The Pelican

May 3, 2015

Quiet, beautiful morning. No wind, no boats, gentle tidal current carrying sand caressing Flicka as it flows by. Sitting in the cockpit having coffee. We hear the soft snorting of dolphins as they surface to breathe and the splash of least turns on early morning fishing expeditions.

Then suddenly a louder splash as a brown pelican on its own fishing foray hits the water hard. A remarkable bird. He flies laboriously along at fifty feet, stalls in mid-flight, falls out of the sky, tucks his wings to gain speed and in that moment becomes a thing of grace and beauty. He hits the water hard – beak first. It’s a wonder it doesn’t snap off. Seconds after he hits the water that long beak with the prodigious pouch (which can hold up to three gallons of water) comes up, the neck extends, the pouch filled with water and fish tenders, the bird swallows its catch and I swear smacks its non-existent lips.

From Cooper’s Creek we ran up Calibogue Sound past Hilton Head Island, crossed into the Chechessee River and Port Royal Sound, finally to enter the Beaufort River and pass Parris Island where many young men in the Marine Corps have vacationed in the past.

Continuing up the Beaufort River, we passed through Ladies Island Bridges and past dangerous sandbars at Beaufort, SC that were our undoing on the trip south last fall. Beaufort is another classy city with lots of history. We passed into the Coosaw River, through the South Ashepoo Coosaw Cutoff, then through the North Ashepoo Coosaw Cutoff, into the Ashepoo River, then through the very narrow Fenwick Cut to the South Edisto River where we anchored in 15 feet at mile 509 ICW after a sixty mile run.  Same anchorage as in the fall.

 

Ladies Island Bridge Opens for Us

 

 



Disaster

May 2, 2014

On Saturday morning we swung through Savannah one more time then returned the car, fueled Flicka and were underway at 11:30 AM, north bound on the ICW. We crossed the Savannah River, joined the Wright River at mark 48 where disaster struck. I ran us dead aground, luckily at low tide. We were very near the mark so other boats were coming by regularly. I got the not so bright idea that we could “surf” off the grounding on the wake created by a passing power boat. One came by and by radio we agreed that he would throw up a bow wave, which he did. The wave lifted us up momentarily, but not high enough. Solution – obviously we needed a larger wave.

So the next boat that came through, a much bigger one, whose captain had heard our conversation with the boat A, happily agreed to throw up a wave. Power boaters go by sail boats all the time. Many slow down as they pass so as NOT to throw large bow waves up, which can be discomforting to those on the sailboat. Some don’t slow down, and this is a constant source of irritation between power and sail boaters.

I’m thinking this guy was thinking, “Finally, I get to blast a sailboat with a big wave”. So here he comes and here comes the wave; a four footer. My supposition concerning using a wave to lift us up high enough to drive off the sandbar sounded pretty fool proof to me at the time – in my head. But after the actual experience I can say with supreme confidence it is not to be recommended to sane people.

The wave was a big one indeed, which we took broadside. Instead of lifting us up, it broke just as it hit us and dumped lots and lots of water into the cockpit, soaking everything including all our guide books. The water washed down the companionway into the main cabin, getting our bedding and lots of other stuff. There was so much water in the cockpit (which drains out via built in scuppers) that I was afraid we were going to swamp and sink, then I remembered we were already setting on the bottom. A five gallon fuel tank broke free (remember to check lashings) and slammed into the aft starboard port light (window) smashing it into pieces, which let more water in the main cabin.

Boat B went merrily on his way. Not to be blamed. After all – it was my idea.

An hour and a half later the tide turned and not much later the flood tide gently lifted us off the shoal, and away we went. We crossed over to the New River at Walls Cut, then up Ramshorn Creek to the Cooper River where we anchored in yet another delightful spot at mile 568 ICW.

The cleanup process took the better part of the rest of the day. Lots of lessons learned, no broken bones or fatalities. Major lesson - let nature take its course and do its job – work with it, not against it. Lash on board tanks better. Listen to wife – no – really listen to wife.

