November 16, 2012: Beaufort to St.Augustine

Log of the Salty Turtle: November 2 – 8, 2012

11/02/2012 Beaufort, SC to Herb River, GA (Near Thunderbolt) 42nm

11/03/2012 Herb River, GA to Frederica River, GA (Near St.Simon's) 70nm

11/04/2012 Frederica River to Cumberland Island,GA (Near St.Marys) 40nm

11/05/2012 Frederica River to Bell River, FL (Near Fernandina) 7nm

11/08/2012 Bell River to Pine Island, FL (Near St. Augustine) 43nm

11/09/2012 Pine Island to St.Augustine Mooring Field, FL 13nm

11/11/2012 St.Augustine Mooring Field to St.Augustine Marine Center 3nm

Total NM To Date: 514 nm

ICW Mile Marker: 780 sm

“Men in ships are always looking up, and men ashore generally looking down.”

JOHN MASEFIELD

South To Georgia:

Finally after 10 days pinned to the dock in Beaufort, SC the winds from Hurricane Sandy dropped down to less than 10 knots and it was time to head South. With a strong incoming tide pushing us, Gigi handling lines, and fear in my heart I eased the Turtle out into the current with only the engines to maneuver (remember the steering wheel / rudders do not work at slow speed). An unexpected, blast of current careening off bow of the good X-mayor's boat pushed us sideways toward the small coastal cruise ship on the next dock. A quick power up and kick from port engine turned us away from the ship and added power to starboard shot us astern into the bay and clear of the docks. With a spin from forward and reverse engines the Turtle tuned 90 degrees, power to both forward, and we were headed for the ICW, and free of Beaufort Down Town Marina. The throb of the engines (and my heart) eased and the Turtle nosed South into the current. ….And Gigi and I started to breath again. Free of the dock and no one hurt or hit.

Georgia:

Georgia is the most beautiful section of the ICW (in my opinion) and that includes the Waccamaw River in South Carolina. The ICW here is like an old bob-tailed dog chasing it's tail and almost catchin' it...but not quite. It snakes its way thru, rivers, sounds, and salt marsh creeks. Salt marsh creeks that fill with the ebb and flow of the tide and spill life giving, nutrient rich, water over the estuary.

Coastal Georgia is both deep and shallow but it is chock-a-block full of wildlife. Wildlife of all kind. This year I saw my first ever Wood Stork while at anchor in Herb River, an immature Bald Eagle sitting on a red marker near Isle of Hope, and a pair of Balds roosting in a tall pine in the glow of the Fall evening sun while anchored off Cumberland Island. There are dolphin around ever bend just waiting to play in your bow wake. And butterflies, hundreds of Monarchs winging their way South with us “Snowbirds” dipping in and out from under our bimini as if to say “you guys must be a turtle even I can out race you.” And they were right.

Many cruisers bypass Georgia because they say it is “boring” and “shallow” plus you can put Georgia behind you on the outside in 20 hours in what will take you 3 days on the ICW. I'll answer the boring question first...NOT! If you love wildlife; hundreds of quiet, secluded, spanish moss hung, tree bearded anchorages; and beautiful sunsets you will never be bored in Georgia. As to the “shallow?” Actually most of Georgia's ICW carries deeper water than average ICW depths. However there are few places that are damn shallow at low tide – Fields Cut, Hells Gate, Little Mud River, Buttermilk Sound and Jeckyll Island are the few that come to mind. But...Georgia has 8' or better tides so just play the tides and you gotta' no problem. If you are in too big a hurry to enjoy Georgia you probably picked the wrong lifestyle. Slow down and live brother. Slow down and live.

This trip we anchored in the Frederica River, just N. of St.Simon's Island, for the first time. The Frederica takes a left off the ICW and slowly meanders its way thur the salt marsh for almost 7 miles before it re-joins the ICW just before the St.Simon's Island highrise bridge. The chart shows good water for it's entire length and no obstructions so we decided to see if we could actually run the 7 miles back to the ICW the long way (actually not much longer in reality). We made the run at low water and in the early morning light (Oh Wow! What color!) and saw no less than 8' of water and most of the time 18 to 30 feet. The Frederica turns out to actually be deeper than the ICW. About mid-river is the remains of Ft. Frederica - now a State Park. Next trip we plan on anchoring off the fort and do a little exploring. See what I mean about Georgia? It offers new experiences at almost every bend. 

 

Fernandian, FL - Bell River and BBQ Toes:

Salty Turtle wound her way South past Jeckyll Island, thru Cumberland Sound, past Kings Bay and the submarine base where the little machine gun clad guard boats make sure you do not get too near, past the sub degaussing station (removes static electricity from the boats) and anchored off Cumberland Island for the night. Plans had been to stay a few days here before continuing on to Fernandina, FL to celebrate Gigi's birthday. However, weather changed that. Anchored off Cumberland Island is no place to be in a N wind and that is exactly what was predicted. Bell River about a quarter mile from Fernandian Harbor Marina is much more protected and provides easy access to the town. That is where we went.

We spent Gigi's birthday (Nov. 7^th) wandering around town. Gigi went to “Gaze Way” (her favorite clothing store) plus a zillion other shops and got her “toes done” (whatever that means). Vic found Gigi something for her birthday and retired to the Palace Saloon for a “cold one” to do what we men do when our women are shopping ...wait (if lucky there is a bar to wait in). Then we both went to the “Happy Tomato” for lunch. Don't laugh the place has real good pulled pork and ribs and you get a mountain of both if order a combo platter. We did. Ate the pork and “doggie bagged” the ribs for supper. 

