Monday

December 13, 2014


Today Emily and I were hypnotized, mesmerized and bewitched by manatees at Blue Springs State Park about an hour northwest of Titusville, where FLICKA is tied up at the Westland Marina awaiting haul out. Titusville is near Cape Canaveral and the Kennedy Space Center. They love their astronauts down here. Titusville is home to the Astronaut Hall of Fame and NASA attractions (National Aeronautics and Space Administration).                     

Florida has many unique natural features, including a number of fresh water springs that issue forth crystal clear water at a constant year round temperature of 71 to 75 degrees F. These springs are a hit with scuba divers and swimmers and manatees – which were here first.

Blue Springs, an hour northwest of Titusville, is one of these. This spring has, as its source, a nearly circular pool about 100 feet in diameter and 30 feet deep. One hundred million gallons of blue-green tinted water flows daily from it into the St. Johns River. The spring run to the St. Johns River is about a mile long, maybe a quarter mile wide and very deep in places.
 
 
The Florida manatee (Trichechus manatus latirostris), a subspecies of the West Indian manatee, is, oddly enough, more closely related to elephants than other marine or aquatic mammals. Go figure. This native, tropical animal has roamed Florida’s coastal and inland waters for God knows how long. During the summer months at least some of the 3,500 to 5,000 remaining individuals range northward as far as Georgia, returning to Florida in the winter. They will not venture into any waters lower than 68 degrees. Smart critters them guys are!

Blue Springs is one of their winter havens. I bet they have been coming here for tens if not hundreds of thousands of years. Think about that for a moment.
 
 
In addition to Florida’s springs, these days they also seek out areas around power plants, which discharge heated water as part of their normal operations. During the winter they bask in these warm waters, lazily cuddling up to one another and feeding on local aquatic vegetation, doing what manatees do – which seems to be a whole lot of nothing most of the time.

The latest count at Blue Spring is somewhere around 140 individuals. Of course now a days the manatees share these springs with human beings, Blue Springs having become a swimming mecca to thousands annually. Fortunately swimming is not allowed during the specific time when the manatees are present in the winter months. (Thank God for those onerous, freedom robbing guvmit regulators.)
 
 
These animals are big. They are referred to, unattractively I think, as sea cows. A large adult might go ten - twelve feet and weigh 1,200 – 1,500 lbs. Calves are 70 lbs. or so and maybe 4 feet long. They are surprisingly agile and, anthropomorphically speaking, act rather playfully. We watched them swim slowly and gracefully in loose formations of two to five animals. Sometimes a pair seemed to be cuddling and one of the pair would place its flipper on the other and sort of hitch a ride. Occasionally they would surface to breathe (being mammals and all) and sometimes roll over onto their backs, behavior reminiscent of sea otters I have seen in other parts of the world. All in all a docile critter, with a gentle nature and manner. Their face is something only a mother could love.

Manatees are endangered. Sadly, most of the remaining individuals have body scars from boat propellers – primarily power boats but I suspect a few sail boats are probably also culprits.

Scaring is used by state and federal biologists to identify individual manatees. Let me repeat that for effect– most of the remaining individuals of this species on this planet have been scared by boat propellers and that is how we identify each individual – by its own unique scar signature.

All along the intra-coastal water way in this neck of the woods – there are prominent signs announcing that these are manatee waters. The signs caution boaters to be careful and not exceed 25 mph. Twenty-five MPH is fast on the water. A boat doing 25 mph hardly has time to miss these ponderous animals who swim slowly along just below the water’s surface. I’m not sure what the rationale is for that speed limit.

The good news is that dedicated natural resource managers in these parts are working on manatee conservation and lots of citizen volunteers’ help implement manatee education programs for the public.  At Blue Springs Park at the end of the “manatee walk’ was a display table manned by a group of volunteers who inform people about manatee status and encourage folks to get involved with the conservation effort. They are amazing people – very dedicated to their cause.

So anyway – that’s my manatee story and I’m sticking to it.

God bless these people.
 
 

Lately I have been thinking and reading about Earth’s threatened and endangered plants and animals. Most of us have general knowledge about that subject, but when you start to dig a little and become a little better educated about basic ecological principles, the impact of human activities on plant and animal populations becomes suddenly a much larger, compelling and important subject I think. By many accounts I have studied, many animal and plant species are on the brink of extinction. Looking down the road, and if some predictions are correct, I can’t help to wonder what the world will be like without them. Maybe it doesn’t matter. I have never seem a white rhinoceros or lion or springbok or, for that matter, most of the animals biologists tell us are endangered or threatened, but the sadness I felt when I recently learned that there are only 5 white rhinos left on earth was real enough.  

