately, the nights are fairly cool so we're not left roasting. Bob has used insect propellant to spray the curtain screen that we tie over the companion way and also the screens in 2 ports that we leave open. It seems to be working. Without the spray, ordinary screens won't keep out these pests.

Friday, April 24th: On Our Way to the Marina at Thunderbolt

Our daily entertainment as we chug along is listening to conversations on the VHF. (Everyone does.) For the last couple of days there have been several calls from the coast guard to vessels "in distress". Today, there was a 46 ft. fish boat taking on water that set off an EPURB and was then hailed by the Jacksonville coast guard. The boat was in the Gulf of Mexico but the coast guard here just happened to pick up the signal. Yesterday there was a boat in trouble somewhere off the Florida coast. The coast guard, as usual, put out a call to any vessel in the vicinity to stand by the boat in distress until they could get there. A US warship responded and was waiting until a coast guard helicopter arrived. That would be something wouldn't it? - to have a warship sitting near you while you waited for a helicopter to lift you off your boat.

Another call was a general warning by a cruiser who had gone aground a few miles ahead of us. The captain was advising others to hug the shore on the green side since there was a sandbar "right in the middle of the channel". When we finally passed the grounded catamaran - it was clear that he had been traveling on the wrong side of the red markers. Was he not aware that the middle of the visual channel is not the middle of the path of deeper water marked by navigation aids and also that since he was going north, he should keep red markers to port? Perhaps as a boat with a very shallow draft, he was used to traveling outside of the markers? In any case, from his VHF conversation, he was clearly shook up to be aground but was blaming the paucity of dredging in Georgia and not his own negligence.

(Rarely used words like "paucity" have been popping into my head. I'm not sure where they come from. I have to check their meaning and spelling before I include them as I'm not always sure I'm using them correctly. I used to substitute other words when such esoteric words came to mind - but hey, it's my blog and I think I'll just keep them!)

We've chosen to stay at the Thunderbolt Marina tonight. Bob wants to see about having the boat taken out of the water so as to check the sacrificial zincs (protect other boat metals against salt water corrosion), see how much growth there is on the prop and also have a look at the "cutlass bearing" (??) - he's hearing a mysterious knocking at some engine speeds.

Up the Florida Coast

Thursday, April 16: On the Intracoastal Waterway

It was lovely to be home and today it's lovely to be back on the boat. We were up at 6 so as to make a 7 a.m. bridge opening just north of our marina at North Palm Beach. After that it was slow going as we made our way past several bridges waiting for those whose openings are restricted and requesting openings from those that open on demand. To get ourselves out early, we delayed breakfast until we were underway. It's easy to sit back and munch when you're traveling on protected waters but Bob was wound up with his new voyage angst and had determined that he should delay his breakfast until we had gone through the four bridges lined up ahead - one after another. I reminded him that his first mate is able to "do" bridges and without supervision too. The captain finally sat down to have his breakfast although it took a while for him to simmer down and trust the crew.



It's 1:00 p.m. now and there are no more bridges to call for the remainder of the day. Since the way ahead has few jigs and jags and there's a moderate wind, Bob has put out our head sail - for the fun of it, but also to save some diesel. It's a pleasantly warm sunny day and we're enjoying the Florida waterway sights: palm trees, patches of luxury homes with long docks jutting out in parallel lines, and the occasional dolphin sliding along nearby. We've fallen into our waterway travel habits: tea and a cookie or toast mid morning or mid afternoon.Turns at the wheel while the other stretches out to read the novel of the week, to study the map, or to read the waterway guide about what's up ahead. We both spend a fair amount of time looking at options for dropping the anchor at the end of the day - how soon? and which would be the best spot? For me - there's entering GPS way points - not for finding our way on the well marked waterway but to calculate distances and times of arrival. Sometimes I putter below, do a little blogging or journal writing and some predinner preparation.

Since we are back in a climate that deposits heavy dew during the night, each morning Bob takes a cloth forward to wipe up the dew and with it salt sprayed on the deck the day before. Sometimes he works at scrubbing away rust from the stainless steel all around the boat - the downside of traveling in salt water: for this he uses a wax cleaner compound and a toothbrush. It seems that lately we encountering the effects of salt everywhere - the sticky zipper on my rain jacket and backpack - the shackle on the dinghy painter (line to attached to the dinghy) that has seized up.

This morning we heard Mary Mursell on the VHF hailing a bridge for opening so we knew Southern Vectis was close by. We had not seen them since Marsh Harbor in the Bahamas. When I called Mary said that they were just leaving the St. Lucie river and pulling onto the ICW. I looked up to see Southern Vectis turning just ahead. How coincidental is that? Bill and Mary are on their way to Fort Pierce where they will leave Southern Vectis "on the hard" until they return next winter. Since we've decided we'll anchor at Fort Pierce just outside the marina - we've asked them to join us for dinner at the el cheapo (but tasty) Italian restaurant just up the hill - and so - the crews of Sea Change and Southern Vectis cross paths one last time before we all head north.

