Friday, May 18, 2018

End of Season Fin & Tonic

X-ing Files #4-6, Deltaville

Our departure from Norfolk went awry with the engine overheating – thankfully not in front of those vast, grey Navy warships where anchoring is NOT permitted.  Security staff have big, nasty guns mounted on the front of their boats (as do the Coast Guard).  We crept back to the anchorage and the Cap’n put to work on finding the culprit.  At least the early morning downpour had cleared somewhat.  After our Cap’n Resolute crawled all over the engine, cleaned sea creatures from water filters and took a dip in less-than-appealing river waters (to check drains), off we set again.  Only to watch the temperature gauge rise steadily again.  Oh dear, back to the anchorage and time to consult those (many) manuals.  By the time we found the culprits – two not-so-tight hose clips allowing coolant to leak into the bilge, it was too late in the day to start off for a 50 mile run up the Chesapeake.  Pity really as the next day conditions were worse; wind and swell on the nose and lots of rain.  

So, for our last 'leg" of this long, long voyage we geared up in now standard attire – thermals and wet weather gear.  We’d even taken to wearing beanies...warm yes, but flattering, no.  We waved goodbye to Warship 64 wondering if she’d remembered our 2011 encounter mid-Atlantic, then negotiated our way passed all the commercial traffic and out this busy port.   

Conditions began to improve slowly as we inched our way up Chesapeake Bay.  By the time we had reached our cosy anchorage in Jackson Creek, the sun was out, the temperature (and barometer) was up and there was hardly a ripple on the creek.  Deltaville is such a magic place and we were so happy to be back!  And content to have survived the 6,371nm journey to get here.  

Our figures for 2018, including the other half of our Atlantic Crossing marathon, came in as follows:

From: Mindelo, Cape Verdes Lat/Long: 16:53.167N 24:59.447W  Date/Time: 13/01/18: 1020
To: Deltaville, USA Lat/Long: 37:32.921N 76:19.772W  Date/Time: 07/05/18: 1555
Time Taken: (this year): 808 hrs  Distance: (this year): 4638.5nm
Atlantic Crossing Distance: (2017&18): 6371.5nm
Atlantic Open Ocean Distance: (2017&18): 2181nm
Distance Total: (since 2008): 24,650nm  
Weather: Challenging weather continued this year with the Caribbean unexpectedly blowy too.  Lots of wind action off the US east coast kept us pinned in the ICW; at least we had a good run there.
Fastest Speed: We didn’t set any speed records but had good winds to sail (no motoring) across the Atlantic.  This was followed by a mixed bag in the Caribbean with some really great sailing weather then motoring when things weren’t going our way.  We bumped along the ICW doing the standard 5 - 6.5kts with the occasional burst from tidal currents.  
  
We will be “readjusting” to our regular cruising schedule in 2019, all things being equal, so there will be little to report until about April/May next year.  Yes, a long break but it really does snow here in winter and ice skating’s not for us.  Besides, we’ve paid our winter dues having just completed two, repeat two, winters in a row….  We (or should I say certain crew members) also need time to get over all that blue water excitement.  So, it seems fitting to end with this quote. 

“Once you have travelled, the voyage never ends, but is played out over and over again in the quietest chambers, that the mind can never break off from the journey.”  Pat Conroy

Amen, and a couple of Stugeron to that!
Unforgettable blue waters. WJ3 on a mooring at Warderwick Wells, a land &
sea park in the Exuma Cays, Bahamas. We did have some good weather days!

Tuesday, May 15, 2018

Yeah Buoy

X-ing File #6_A Gulf Stream Crossing & the Atlantic ICW
Belhaven to Norfolk
All this...and in pink. Still it is a deep water frontage with a lighthouse...
Having previously visited Belhaven, and with our sites firmly set on reaching Virginia at the start of May, planned side trips to historic cities dotted along the Neuse and Pamlico Rivers and up Albemarle Sound were slated for “another” day.  We plugged on through the long and stumpy Alligator-Pungo Canal, wondered at the number of bridges offering openings only on the hour and dodged more commercial traffic than we’d previously seen.  For your edification, Captains of commercial traffic advise either "a slow pass" or "meet me on" the one whistle (or tap) indicating a pass to port.  Two whistles (or taps) indicates starboard.  Fascinating reminder or times before radio communications.   We watched and felt for a hot water boat that managed to impale itself on an underwater stump just outside the channel; fortunately reversing off. 
View back along the stumpy Pungo
Another black river adding colour to WJ3's moustache