Can we somehow live on this planet with other species besides those we have domesticated? So far evidence suggests that we are not able to do that. Many of the world’s species have become extinct on our watch and numbers of many other species are fast dwindling. Much of the overall story and current picture is disheartening.

However, there is a cadre of remarkable scientists, natural resource managers and citizen activists working world wide to improve this dismal picture and in some cases, there are teams of people protecting the last few remaining members of some species – like New Zealand’s kakapo (I know, go ahead and laugh.). The kakapo, a large, flightless, nocturnal New Zealand parrot, was once was a common bird on New Zealand’s islands, but today there are one hundred and twenty-six individuals left, those individuals having been captured and ‘translocated’ to three small, remote predator-free islands. The kakapo population has been ravaged by introduced cats, opossums, rats and stoats (a kind of weasel).

By the way – here is an interesting pearl – New Zealand never had a native population of mammals of any kind (except for a few bats). Any mammal on New Zealand’s islands is an exotic (except for those damn bats) and they have played hell on the native plants and animals. Because of the lack of mammalian species in New Zealand prior to human habitation, bird species flourished there. Of course that is no longer true because once predacious mammals were introduced the birds began dropping – well - like flies. A number of moa species (large flightless birds) are gone and the kiwi (another flightless bird) is threatened. New Zealand had a thing for evolving flightlessness in birds, after all if there aren’t any predators why expend all that energy flying around. [Information about New Zealand extracted from a recent article in the New Yorker, December 22, 29, 2014. The Big Kill, New Zealand’s invasive mammal species, by Elizabeth Kolbert.

I recommend two very well researched and written books on the broad subject of animal extinction.

The first is No Way Home: the Decline of the World’s Great Animal Migrations by Princeton Professor of Public Affairs, Ecology and Evolutionary Biology, David S. Wilcove. Dr. Wilcove chronicles stories of the demise of large land and marine mammals, insects, amphibians and other animals and addresses reasons for those declines.

The second – The Sixth Extinction – an Unnatural History by Elizabeth Kolbert, New York staff writer for the New Yorker magazine. Ms. Kolbert talks about the world’s known periods of animal and plant extinctions, the first five being caused by ‘natural’ events and the sixth which we are living through the latest and largest in scope and depth, largely caused by human activities. She writes with equal passion about the people trying to save engendered species and the species themselves.

So Emily and I ended up our day by driving back down to Titusville, and visiting, for a second time, the 140,000 acre Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge, an area of coastal dunes, saltwater estuaries and marshes, freshwater impoundments, scrub, pine flatwoods, and hardwood hammocks that provide habitat for more than 1,500 species of plants and animals.

We drove the 12 mile Black Point Wildlife Trail and noted the following bird species: American Widgeon, Northern Shoveler, Hooded Merganger, Wood stork, Double Crested Cormorant, White Pelican, Brown Pelican, Pied-billed Grebe, Great Blue Heron, Great Egret, Tricolored Heron, Reddish Egret, Cattle Egret, Royal Tern, White and Glossy Ibis, Roseate Spoonbill, Black Vulture, Turkey Vulture, Common Gallinule, Ring billed and Laughing Gulls, Fish Crow, Common and Boat-tailed Grackles and American Coot and many old coots doing what we were doing – just hanging around.  

Namaste’

Wednesday

December 9, 2014


0930 – under way from Daytona Wind N 45 degrees.

Miles of high rise, medium high and no high rise condos. Still beautiful natural setting.

1100 Clearing Ponce de Leon Inlet

1145 – First BND

1245 – What a difference a few miles makes. We are in a beautiful canal with lots of wetlands, islets and an intricate set of backwashes to the east. Lots of birds.

1400 - Entered the land of the RV Park – extensive (Emily says – Oh My God – or OMG for all you device people)

1500 – Traversed Haulover Canal with hopes of anchoring in a ‘sweet spot’ small anchorage at mile 869 – but – OMG – it was occupied by 6 or 7 MANATEES. Ain’t that a kick – they got there first. That was our last shot at an anchorage. Damn those manatees. On to Titusville.
Manatee Country
 
 

1645 – Anchored in Titusville harbor wind N 15-20. We have arrived at our final destination for this leg of the journey. Tomorrow – Westland Marina for a haul out and flight home on Dec 15.

December 8, 2014

Last night the wind – out of the north blew 20-25 with gusts to 35 knots – now you know why setting the anchor properly is a big deal.

Today ain’t no better. Hunkering down to wait it out. Rain, wind. Read, sleep, read, sleep, read, sleep, etc.

December 7, 2014


Left our anchorage at Fort Matanzas and headed down the ICU past Matanzas Inlet on our way to Daytona Beach. Wind N 10 – 15 knots. 65 degrees.
Guys Working their Crab Pots - Look at those Wedges
Lester Bower's Daytona Beach Condominium

Anchored at mile 829 at Seabreeze Bridge on the Halifax River in a 20 knot wind. Welcome to Daytona Beach. Not much here I’m interested in. Sorry Daytona.

