Brett goes down! So do we!

We were once again at the Palace in Fernandina Beach last night as they were the only bar in town to have the Packers/Cowboys game on tv. Claude joined us for a while, but being an intelligent human being he left after the first half. Meanwhile, the bar got smokier and smokier and we were suffering from smoke inhalation, but persisted. Just after the start of the second half we met some nice gentlemen from Atlanta who were curious about our adventure. They offered to buy us a "Pirate Punch", so naturally we accepted. We chatted some more. They insisted on buying us another Pirate Punch. Whoa. We figured we would be fogged in this morning so we stayed until the end of the game and took them up on their kind offer. We watched as Brett Farve, our hero, was injured and removed himself from the game. His young replacement tried valiantly, but the nasty Cowboys went on to win the game. Poor Brett! We got back to the boat around midnight ( or a little later) and then next thing it is 7 am and we are NOT fogged in. We called Claude on the VHS and he was ready to get going. A quick cup of coffee later and we are flogging ourselves to get on the trail. The weather was not bad - cool and cloudy but not much wind and the current was going our way. We arrived in Jacksonville Beach exhausted but alive and well. Wayne is still napping! The great news is that Claude's friend Doug has arrived in the USA and is at this very moment driving up from Fort Lauderdale. What a guy! He will join us around 8pm tonight, and off we go for St. Augustine tomorrow. The pictures have nothing to do with this post, really, except that I love the one of the shrimp boat that looks like it is about to eat Cassie. Yes, that's Cassie at anchor at Hilton Head with an incoming shrimp boat behind her. The other one is from our little private beach in the Georgia swamp. We'll get some Florida pictures to share with you once Doug gets here, so everyone can get at look at our new foursome.

Connecting with Quebec!

We are happily in Fernandina Beach, expecting to watch the Packers/Cowboys game somehow. Hopefully Claude's friend Doug will join us in Jacksonville Beach. Doug: Claude would like me to ask you to be sure to bring your laptop and GPS. Cathy: Thanks for the comment! If you have the email address of Doug - can you email it to my gmail? OK, it's true we are developing a serious network of lovely Canadian friends. Last night we met Guy and Micheline aboard Pegasus. They may be waiting for us when we get to St. Augustine. If Doug can join us as well, we would be a multi-lingual troupe of 6. What fun it is to meet so many new and interesting people and share the voyage. Yes, I used the "f" word. Fun. It's starting to be fun again. The bad weather that rocked us at anchor 2 nights ago blew over, the fog lifted this morning to brilliant sunshine. We are wearing shorts and loving it. The picture of Wayne was taken in Georgia at one of our swamp stops. We spied a teeny, tiny, bit of sand amid the marsh weeds, with a lone palm tree. Of course, we got in the dinghy and pretended that we were at the beach. Now, Wayne can actually walk to a real beach. There is a phenomenal tennis facility here, but unfortunately I still can't really walk too far, never mind play tennis so I'm hoping he'll find a partner. He does not seem too unhappy about it though, since we have re-emerged into civilization we have all been feeling better. Claude's fuel filter part should be here this afternoon, and we will probably take off again tomorrow morning for the 2-day trip to Jacksonville Beach. From there another couple of decent weather days and we could make it to St. Augustine. It's amazing what some good weather and a cute little town can do for the drooping spirits of water-weary sailors.

Fabulous Fernandina - we are in Florida!