At least these stumps are not floating...yet

Passing a big tow "on the two" & taking
the Captain's advice so as not to snag a stump
Winds piped up for our crossing of Albemarle Sound; WJ3 found her sea-legs enjoying the romp.  We set the hook in the open waters of North River rather late in the day but otherwise celebrated our arrival at the Virginia Cut.  We were only 57 miles from Norfolk, Mile Zero.

Green 37. Most importantly, MILE 100! Yes!
The next day’s run took us through Coinjock, having to give the famous 32oz prime rib a miss, before finally crossing into Virginia at Pungo Ferry.  At Great Bridge we were “spoken to” by the bridge operator for not responding on VHF Channel 13.  We had no idea that he was even calling us, his accent quite broad and southern…  There’s a plethora of bridges in this section of the ICW, and as the weather was extraordinarily warm, we called it quits and tied up to the free dock before the Great Bridge Lock.  Better to take the next 10 miles in the morning.  Besides, families of geese were out taking their babies for walks and a swim.  And the local rowing team were dodging canal traffic like professionals during their practice sessions.  Sadly, it was too cold for crabs to be out yet (we caught a nice pot-full last time) so we had to settle for something from the freezer yet again.  The lock continued to be busy; we breathed in when that mini-cruise ship squeezed passed us though, lights blazing in the dark.  Now that’s the way to travel the ICW!
Early morning swimming lessons with mum & dad at Great Bridge Lock

This looked alarming; a school bus teetering on the edge of a cliff;
we think it was a training prop for emergency services though.

Norfolk in our sights

The hardworking end of Portsmouth
So, here we are, sitting on anchor off Hospital Point in Norfolk, feeling very pleased with ourselves.  Its only a day’s run to Deltaville, so we’re having a few days off here in this busy port city (the largest Naval Port in the world) to prepare for the madness of bedding down WJ3.  This will be our last post of the season (unless something really interesting happens in Deltaville), except for the End of Season tallies.  After this long and heroic season (2017 & 2018), we’re thinking of just gunkholing the Chesapeake next year.  Still, that’s 12 months away and anything can (& will) happen…

Wednesday, May 9, 2018

Cosmic Karma*

X-ing File #6_A Gulf Stream Crossing & the Atlantic ICW
Georgetown to Belhaven

(* Yes really, this floating vision was complete with pink flamingo (plastic of course, tied to the pulpit) and induced a "trip" back to the psychedelic 60’s & a need to hum something Jimi Hendrix.)
Off on a shopping trip in Georgetown 
Georgetown, once famed rice growing capital of the south, was also a seaport, vital to plantation resupply and to carry their produce to markets, both locally and overseas.  Here, tucked up inside its tiny harbour, we withstood a nasty off-shore weather system (a day of solid rain & continuing wild winds) before taking time to bike to a grocery store and explore the town.  We made a dash to the Gullah Museum and were given a thorough insight into the history of African-Americans in the area by a well-read and knowledgeable docent.  He began by showing us a quilt his wife had made in honour of Michelle Obama’s ancestors who came from this area.  Well, quilts and history - all the makings for another movie (as in “How to Make an American Quilt“ fame) and GS was kindly allowed to take photos of them.  The Gullah specialise in finely woven sweet-grass baskets with some pretty examples on show at the museum. Regrettably, it was time to move on…
Michelle Obama Quilt
We made for Bucksport, a favourite stop set on the upper reaches of the Waccamaw River in the midst of old rice plantations and cedar swamps.  It’s beautifully scenic, feels so remote, everyone’s friendly and we were given to understand that the fishing’s excellent in these black, brackish and fresh waters.  Nearby, tortoises sunned themselves on old cedar stumps, and we, like them, watched the world go by from our vantage point.  It was hard not to break out with a roaring (if not out-of-tune) rendition of “Summertime” (from Gershwin’s 1935 Opera “Porgy and Bess”). 
Tortoises enjoying the morning sun along the river