The Savannah Kings

May 1, 2014

Spent April 28^th and 29^th on the Herb River, two lovely days indeed, watching birds, dolphins and a few boats come and go. Moderate winds, no rain. Very pleasant and protected anchorage. On Friday, May 1, morning we hauled into Thunderbolt Marina just a few miles away. The town of Thunderbolt is right next to Savannah, which has to be one of America’s most beautiful cities.

We rented a car to provision and visit with Scott. Drove through the city in amazement. The streets are lined with big, old live oak trees adorned with Spanish moss. Forsyth Park, in the center of town, is lovely and the site of many festivals and leisure activities. Lots of “round-a-bouts” with statues honoring various people. River Street, a cobblestone and brick thoroughfare, runs the length of the water front which is lined with shops and restaurants. The Savannah River is busy with pleasure craft, tankers, container ships, tugs and tour boats.

 

Scenes from Savannah

 

 

 

Live Oak Lines Streets and Walkways

 



 

Emily's Mother's House

 

 

Florence Martus

Savannah's Waving Girl

 

Emily’s mother was born in Savannah and lived here for a time eighty years ago. We tracked down one of the very houses in which she lived. (The other one, adjacent to Forsyth Park, was torn down to accommodate a parking lot.) But at the 45^th street home we had a delightful visit with the current residents. They were very happy we stopped by.

After an exhausting visit to Kroger and Target, we gussied up to meet my good friend and VMI brother rat, Scott Kinsey at the Flying Fish, on Wilmington Island. Scott has been a professional musician all these years since our days at the Institute.  A very fine bass guitar and fiddle player. Now retired, he does what all old retired musicians do – plays in different bands throughout the area just for the fun of it. Tonight, it’s the Savannah Kings and I got to sit in on a couple of tunes. Much fun. Great band.

However, the restaurant, an outside venue, was engulfed in a cloud of “no-see-ums” as we would call them, but here they are the “sand fleas”. They are relentless, inflicting a bite that itches intensely for five minutes. The air is filled with them. All the restaurants have bug spray on the tables beside the catsup. Standard procedure. Everyone (except for me – the unsuspecting tourist) wears long pants.

The local semi-pro baseball team are the Sand Fleas. They are a winning team and we are told that it’s because opposing teams show up without bug spray and are so plagued by the sand fleas – the real sand fleas – that they are preoccupied with hopping around the field scratching themselves.

We had a fabulous time visiting with Scott. Returned to Thunderbolt Marine by 11:00PM for a good night’s rest.

Sweet dreams.

More Savannah Pics

 

 

 

Savannah Waterfront

 

 

St. John's the Baptist Catholic Church

 

 

 

 

The Herb River

April 28, 2014

We were up early this morning to calm winds and cloudy skies, low tide and gathering wood storks. The marine forecast was not in the least favorable to an off shore run with NE 20 – 30 knot winds predicted, precisely the direction in which we would be going today off shore. It is hard enough slogging into the wind’s teeth on the inside, but off shore add in an ocean swell and higher winds. No – we will wait for a more favorable forecast.

So instead we had our usual French pressed Starbuck’s French roast, two cups a piece, me straight up, Emily with enough cream to make a gallon of ice cream; along with three strips of bacon a piece and an egg and cheese omelet to get our day started.

We weighed anchor at 10:30 AM in order to catch the incoming tide to push us along. Crossed St. Catherine’s Sound in a strong NE wind and an Atlantic swell, with spray in our faces. Up Bear River on an incoming tide first six then seven and a half knots, past Kilkenny, Big Tom and Redbird Creeks, down the Ogeechee River against the tide, cut through Hell’s Gate (a very narrow connecting passage) into the Vernon River where we picked up the incoming tide again and flew along at seven and a half knots with the jib up. Turned into the Burnside River, then through Skidaway Narrows and up the Skidaway River, then finally entering the Wilmington River at mile 585 ICU and our latest new anchorage on the Herb River (named for my friend Herb Wiegle back in Staunton.) 

 

Put in thirty-five miles today. This is a local hurricane hole where people bring their boats to anchor securely when hurricanes are predicted. Well protected with virtually no boat traffic. We are just a few miles from Thunderbolt, FL where we intend to take a night at Thunderbolt Marina, rent a car to provision and visit with a VMI Brother Rat, Gregory Scott Kinsey. Very excited to see him.