I could not be any happier than to be sitting in the incredibly friendly public library in Fernandina Beach, Florida! We were able to leave Jekyll Island yesterday on a warm and breezy 5 to 10 knot NE wind and make both the St. Andrews Sound and the Cumberland Sound with no trouble. Last night was rough at anchor, but hey, who cares, we are in Florida now! We took a mooring ball and Claude a slip at the marina as he will be engaged in engine maintenance the better part of the day - changing fuel filters and fuel pump - and we will be playing. Yes, playing! Fernandina Beach's primary employer is probably the large and fragrant paper mill just to the south of where we are moored. As long as the wind continues to blow from the north, no problem! If it blows too strongly we will have to think cautiously about where we are going tomorrow, but we hope to start journeying southward again then - provided engine maintenance is successful. We are experiencing a continuing issue with our glow plugs not receiving enough power at times to engage. This electrical quirk is concerning, but probably not life threatening since Claude removed the "bad" wires. As for the town, it is extremely cute, very touristy, caters to tourists. It has a great history as a former pirate enclave (no joke!) and has the distinction of having had the most flags flown claiming ownership of any location in the US (eight!). From the Spanish to the French, British, back to Spain, various pirates, the US, Mexico, and then finally again the US. Last night we stopped in at a saloon called "the Palace", built in 1878. It claims to be the oldest saloon in Florida continuously operating the in same location. It's pressed tin ceilings and magnificent wood carvings reminded me of some of the finer places in Marquette! We encountered the crew of the sailing vessel Sogno there, Brian and Sue, who hail from Mahhhblehead, Mass. (Marblehead is quite the ritzy address) They were so friendly, so willing to share advetures with us, that we stayed and chatted until sunset when Wayne remembered we would have to dinghy back and find the boat about 1/2 mile out in a river anchorage close to town. We found her, but in the nick of time, as it got dark moments after we got onto the boat and nobody had their masthead lights on yet. I did not have the change to ask Brian about his past life as a landlubber, but Sue explained she had been in Information Technology for all of her career, the had no kids, and so she was able to retire at 48 and start cruising full-time. Wow. Of course I would NOT trade my incredibly wonderful children for anything and I am at 48 living the cruising life, but I will certainly have to go back to work upon return. Ah, I miss them and will be so happy to see them again. At any rate, life is sure looking up. There are challenging stretches ahead on the ICW, and I read the internet updates frequently (causing Claude to laugh at me because he says as long as you stay in the middle of the channel you'll be alright...) Well, I just read that at mile 803.1 (the ICW is measured in "regular" or statute miles) there is a shoal encroaching on the starboard quarter into the midline of the channel which stopped a friend of ours dead and he ran HARD aground while in the middle of the channel. His, and other experiences with this hazard were posted on the CruisersNet website that I read as often as possible. This nice gentleman and excellent sailor, Jeff Bacon aboard Manatee (a beautiful Beneteau if I remember correctly) said that the force of the impact threw him out of his seat hehind the wheel and propelled him through the air into the forward portion of the cockpit. OK, that kind of action is not for me, so I am going to stay to port at mile 803.1 for sure. I am going to continue to neurotically read and note these updates, and stress about running aground (and other hazards) until we actually make it to Miami. Then, a whole different set of neuroses can be substituted for the present ones...but the best news is it looks like we are going to make it!

The end of the fun and games...but Florida is in sight.

