While in Jacksonsville we got some visiting in with Mike (Joyce's brother), Sherry and the kids. Joyce spent Sunday night with them, giving Mike a ride to work so we could borrow his car for the day to run errands. Thanks Mike! It didn't take long for her to lose the novelty of driving again after missing her turn and driving an extra hour in rush hour traffic. But, most importantly we got our cooking fuel tanks refilled and now we're cooking with gas again. Joyce had a much anticipated visit wandering around the local Walmart and the grocery store. After which we picked Mike up from work, had dinner together with the family before returning back to the boat.
After what you might call a short but sweet family visit, we left from Jacksonville Beach Tuesday morning under clear skies and light winds just behind Starlight. It was one of those rare mornings where everything went quicker then expected (especially after the last few busy days) and we were away from the dock before 7:30 AM. We really only expected to make the 35 mile trek up to Fernandina Beach for the day and then evaluate the weather for an offshore run the next day. So how did we end up on an overnight run to Charleston that day?
Well, as we motored up towards the St. Johns River, half in jest, I radio ahead to Starlight to see if they might be persuaded into making a right turn heading out to sea. A few minutes later they radio back saying that they have turned right and are heading out towards the inlet. Joyce and I exchange a "who struck John" glance at each other, make a quick decision and tell them that we're right behind them. We clear the breakwater an hour later finding that Starlight has set a course for Fernandina Beach via the offshore route while we've already made our minds up to head for Charleston. Plugging in a way point for the sea buoy at Charleston shows it at 148 nautical miles at about 15 degrees magnetic. At 6 knots, that would put us in around 2:00 PM the following afternoon. Add a couple of hours to get in the harbor and tucked away and that's about 4 o'clock, plenty of time to get in before dark if we should go slower or have problems. An hour later, Starlight radios to say that they will in fact be accompanying us. So we all settle in, set the spinnakers and coast our way out to sea.
Our new three favorite words in the English language... "It's your watch". After dinner, Joyce and I agree on a watch schedule for the night. Joyce will stay on watch until 8:30, I'll take over from then until 11:30, she takes it until 2:30 and I'll wake her around 5:30 to take over until breakfast. Somehow, she's finagled her way into getting the sunset and sunrise watches and they turn out to be awesome. But truly, after sailing all day and then peering out through the clammy darkness of night as you're sailing along, there is nothing like crawling into a warm, secure berth for a few hours of blissful peace; even if you must put up with cats crowding you for space.
Being at a time of the new moon, we had nothing but a few faint stars for light. It was so dark... "How dark was it?" It was so dark that at times we could not distinguish the sky from the sea. Even so, the night passed pleasantly enough. We sailed under spinnaker all through the day as the wind filled in and backed a little more to the southeast. By dinner time, the wind was on our beam such that we were tearing through the water at a fine pace but contemplating taking the sail down soon before dark. But as dusk approached, the wind clocked back around and eased so we for once decided to carry on after dark with the spinnaker flying. With the autopilot driving and the spinnaker carrying us along at about 6 knots with flat seas, we really had very little to do on the first few hours of night watches (except keep track of our hourly position and look out for ships). But by the change of watch at 11:30 our speed was down to around 5 knots with the wind clocking even further on our stern. We discuss taking the spinnaker down again but decide to carry on a bit more. By midnight, our speed is down again and the spinnaker won't stay full as it's being blanketed by the mainsail. So back up on deck I go for our first night-time spinnaker take down. The cats get a little anxious as the spinnaker comes down the main hatch on top their heads, but all goes well and I'm back in my bunk a half hour later.
At the turn of my watch later that morning, I see that Joyce has decided to set out the fishing line. I really don't expect to catch much of anything in these near shore waters. So I'm surprised when lo and behold we hook one up an hour later. I land the fish, a small Frigate Mackerel, filet it, stick it in the ice box, and clean up the boat, all without Joyce knowing about it as she's busy snoozing down below. She's surprised when I announce that she's caught her first fish... all while fast asleep.