December 6, 2014

A day off. Stayed on our anchorage to kill time. Not due in Titusville until the 15th. Enjoyed a warm day, watching boats come and go, pelicans fish, tide coming and going.

Winds N 10-15. Temp 68, no precipitation

Our Anchorage this Morning

We completed some projects. Always projects on a boat.

I rearranged the ground tackle - which is all the stuff aboard having to do with anchoring - the anchor(s) of course, but also the anchor chain, rope (called rode), shackles and other various items. Chain – actual chain - is part of the ground tackle assembly because it weighs more than rope (remember rope is called line on a boat – rode when it’s part of the ground tackle). Chain, because of its weight, helps to hold the anchor down.

Proper anchoring is an absolute necessity to ensure a measure of safety, especially when anchoring in unsettled weather. Notice I said a measure of safety. Past performance is no guarantee of future gains. You do not want your anchor to drag on a cold, rainy night during a gale force wind.

Anchors have to be sized to the boat and there is an anchor for every kind of bottom (holding ground). Sometimes one should employ two anchors in the circumstance of questionable holding ground.

How does one know what the bottom is like in a given location? You can know by measuring the nature of the bottom the way the old time mariners did it – by greasing their lead line (a weighted line for checking depth), dropping it over board and seeing what sticks – mud, shell, etc. Get your mind out of the gutter.

Or you can consult modern charts (marine maps) that generally provide that information – at least in a general sense. Mariners through the ages have kept that kind of information as part of their daily ship’s log and those records have been compiled and published, thankfully, by highly energetic men like Mathew Fontaine Maury, an American astronomer, historian, oceanographer, meteorologist, cartographer, author, geologist, and educator. (Yes, I’m using Wikipedia.)

A monument to Maury can be found in, of all places, Goshen Pass, VA. He was a naval officer but a leg injury kept him from sea duty. Following the Civil War, in which he served admirably, he taught at the Virginia Military Institute. Maury and others compiled and published nautical information about wind, currents, bottom composition and other maritime elements all over the globe. Their work is the basis for ‘pilot charts’ and ‘sailing directions’ - reference materials that provide guidance to mariners everywhere.   

On board Flicka we have five anchors, a Bruce, three Danforths and a Delta. The Bruce and Delta are stored on the bow in anchor chocks ready for deployment, each attached to its respective rodes, which are in turn attached to the boat in the anchor locker or forepeak. The Bruce we have is actually a Chinese knockoff which means it is probably cast instead of forged. The Bruce (knockoff) is our ‘best bower’ at the moment – the one most often deployed – stored on the starboard roller. The Delta is our ‘small bower’ – which is not really smaller – stored on the port roller. (Bored yet?)

One of the Danforth’s is stored on deck amidships, ready to be deployed as needed. Another smaller Danforth is in a canvas bag attached to 50 feet of chain, itself attached to 150 of nylon rode – to be deployed as a kedge anchor if needed. (Which we damn well had to use on this trip.) Kedging is what you do when you run aground. You put your kedge anchor in your dinghy and row it out to deeper water, put it over – back to the boat you go - paying the kedge rode out – set the kedge as best you can and after waiting an appropriate amount of time for the tide to turn and for yourself to calm the hell down, you slowly winch your sell off – hopefully!

Yet another smaller Danforth serves as a dinghy anchor.

Different anchors are designed for specific kinds of holding ground. Fortunately for us amateurs, the Bruce, Danforth and Delta cover many of the circumstances in which we have found ourselves.

So you pull into a place to anchor and the wind is whipping at you at 20 knots and there is a 4 knot tidal cross current that will change sometime in the night. There are shoal waters to the north and somewhere just to the south the chart says there is a sunken derelict boat hazard. 

Once you have made your best determination that the place you have chosen is the safest possible under the circumstances – working with your mate at the helm – in this case Captain Emily - you toss the anchor over board and back away from it – paying out the anchor chain as you go.

Then comes the most important, the most crucial step and that is setting the anchor – backing down until you ‘feel’ it grab the bottom as it is designed to do. Then and only then are you anchored – reasonably sure that you are ‘down’ – notice I said reasonably sure.

However at that point it’s time for an evening cocktail – or two.

On to more adventures tomorrow.

Good night.

Saturday

December 5, 2014

1330 – Left River’s Edge Marina after washing the boat (at least the dirtiest spots). Moderate NW wind temp 70 outgoing tide – partly sunny – pretty good forecast – chance of slight showers.

