105 Bucksport, SC to Palatka, FL

A line of rooftops, richly landscaped yards, beach and ocean stretch to their vanishing points on the horizon at Isle of Palms. For just $3.2 million the view and 4-bedroom, 4-bath home below the rooftop deck could be ours. Earlier we’d looked at a $500,000 home inland with a master bedroom larger than Odyssey. Our tour hosts, Toby and Sonya sold I Gotta Go and are temporarily land dwellers. Toby is working as a real estate agent and made our custom home tours possible. An outstanding dinner at the One Eyed Parrot provided a great opportunity to see Jeff their son again. He now manages the restaurant and is building a boat he’ll use for clam farming in the South Carolina marshes.

We couldn’t figure out why the sailboat was leaving Isle of Palms when we did at 7AM. We could easily pass under the Ben Sawyer Bridge a short distance south. The sailboat would be stuck until the rush hour opening restrictions lifted. We forgot about them until the VHF came alive with a discussion between the bridge tender and the sailboat. The sailboat insisted there was an 8AM opening listed in their cruise book and so the bridge should open. Loved their logic. The bridge tender wasn’t impressed, and we could hear her frustration building as she repeatedly explained the bridge was restricted from 7 to 9. The bridge prevailed, and the sailboat finally announced they’d anchor and wait.

Beaufort, SC historic district

Favorable tidal currents brought us into Beaufort, SC in time for a haircut for Ruth and a leisurely late lunch. We spent the next morning finding a few streets we hadn’t explored before. We gravitated into the historic district enjoying old homes tucked in around live oaks dripping with Spanish moss. A sound bite of history compliments of the horse drawn carriage driver describing the town to the couple aboard escaped around the clip-clop of the horses hooves and added charm to the shady scene. We made it back to Odyssey in time to watch the afternoon parade of boats join us at anchor.

Between Odyssey and the entrance to Cattle Pen Creek five sailboats rested at anchor. We’d passed them the previous day and then enjoyed watching them anchor late in the afternoon. Now at first light we quietly threaded our way past, a task made easier with the high tide. For us, it was five fewer boats to pass during the day ahead.

Two ladies arranged their lawn chairs on the sidewalk corner. Curious, we stopped, chatted and learned the Brunswick Christmas parade would be starting soon. We continued on to accomplish our main mission–having breakfast at the one open restaurant we’d found and then went back to enjoy the parade. A hometown mix of police cars, fire trucks, church groups, a few simple floats and three bands went by for over an hour. The sunny 80-degree day prompted Santa to show up in shirtsleeves riding on a fire truck.

Many old homes maintained in pristine condition made for great walking along Brunswick’s streets. We explored until we found Lovers Oak, a huge very old live oak reported to be the traditional meeting place of lovers. Shrimp boats rafted two and three deep line the river bulkhead just below the marina. Low tide provided perfect viewing down onto decks awash with nets and fishermen getting ready for their next trip. Weaving our way slowly around the clutter of welding torches, rope, nets, supplies and fishermen provided a perfect excuse to savor the scene at a leisurely pace.

Baby alligators sunned themselves on a shallow bank of the Jekyll Island pond we check on each stop. For us, it’s our second brood of babies since we began visiting the island. We quietly watched and could hear their call in the quiet. Further along the pine needle covered trail we entered a familiar clearing and were surprised to see incoming tide slowly beginning to flood the bike path. We stopped and watched for a half hour as the full moon tide slowly reached its high water point, paused and then began to recede.

Our week’s stay at Jekyll yielded unplanned meetings with old and new friends. Claire Sailing with Dene and Anita showed up. We’ve never planned a meeting, but always seem share a port each year. The dock took on a unique look as Double Pleasure, the sailing version of Odyssey, tied up so we were bow to bow. We’d spent time with Bill and Joan at Isle of Palms and Beaufort. Endeavours took over when Ammy Boo with Ralph and Bonnie Jean showed up for an afternoon with their just launched sister ship to Odyssey. We were old friends by e-mail and now finally met in person. Friends showing up provided the perfect excuse to enjoy delicious breakfast and lunches at the Millionaire’s Club. First we sampled the quiet elegance of the main dining room for breakfast and then on another day tried lunch at the recently restored Crane cottage. Then for variety we sampled the Huddle House, Sea Jay’s and Blackbeards. We are doing our personal best to make sure the restaurants on Jekyll Island don’t go out of business.