Friday, April 17th: From Fort Pierce to Addison Point (near Cape Canaveral)

Another mild sunny day. We left our anchorage and called the North Fort Piece Bridge for an opening at 6:50 this morning. We plan to travel close to 60 nautical miles today (a long way in sailboat terms). Our goal is to put in a few long days and get under the Bridge of Lions at St. Augustine on Sunday. From Monday on, the bridge will be closed all day for 2 months. Boats needing an opening can go through before 7 a.m. or after 9 p.m. We prefer not to be among the crush of boats waiting on the early morning openings after April 19th.

Barb (Plumpuppet) phoned yesterday to say that where they are - just north of the Florida border. It was cool and very windy yesterday and will be today as well. They are anchored at Cumberland Island in Georgia and will stay an extra day waiting for promised better weather tomorrow. We could be heading into cool weather - or will we be lucky enough to have the sun and moderate winds follow us north? I suggested to Barb that if they keep getting held up by bad weather and we keep moving forward in good weather, we'll be able to catch up but she was doubtful: "How would that work?", she said.

Saturday, April 18th: From Addison Point to Daytona

That sounds kind of exciting, right - to be in Daytona? But we are only anchored here - beside the ICW and ready to leave tomorrow at our now more or less usual departure time, 6:45 a.m. We walked around a bit when we were here on the way "down" - nice - what we saw of it - but we have a mission - to get to St. Augustine by Sunday - and then maybe to Charleston to meet Barb and Ken - but maybe we'll run out of steam and just sit somewhere and catch our breath. Now our progress yesterday - that was something. We aimed for 60 nautical miles but decided to put in some extra time and kept going until 6 p.m. - past Cocoa Beach (our original destination) and all the way to Addison Point where we anchored beside a bridge and causeway - not awfully picturesque but secure. Part of the view - past the bulldozers near the causeway, was the Kennedy Space Centre.

When we reached Addison Point, we had covered 70 nautical miles (that's about 80 statute miles) - in 11 hours. We were motor sailing with a partially furled head sail out and favorable winds. Putting a full sail out is not an option since it would compromise visibility (on one side) and we need to easily see those green squares and red triangles marking the dredged channel.




Leaving Addison Point: The sun rises beside the Kennedy Space Center







The parade of boats going north. The boat with the red sail is Radical Jack - a 30 ft. sailboat that the owner built himself and sailed from Nova Scotia to the Bahamas. We met Peter and Heather at Green Turtle Cay.



Our excitement today came when after listening for a while to a strange sounds coming from the engine (ones that I didn't hear), Bob decided to go below and look at the engine - first by pulling the stairs up to see the engine underneath them and then emptying some of the various stored materials out of the stern bunk and pulling up the cover to reveal the back of the engine. There was a bolt lying on the floor underneath the "coupling" to the propeller shaft. Oh Oh. That meant that things were rattling around that shouldn't be.

Bob appeared at the companionway and told me to put the boat in neutral - now! I turned to consider the boat following very close behind - "I have a boat right behind me Bob" - my response was taken as an argument (I'm known to argue) - Bob issued a more "forceful" order - I pulled Sea Change to the side and waved on the boat behind. "Don't put the boat in gear - whatever you do!" yelled Bob - well OK - fortunately there weren't other boats nearby - and though the wind was pushing the boat a little it wasn't going anywhere that was - well - "bad". Meanwhile, I noticed that the boat behind me, Panache, had gone in the wrong direction, missed the turn to follow the ICW route and was meandering this way and that - obviously confused. I tried to call him on the VHF - no response. Eventually, Panache turned around - and I waved him over to tell him that his VHF wasn't receiving. Bob appeared at the companionway again - "What's wrong? What's going on? What are you doing??" Of course, you must understand that through all of this I was very calm - always speaking in the most dulcet of tones and smiling sweetly. To end the story, Bob replaced the bolt, located a nut to secure it and told me that I could put the boat in gear and move ahead. Not long after all that - I relinquished the wheel, grabbed my book - and escaped. Being at the helm isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Sunday, April 19th: Daytona to St. Augustine

When this trip was originally thought of a couple of years ago, the original plan included shipping the boat back from Florida. I said I would go since going one way only made the whole thing sound easier - but now I am quite happy to be staying the course and for those who wonder - I am quite enjoying the return trip. Most of the time, I feel as though I've swallowed a great big relax pill - except for yesterday, except for a while this afternoon :)

Back in St. Augustine

We arrived today at St. Augustine by 2:30 - went through the Bridge of Lions, anchored on the north side, lowered the dinghy and took it into the marina dinghy dock. After 2 1/2 days on-board, it was time to get off the boat and get some exercise of a different kind. We walked along some of the less busy streets south of the main street and went for a tour of "The Oldest House". The little Polish restaurant where we had hoped to buy some cabbage rolls for dinner was sold out so we came back to the boat for our standby dinner - where meat is replaced by scrambled eggs with cheese grated on top. Our meal hit the spot as it included baked beans, sliced tomatoes, corn on the cob and cole slaw.