Blackbeard's Demise

April 27, 2014

Woke up to cloudy skies and cool temperatures. At 10:30 AM this morning a pod of maybe fifteen dolphin swam by headed up stream on an obvious foraging expedition. About an hour later they reappeared headed out. We noticed one with a torn dorsal fin, not an uncommon thing to see. Maybe an encounter with a shark or other predator – more likely an encounter with a boat in the ICW. These channels are narrow and, depending on where you are, crowded with boat traffic. Dolphins apparently didn’t get the memo about human activities that might be harmful to them.

This is a great anchorage – just off the ICW, shallow enough water, protected and private. A good place for next year on our return.

We proceeded north up the Mackay River through Buttermilk Sound, then up Little Mud River into Front River into the Sappelo River and finally into Sappelo Sound, past Blackbeard Creek and Blackbeard National Wildlife Refuge, both presumably named for Edward Teach (aka Blackbeard), an Englishman who turned to piracy as a career and plundered and pillaged his way along the Virginia and North Carolina coast and throughout the Caribbean in the early 1700 hundreds and who met his end at Ocracoke Island, NC on  Thursday, November 22, 1718 at the hand of Lieutenant Robert Maynard who engaged Blackbeard in hand to hand combat , finally wounding him with a pistol shot after which a Maynard crewman named Demelt stepped in and cut off Blackbeard’s head, which Maynard hung under the bowsprit of his sloop, Pearl, for all to see. Then Maynard traveled north to the Chesapeake Bay, all the while with Blackbeard, or a part of him so to say, hanging from the bowsprit, and finally up the James River to Williamsburg, VA to present his evidence of Blackbeard’s demise to the governor of Virginia, Alexander Spotswood, who had issued a proclamation, that among other considerations, called for the capture of Blackbeard. Governor Spotswood apparently had little faith that Carolinians had enough balls to control piracy.

As most accounts go Blackbeard was a “moderate” when it came to torture and murder as tools of submission, relying more on his  formidable appearance to frighten his victims into submission, although David Cordingly, in his excellent book on piracy, Under the Black Flag, states that Blackbeard may have had as many as fourteen wives, one of which was a teenager, taken from her family by Blackbeard and who he ravaged often and when he was done invited members of his crew to do the same while he watched.

This is a guy we named a national wildlife refuge after.

So, we passed Blackbeard National Wildlife Refuge, crossed the sound into Johnson Creek and entered Walburg Creek at mile 622 ICW and after a beautiful passage and anchored in sixteen feet at mile 620 ICW after a forty-five mile day. Beautiful anchorage with forest to the east. Foraging wood storks, great and snowy egrets and great blues a hundred yards away on a wild beach on the lee side of St. Catherine’s Island. This anchorage lies just south of St. Catherine’s Sound and Inlet, a safe and very navigable outlet to the Atlantic. Speaking of wood storks, look up a picture of and read about this beautiful bird. For a long time ornithologists thought the wood stork was closely related to wading birds like the equally beautiful egrets and herons. Turns out that the wood stork is closer to vultures. 

Now that I have filled your heads with images of pirates and vultures, good night and sweet dreams.

Some Ecology Considerations

April 26, 2015

We woke up at 6:30 AM to a beautiful, cloudless sky with moderate W winds, 75 degrees. The weather report called for more severe storms in the afternoon. Of course that didn’t happen – so much for weather forecasts.

I weighed anchor and we motored north on the Amelia River toward Fernandina. When I got the anchor aboard it had a sprig of red alga (sea weed) hanging on. Red algae, phylum Rhodophyta, contain certain pigments that impart distinctive red color. While looking the sprig over I noticed that attached to the thalli (stems) were hundreds of tiny copepods (arthropods) about 1 -2 millimeters long. I suspect that if I shook all these little creatures off the sprig there may have been an ounce by weight total. If this particular red alga species is a ubiquitous as I suppose it to be (I have brought it up on anchor before many times) and assuming this particular copepod species is associated, there must be hundreds, maybe thousands of tons (probably more) of these creatures in the waters along the ICW in this country. This one example illustrates the tremendous productivity of these marine ecosystems - the tremendous amount of energy sequestered in living organisms. And I’m just talking about one species.