We reach the Charleston outer sea buoy around 1:00 PM that afternoon, just an hour ahead of our original calculations. Two painful hours later of fighting the tremendous current that floods out of Charleston Harbor and we are tied up at the Ashley Marina, near downtown Charleston. We clean up the boat and relax for the rest of the afternoon, ending with fresh fish dinner aboard Starlight (Brian caught a fish too). As we had been able to sleep well on our respective watches, we felt pretty refreshed, although it was an early evening.
It's great to be in Charleston. But what did we miss by departing the Intracoastal Waterway and going offshore? Starlight, who is doing the ICW trek for the fourth time, tells us that the grass swamp lands of Georgia are full of bird life. We've also missed an opportunity to visit Savannah as well as the coastal resort islands of Cumberland, Jekyll, and Hilton Head. But all told, we feel glad to have made the compromise. Much of the trip through Georgia follows a windy route, is shallow and many boats run into trouble with the 8-9 foot tidal difference. I'm told that very often you will see another boat not far up ahead going around one of the bends only to find out that they are hours ahead of you! And the flies there in Georgia... they are so big that you'd better lock the hatches because those guys might just open them up and come in to get you!
Back at Charleston, it's finally time for Joyce and I to decompress after our trip back from the Bahamas. We spend the rest of the week giving the boat and ourselves some much needed TLC. Watermark finally gets a much needed bath; the first real one in probably 6 months. Even the sails get a fresh water rinse on one morning so calm there's not enough breeze to move the flags. And we treat ourselves to long hot showers and a convenient connection to the Internet.
Friday night downtown is an Art Walk and all the galleries downtown are open serving wine and food. Even without the Art Walk, downtown Charleston is a treat for the eyes and the nose with flowering plants in bloom in every courtyard and alley. Lots of people out and about enjoying the warm weather.
I think Starlight sensed that we were so content just to hang around Charleston that we may never leave. But unlike us, they have somewhere to go (they have plans to sail to Maine in June after visits with family) and a schedule to meet so on Saturday they forged ahead without us behind. They set out for Wrightsville Beach via the offshore route, a route that we plan to follow after a few more days of bumming around Charleston.
It finally happened. After months of wondering when it would happen IT finally happened. Not the way we expected, but it finally happened. One of the cats fell in the water. And you know, a wet cat is a very humble cat. All week long we struggled to keep Atlas on the boat. We barricaded all the exits but even still, every time we looked Atlas had made it to the dock. He always seemed terribly pleased with himself after we retrieved him from behind another dock box. But Apollo would just sit and look over at the dock in what we mistook as a desire to get off himself. So Joyce scooped Apollo up that Thursday evening and set him on the dock. Apparently, that's not what he wanted. The next thing you know, he panics and tries to jump back on the boat. Unfortunately the netting we strung up to help keep him on the boat also does a great job at keeping him off the boat. His jump lands him in the netting where he momentary tries to cling on. But it's too thin for him to get a good hold so he lets go with nowhere to go but down into the water and under briefly. I think that cats really can swim, but he doesn't get much of a chance to test his gills. Seconds later, I'm on the dock grabbing him up by the scruff and tossing him back onto the boat (luckily the docks were floating which made him easier to recover). One sad, pathetic, soaking wet cat. Apollo doesn't know what to do except run down below, but I'm not letting this wet cat get into my bunk. One good shake and he would get rid of most of the water, but he doesn't seem to know how to. We towel dry him off as best as we can and then let him retreat below. It was really uncanny how Atlas sensed his brother in need for he comes over to consol Apollo and spends hours helping him dry off. Thankfully Apollo seemed to recover quickly, didn't seem mad at us and even was quite loveable and friendly later that night. However, he didn't seem to anxious to venture out in the cockpit for a few days and never got close to the edge of the boat.
Oh well, it's now Sunday and the weather looks good for our departure tomorrow. The tide doesn't turn until about noon and this next leg is only 120 miles so we don't need to leave early. One more day of sleeping in. Sure going to miss that!