1436 – Matanzas River – south bound Anastasia Island to port. Red Power boat headed at us – Hey Tow Boat US – our good friend’s big towing business. Raining – nice day for ducks, fish and sailors

1447 – Large flock of WP (white pelicans)

 
Mark 47 Capsian Tern (Sterna caspia) on the buoy. Terns are related to gulls. Most terns feed on small fish by diving head first into the water.

If you don’t like the weather just wait a while – the ‘pretty good’ forecast of this morning as been altered a bit – now feeling our way through dense fog, rising winds, Rounded mark 81A into the Matanzas River (leaving ICW) for our anchorage Cut the corner a little to close and ‘bumped’ along bottom momentarily for another heart stopping moment but slid off quickly into deeper water. Anchored at 1530 in 11 feet with contrary current/wind. Lots of BPs and new bird – roseate spoonbill (Platalea ajaja) just flew over. That was a treat.

Anchored in site of Fort Matanzas, built by the Spanish in 1742 to keep those friggin' beer swizzling, dirty limey English pricks from sneaking through the Matanzas Inlet and up the southern arm of the Matanzas River to St. Augustine.


Our anchorage on the Matanzas River
Fort Matanzas in the Background 
 
Short day – killing time before our arrival at Titusville where Flicka gets a rest and we fly home for Xmas, 779 to 794 - 15 miles today.

Friday

December 3, 4 - Interlude

Check back later - St. Augustine

December 2, 2014

830 – Leaving Ft Georges Creek anchorage following young friends from Maine (Jon and Ashley) in an Allied Ludders – ‘Baby Blue’ – same company that made Flicka but a different designer. Jon and Ashley looked to be in their early thirties – came all the way from Maine – bound for the Bahamas, Windward Islands and eventually South America.


Jon and Ashley on Baby Blue
 
Winds WNW temp 68 slight chop – typical salt marsh habitat. Great Egret in tree to starboard. Vigorously attacked by no-see-ums.



0900 – Entering St Johns River – major shipping route between Atlantic and Jacksonville just to our west. Passed several big boats and docking facilities.

0930 - Leaving St Johns with a strong contrary tide – doing 3 knots and – OH NO – ran up on a shoal – visions of Beaufort dancing in my head but fortunately quick thinking and probably mostly luck we were able to back off. Whew!!

1000 – Passed under fixed bridge at Salamander Landing fighting a very strong current creating standing waves -down to 2 knots. Dangerous passage, best done at slack tide which it definitely is not right now – note to self – on the way back through – do it slack.

1030 – First BND (bottle nose dolphin) of the day. Just made reservations at River’s Edge Marina – ain’t our devices grand.

1100 – Passing Mayo Clinic of Florida.  

1315 – Cruising down Tolomato River toward St Augustine through beautiful salt water marsh – low tide – extensible oyster reefs, great blues, groups of white pelicans, many shore birds, BNDs.
 
 
These reefs remind me of what I have read about Chesapeake Bay oyster reefs of yesteryear when apparently they were so extensive they were considered a navigational hazard – but we took care of that – we just scrapped (dredged) them all up over the past 50 years or so. A combination of naturally occurring diseases is oft blamed for the oysters demise in the Bay but pollution, primarily excessive sediment deposition, and over harvest have in recent years (along with the diseases) contributed to the lowest recorded population levels of the American oyster, Crassostrea virginica, ever in the Chesapeake Bay.
Not only did we over fish but we did not put back the harvested oyster shell – the very substrate that oyster larvae attach to in their normal life cycle- the very foundation of their tenuous homes. Seeing all these oyster reefs down this way gives me hope, but this is a very different sort of salt water environment. Strong tides create a constant washing out effect here, probably contributing to pretty good water quality. The Chesapeake Bay is an estuary with many large fresh water rivers providing hugh inputs of sediment and other pollutants. I suspect there is not the same ‘flushing’ effect in the Bay as one finds here.
Of course there are oysters coming out of the Bay – farm raised – which is not a bad thing certainly – but the simple, inescapable fact is that conditions are not yet ideal for robust natural recruitment of the native oyster into its native habitat. Thanks to lots of people involved in a broad range of ecological restoration activities there might be a day when the American oyster may find its old home in the Chesapeake Bay more hospitable. This subject may not be of interest to those who can’t stand the thought of a slimy raw oyster slithering down your throat but try to look at the larger picture - the impact of human activities on other species that are - like us - trying to make a living. 

1400 – Port side – derelict sailboat high and dry in the marsh with a bald eagle sitting atop the mast

1500 – Crossed inlet and coming into St Augustine.
1622 -Tied up at River’s Edge Marina where Paul came out to help us get steeled in. Gave us an ‘all day’ happy hour discount card for Hurricane Patty’s – the local watering hole. Gave us shore power free. Provided a complimentary bike for me to get to and fro and pointed us toward the showers, washing machines and ships store.