Spirit of Jefferson (a floating casino?)  coming round the bend off Bucksport

Early morning reflections on the Waccamaw River at Bucksport 
We now had the North Carolina border in our sights so didn’t dally.  The day was going to be long and trying.  The ICW runs along Myrtle Beach in a section known as The Rockpile.  Lined with shale, sharp, shallow and narrow, it’s not the place to meet a tow (a tug & barge(s) combo) or a large hot water boat with an even larger wake.  Once across the border (yahooo!!), it was time to negotiate several shoaled inlets, also noted infamous spots along the ICW.  Luckily, we managed to find ourselves zig-zagging across them on a rising tide.  So, it was with some relief we found the open but calm Cape Fear River anchorage and could finally set the hook.  We did wonder how "fear" came into its naming...
Here's a new angle on your boat house...

And the house with the Mermaid is for sale 
Noisy birds on a nearby spoil island provided us with a “wake-up” dawn chorus, so we took Snow’s cut at speeds we never thought Windjammer capable of achieving.  Deep water anchorages along this section, close behind North Carolina’s barrier islands are few and far between.  Meaning more long days and even longer distances, so it was fortunate indeed to find space in (and be allowed to use) Mile Hammock, a military boat ramp and basin tacked on the end of Camp LeJeune.  Old APC's line the live fire range, fortunately no sailboats.       

Finally, we reached Morehead City, from our viewpoint a jumble of industrial and port facilities, and a river alive with recreational fishing boats – enough to make you feel very sorry for the fish.  It was the weekend and Morehead City is renown for its fishing tournaments of all varieties.  We’d planned a stop at nearby Beaufort (this one said “bow fert”) but didn’t like our chances of anchoring, so headed up Newport River, through Adams Creek and out into the wide Neuse River.  It was such a pleasure to see plenty of sailboats enjoying a romp in early afternoon breezes. 
Cedar swamps aplenty 

And interesting collection of craft along the river too
Late in the afternoon, winds increased on Pamlico Sound almost instantly clearing the fleet but we persevered, turning at Bay River into a crab-pot infested Long Creek for another well protected, marsh anchorage.  Cap’n Tenacious had set a record – a 90nm, 13 hour day.  Still, we weren't too far off the ICW, and well placed to reach Belhaven the next day for a well-earned afternoon rest in their sheltered harbour. 

Saturday, May 5, 2018

Lil’E & Miss Ashley*

X-ing File #6_A Gulf Stream Crossing & the Atlantic ICW
Beaufort to Georgetown

(* Just a couple of hardworking tugs & said in your best Southern drawl)
Shrimp Boats tied to the dock near Thunderbolt
We tried for a mooring at Beaufort (said “bew fert”) but took a space dockside – a more secure solution as it turned out, when later in the day we watched boats bounce in strong winds opposing a strong river current.  From our vantage point (when a huge tide was in!) we overlooked a pleasant park that doubled as a tourist hub, providing us with close proximity to many activities, including a town bus, buggy rides, restaurants and pretty main street.
Beaufort Arsenal and History Museum within
Beaufort Arsenal details
Hunting was obviously a pastime too
We started with an enjoyable brunch then made a B line for the friendly Tourist Information Centre housed in the historic Beaufort Arsenal.  On recommendation, we visited the Arsenal Museum.  Gary, no less than a walking encyclopedia on Beaufort’s history, gave us a guided tour of this interesting collection.  This area was settled by the Spanish in 1514, followed by the French English and Union forces.  The area was made wealthy by firstly being a protected deep-water seaport, then from many plantations growing rice, indigo and sea-island cotton.  On the strength of this wealth, plantation owners were able to build large, attractive homes in Beaufort.  This ensured a pleasant lifestyle mingling with peers, cooling river breezes in stifling summer heat and opportunity to leave the plantation work to others.  Angus, the handsome Clydesdale, took us for a slow and very pleasant buggy ride around these beautifully maintained homes, most still privately owned. 
We took a tour of this historic Beaufort Landmark
John Mark Verdier House
What a handsome lad is young Angus
After all the excitement of Beaufort, we made it as far as Church Creek, another “wild” marsh anchorage where we spent the night relaxing in the middle of nowhere doing nothing.  Because we could.  Perhaps our most entertaining viewing of the day was along quiet reaches of the Stono River.  A dolphin had “partnered” local crabbers; a cunning plan to ensure first dibs on pot spoils tossed overboard (undersized, female crabs etc) as they hauled each pot.  You could swear it was a circus trick but no doubt rather trying for the crabbers.