We made it. Whew. We are in (on?) Jeckyll Island, Georgia. More specifically, we are tied up to the dock at the Jeckyll Island Marina, about to get some groceries. The wifi is weak, so sorry about no picture this time. But here's the word. After Charleston, our first day took us to Tom Point Creek. I think. The creeks are little creeks, just like you might imagine, surrounded by marshland. Or basically, just cutting through endless marshland. No trees. No buildings. No anything. Just a little swatch of water bisecting an endless area of what some might call swamp. We throw the anchor out and tell ourselves it was a good 25 miles! We will get up again and do it tomorrow if we can. After that, we navigated some of the nastiest shoal areas in Georgia, paying close attention to the nine foot tide (!) and timing our departure so that there might be sufficient water not to run aground in these treacherous areas. See the previous complaint about lack of US Army Corps of Engineers personnel thanks to war in Iraq = no dredging. From Tom Point Creek we got to Bass Creek. Repeat above description. From Bass Creek we got all the way to Skull Creek. Now this was actually great, as there was a marina we could dinghy to a little ways off. We did so, and found out we were at Hilton Head. We took a nice long walk. Heaven. OK, back on the boat in the morning, and our motor won't start properly. The preheat (glow plugs) function will not engage. Claude has a look at our electrical as I have a feeling this may be due to a short. YIKES!!! There is a burned out live wire which was inappropriately attached to the fuel line. The what? The fuel line? What kind of idiot would attach an electrical wire to the fuel line? Claude wants to KNOW~! Wayne says, well the guy who put the engine in I guess....Wayne won't let me identify the business entity responsible for the engine installation, but perhaps it could have been done differently. We have dodged the bullet here. Claude pulls a bunch of wires, gets us out of immediate danger, but there is much to be done yet. At least the boat won't burn due to a spark from a corroded, live wire attached to the gas line. Merci, Claude. Next day we are on the trail again, to the Wright River. Throw out anchor. Read. Repeat. Next day on the trail to Kilkenny Creek. This is the day before Thanksgiving. There is a marina at Kilkenny Creek! We are so excited to be pulling into range of civilization that I am distractedly jumping around on the boat and SMASH my foot. Nice gouge. Luckily, the resident RN stopped the bleeding, cleaned it and put on a good bandage. That will take a while to heal, but whatever. We try to figure out where the marina is, and decide it is probably the long dock with several boats tied up. We try to call on the radio, but no one answers. Just as we are going for it ourselves, a guy who looks like he walked straight out of "Deliverance" saunters out of the "marina" office and says, "bring 'er on in...". I say thanks and throw him the bow dockline because jumping out of the boat onto the dock with this foot is a really, really bad idea. The marina office sells groceries. Cans of "Beenie Weenie", cans of cocktail franks, cans of boiled peanuts, Dinty Moore beef stew in individualized portions. Pop. Beer. Chips and candy. That's it. There is a God and there is a restaurant within hobbling distance, so Wayne, Claude and I have a pre-turkey day decent dinner. Nice food. Regrettably it gives Claude serious indigestion and keeps him up all night. We try to take off the next day (Thanksgiving) but the Sound is all whipped up and we are DENIED. The dinghy tries to fly off the boat. We are NOT losing another dinghy, so we turn around with our tails between our legs and head back to the safety of Kilkenny Creek. Thanksgiving dinner is macaroni and cheese. It tastes REAL GOOD after that experience. OK, next day is nice and we make it to Wahoo River. See description for creeks. Repeat. We think we are going to make progress the next day, but again, we get to the first Sound and it cannot be crossed due to waves, wind, and weather. Back to the anchorage. We meet up with our friends on Grayling, another sailboat, at the anchorage who are taking refuge there as well. They are kind enough to turf off some pre-prepared Indian food to us as we are basically out. Lovely lentils and potato stew. Actually we still have some rice, black beans, and corn so we keep the Indian food for...tomorrow. OK, the next day we get up at the break of dawn, no not even. It is 5 am and we are up. We need to leave at first light to make the Sound before the wind whips it into a frenzy. The tide runs 9 feet high. It is high tide. You can't even see the land bordering the river, it is submerged. Claude gets us out using his GPS coordinates, running blind. We all have our depth sounders on, and believe in the Claude. He gets us out into the Sound, and now we are screaming across with wind at the back and that 9 foot tide rushing in to push us down. 8 knots. Get us the hell out of here! We flew all the way (well of course not really flying but going fast any way) and we are making time when Claude's motor starts acting weird. OK, pull in. We literally pull off the ICW into a creek, throw the anchor down, and we are done by 1pm because of engine trouble. Claude changes his oil filter and thinks it's going to be ok the next day. We are in debt to Chris, Nicole and Celeste on Grayling because had they not given us the Lentil Stew we would not be eating tonight. Next morning we are ready to take off by 8am. Nope. Fog. It's supposed to lift by 9am. Nope. 10 am? Nope. 10:30 comes and now we are beginning to see. We NEED to get to Jeckyll Island because there is precious little left. No bread. No meat. No cheese. No vegetables. No fruit. OK, we could survive by eating rice, but we are spoiled Americans and have generally not had to do this in our lives. We get about 2 miles, and it's too foggy to continue. Claude tosses in his anchor, we raft up (we hope we are out of the channel) and wait. He has to re-do his GPS waypoints because they did not all transfer. As soon as he is done, we notice we are dragging anchor. Right into the channel! The fog has lifted sufficiently to get going, so we untie quickly and get GOING. by 2pm we make it to Jeckyll Island where the first thing that happens is we see a guy we met in Annapolis. Well technically, we met him at anchor just before Annapolis in front of Cantrell's Crab House. He works at this marina when he wants to. He had given me a discount card this summer which I actually kept and found. The guy is astonished. We get a discount on our stay here and a shower. Immediately. Have not had a shower since Charleston. Don't even know how long ago that was, but about a week. Have not bought groceries since Charleston. No internet since Charleston. Cell phone battery dead, can only use it when hooked up to the boat battery via the "car" charger. I am sitting here clean, and on my beloved computer. We will go grocery shopping soon. My foot is healing. No tennis or running for another while yet, but the smash is clean and healing well. I need some bandages and tape, but there is a pharmacy here too. Incredible. Life is getting much better. We are most thankful this Thanksgiving season for our friendship with Claude, his great help, knowing that our families are safe and well, and that we have re-entered civilization at the present moment. Who knows what the next day will bring? As we leave here, we will enter St. Andrew's Sound, one of the "four most dangerous bodies of water on the ICW". Luckily we have already done the other three. We are NOT going out if it is not just right. We will wait it out here until we get a good weather window - favorable winds, no fog, little waves and just the ride tide. At least we are somewhere, not in the middle of the marsh. I would stay here for a week if I could, just to have some fun. But, we are trying to get somewhere so that's quite unlikely. It's a team effort. I "drive" or steer the boat about 50% of the time. The other 50% of the time, I look out for the buoys, watch the depth sounder, and do the job of the navigator. OK, the best news I ever heard was Claude's remark just this very moment that today is Monday, and he made reservations to watch Monday Night Football (go Steelers!) tonight at the little restaurant/bar at this marina. Heaven. For real. I can't wait.