 

On the dink ride back I put the ribs on the seat beside Gigi. It was a little rough so I gave “Little Cay” a little more throttle to kick the stern down and bow up so it would shed water around us instead of on us. About the third wave the dink hit bounced the ribs straight up in the air and down of my starboard foot. The BBQ sauce neatly transferred its self from the ribs to my now saucy toes.

We still ate the ribs for supper (could have used more sauce).

St. Augustine, FL - How Not To Pick Up A Mooring Ball:

As Salty Turtle approached the Bridge of Lions and entered St. Augustine harbor the fort “Castillo De San Marcos's” ancient cannon fired a salvo across our bow. Was it in warning or a salute to the staunch vessel Salty Turtle?

G and I had decided to take a mooring ball in the harbor for a few day since my cousin Chris Dunn was in town for a biker thing and planning a visit. Chris and I go back a long ways to summers together on my grandfather's farm and reciprocal visits to each other homes when we were kids. Chris is a year older than I and therefore at the age of 5 to 10 he was my “hero.” He taught me how to drive a tractor at the ripe old age of 8...or at least to leapfrog it down the road on 2 wheels – scared the poop out of me. His visit has been the highlight of the trip for me so far and the fact he made the effort meant a lot.

St. Augustine Marina gave us our mooring ball assignment and we proceeded to go walkabout thru the mooring field until No.48 hove into sight. It was a beautiful bluebird day with a strong current running and a light cross wind. Should be no problem. Neither Gigi nor I like picking up mooring pennants but have done so many times with on minor skirmishes. With the ominous sound of cannon fire somewhere in the back of my head, I eased up to the ball with G on deck to hook the pennant.

Gigi did a great job and boated the pennant on the first try. It was a short pennant however and barely reached the rail of the Turtle (here is where the“tides” of fortune turned against us). As Gigi reached for our bow line to thread thru the eye of the pennant that “tide” I was talking about ripped the pennant out of Gigi's hand and good old No.48 disappeared from sight under the boat and was swept aft.

Options? Two came to mind. Option 1: Use power to maneuver the Turtle off the ball. No way - Can't use the engines to try and get us out of this mess without taking a huge chance of entangling the mooring line in the props. Option 2: Wait and see if the ball will slip astern and then we can take a second shot at the mooring. We picked option 2. Turtle and crew took the “wait an see approach.”

Slowly, slowly, the mooring ball worked its way aft...and hung between the starboard strut and prop shaft. Slowly, ever so slowly, Salty Turtle rotated like the hands of a clock pivoting on the mooring pennant from 12 o'clock to 6 o'clock and there she stopped,... hung,... and stuck perfectly moored backwards. Well we wanted to pickup a mooring didn't we? We had and in a quite unconventional manner I might add. Now what do we do?

Option 2 was still the best approach...we waited. 10 minutes – nothing. 15 minutes – nope! Time to own up to our unconventional mooring and call the marina. They sent the water taxi. I asked them to tie along side and see if they could move us aft off the ball. That did the trick - Free At Last!! The captain of the Water Taxi was nice enough to give us a hand re-mooring Turtle in the correct orientation (I suspect he feared he would have to come back a second time if he didn't).

We are currently hauled out at St.Augustine Marine Center trying to figure out a vibration problem and it has become abundantly clear that the “cannon's salvo” were warning shots...but that is another story.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic

2012/10/31 Southport to Beaufort, SC

Log of the Salty Turtle: October 19 – 31, 2012

10/19/2012 Southport, NC to Waccamaw River Ox Bow 58nm

10/20/2012 Waccamaw River Ox Bow to Waccamaw River, Butler Island 19nm

10/21/2012 Butler Island, SC to Dewees / Long Ck 51nm

10/22/2012 Dewees/Long Ck., SC to Bull River, SC 62mn

10/23/2012 Bull River to Beaufort, SC 16nm

Total NM to Date: 299nm

ICW Mile Marker: 537

“It takes several years for anyone to learn to handle a yacht reasonably well, and a lifetime to admit how much more there is to learn.”

MAURICE GRIFITHS

Southport to the Waccamaw River:

Speaking of a learning curve..

Boat handing with this behemoth called “Salty Turtle” is becoming more natural. A twin screw power boat at slow speed responds very little to rudders. At anything less than about 3 knots turn the wheel and nothing happens. Maneuvering is accomplished by applying power to port and starboard engines – power to port engine with starboard reverse and she pivots in her own length, power just to port in forward and she turns to the right, power forward on starboard and she turns left...you get the idea. It is very different than maneuvering a sailboat and a big learning curve for us.

We were on the back side of a T-dock at Southport Marina with boats and other dock on both sides and a salt marsh to our stern. I put the “bitch” in there like I knew what I was doing. When it came time to leave it was Gigi's turn. She backed her to the end of the T, turned her 90 degree, cleared the T, turned her 90 degrees again, and slid out into the ICW like a pro.

Confederate Rose

The Turtle worked her way South on a rising tide thru the skinny waters of Lockwood Folly and Shallotte inlets, past Little River inlet, and into South Carolina water. From here South for the next 29 miles you are in a “ditch” dug out of limestone. From Little River Swing Bridge to Barefoot Landing Swing Bridge it is narrow and literally cut out of stone with the unseen walls of the channel at 90 degrees to the surface. This area is known as the “Rock Pile.” Prudent skippers will announce their intentions to enter this area on the VHF to let other boaters know they are entering because large vessels can not pass each other in this section. If there is a barge or other large vessel in the area you hang out until he exits.