We came from Fernandina Beach at mile 716 to St. Augustine at 779 for a 61 mile day. Gonna stay here for a couple days – need supplies, few hardware items and various hints suggest showers might be appropriate. St. Augustine awaits.

Tuesday

December 1, 2014 - Welcome to Florida

1100 - Bright sunny, WARM day. Wind E moderate. Temp 68.

Flicka Tied to the Dock in Fernandina

Anchored just off the fuel dock at Fernandina Harbor Marine. Leaving after a visit to the fuel dock to leave off some trash. Had to avoid 4 dolphins fishing next to the dock.

Anchored Near the Boat in Fernandina

The Floridians, at least some of them, take their marine mammal conservation seriously. These signs are posted in every marina and at all town docks.
 
 
 
 There are only 200 - 300 Atlantic Right Whales left in the world and their calving grounds are right off the coast of Florida precisely at this time of the year. Hope we see one.
1200 - Passed through the Kingsley Creek RR bridge and entered the land of the white pelican. Browns, which we see more commonly in VA waters, are one of my favorite birds. They can be found pretty much in coastal waters from Jersey southward. They are remarkable flyers, sometimes gliding along just inches above the water for long periods. They dive into the water clumsily – it actually looks like they are ‘falling’ in – but they always seem to come up with a fish – which they deftly gulp into their ponderous throat pouches. The white pelican seems to always be in groups of 10 or more. Much larger that the brown, it is – well – white. Groups feed cooperatively, working together to ‘round up’ small fish in tight groups. The white, much larger than the brown, is not as common in east coast waters until you get to Florida.

1300 - Crossing Nassau Sound

 
1400 - Anchored in Fort George River at mile 735. A short 19 mile day. Tomorrow headed for St. Augustine, the oldest continuously occupied settlement in America. 

Monday

November 30, 2014

0800 – 46 degrees – Fredericka River – light N winds fog rapidly clearing low tide – headed for Fernandina, FL

1000 – Slack tide – crossing under Fredericka River Bridge – bellies full of strong black coffee, bacon and supersized cheese omelet.

1038 – Crossed in St Simon Sound 7.5 – 8 knots calm rising temps
 
 
My Mate
 1050 – Jekyll Harbor Creek

1130 – Days first dolphin lots of cormorants

1400 – Kings Bay Navy Base – home of a nuclear sub.

Just heard a Coast Guard secruite’ call – reporting a “run-away’ boat. Yes that is spelled right. Standard lingo when transmitting in the VHF marine band radio. Secruite’ is used to announce important safety information. Anyone can make a secruite’ announcement but it better be important5 – the Coast Guard is listening. It this case the Coast Guard was actually doing the announcing. It goes like this “Secruite’, secruite’, secruite’ – this is the Coast Guard. And then the message. In this case a boater had discovered another boat with two people aboard who had lost an engine – not literally of course – it had stopped running. Apparently they did not an anchor aboard so good Samaritan boater #1 took the two unfortunates (who were probably drunk) aboard which means boat #2 was abandoned and now a run-away – thus a hazard to navigation – thus the secruite’ call. It was fun listening to the Coast Guard trying to get an accurate description of the location of this happening, of the boat and circumstances.

These communications are in fact very serious and were devised to ensure safety at sea.

Secruite is not to be confused with a Mayday call – only used when human life is imperiled.  
 
Lots of Bald Eagles

1500 – Welcome to Fernandina, FL Temp 77 degrees. Fueled up at the Fernandina Harbor Marina and now on an anchor just off channel and mooring field. YEA for us!

November 29, 2014


1000 – Left Wahoo - cloudless sky – entering Sapelo Sound. S winds moderate shrimp boat to port. Rising temps – thank goodness.

1145 – Creighton Narrows – really narrow 50-60 feet wide

1700 – Anchored on Fredericka River mile 675 a 45 mile day

November 28, 2014


1215 – Leaving Vernon River 46 degrees high today 51 NNW breeze 10 – headed to Hell’s gate – waiting for high tide. Narrow shallow passage,

1240 – Dolphins with us

1300 - Entering Odechee – beautiful river miles of salt water marsh punctuated by high areas woody vegetation.  Winds diminishing. Temp on the rise.

1430 – Approaching St Catherine’s Inlet

1500 – Turned into the Northern Newport – against tide

1600 – anchored in the Wahoo River (go Cavs) 33 miles today.

November 27, 2014 - Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving Day – beautiful weather, chilly, 15 knot W winds steady now predicted to gust to 25 – on our nose of course. Today’s predicted high – 53 degrees. A nice, brisk Thanksgiving days run to Savanna, GA.

0830 – Passing Parris Island – a big salute to all my Marine Corps friends – especially Harry B. – thinking of you today.