To Infinity and Beyond (or at least Miami)

We have reviewed all the web updates, the navigational challenges ahead, the "skinny" water in the rest of North Carolina and Georgia, the date, the weather, our committments, and capabilities. The best plan appears to be 25+ miles a day until we get there. We could walk faster perhaps. But then, the boats would not get there. Darn. We do have a cool but good weather window, so we are casting off as the tide is rising this morning, so as to catch the first land cut after Charleston on a favorable tide. Apparently the current is killer there, and it can knock your speed down to near zero if you are battling against it the wrong way. Oh, happiness. Yes, it is starting to feel a bit like a job. There are of course still wonderful parts, but honestly the challenges ahead are mainly running aground and crashing into other boats. If we just keep going and put in 5 to 6 hours a day, we can make it! We will probably be out of electronic contact for a few days, anchoring in marshy creeks in the North Carolina wilderness. Honestly, you see these houses just like in "Water Boy" and wonder how folks can live in such desolate surroundings. That's when you can take a moment to divert your attention from staying EXACTLY within the narrow channel defined by the navigational markers. It's easy to drift slightly one way or the other given the wind and/or current, but to do so is foolhardy. It is also foolish to navigate this part of the ICW without first checking on the tide schedule and planning accordingly - all of which we have been doing. The most unfortunate thing is that our country can no longer afford to maintain the ICW as it was in the past - the Army Corps of Engineers is actually the maintenance crew. They have all been drawn off into our bizarro war (?) effort and there are neither funds nor personnel available to do the needed work in order to make the ICW user-friendly again. Last night the 3 of us sat around the dinner table and knew this was the last time we would ever do this trip, and wondered how many sailors will be able to even make it at all in the future. The Dismal Swamp canal is closed - perhaps permanently. The ICW is in peril, but very few people actually care. It is reportedly much easier to go "outside" or into the Atlantic Ocean to bypass the ICW between Charleston and Miami, but we just cannot do that. That requires round-the-clock sailing with shifts of 4 on and 4 off. Claude is alone, and would have no one to spell him. So, we are armed with all the information available and mentally and emotionally ready for the inherent and probable eventuality of running aground again a few more times. Charleston has been delightful. Many beautiful sunrises and sunsets await us. The Bahamas are like the brass ring on the merry-go-round - if only we can stay on long enough and stretch ourselves far enough, we will reach it!