This day it was not the rocks or other traffic that were the problem. It was floating debris driven out of the marsh into the channel by a full moon high tide. Debris was everywhere logs, limbs, pieces of lumber, even a chunk of a dock all just barely visible on the surface and we were constantly dodging and weaving. About half way thru the Turtle's luck ran out – we hit a deadhead (submerged log or piece of timber floating about 2' below the surface and impossible to see). We could feel the thud as whatever it was churned it's way pass the props. Shit!

The Turtle is OK but we think we dinged a prop – we pickuped a vibration above 1600 RPMs. Salty usually travel at below 1600 so plans are to move on to St. Augustine, FL and haul the boat there to get the props fixed. As an old friend of my was fond to say, “That's boating.” Vic's translation, “Shit Happens!”

We spent 2 beautiful Fall days anchored in the Waccamaw with beautiful sunsets, warm coffee filled mornings, good food, and the company of Tom and Olga Cook. The only down side – we took on more fuel than I thought existed.

Waccamaw River to Dewees / Long Creek:

From Butler Island the Waccamaw River straightens out and joins the Great Pee Dee River spilling their guts into Winyah Bay near Georgetown. South to the Georgia you are in the “Low Country” of South Carolina. And “Low Country,” is the proper name for this area of the world with low salt marsh and a never ending crossing of creeks and rivers slowly meandering their way to the sea with the ebb and flow of the tide.

The passage thru the Cape Romain National Wildlife Area near McClellanville is always a treat this time of year with the low fall light bring the marsh to life with glowing sunsets of brilliant orange and reds, migrating waterfowl, and the song of the red-winged black birds echoing thru the marsh. This year gave us dolphins in almost ever mile of the ICW and a pair of bald eagles soaring great circles above Salty Turtle. Every time I go by McCellanville I think of the first time I sailed Oconee to the dock there, but that's another story...

It was in the Cape Romain area that I first learned dolphin speak Russian. Every dolphin brought Olga to the Turtle's side. At each encounter Gigi and I would hear Olga's soothing, musical, almost whisper like voice wishing the dolphin good morning in melodic Russian tones. The dolphin in turn, would turn their bodies sideways as they swam along side apparently mesmerized by Olga's Russian greeting. Olga loves dolphin and they her. So if anyone ever asks you, “do dolphin speak Russian?” They do.

Dewees / Long Creek to Beaufort, SC:

Only 5 miles South of Dewees Ck. the ICW breaks out into Charlestown Harbor. Charlestown Harbor is one of the most beautiful on the East Coast. Forts Sumter and Moultrie guard the entrance. Charlestown its self sit on a spit of land at the confluence of the Ashley and Cooper Rivers. The Charlestown skyline is dominated by the sail shaped Cooper River Bridges, beautiful old homes (of course), and church steeples. Charlestown is alive with blue blooded history, music and food.

Elliots Cut joins Charlestown's Ashley and the Stono rivers just South of the city. Now we begin our trip thru the Low Country in ernest. Plans were to anchor in Tom's Point Creek about 30 miles South of Charlestown for the night but high tide and current the Turtle could ride changed those plans. This section of the trip South is really a series of cuts that connect creeks and rivers that snake their way South. In many places you can see boats heading in exactly the opposite direction as you just over the marsh and both of you headed South on the ICW. We anchored in Bull River for the night and made Beaufort, SC the next day.

Usually we anchor in Beaufort but with Olga and Tom (our good weather totems) leaving us here and Hurricane Sandy predicted to bring high winds and water we decided to take a slip at Beaufort Down Town Marina. ...Our luck left with Tom and Olga on Thursday the weather went to shit...of course.

Beaufort, SC:

Beaufort is one of our favorite stops on the trip South. Beaufort is a very Southern old city with classic charm, beautiful homes and gardens, and a vibrant downtown and water front park. This year it was to bring and little “ying” and a little “yang.”

Ying:

We called ahead, made reservations, and ask that they have pity on boat owners new to power boats and put us somewhere easy in – easy out. Not! They put us in front of “Argonauta” a large power boat owned by Henry Chapman, the X-mayor of Beaufort that the beautiful “Henry Chapman Water Front Park” is named after - sure as hell don't want to hit him on the way out.

About 2 days later the “ying” started. For some reason known only to the dockmaster they decided to put a 20 foot wide, 42 foot sail cat owned by a Frenchman out of Canada named Bernard in front of us. With cross winds and a following current he hit us on the way in and did minor damage to the Turtle's cap rail. But that wasn't the ying, after all shit does happens.

Bernard refuse to give Gigi copies of his insurance. That took a day of arguing. Even the dockmaster tried and was refused. Finally when we threatened the “cops” he gave in and let us copy his insurance. Then he insisted “he would fix it.” No you will not! No and hell no! Then he announced to all “Americans were cheats and, like all Americans were trying to steal from him.” Boy that went over real well with Gigi and I. You can think what you want about our country but you better not say it. All I really wanted to do was strangle the bastard but I didn't have time. I way too busy trying to keep Gigi from leaping off the Turtle and telling the bastard to get the fuck out of our country if he did not like “us Americans.” Discussions had taken a nasty turn and a minor war with France had begun.

After a day of cooling down for both sides. Gigi and I decided if he would pay for material to fix the damage we would let it go at that and worked up a cost of materials (about $400 – Awlgrip ain't cheap). We figured that would settle it. It didn't.