We're off again tomorrow but have yet to look at options and decide how far we'll go. We are experiencing warm spring like weather and the winds are perfect - I'm looking forward to the new day.

Home and Then Back

Thanksgiving dinner at our house.

Some of the family that we left behind today: Krista, Tawny and Jake.

After a productive few days at home - plowing through mail, tying up the many loose ends lying about, and enjoying time with the kids and a few Markham friends - we are back on the boat - having arrived in Fort Lauderdale just after 1:00 a.m., driven to North Palm Beach - done some grocery shopping, packed it all away, returned the rental car, had dinner at a nice fish restaurant and walked back to the boat to get ready for an early morning start.

We're off again tomorrow and this time we're heading north.

Visiting Friends / Waiting to Go Home

Friends Forever
Bob Crawford, my Bob, Brian Carley, Keith Kinniburgh

We had a great weekend of visiting with friends. On Friday night, Keith and Catherine Kinniburgh drove up from Fort Lauderdale where they are vacationing. We haven't seen the Kinniburghs for at least 2 years so it was really great to spend time with them and catch up on all that's happened. Then on Saturday, we rented a car and drove to Naples to stay the night at Brian and Tracey's condo. Bob and Bev Crawford came for the night as well - and the Kinniburghs made another drive to join the group for the evening. The guys have been friends since the olden days when they were salesmen at General Foods and it's a rare pleasure when they can reconnect.

We're back at the boat now waiting to fly home. Since our fares will cost much less if we fly on Thursday rather than on Monday, we have some time to kill. We are using the time to clean out and organize but - today we went to a movie to escape the heat - over 90 degrees is a little too hot in a stationary boat without air conditioning but the wind is whipping up tonight preceding a big drop in temperature. I can't say that I'll be sorry to see the cold front arrive.

It just happens that we have managed to be home for Easter - so we'll have Sean and Michelle and Krista for an Easter dinner on the weekend. It feels good to be able to touch base with the kids before we continue on our journey. We'll also get our mail sorted out, income tax papers in order and deal with whatever unknowns may await us.

We're flying back a week from Wednesday and all going well, we'll begin our journey north the following day.

New Friends & the Crossing

Wednesday, April 1st: Lake Worth, South Anchorage

Having drinks at Green Turtle Cay Club

Below: The Whale Crossing Group on board Wind Dancer

Karen (Sandcastle), Lee (Wind Dancer), and Peter (Osprey)

Sally, Conrad, and David (It's About Time)

We're very relieved to have completed our second "crossing" and to be safely at anchor in the U. S. of A. After traveling since 8:00 a.m.on Monday morning, we came in through the Lake Worth inlet at about 2:00 this afternoon - 156 miles in 30 hours. I'm not sure that we would have done the long haul had it not been for a strong "let's go" feeling prompting us to take advantage of the short weather window and also Barb and Ken's calm assertion that they were going to start from Green Turtle on Monday and just keep going. If they could, then, we thought, why not us? So 3 sailboats: Sea Change, Plumpuppet and Flawless D, set out Monday morning and sailed through a beautiful day with moderate winds and almost flat water.

After sunset our collective mood changed. Briefly, a crescent moon shone a narrow ribbon of light on the water and then disappeared leaving us surrounded by the black night. We could see nothing but each other's navigation lights - and I know we were all thankful that other boats were close by. At 1 a.m., just before leaving the Bahama Bank to go into the much deeper Atlantic water, we stopped to anchor for 2 hours near Memory Rock. We women admit saying to ourselves - are we crazy? We are dropping anchor in the middle of nowhere and hanging on the hook with no protection in a pitch black night - with some 50 miles of ocean ahead to cross! In truth, we were sitting close together with anchor lights on and we were not in danger. In spite of creepy thoughts we went on with our plan and spent a bouncy couple of hours stretched out and resting (or sleeping for the lucky) and then called each other just before 3 a.m. so as to pull anchor and head out together. Once in the Florida Straights, there was a little wind from the SE with moderate rolling waves of 2 to 4 feet - excellent conditions for crossing the Gulf Stream. When I realized that we would likely have an easy "crossing", I for one, relaxed. For the remainder of the night, Bob and I took turns - one at the wheel, one stretched out in the cockpit. I must say though, I was very glad to see first light and the visibility it brought.

The fun was not over though - not long after we anchored in the Lake Worth harbour, the sky darkened ominously, the wind picked up and spikes of lightening appeared in the sky. What followed was the worst storm we have ever experienced - the wind went to 40 knots, a bolt of lightening hit the mast of a boat anchored just behind us (and fried the electronics at the top) and then rain came down in sheets so thick that we couldn't see beyond our cockpit. Thank God, we said, that we had arrived early in the afternoon and did not have to pass through the storm while under way.

We're breathing easy now - Bob phoned customs and has our clearance number and tomorrow morning, along with Barb and Ken, we'll dinghy over to collect Kathy and Jim (Flawless D) at their marina - and then we'll all make our way to Immigration. After that we have friends to see and a trip home to plan. The coming days will be busy ones.