Parris Island
 
 
 
0930 – Entering Port Royal Sound – confused seas – winds 25-30 – lots of spray. Upon turning into the sound the tide is with us – doing 5 knots with winds on our nose.

1020 – Crossed into Chechessee River just north of Hilton Head – in protected waters now.

Mark 15 – Hilton Head on Port – first dolphin sighting. Good omen.

1100 – Passing under Hilton Head Island Bridge – HH to port- enough of HH

1130 – Calibogue Sound – west wind makes its presence known again – this time it is serious. Wind meter measuring gusts to 45 knots. The Beaufort scale, devised by Frances Beaufort in 1807 is a relative wind measurement system – a scale from 1 to 12 with one being light air and twelve being hurricane force wind. The 45 knot gusts we were experiencing today are a nine on the Beaufort scale – a strong gale. The winds today were consistently 30-35 knots – 7 – moderate gale.

1300 – High gusts

1400 – entered the Savanna River – welcome to Georgia – go Dawgs
 
More High Living on the ICW

1630 – Welcome to manatee country – in a preserve area check with McKelden and Diana Smith for extensive review of manatee life history. (Inside joke.) No sightings today.

1720 – Mile 600 anchored on Vernon River 10 feet under the keel NW wind – 7 knots. 61 miles – our best day – Thanksgiving dinner - maple sugar grilled pork, homemade bread, mashed potatoes, gravy, chutney, bourbon and gin! No turkey or punkin’ pie for us.

Good night.

Sunday

November 26, 2014

More of Beaufort, SC

 

November 25. 2014

Woke to clearing skies, moderate winds, 46 degrees. Waited until slack tide then drove up to the fuel dock to top off, then to a slip where we pulled in for the next two days to visit Beaufort, SC – a small town chocked full of historical sites and stories. One of the more colorful is that Black Beard the pirate - one Edward Teach who hung out in Beaufort. His girl friend was Elizabeth who never married Edward but after his demise was married 7 times before she was 24 - the husbands kept disappearing. 

I was lucky to discover that two of my VMI Brother Rats were in the area – Gregory Scott Kinsey and Ned Perrot and his lovely wife Florence. Scott and Ned are both Virginia boys. Scott hails from Salem and Ned from Lynchburg. Florence is from The Plains and attended Stuart Hall.

These are very fine folk. Scott has been a professional musician all his working life, having pursued his dream in Nashville and other places. He is an accomplished song writer and a luthier – a builder of musical instruments. He has been based in Beaufort pretty much since graduation from VMI. Ned is a lawyer and farmer. He and Florence still live in Lynchburg but they love the SC shore so much years ago they bought a place in Edisto and go there often.

The Downtown Marina was full of boats, both sail and motor – many pleasure trawlers and many headed south for the season. The good folks there provided a courtesy car for guests so we were able to go uptown to the Be-Lo Store for provisions.

Scott met us in the late morning and hauled us out to a hardware store for other stuff and we had a delightful lunch with Ned and Florence. They were all very gracious and helpful.
Scott and the Other Guy

We capped of a delightful day by taking a horse drawn carriage through old Beaufort. Our tour guide was this fantastic woman who talked nonstop about Beaufort history. Beaufort is filled with historical homes and sites. They take their preservation very seriously. Home owners in the historic areas must maintain their properties to the highest standards and historically accurate. Must drive a libertarian (which I am not) up the wall crazy.
 
Sue - our tour guide

Buddy - Our Chauffer 

1800 – back aboard Flicka to prepare for an early departure on Thanksgiving Day, 2014.

Scenes from Old Beaufort


 

Friday

November 24, 2014

Rained all night. Westerly winds screaming 20 knots – wind generator humming pumping those amps into our three marine deep cycle batteries (More detail about that later.)

0730 – Rain has stopped and now a dense fog has set in. Then came the inevitable discussion between first mate buck Talley and Captain Emily about whether we go or wait out the fog. We compromised and decided on a 1000 departure.

1000 – Left in clearing fog. No sooner than we had weighed anchor and entered the main channel of the South Edisto the thick fog crept back in. That’s why we spent all that money on GPS and radar. (Now if I can just figure out how it works.) But work it did and we negotiated the Fenwick Cut which spilled us into the Ashepoo River then the Ashepoo Coosaw Cut to Rock Creek and then the Saw River. A power boat passes to starboard just as we entered the Saw.

We begin a long run up the Saw in clearing skies, warming weather and slightly diminishing winds.

Here is where our luck begin to unravel. Up until not we had done pretty well coming down the ICW, having made pretty good time, survived cold and rainy weather; no catastrophic events. Actually feeling pretty good about ourselves, to the point of being rather smug.