Bernard and his friend Dave (lawyer out of Canada off another sail cat) came aboard to discuss the “settlement.” All Bernard wanted to do was argue and offer $300. Up until this point Dave (the lawyer) thought we wanted $1000 (cost if someone else fixed the ding). Dave said, “Barnard you need to give the folk the money and settle this.” Bernard said, “No, I can get the paint cheaper and fix it myself. I'll buy the paint and have it shipped to you. Don't you trust me?” As calmly as I could under the strain of really wanting to bash his head in I said, “Bernard it is not about trust. I do not know you.” Bernard, again started his American bashing. At that point Dave said I think we better leave – smart man Dave.

After a few minutes cool down I joined Dave on the dock. He explained to me how tough cross boarder litigation could be and all over a minor difference of $100 bucks. I explained to him I had seen Gigi argue for months with Enterprise Car Rental over a $15 traffic ticket she was wrongly charged with...and won. She was not going to give in. She had been wronged and that was that. “But will she settle for less than $400?” Yea maybe when “Hell freezes over, when the mouth of the Mississippi wears lipstick, or when politicians don't lie. Whichever comes first”** Dave reached in his own pocket and added $100 to the pot. Gigi accepted and the war with France was over. The Frenchmen left the next day. Hitting no one.

“Yang:”

You know despite the dings, cold weather that has now set in, and the wind blowing it's hi-knee off Beaufort is a great place. It is what a small town with rich history and a great water front should be. Once a year on or about Halloween the town closes up shop, the main streets are cordoned off, and the park dressed for spooky fun. Then the downtown merchants open their doors to hordes of trick-or-treating kids. It is just plane clean fun, especially for a photographer on the loose with a camera. Gigi and I have been lucky enough to be here for 2 Halloweens, one Marine Corp Ball complete with starched dress blues with their “uplifting” ladies dressed to the 9s, and once, even a drum circle. This town knows how to enjoy its self. Take a look at the photos from this and previous years and you will see what I mean.

With luck, the winds will back down tomorrow and we will be once again headed South.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic

** Quote brazenly stolen from Capt. Fatty Goodlander...after all he would do the same for me.

2012 Salty Turtle Summer

Log of the Salty Turtle: Oct 15^th to Oct 19^th

• 10/15/2012 Morehead City Yacht Basin to Mile Hammock Bay, NC - 37nm
• 10/16/2012 Mile Hammock Bay, NC to Wrightsville Beach, NC - 35nm
• 10/17/2012 Wrightville Beach to Southport, NC - 23 nm

Total: 94nm

Quote: “I know who you are, but you will have to wipe your feet.”

(Capt. Richard Brown of the Schooner America to Prince Albert of England - 1851)

Salty Turtle

Never though I'd be on a “power boat” but here I am. Salty Turtle is a 1987, Defever 44, a go slow, trawler, kind of girl or as Big Al Carson, likes to say “Built for Comfort not for Speed.” Why did we do it? Well because....

One of my all time heros, Dick Bradley, had a theory he called his “Shaky Card Table Theory of Life.” Dick said that when we are young (in our 20s) we go find a job and settle in. Then God issues us a rickety old card table complete with “puzzle.” Over the next 10 years or so we spend our time puttin' the puzzle together. Then we stand back, admire our efforts, and spend the rest of our our lives dancin' around that table trying to keep everyone and his brother from kicking it over and making a shamble of our creation. Not Dick, at that point he would kick over that table and scream at the top of his lungs, “God! Give me another puzzle!”

Best explanation I can come up with for how the SaltyTurtle entered our lives.

Summer was a blur mostly working on the Turtle..the old girl is a hard taskmaster. There was generator issues, bottom paint that failed, painting lessons (boat not house), new radio with AIS and GPS to install (that's a story of its own), moving stuff from Oconee to Turtle, provisioning, a wonderful Copelan Reunion (thanks again Paul, Stacy and the Athen Gang), and ….Grandbabies to see, hug and love.

On Oct 12, Tom and Olga Cook joined us for the trip down the ICW from Morehead City to Beaufort, SC. Tom is a neat guy – author, diver, sailor, rat rodder (built an old Chevy) and jack of all trades. Olga is Russian and just a sweetie. Good crew and pleasant company.

We spent the first night at anchor in Mile Hammock Bay nestled in the bosom of Camp Lejune Marine Corp Base. “Bay” is really a misnomer. It is really a dug out basin roughly the shape of an rectangle. The day came complete with entertainment. Flights of “Osprey” (the helicopter not the bird) clopped circles around us searching some unknown prey. Tracked, amphibious, attack vehicles loaded with marines plowed across the ICW in front of us with red flagged Marines directing traffic from the bank. The night settled in with the echoed sound of cannon fire all around. I can't quite explain it, but it was strangely serene and peaceful night.

The next day found us at anchor in Banks Channel at Wrightsville Beach by 1:30. As much as we hurried we caught all the bridges wrong. Surf City Bridge has 12' vertical clearance (we need 21' to clear) and opens on the half hour and hours. We arrived 4 minutes after the hour. Figure 8 Island bridge (clearance 23' at the time we arrived) opens on the hour and we hit it dead on...and would not have needed an opening. Wrightsville Beach Bridge normally has a clearance of 23' at the state of tide we arrived had only 18' because a construction barge was parked under it and we waited another half hour. “That's cruising.” as they say or "screw speed just go slow."

Wrightsville Beach gave us a great lunch, rendezvous with friends on Escape - another Defever, and (of course) a stop at Roberts Grocery. Roberts has homemade chicken salad and pimento cheese ..MMMMM Good.

We are currently in Southport with plans to leave tomorrow for the Waccamaw River in South Carolina with a stop somewhere to fill up with fuel (shudder)...but SC is much cheaper than NC.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic

PS – Note for you Sailors: If you leave Wrightsville Beach at the turn of high tide at Southport you will ride the tide all the way down the Cape Fear.