The volunteer crew from all over Jekyll Island transformed the historic district into Christmas-trimmed splendor. Seeing Christmas decorations when it’s 80 out never seems right, but the warm temperatures sure were nice when we walked the roads one evening enjoying the beautifully lighted trees lining the entrance to the island.

The north shore of the St Johns River has huge sea container cranes and other large industries associated with a busy seaport. Across the river on the south shore large homes with well-tended lawns line the shore. Things sorted themselves out as we reached Jacksonville and city buildings overflowed filling both shores. We continued on, leaving exploration of Jacksonville for later. City gave way to residential and marinas.

“Captain the bridge will be closed for repairs until 5PM.” We were trapped on the wrong side of the bridge. We’d tucked into the Ortega River the day before to visit with Roy and Lynn on Lyndal K. Had we known, we would have anchored short of the bridge and dinghied the last few hundred yards for our visit. Now we anchored and spend a pleasant afternoon watching the repair crew alternate working with scrambling off the bridge when trains approached. Some day we’ll see if Playboy is interested in publishing: Waiting For the Bridge To Open. So much for our early afternoon arrival at Doctors Lake; now arrival would be well after dark at a strange marina.

A cell phone call alerted Laurent and Judy (formally on Blitzen now cruising aboard an RV complete with a small car for a dinghy) of our approach to the marina. Our combination of a GPS route to follow and radar to assist in seeing in the dark made the night run to Doctors Lake uneventful. Finding our assigned covered slip in a dimly lit marina we’d never seen before was a challenge. Our portable high-powered spotlight illuminated small sections of the docks ahead providing a view similar to looking through a very small keyhole well away from one’s eye. Laurent and Judy caught lines as Ruth eased Odyssey into the slip. We settled in and renewed old friendships and caught up on one another’s adventures.

Doctors Lake intrigued us so after waving good-bye to Laurent and Judy we headed west in fog down the lake. A swampy, cyprus stretch of shore caught our attention, and we eased in until just two feet of water under our bottom showed on the depth sounder. For two days we enjoyed the quiet of the lake. Ashore buzzards roosted in the upper branches of trees a hundred yards away. Below in lower branches egrets took up residence. Entertainment became watching the contrast in black and white. Strict segregation between the species was maintained, but within each group abundant jockeying for the best perch was very much in evidence. Both groups became very vocal at sunset, evidently saying goodnight to one another.

Swimming Pen Creek by day yielded two large alligators sunning themselves along the banks about a half-mile upstream from the end of shoreline homes. Two other alligators swam slowly and then disappeared as we quietly glided closer. Our two shoreline companions felt we were coming too close and slid into the water with barely a ripple and disappeared in the tannin-black water. We returned to the populated area of the creek in the evening to enjoy the waterside display of Christmas lights lining docks and shorelines of almost every home.

Green Cove Spring’s city marina is not listed in our cruising guide. We learned about it while exploring by car with Laurent and Judy to see the town’s sulfur spring. It bubbles up and then flows through a swimming pool before making its short run to the river. As the friendly city hall staff took our $20 fee for an overnight stay they mentioned that we could stay the day for free and anchor just off the dock for free if we chose. As we signed for the slip complete with electricity and water we noticed their last boater had registered a month earlier. Not a busy place. During our trip up we hadn’t seen another cruising boat, and it was becoming apparent we were off the main route of boaters spending the winter south.

It seems strange to be talking about going up the St Johns River while heading due south. The river is one of the few in the USA that flow from the south to north. We headed south and found our holiday storage home for Odyssey at Palatka at the Boatyard Marina, a quiet and very funky marina. While Odyssey rests, we’ll head north to Rochester, NY to spend the holidays with our kids and family.

Visibility is zero. Looking up from three feet underwater just a vague hint of daylight can be seen. By feel I install new zincs to Odyssey’s running gear. We’ll be ready for returning to salt water sometime in February.

Palatka is off the winter tourist beat. It’s a quiet piece of old Florida. We walked the historic districts enjoying the huge old homes, some restored to their old splendor, some waiting for their comeback. We’ll do more exploring when we return in January.