Approaching Beaufort, SC mid-channel, moving along about 7 knots with a strong favorable current at mile 335 and that is when the engine stopped abruptly just about the same time I was thinking that I had not checked the fuel level that morning. Well – tanks do run dry.

Refueling a boat moving along at 7 knots is not like pulling in to 7-11 for a fill up. We had plenty of fuel in jerry cans lashed to the gunnels; the trick is to get the fuel into the tank while under way in a steady 15 knot wind and rolling boat – and quickly. Captain EM handled the helm while I played the part of Lieutenant Dan at the top at the mast in Forest Gump as he converses with God about a storm.

As we lost way (that is lost control of the boat) it became necessary to throw out an anchor in order to complete refueling. To complicate matters, diesel engines don’t run with air in the fuel lines, which is what they get when one forgets to fill the tank and the fuel pump sucks air – which means the forgetter has to bleed the fuel line before the engine will run. (Memo to self – check fuel level in tank daily.)

But the Talley team prevailed and got Flicka running again and we were able to continue our run down to the Ladies Island Swing Bridge just north of Beaufort. Now this is a famous bridge because boaters run aground often on a sand bar on the western side of the channel. It is a bridge that opens on the half hour to let boats through but you have to call the bridge master and ask permission to pass – which, dutifully, we did – just about the time (about 1500) we ran smack dab up onto that sandbar. Hard aground is what we were. Not only were we hard aground but we were hard aground on a rapidly decreasing tide which meant are situation was only going to get worst. The tides here run eight feet. It was moving out quickly - water depth decreasing rapidly. We called Tow Boat US (Fortunately the dope that ran us out of fuel did take out comprehensive towing insurance) and a guy showed up 45 minutes later to pull us off, HOWEVER he could not do it – the tide run was just so rapid that Flicka was fast becoming stranded on the sandbar. He offered to come back on the rising tide. I was convinced that we would float off and we wouldn’t need him. Then he reminded me that severe weather was headed our way – tornados and such. That changed my mind so we made an 1800 date.
 
 
 
 
 
There was only one alternative and that was to wait on the rising tide. So wait we did – while we became the talk of the town. We watch as the trade went completely out then slack. Flicka was literally laying her side on an island. Shore birds came to probe the bar for worms, clams and other delicacies. A great blue came walking by and a pelican or two dropped in to investigate. We watched as the tide raced back in and slowly Flicka begin to shift, stand upright and float. Tow Boat US showed back up, threw us a line and slowly we swung the bow around to point to the channel and slowly – very slowly the tow boat captain inched us off the sandbar, in the rain, wind and DARK. By 2000 we were floating free.

On a boat, in the DARK, in the rain, it is very easy to become disoriented. It’s – well – dark. All you see is lights, shore lights, navigational lights, and plane lights. That is when you better know how to use a compass or, for us modern day sailors, GPS. And when we needed our brand new GPS the most that is exactly when it lost the satellite signal. Big lesson. Know how to use that compass. What was that bearing to the bridge again?

Of course we were in sight of the bridge, but you cannot imagine how different that sucker looks at night. In the rain, wind and dark we had to negotiate our way through the bridge, past the town marina and through a maze of anchored boats – some without anchor lights (Coast Guard required) to a safe anchorage – which we did by 2200hrs. Pouring rain. We are safe and secure.

Challenging day. Lots of lessons learned.

Tomorrow a visit to Beaufort, SC and a couple of Brother Rats.


 

Sunday

November 23, 2014


Bad weather did come. Still hunkered down. 20 knot ENE winds. Much rain. Taking the day off. Raining hard on and off. We are comfortable with our ‘Little Buddy’ propane heater, our various devices – for after all – who can survive without their devices – or is that vices? On to Beaufort, SC tomorrow at first light to visit with VMI brother rats for the day, then south to Titusville, FL.

Sleep well mouseketeers.

November 22, 2014


Plans change.

0930 – Leaving Charleston to take advantage of this clear, warm day with favorable NW winds and strong currents. The weather is deteriorating tomorrow with predicted SW winds 20-25 and lots of rain. Not pleasant in our unprotected cockpit. As a result I won't get to see Jane Custer, a much loved cousin of mine from Staunton. We are going to catch her on the flip side.

This day’s entry is dedicated to our good friend Paul Rogers who lives in Greenville, NC and who has lived in a wheel chair for the last 25-30 years, a victim of multiple sclerosis. He is paralyzed in maybe 80% of his body and can pretty move only his arms and head. MS is an autoimmune disease of the central nervous system in which nerve fibers essentially become nonfunctional, resulting in paralysis, but interestingly enough, not loss of pain perception. Go figure. There is no cure.

Paul is undaunted by his condition, astonishingly courageous and an inspiration to me. He is an artist and earned a Master’s degree in counseling after being confined to his wheel chair and for many years twice weekly he goes to the Vidant Medical Center hospital to volunteer at the heart center.