2012-01-09 Pumpkin Key to Sampson Cay

December 23, 2011 – January 16, 2012: Pumpkin Key, FL to Sampson Cay, Bahamas

12/23/2011 Coconut Grove to Pumpkin Key / Key Largo 31 nm

12/26/2011 Pumpkin Key to Key Biscayne 24 nm

12/27/2011 Moved to Dinner Key Mooring Field –

12/29-30/2011 Dinner Key to Nassau, Bahamas 180 nm

1/4/2012 Nassau Harbor Club Marina to Rose Island 7 nm

1/5/2012 Rose Island to Norman's Cay 39 nm

1/6/2012 Norman's Cay to Sampson Cay 34 nm

Total Miles to Date: 1161 nm

Upside down Christmas...Again:

The weather for crossing to the Bahamas just was not cooperating. The windows were too short for our liking or the winds too strong and the seas too big. We were in wait mode. To get away from the crazy boaters in Biscayne Bay, the crews of “Skat” and “Oconee” decided to sail down to Pumpkin Cay near Key Largo for a nice quite Christmas dinner aboard Oconee. I was to cook a turkey breast and a Vicki Skemp's flan, and Gigi (as inconceivable as that may sound) cooked a cranberry crunch, and Barb aboard Skat was to do the rest. It happened but not quite the way we had planed...but then improvise is what us boaters do best.

I don't know why but for some reason I seem destined to be upside down fixin' something on Christmas day. Last year it was Gigi's windlass and I spent 4 days upside down in the anchor locker replacing her windlass. This year, just as we were getting ready for bed on Christmas Eve the fresh water pump went belly up and the galley sink drain started leaking (at least leaking bad enough I could no longer ignore it). I had replacements for both aboard. That was the good news. The bad news was the replacement sink drain was in the second lever of storage all the way in the V-berth locker and the replacement pump was in the quarter berth in the aft locker....and for those of you that don't know my quarter berth it is not a berth at all it is (you guessed it) storage so all that shit had to come out as well.

So on Christmas morning the bedding and everything is out of the V-berth and into the main salon. Everything out of the quarter berth is in the main salon. Everything under the galley sink is out from under it and on top of the galley. The door is off the storage area under the galley sink where the access to the pump and drain are and the companion way stairs are off the engine (needed so I have enough room to get under the sink). The whole boat looks like someone dumped everything everywhere and shook it (and the someone was me). The turkey is in the oven and Old Vic is upside down under the galley sink, feet on top of the engine, butt in the galley, playing with plumbing and cussing (one has to have the vocabulary right or nothing gets done). And... Gigi is sitting in the corner in the only place with nothing on it trying to be as in conspicuous as possible so as to not be included in my discussions with the plumbing. Two hours later we had water again, the sink was no longer leaking, and the turkey was done but the boat was still a shambles. Jim and Barb came to the rescue and hosted Christmas Dinner aboard “Skat” and all was right with the world...again.

Aboard boats things work out and Christmas was what it should be: friends, good food, and running water.

The Crossing:

On the 29^th of December our chance finally came to get across the Gulf Stream to Nassau. We had waited almost 3 weeks for this opportunity. The predictions were for light North West winds and seas in the 2 to 3 foot range. We cleared Florida Channel and were at sea by 9:30 AM. Usually you do not want to go anywhere near the Stream with any wind out of the North but the seas were predicted to be small so we took the chance. As it turned out it was a good chance and a good crossing. They were wrong about the seas in the Gulf Stream, however. We saw some 10 footers in the middle of the stream but their period was about 10 seconds apart and “Oconee” and “Skat” slid gently over them like little rubber duckies on a pond. The feeling is sort of like riding an elevator up and down every 10 seconds.

We reached the Little Bahama Banks at dusk and experienced our first “green flash” at sea and one of the most spectacular sunsets I've ever seen – absolute clear horizon with deep navy blue sky blending to black set with the magenta / orange glow of the dieing sun. As the sun faded out and the last thin line of rose color blended into black and the sky came alive with stars. The brilliant planet Venus first followed by a sky dusted so full of all magnitude of stars it looked like Van Gogh had painted them. Then the disk of our universe, The Milky Way, appeared so dense with stars it is almost solid – it takes the breath away just thinking about it now. How could anyone look at a sky like that and believe we are alone in the universe? My friends you have not seen stars until you have seen them at sea without the lights of land to mask your view. A sky like that make one feel so small, infinitesimally small.

An hour or so after we hit the banks, I was below cooking supper and Gigi on watch when she called. “Vic. We have slowed down, the engine is over heating, and there is a vibration can you come up?” Immediately you start going thru the list of possibilities. Water pump going bad or clogged sea strainer? No. That would explain the over heat but not the vibration or the slow speed. Could be the shaft zinc is trying come off. Nope. That would explain the vibration but not the slow speed or the over heat. We must have pickup something on the prop. I stopped the engine hoping what ever it was would fall off. It didn't. Now all I could see was me having to go in the water to clear the prop on an inky dark night in the middle of the Banks. Shit! One more thing to try – reverse engine and see if that will kick off what is there. Three tries and with a bang shudder Oconee rid herself of what was down there. Whew!!

The rest of the trip was just a great ride on calm seas with Gigi and I doing watch and watch (3 hours on 3 hours off). By 2:30 in the afternoon Nassau Harbor Control had given Oconee permission to enter the harbor and at 3:20 we were tied up at Nassau Harbor Club and Marina with our yellow quarantine flag flying waiting Customs and Immigration to clear in country. Our friends; Clark, Dudley, and Peter; had helped us tie up and welcomed us with open arms (literally) with hugs all around. Customs showed up 4ish. We ask for a for a 180 day clearance. They gave us 90. By 4:30 the quarantine flag was doused and the courtesy flag in her proper place on the starboard spreader flag halyard - “We in Da Bahama's Mon.”