81 Beaufort, SC to Hampton, VA

Ladies Island Bridge at Beaufort, SC passed overhead. At 30′ it’s no longer a factor as we travel the ICW. This morning it helped us get a head start on the northbound sailboats gathering for its hourly morning opening. Hours later the Limehouse Bridge just below Charleston announced the bridge was inoperative waiting for repairs. With a 12′ clearance we would have to wait. The bridge had been closed for hours. Ahead at anchor were sailboats, motor yachts and the four sport fish yachts that had passed us an hour earlier. I checked tide tables and confirmed with the bridge tender. With the tide out, bridge clearance was 14′. We threaded our way through the anchored fleet and headed toward the bridge. Standing on the raised portion of the bow, I confirmed clearance by lining up the bridge bottom and the top of our antennas. Giving Ruth a ‘thumbs up’ as she slowly brought us up to the bridge I ducked as we passed under. Just the tip of our VHF antenna touched the bridge.

Rick and Joan joined us at Charleston and became our first guests to stay aboard for a few days. We poked around Charleston exploring the historic district. Weddings seemed almost as numerous as the profusion of springtime flowers. Church bell caroling, radiant brides and proud dads riding by in horse drawn carriages, and weddings in the park, seemed to be the common thing to see and hear on a beautiful spring Saturday.

Enjoying breakfast overlooking the water we noticed the expanse of tidal flat below rapidly changing as we watched. It was easy to see the flat expanding and changing character on the outgoing tide. It provided an interesting morning diversion-we’re easy to entertain. Later we took Odyssey out and explored Charleston Harbor giving Rick and Joan a feel for a trawlercat underway and a look at Charleston, Fort Sumpter and the aircraft carrier Yorktown from the water.

On the move again, we took extra time to enjoy the charming Waccamaw River. We’d both made notes in our personal diaries about spending more time in the area. We poked up Thoroughfare Creek, like the wilderness feeling and decided to stay. Concerned about bottom snags, I rigged a trip line to the anchor and we settled in for a pleasant night at anchor.

Early the next morning things didn’t seem quite right. During the night we’d swung around on the out-going tide, but that didn’t account for the now visible ICW marker at the creek entrance. Then we noticed the trip line float was half submerged. I’d rigged too short a trip line. On the rising tide in the night the float tripped the anchor. We’d dragged about 200 yards directly down the middle of the creek on the out-going tide. We anchored again, this time without a trip line on the anchor and all was well.

By our Midwestern standards Thoroughfare Creek is more like a river. Over 20′ deep in places, and 100 yards or more wide in many places, it winds back through a cypress tree-lined marshy shore. We explored by dinghy enjoying the wilderness.

We’ve moved up in the relative speed rankings on the ICW. On Tranquility we rode in the middle of the sailboat speed distribution. At 36′ we were faster than shorter boats and slower than longer ones. Next up in speed ranking are trawlers. They usually make 8-10 knots. Motor yachts are next traveling at 15-20 knots. Finally at the top of the speed ranking are sport fish yachts at 20-30 knots. We are finding we fit into a new niche. We’re faster than trawlers and just a little slower than motor yachts. However, speed comes at a price. Now we burn diesel at five gph (gallons per hour) where before we burned 0.8 gph.

Broken boats random luck and a great sea story all came together in Beaufort, NC. As we came up on the town dock by dinghy three 70′ ocean racers were tied off. Their sleek appearance looked even sleeker without their masts towering overhead. All three had been demasted. Broken lifelines and gear still cluttered decks as we passed by. Our random encounters kicked in when we spotted Claire Sailing as we started walking out the dock. Our paths cross about once a year without preplanning. Warm welcomes from Dene and Anita were followed by, “Have you seen the boats? We’ve got one of their stories.” They had received a copy of the e-mail the bowman on Zephyrus IV (the ocean racer at the dock with the most damage) had sent to some friends a day earlier. A vivid description of their wild ride in the Key West to Baltimore race added dimension to the wreckage just across the dock. Two carbon fiber spinnaker poles broke in 50-knot winds. The boat was going over 20 knots when the mast snapped off at the deck jumped forward still vertical and then crashed through the deck taking out the head, but not piercing the hull. Luckily no one was hurt. We walked the dock together taking a closer look at what a storm can do to boats built too close to design limits.