These little guys, who graze on even smaller organisms on the surface of the sea weed, are food for small crabs and other arthropods and fish, which are food for larger fish, which are food for even larger fish, which are food for yet larger predaceous fish and marine mammals including of course the dolphins, our daily companions.

What a remarkable thing to think about – a food chain – and what effect breaking that chain by somehow eliminating a particular link – what effect that can have on all the organisms in the chain. And think of all the food chains in nature!

I had a great ecology professor in college who started his course with the proposition that ecology was pretty simple. Every living thing needs a place to live, air to breathe and something to eat. Everything else is just detail.

We crossed Cumberland Sound and the St. Mary’s River, the boundary between Florida and Georgia, with a strong NW wind on the nose. Headed north on St Mary’s past King’s Bay Naval Base, a major US Navy nuclear submarine installation. We passed through the Cumberland Dividings on the Cumberland River, crossed Jekyll Sound to Jekyll Creek, and passed Jekyll Island to the east, crossed St. Simonds Sound and St Simonds Island to the east, up the Mackay River to finally anchor on Wally’s Leg at mile 665 ICW after a sixty-one mile run. We sailed for a bit in Jekyll Sound, but as usual the wind was forward and contrary.

All this talk of sounds. The sounds we crossed were either wide or narrow channels spilling out into the Atlantic. Sounds are bodies of water formed by the coming together of two rivers or creeks and are the final, defined “water” that feed a sea or ocean. For us, basically they are places to look out to the ocean and wonder what it would be like “out there”.

Sweet Dreams

The New Main Goes On

April 25, 2015

We anchored at our favorite spot in the St Augustine harbor in site of Fort Castillo de San Marcos next to mark #6 (mile 778ICW).  Also next to Sandy who lives in her little sailboat right at this spot with her little dog – Mighty Hercules. Sandy gets up every morning and, in the company of Mighty Hercules, takes her dingy to the Augustine town dock where she works. She is somewhat of a legend in these parts and well known around town. She is about fifty years old and has lived in Augustine for about fifteen years, much of it on boats. She stopped by Flicka on the way in and told us she lives in an imaginary boat with her little imaginary dog and she was on her way to her imaginary job and she told us all this in a most chipper and happy manner. Maybe we are all imaginary.

We woke up to a beautiful morning with west light winds and after much contemplation decided to stand down from going off shore because of a not so favorable weather report which called for SE winds 15-20 knots (which actually would have been good) but strong storms moving in with high winds, lightning and hail.

In light morning winds we decided to put the mainsail up which turned out to be a major job lasting a couple of hours. The sail, as mentioned previously, is brand new and we have never deployed it. So now, complete with newly patch rat holes, we can get it going. Our mainsail deployment system includes the sail and a bag referred to as a “stack pack” which is a very convenient contrivance for receiving the sail when you take it down. The sail drops into the pack nicely instead of falling all over the deck. It eliminates having to flake the sail on the boom and use “sail ties” to secure it – a task that can be daunting in high winds and seas.

So with new main secured in its pack, at 10 AM away we went “inside” north along the ICW. At about 2 PM the weather finally arrived in the form of a wide front of thunderstorms, moderate gusty winds and lots and lots of rain and fog – not the kind of weather to be in out in the Atlantic – so good stand down decision. 

From Augustine we traveled north on the Tolomato River past Point Vedra and Jacksonville Beaches, crossed the St. John’s River at Mile 740 ICW and reentered the ICW in Sisters Creek. The St. Johns is a major shipping route from Jacksonville, home of the Jaguars of course. At mile 735 ICW we entered Sawpit Creek and passed Talbot Island to the east, crossed Nassau Sound and finally anchored at mile 725 ICW next to Harrison Creek on the South Amelia River after a fifty-two mile run. On both sides of the rivers and creeks in this country there are extensive and very productive marsh wetlands, lots of birds and the delightful and ever present bottle nose dolphins.