Junkanoo New Years Day...sort of:

Junkanoo is a true Bahamian “ting.” Junkanoo is really a huge parade and party sort of like New Orleans Mardi Gras, the 60's Grambling University Marching Band, and a Holly Roller Camp Meeting rolled into one. It is celebrated at different dates and times on different islands and cays. Nassau holds the king of all Junkanoos and is held on Boxing Day (Dec. 26^th) from sunset until midnight and on New Years Day from Midnight until about 10:00 in the morning...unless it falls on a Sunday and then they sort of “freelance” the date. Like I always say, “Dis Da Bahamas Mon.” Sometimes no one knows when but somehow the Bahamian's do and then it just ..is.

No one really knows what “Junkanoo” means or why it exists but the most logical answer I've heard (and therefore probably not right) is Junkanoo is a corruption of a famous African slave named "John Canoe.” These slaves were not allowed much freedom and would hide in the bush when they had the chance. While in the bush, they would dance and make music while covered in costumes that they made from various paints that they made and leaves that they found, sponges and old newspaper. This festival represented the slave's freedom from slavery. According to legend, John Canoe fought for the rights of his people to have some time for themselves and this may explain why it is celebrated late at night. The old masters gave them time off when their “time” was not needed by them.

Parades in Nassau are judged in various categories; A Category, the B Category, Individual costume, and fun groups. The A category groups in the Nassau Junkanoo include, The Valley Boys, The Music Makers, Roots, Saxons, One Family and The Prodigal Sons. In the B category groups include One Love Soldiers, Clico Colours, Fancy Dancers, Fox Hill Congos, and Conquerors for Christ. Fun groups include The Pigs, Sting and Barabbas, The Tribe, and many many more. These groups work on their costumes, floats and music all year just for Junkanoo.

G and I took a taxi downtown at 4:00 AM and elected to stand on the street with the Bahamians rather than sit in the bleachers. Man what fun!! You are there with men, women, and children all cheering on their favorites – the place vibrates and sways with music, color and rhythm all of which never stop. When groups like the Valley Boys or the Saxons get within ear shot a wave of energy sweeps up and down the street and just plain envelops you. The Valley Boys, maybe 200 strong, with man-pulled floats, dancers, outrageous colorful costumes, and a huge band is perhaps our favorite. As they approach you hear mixed in the horns, African goat skin drum rhythms, the cry from the Boys go up, “We Are?” And the crowd's response, “Vallee,Valee,Valee” wash over you and draw you in. G and I were no exception and we added our “Vallees” to the drum beat symphony.

My camera seemed to attract the best. Don't miss the photos. They don't do Junkanoo justice without the music or the magic of the crowd but go take a look anyway. I've never experienced anything like Junkanoo. Would I do this again? You bet.

Sampson Cay:

We made Sampson Cay on the 6^th and were greeted by 9 days of light winds, 80 degree weather, and warm water. I really meant to write when I got here but the Bahamas just would not let me. We have fished, snorkeled, read, visited, and enjoyed sunsets and sunrises that only the Bahamas can give. There just has not been time for writing – Dis Da Bahamas Mon.

Fairwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

2011 Palm Coast to Miami

Palm Coast, Florida to Key Biscayne, Florida – 11/26/2011 to 12/17/2011:

11/26/2011: Palm Coast to Daytona, FL 27 NM

11/27/2011: Daytona to Coco Beach, FL 56 NM

11/28/2011: Coco Breach to Melborne, FL 18 NM

11/29/2011: Melborne to Vero Beach, FL 30 NM

12/04/2011: Vero Beach to Hobe Sound, FL 41 NM

12/05/2011: Hobe Sound to Lake Worth, FL 15 NM

12/12/2011: Lake Worth to Ft. Lauderdale, FL 47 NM (and 24 bridges)

12/17/2011: Ft. Lauderdale to Key Biscayne, FL 44 NM

12/20/2011: Key Biscayne to Coconut Grove, FL 03 NM

Total Miles To Date: 848 Nautical Miles

“You Are a Risin' For a Fall...”

When I was a little boy and “got too big for my britches.” My Mom would say to me “Boy,.. you are a risin' for a fall....” and that usually meant the “fall” was going to be provided by her or (god forbid) my Dad. It seems we never get too old for our ego to get a little adjustment.

Oconee and I had done real good this year. We made it thru Shallote Inlet and Lockwood Folly in North Carolina without once running aground or even coming close. Tiptoed thru the 15 miles of 7 to 6.5' water around McClellansville, South Carolina, without a hitch. Greased right thru Fields Cut at dead low tide and was spit out like a watermelon seed into Georgia's Savannah River current (and they said that could not be done) and never saw less than 7.5' of water to boot. Oconee and I transited Hell's Gate, Little Mud, and Jekylle Rivers in Georgia at mid-tide with not a problem. We easily put the Amelia River and Matanzas Inlet behind us in Florida with not even a “ooze” into a single mud bank. All the bad spots on the ICW were behind us and not a single grounding. Old Vic was getting' pretty “cocky.” He didn't know it but he had also put all his “risin'” behind him and his “fallin'” was coming up fast.