A second unplanned reunion occurred in Oriental. We had just anchored when Caribbean Soul motored around the point. We had planned to spend the winter with them exploring Florida’s West Coast. Because of boat-switching, we’d missed them. Our unique appearance gave us away, and they raised us on the VHF. Ashore we enjoyed a warm reunion with Richard and Jory and brought them out to tour Odyssey. We’re looking forward to spending more time with them in Annapolis.

It was early when we broke up our raft with Blitzen on the Alligator River and headed for the Alligator River Bridge and Albermarle Sound. We were both eager to get across before forecasted high winds hit. A temperature and culture shock greeted us as we reached the canal on the other side of the Sound. As we came off the open water the temperature climbed from the comfortable 70’s to the hot 90’s. Then being a hot Sunday, everyone who owned a small boat was out on the water. Since all there is along the stretch from Coinjock to Great Bridge is fairly narrow canal, small boats pulled water skiers and tubers up and down the canal. We continually slowed so as not to run down boats retrieving people from the middle of the channel. We made a note not to run this passage on warm weekend days.

A goal was in site. We could push on to Hampton. There we’ll let forecasted 30-knot winds pass while we enjoy port for a few days. A cell phone call to the marina brought potential disappointment. A boat show was in progress and the dock master could not be sure there would be an open slip. We decided to risk it knowing we could anchor out if nothing was available. Late Sunday evening after 116 miles of congested traveling we reached Hampton. Slips had opened up and we could dock.

We hadn’t backed into a slip since St Petersburg. With no one to catch a line we had to be close for me to make the jump down to the low dock. Both of us were tired and it was hot. However we both recognized it was a good opportunity to learn a little more about handling Odyssey and improve our teamwork. The first two tries we aborted early; a slight current was carrying us away from the finger pier. Regrouping, it took three more tries before we got the alignment right and Ruth backed us gently along-side the dock making the jump easy for me. Lines secured, power connected and AC running to cool Odyssey’s interior, we headed up to see if the dock master was still around and look for ice cream.

56 Exumas

Like a chain of irregular pearls the Exuma Cays extend for 96 miles in a north to southeast direction. To their east, the 6,000-foot depths of Exuma Sound end abruptly against the coral reefs guarding their eastern shore. On the western side, the Exuma Banks rarely achieve a depth exceeding 20-feet and in many areas, the depths are less than Tranquility’s draft of 5 feet. Most of the cays are less than a mile wide and many are even narrower. Passage between each of these ‘pearls’ is either not possible or narrow and twisting. Swift tidal currents in the narrow passages and many of the anchorages add an element of excitement. We navigate near the cays by sight, picking our passage by the color of the bottom in the incredibly clear water.

We sat in Tranquility’s cockpit at Warderick Wells mesmerized by the scene before us. Every now and then, Ruth mumbled: “Wow! I can’t believe the color. I’m sure glad we came to the Exumas.” We were moored at Warderick Wells, headquarters for Exuma Land and Sea Park. Spread out before us was the entire spectrum of blues fading to greens to the yellows of sand. We sat for an hour or more, just looking, enjoying the view.

Hunger pains overcame scenery, and Ruth fixed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Flashes of yellow joined us in the cockpit. Bananaquits-chickadee- sized birds with yellow breasts, joined us for lunch. We’d often seen them at a distance on other cays. Here, they’d lost their fear of people and boldly came into the cockpit. One hopped down onto my plate and proceeded to eat the dab of jelly that had fallen from the sandwich. We enjoyed the close-up inspection, then attempted to shoo it away. It didn’t work. The bird relocated to the wheel, then a buddy flew below to check out things in the main cabin. When we went below to chase it out, it was evident the bird was used to being inside. As we shooed, it calmly moved to different perchs. Finally it decided to leave, flying back out the companionway. We broke out the screen to keep not bugs, but birds out of the cabin.

Some adventurers leave their mark atop Everest. Cruisers leave their mark atop Boo-Boo Hill on Warderick Wells. Ruth wrote “Tranquility 3/99” on the crab trap float we’d carried since it had fouled our prop over a year ago. We made the ritual climb to the top and joined the special group of cruisers that have made it to one of the remote cruising crossroads of the world. There in the late afternoon we paused to read boat names and dates. We found a friend, Windswept IV, a Canadian boat we know and left Tranquility’s mark close by. Someday we’ll return to add a new date to our marker.