Charleston was next on our radar, but having visited some years ago, we decided not to stop.  It’s just as well, the anchorage is now a mooring field and strong winds whistled up river.  We picked our way across the river, dodging huge tows, fishing fanatics and a flotilla of parasailers.  We swept by those wonderful heritage homes lining the river.  More recently, Charleston was home to Pat Conroy, a novelist noted for capturing the spirit of the South (The Prince of Tides). 
Palatial Charleston Townhouses

Parasailing in rough conditions across Charleston Harbor 
After crossing Charleston’s busy port (Is that an aircraft carrier coming down river?), it was time to face up for another long, shallow stretch.  At least we had a rising tide.  The winds were still up, blowing in from the Atlantic, so we threaded our way to Long Creek, off Deewees Creek.  (Don’t you just love these local names!)  This is another picturesque “wild” but quite well protected anchorage in the marshes.  The irony was that many of these creeks offered deeper water than many sections of the ICW.  We began to feel like locals, recognising many of our fellow travellers along the now busy ICW highway – it’s transit season in full swing. 
A very, very long tow

Finally, an end in sight to this tow...
Next stop was thankfully off the deep, black waters of Winyah River.  Cedar swamps and disused rice plantations line the river making it seem so remote and pristine despite the unusual colour from tannins.  We headed into Georgetown and set about making a spectacle of ourselves as we set anchor, then reset the anchor with a stern anchor, then reset the stern anchor again.  All in black oily mud dredged up by our chain.  And in front of a merry local crowd at a harbourside bar/restaurant.  Our efforts paid off though when we noticed a local boat (and its mooring) washed ashore after the stormy night. 
Oh dear! So glad we set that extra anchor last night...

Sunday, April 29, 2018

Man O Pause

X-ing File #6_A Gulf Stream Crossing & the Atlantic ICW
Brunswick to Beaufort
Hot cars, hot BBQ from a trailer and a vast, old boat
for sale.  Brunswick had lots to offer.
Our arrival in Brunswick was without precedent.  The waters were deep – such a joy, and the marina located in an historic seaport dating from 1771.  We needed a stop to refuel, re-provision and recuperate.  What we did not anticipate was to be met (and boarded) by the Coast Guard (day 1), a tornado warning (day 2) and a blizzard (not actually but it felt like it - day 3).  Still, we had a great time, starting with a car show and Farmers Market in a nearby park, a bike ride through interesting side streets of old town, a decent supermarket and finally a friendly cruiser “pot luck” evening at the marina where GS was able to have her fill of girl-talk, library books and wine.  We really did like Brunswick Landing Marina and might have stayed (forever) but decided to push on for the Chesapeake.  I think it was the tornado warning that did our heads in (or maybe it was the not-so-Thai food!).
Historic Buildings
And lots of beautiful parks