As we eased into Vero Beach's mooring field things were a mad house at the marina so I “volunteered” to raft to Bob and Penny Kingsbury on “Pretty Penny”, a 50 foot powercat on mooring ball 50 way up toward the end of the mooring field next to a small mangrove island. Oconee motored slowly up the channel next to the western border mangroves, turned thru the field of moored boats and took a course about 20 feet off their sterns parallel to the line of moored boats that “Pretty Penny” was in and ran solidly aground. Oconee backed off the shoal, picked another approach, and turned in for another try. That did not work either but this time I was hard aground in the mooring field and had just become the “cruiser entertainment for the day” as a swarm of dingys off other moored boat came to our rescue. After about 20 minutes Oconee was free again, went back to the channel off the bow of the moored boats and was soon along side “Pretty Penny” safe and sound or so I though – after all my keel was in 7 to 8 feet of water.

Next morning, Oconee's keel was still in 7' of water but her rudder was in 3.5 feet and taking the weight of both “Pretty Penny” and Oconee – not good. Bob and I put our heads together and decided to pass the mooring pennant to Oconee and he would go to another mooring and that would at least take his displacement off Oconee's rudder. As booth Bob and I walked forward and a I took the pennant Oconee slid into deep water. After moving to another mooring and diving the rudder it appears Oconee is OK and has survived another round of abuse under Vic's command.

But my “come-upins” were not yet complete by a long shot – the gods were not finished with old Vic. To jog your memory the ICW rule is “Red marks are on the right side of the boat headed South on the ICW.” The first mark after passing under Vero Beach ICW bridge is “red.” Why I do not know but at the time it seemed perfectly acceptable to take that red mark on the left hand side of Oconee. Wham! Oconee ran straight into a shoal that brought her up all standing. The ground comes up quick around here and Oconee had hit a “wall” of sand. I backed off with another dent in my ego and none in Oconee.

That would have been bad enough but Gigi was on the head at the time. I “de-throned” her in a manner she will never let me forget knocking her completely off the head and landing her in the shower. I am hoping that my “fallin'” is over for the present and I have a little “risin'” in my future. If not, I'm sure Gigi will bring up the “head” incident again....and take over my ego adjustment where the gods left off.

Bridges, More Bridges & Northern Cuba...

The ICW run from Lake Worth to Ft. Lauderdale is a sailboat's nightmare – 47 miles and 20 bridges. There's Flagler Memorial Bridge – opens on the quarter to and quarter after the hour, Royal Park Bridge – on the hour and half hour, Southern Blvd. Bridge on the quarter to and quarter after, Lake Ave. - on demand, Lantana Bridge – on hour and half hour, and blur of 16 more frustrating bridges. You get the picture.

Most bridges open on a timed schedule and a pitiful few open on “demand” (read request). Bridges don't open on “demand” by-the-way. I was taught that many years ago by the bridge tender of the Titusville Bridge while bring a boat North with my good friend Mike Yount. I called the bridge and asked if he “opened on demand?” He courteously replied, “ No captain, I don't open on “demand,” but I do open on “request.”” I replied, “May I have an opening when we get there please” (I was a quick learner in those days). He came back, “Bring it on Captain. I'll have it open when you get here.” To this day I always “request” an opening and never fail to thank the bridge tender after we pass thru...even if he was one of the few true assholes Florida has employed as bridge tenders. Most bridge tenders are quite professional.

There is a bit of skill (and luck) involved with bridges. First, because they are timed you have to time your arrival at the next bridge as close to it's opening time as possible. That means you are constantly adjusting speed to coincide with the next bridge. If you miss your time and are early you have to hold the boat in place and wait while dealing with other boats doing the same thing while all the time the bridge tender keeps reminding us “bring it up close.” It's not like a car pulled up to a stop light. For example: Imagine if you will you stop your car at a light but you keep drifting into the intersection, or the wind decides to turn it sideway, or current keeps you headed straight for the bridge, or the car beside you wants to pass and go thru the light first (he is a faster car), or the brakes don't work and you need to throw the car in reverse to keep it from running the light. ...And you have to remember to “call” the light or it will not turn “green.” If you are late for a bridge that almost guarantees you will miss the next and end up waiting half and hour to an hour for the next opening. And if the bridge for one reason or another does not open, the whole deal is shot to hell and may not get back on schedule. Now add to that the “macho Florida crazies” that have no respect for anyone except themselves and you have a day on the water filled with tension, exasperation, and a touch of anger. Now you beginning to get the picture. Bridges are a bit of an art form with a huge dollop of luck thrown in for good measure.

By the time we reached Middle River in Ft. Lauderdale we were exhausted and strung tighter than a Mark O'Connor string. That run is my least favorite part of the waterway. Gigi put it best, “Think I'll have 3 glasses of wine tonight.”

Key Biscayne:

South Florida is not the United States it is really “Cuba North.” From Ft. Lauderdale South English is a second language as is evidenced by the TV Channels. We don't have cable or satellite TV on Oconee just a simple antenna. In Frenandian we picked up 28 channels – two of which were Spanish speaking. In Ft. Lauderdale we got 36 – half of which were Spanish speaking. In Key Biscayne we get 32 channels – 6 of which speak English and 2 of those are infomercials. Here you can even watch NFL games in Spanish. Spanish language or not, Cubans one-on-one are very nice folk just don't put them behind the wheel of a car or boat. Do that and you better get out of the way or their “macho” butt will run over you.