We volunteered to help out the park and spent the morning taking apart obsolete stairs that had once been used to let people climb down into some sinkholes that abound on the island. In exchange for our work, our mooring for the night was free. Just as we were finishing, a call for help came over the VHF. A boat attempting to moor had problems, fouled their prop and was on a collision course with a moored boat. A run to the dock, and fast ride to the site allowed me to fend off the boat and then use the dinghy as a fender to keep the boats apart. Then, once everyone had calmed down and lines cleared, I helped the new boat pick up the mooring in the swift current.

Sound helped us locate the blowholes indicated on the trail map for Warderick Wells. There we were looking at two irregular holes in the rock looking like nostrils of some primeval huge beast trapped in the earth. An incoming wave filled the cave beneath us and the beast snorted again, a wonderful sound much like what you would expect 100 bulls snorting at the same time filled the air. Bending down to get a better look air rushing from the holes blew my hat high in the air.

We lingered over breakfast at the Staniel Cay Yacht Club discussing where we’d go next. A long day sail would take us to George Town, destination and winter home to hundred of cruisers. We realized we’d only be going to say we’d been there. It was time to turn and head north. Satisfied with our decision we sat back and noticed our surroundings. Hurricane shutters were hinged at the top and propped out with sticks, to form an awning over each window to keep out rain and sun. The windows were screened, but had no glass. We were in the tropics.

The highlight of Staniel Cay is Thunderball Cave made famous in the James Bond movie, Thunderball. This is a premiere dive spot in the Exumas. Fish spotted the bag of crackers Ruth was carrying and proceeded to mug us. A wall of flashing yellow, blue and silver closed in, blocking our view. Fish were inches in front of our face, and yet attempts to reach up and touch one were futile. Ruth opened the bag and the rush for the crumbs was on. As we moved forward, the ever moving, flashing wall opened just enough so we moved without ever touching a fish. The crumbs ran out just as we approached the cave entrance. The fickle fish lost interest and drifted revealing the darkness of the entrance. As we swam in, three small shafts of bright sunlight from small holes in the cave roof reflected off the water lighting the stalactites above in shimmering reflected light. A few fish swam with us adding muted flashes of color to the water. Under water the blue opening of another entrance could be seen. We floated slowly around enjoying the subtle unique beauty of the grotto for quite some time.

We anchored early at Hawksbill Cay. Ten feet off our stern a lone 6-foot barracuda took up station, evidently waiting for a treat. We thought we might have the Cay to ourselves, but by evening we shared the anchorage with 7 other boats. The cairn high atop a very steep rocky hill aroused our curiosity. We took the dinghy ashore and made the climb. Terrain was like many of the other cays in the Exumas. Large slabs of limestone rocks filled with small potholes. The potholes catch small amounts of soil from which grow a variety of bushes, most only about 7-10 feet high. Between the potholes the rock is uneven and walking requires careful attention to keep from turning an ankle. We enjoyed the view and added another rock to the cairn. Exploring further we found the ruins of Loyalists homes. These expatriates from the US Revolution had a tough time trying to farm where the only soil is in potholes.

The northern and Central Exumas have few all weather anchorages. We treated ourselves to the marina at Highborne Cay to duck 30-knot winds forecast to clock to the west. With a population of 11, we didn’t expect to find a new seawall protecting new docks. The marina was newer than the guide books so the surprise was complete. Adding to the surprise was finding Dene and Anita on Claire Sailing. We’d last seen them a year ago in Man-O-War and as then, they had John and Mary as guests. Over the year, we’d kept in touch by e-mail, but had not coordinated meeting up. We went off snorkeling together and then had a grand dinner aboard Claire Sailing swapping notes about our travels.

For entertainment we watched 4 megayachts come in and dock. They too were looking for shelter from the winds. It was interesting to see their captains’ maneuver these huge 120 foot wonders as easily as if they were 30-footers.

The wind went west during the night and then around to the north. Blocked from sailing north, and not wanting to spend another day at Highborne Cay, we decided to sail back to Cape Eleuthera. With 20-knot winds on the beam, we had a beautiful five-hour sail to the east, back to the Cape Eleuthera