from North Carolina into the real South: Charleston!

We are in the lovely Harborage at Ashley Marina in Charleston, having enjoyed free laundry facilities and a free round-trip to the grocery store in their courtesy van. Heaven! We had a few long, long days to get here. Departing from the St. James Plantation Marina, we encountered three ocean inlets, 2 swing bridges and one "rock pile". The rock piles was INTENSE. We had been on the water for at least 7 hours when we made the decision to press on toward the Barefoot Landing where we had reservations. The rock pile is a land cut that is populated with serious rocks which jut up from the bottom if ever you should leave the narrow channel of the middle. Rocks and sailboats do not mix. With intense concentration, we both made it through and arrived and tied up by about 4pm, just whipped. Exhausted. We went for beer and burgers, and cast off again early the next day. We thought that one 45 mile day was enough. I guess not. With wind and current primarily against us, we managed just about 5 knots for another about 9 hours to get to Georgetown, SC. It is something out of Forrest Gump. If my picture loads up, you'll see the shrimping boats tied up in Georgetown harbor. Once again, just stay on board, early to bed, early to rise, and another 30 miles to go. But that 30 turned into 45 again, as we finally caught a good current at the end of the next day and bashed it out to within 20 miles of Charleston. This part of the ICW afforded few anchorages, and they were mostly 10 ro 12 miles in between. SO, we decided to press on once again. The next morning we were wary of the weather report which indicated SW winds 15 to 20 mph, gusting to 30. Of course, this is exactly the direction we were trying to travel. Rain was also in the forecast. Dicey. We decided to make a run for it at 6:45 am, and lucked out! The current was actually with us, pushing us in to Charleston harbor. The Atlantic comes right in where the ICW spills you out, so we had a few big waves and some reasonable wind to deal with, but came into our lovely marina here by 11:30 am. What a relief! Last night we were treated to the company of Wayne's sister Lois and her husband John, who took us around to see the sights and to enjoy dinner at the most touristy place possible, Hyram's. We wanted to go there to do the real tourist thing. Even got a T-shirt for 4 bucks. Today, having done all the chores, we are about to walk to the intriguing French Quarter and flea market, just for fun. We will have a captain's meeting later today to decide when to cast off again. For now, my picture won't load up as the wifi is slow, but that would be the only small thing marring our stay at this boater-friendly marina in Charleston.

Heading to South Carolina: the evil spell is broken

Our positive karma has returned! Claude's new part performed flawlessly this morning. We did NOT run aground anywhere despite a challenging day full of ocean inlets and color reversals. Lots of occasions to get confused on the green and the red, as they reversed twice during the course of our travels today. We made it to the St. James marina, a great deal at $1.05/foot for BoatUs members, and were so happy to be able to borrow bikes and play tennis. This marina is situated in a very large gated community filled with lovely, expensive homes, golf courses, and three clubhouse/workout facilities, each one with tennis courts. The courts were clay, a new experience, and very fun. We intend to head to Barefoot Landing in the Myrtle Beach area tomorrow, and then press on at about 30 to 40 miles/day to make it to Charleston by Friday. Each day presents unique navigational challenges, but we are very happy that our energies seem to have turned to the positive, and our progress begins again.