I’m thinking about Paul because, remarkably, there is a 70 foot world class sailing vessel 3 slips down from us by the name of Ocean of Hope. The stern port side had a website painted on it – www.sailing schlrosis.com. I walked down to this orange hulled thing of beauty and was greeted by the chipper and smiling ship’s bosun, Bertram Christensen from Denmark. He proceeded to tell me all about boat and its mission. It is currently on a world cruise, a global voyage to change the perceptions of multiple sclerosis. The entire crew excepting the captain and Bertram have MS in various stages of progression. One is a retired Parrish priest with five children. The global pharmaceutical company Biogen foots the bill for this adventure.

The boat is a Challenge 67, with a beam of 17 feet, displacement 40 tons, and a steel hull. She was built in 1966 to race around the world “wrong way” – against the prevailing winds and now she carries a message of hope for all of us. Who knows why some of us are stricken by calamitous conditions like MS and others not. I don’t know whether I could be as strong as Paul in his place.

Anyway, I’m thinking about you today Paul.
 
 

0940 – Leaving Charleston to make miles south before bad weather. Wind NE 10-15, current favorable. Doing 7 knots, passing the 12 deck Carnival of Fantasy, a behemoth of a boat. Who knows what decadent things goes on aboard this star ship.
 
 

 
 
Pretty nice real estate in Charleston
 
 

1030 – Passed under Wappo Creek Bridge


Just south of the bridge we went through Elliot’s Cut at Mount Pleasant, a very narrow and short but deep canal where the tidal current can reach 4 knots and, sure enough, we were traveling against it. We went from 6.0 knots to 2.5 knots in a matter of seconds. Thankfully the cut is only about 1.5 miles long and we clawed our way through.

Pretty nice real estate here too. Damn Republicans.


 
1100 – Crossed over into the Stono River to run down through more beautiful marsh lands. Channels sometimes wide, sometimes narrow, sometimes shallow, sometimes deep. Thank goodness for the depth finder. Crossed over into yet another river, the Wadmalaw. This land is dotted with islands and many rivers, tributaries and tidal backwashes (lots of places for alligators to hide.)

 

At mark 102, the confluence of Toogoodo Creek and the Wadmalaw we encountered a disabled sail boat hailing out of Cambridge, MD, vessel Island Time. Spoke the captain who told us his engine had quit. He thinks it’s the fuel pump. Declined assistance. We mush on.

After a while on the Wadmalaw we crossed, yet again, over into another river, the Dawho, then through Watts Cut into the South Edisto River where at 1630 we anchored in 10 feet well off the main channel with not another boat or human being insight. Bad weather tomorrow. Hunkering down!

Eat rice, be nice and let the good times roll.

 

November 21, 2014


0700 – Brilliant day at Awendaw Creek.

0830 – Leaving our anchorage, 46 degrees, winds W 5 knots. Favorable current. Porpoises make their daily appearance soon after entering the ICU. Mark 76.

A run down to Charleston today through more extensive marsh lands. A few houses set back on high ground with long piers, some a half mile long, maybe longer – running out through the marsh to docks – many covered. The docks are all floating with hinged gangways. As we approach Charleston the houses waterfront houses get bigger and grander.
 
 
 
 
 
Just north of mile 462 and the Ben Sawyer Bridge we had some excitement. We were traveling about a mile behind three other sailboats and notice that they had all stopped, pretty much in mid-channel. What was going on? Were they anchored for lunch? Waiting for the bridge to open? No by golly they were all run hard aground. The channel through this part of the ICU is quite shallow and of course at low tide, which it was at the moment, even more difficult to negotiate. In addition, constant strong tidal currents create constantly shifting shoals. Tides here run about 5 feet. Two of those boats are 6 foot draft vessels but the other guy was 4.8. By radio the vessel Release cautioned us and suggested we join them. I thought to myself, “You mean aground?”



Undaunted, we with our now very much prized 4.5 foot draft, slowed down, held our breath, watched our depth gauge and pressed on. We waved and smiled as we ghosted by and tried not to look to smug. We arrived at the bridge just as it opened and Emily, master helmsman, took us through.

Beyond the Bridge we dumped out into the upper reaches of the Wando River from which we ran down past Shute’s Folly and Fort Sumter in the distance straight to the Maritime Marina on the north side of Charleston where we stayed for the night.
 
On the way we saw this boat,
 
 
Our plan is to stay here a couple of days, visit a cousin of mine and see a little of Charleston, a grand city as cities go – home of the College of Charleston and the Citadel. We are parked across the harbor from the USS York, a retired aircraft carrier, now a museum complete with old fighter planes and all kinds of cool stuff.
 
 

Namaste