We are currently anchored off Key Biscayne in company with our friends Jim and Barb Thompson & Missy (their ancient pup) on “Skat.” It looks like there will be little hope of making the Bahamas by Christmas so we will make Christmas here. This year we are lucky we will have our friends Jim, Barb, and Missy to share Christmas dinner with. I wish you and yours a heart warmed by the love of friends and family, good food (of course) and a healthy and fun filled New Year.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

2011 Toms Point, SC to Palm Coast, FL

10/30/2011 Tom's Point Creek to 11/18/2011 – Palm Coast:

11/6/2011 Tom's Point Ck. To Beaufort, SC 40nm

11/7/2011 Beaufort To Herb River, GA 43nm

11/8/2011 Herb River to Wahoo Ck., GA 43nm

11/9/2011 Wahoo Ck to Lanier Island, GA 43nm

11/10/2011 Lanier Island to Fernandina, FL 35nm

11/13/2011 Fernandina to Pine Island, FL 42nm

11/14/2011 Pine Island to Palm Coast, FL 33nm

Total Miles to Date: 565 nautical miles

“Ten Pounds of Sugar in a Five Pound Bag”

When I moved aboard 12 years ago it was not much of a shock to my system. After all, I was moving aboard “Oconee” - a floating palace with copious storage and all the amenities. However, going from 2000 square feet of living space to a home with less space than an average walk-in closet can be a bit of an adjustment especially for a lady (and consequently for me). It was and is an adjustment even for a remarkable lady like Gigi that had already shed most of her worldly possessions to pursue the cruising life and run of with an old “Creek Curmudgeon” like Vic.

One of my all time heros, Dick Bradley, said moving aboard a boat after years as a “dirtdweller” was like tryin' to put “Ten pounds of Sugar in a Five Pound Bag.” There's a lot of truth to that statement especially when one of the ones doing the movin' is a lady.

Men are simple. Take clothes. All my clothes fit in the small hanging locker and a couple of small “stuff-in bins.” Shoes? I got 2 pair of sandals (one lives in Mule just incase I forget to put on my good pair before leaving the boat for shore) and one pair of real leather shoes (worn 3 times in the past 5 years – should leave them in the boot of the car shouldn't I?). Sox ? I got 2 pair just incase my feet get cold going down the waterway in the fall – one to wear one to wash. Two that is, if you don't count the 30 odd sox I use to keep my rum bottles from “bruising.” In truth I could get rid of half what I got and still have plenty of clothes. We want talk about “undies” - who needs 'em anyway.

Gigi on the other hand, like any good “Admiral,” has the large hanging locker with extra shelves in back, 2 drawers, and miscellaneous hidy-holes for her stuff. Truth be known, she could and would fill 3 times the locker space if she had it. But then clothes are as necessary for a lady as tools are for a man (I'll admit to having way too many...but I ain't getting rid of any either).

Shower stuff is another deal. Me? I got soap, a scrubby, and a towel. No shampoo you might ask? Nope, I figure if it's good enough to wash my ass it's good enough to wash my head. You could lift my shower bag with one finger. Gigi on the other hand, has a black bag full of stuff that must weigh 10 pounds that she lugs to the shower each and every time. What's in it and what its contents are used for are a mystery to me as I'm sure it would be to most men. But it does keep her clean and seems to keep her quite beautiful...at least in my eyes.

Then there is spare parts, food, toilet paper (lots and lots), rum (a must), beer (beer is $50 a case in the Bahamas), TV, movies, CDs, computers, paper, books (every nook and cranny has a book or two), and a bunch of stuff we just could not do without but have little if any use other than emotional and physical “comfort.”

Get the picture? Oconee is full to the brim but not just full of stuff. She is as full of life and living as she is of ships stores. Cruisers tend to fill that “five pound bag” to the bursting point with ten pounds of experiences. The next bend in the river, the next anchorage, the next destination brings new friends and unexpected living. All you gotta' do is jump in with both feet and hang on.

Just this year we have picked persimmons and made jam with Matt and Diane Zender. Been visited by pods of dolphin that seem to love to swim with Oconee ever single day. Why I don't know but this year seems to be the year of the dolphin. Seen a real 50 foot tugboat named “Timothy Too” outfitted like “Little Toot” of children's book fame complete with orange ball-cap and moveable eyes built by some crazy mariner from Nova Scotia. But then I'm being redundant, all us cruisers are just a little above “abby-normal.” But then, “Normalcy is in the eye of the beer holder,”as I like to say and way over rated.

One more thing that 5 pound bag is full of and it may be the best thing in the bag – a renewed faith in people, their simple kindness, and humanity. Because we have little in the way of transportation, other than our “feet” and a good dingy, we have to rely on the kindness and generosity of friends and perfect strangers. Everywhere we go people are willing to help us find a way out of the mess we have got ourselves into or just to the store for more beer. Our friends, Matt and Diane Zender, loaned us their dock on Toms Point Creek, ferried us everywhere, and allowed us to stay while GG when back to Raleigh for a pre-oral surgery checkup. Debbie at Palm Coast Marina found a way to get us into an already full marina so GG could return to Raleigh for her surgery. Tom & Olga Cook and Steve and Aggie Knox have taken me everywhere without the first complaint. Buck & Vicki Dawkins and Muril & Mike Doster have taken Gigi under their wing and taken care of her while she is in Raleigh for surgery. And around the next bend, someone else will step up to the plate and save our sorry ass...again.

In truth I think it gives people joy to help their fellow human beings (I know it does me). It takes a while to get used to the ideal that by letting folk help you we actually help them. Once you learn that lesson that “five pound bag” fills up fast.

Yep. Us cruisers are lucky folk we get “10 pounds of sugar in a 5 pound bag” anyway you cut it. ….And to boot, we have a sunrise with our coffee and a sunset with our “toddy” almost everyday. Man, that's living.

Fairwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

PS – Gigi is recovering nicely and should be back aboard just before Thanksgiving.