Well cared for historic homes

Low tide at Brunswick Landing - quite the tidal range in Georgia!
Georgia is a series of barrier islands, marshes and wide river inlets that show regular glimpses of the Atlantic.  Our challenge was to weave our way through these without hitting mud or shoals.  We found ourselves in the company of “Hakuna Matala” taking turns at leading the way, sometimes at full steam, others cautiously.  We anchored “wild” for the first time in Bear River, not wanting to leave the ICW too far off.  The bug house was connected (our insect curtains lowered to fully enclose us) to protect from midges (no-see-ums) and other nasties that inhabit the marshes here.  The night was peaceful and our only trauma in the early dawn was to have a fellow traveller watch us flounder as we grounded.  Whoops – caught cutting the corner to get back onto the magenta line!  Still we got off… (aren’t bow thrusters just the best) ready to take on Hell Gate, only a few miles away.
Really, we shouldn't moan about the depth of our keel
Moon River
“Liberty” followed us through Hell Gate and we both watched in amazement as a cruise ship (yes, unbelievable) attempted this shallow cut between islands in Ogeechee River.  We left them to it, making for Vernon and Moon Rivers (you know, that famous song Moon River – this is it and a lovely spot it is too!).  Next was the challenging Skidaway Narrows, home to a river otter population (none deemed to show their whiskery faces), before crossing the Savannah River and officially leaving Georgia.  We crossed Calibrouge and then Port Royal Sounds (both taking ages as we picked our way around shoal waters) before heading up a deep, rather turbulent Beaufort River (due to strong currents) to our destination of historic Beaufort for a well-earned break.  Hooray y’all!  We’ve survived Georgia and are now in deep South Carolina!
With one or two more bridges to go yet a-while

Tuesday, April 24, 2018

Liberty Belle*

X-ing File #6_A Gulf Stream Crossing & the Atlantic ICW
St Marys to Brunswick

(*A patriotic Southern Shrimp Boat)
WJ3 on anchor in St Marys River on a low, low tide
St Mary’s sits off Cumberland Sound, one of the more accessible deep-water inlets along the shallow Atlantic coastline.  The sound’s regular dredging has more to do with nearby Kings Bay Submarine Base than keeping keel boaters happy.  We had been tempted to do a portion of our trip “outside”, however regular, almost weekly, bouts of bad weather barrelling down the coast kept us on the ICW, with a plan to slow down, watch the tides and respect identified problem areas (aka really shallow ones).  

We had anchored off St Mary’s eyeing off the remains of the marina and a flotilla of broken boats – more hurricane damage and certainly not something that a small town could easily repair.  It was quite nice though to be off the ICW, a bit of a treadmill at this time of year, with many boaters returning home (or heading north) for summer.  Not that we’ve had too much warm weather to speak of!
Lots of historic homes
And plenty of Spanish Moss
Historically, St Marys dates back to 1767, early settlers included British and Acadian French.  By the 1870’s, it was prospering as a seaport.  Fortunately, St Marys survived the Civil War years and found new wealth in lumber, canning and fertilizer businesses.  Tobacco and cotton brought further wealth to the town.  We strolled through wide streets lined with well-cared for homes dating from colonial, antebellum and Victorian times, many with a view over wild marshes and uninhabited islands lining the complex river systems of this area. 
Orange Hall  c.1830-38, once surrounded by an orange orchard.
It is classic antebellum in Greek Revival Style
After a brief stopover, it was back to tide watching and that magenta line, our yellow brick road equivalent.  Luckily, our timing was perfect to sit at the back of three sailboats to watch their every move through those designated danger zones and many other surprises the ICW offers the unwary.  We were moving into Low Country.  Thank goodness for Navionics and our iPad!

Shallow water in the creek behind Jekyll Island sent us back to an anchorage near a small but popular marina.  Originally established as a plantation (cattle and maize), Jekyll Island became a fashionable spot in the late 1800’s for wealthy elite with a palatial club house, beach houses, a golf course, tennis courts, stables and a marina for their splendid yachts.  This once isolated pleasure estate is now a state park with much of it remaining undeveloped, although we spied a water park and a bridge to bring over the hoi polloi in cars.  As tempting as it was to bicycle “Millionaires Row”, we had our sights set on a Brunswick landing.  

Saturday, April 14, 2018

Chip Ahoy

X-ing File #6_A Gulf Stream Crossing & the Atlantic ICW

Ridin' the Ditch: Daytona to St Marys

Jacksonville Beach homes along the river...
Having spent the best part of a week working on tracking down and successfully fixing our electrical problems, it was time to move on.  The marina was a pleasant community with friendly neighbours, Gayle & Bill (Starting Over), showing us how appealing this kind of lifestyle can be.  However, our schedule had slipped and plans needed to be modified – yet again…  Mindful of tide times, and the notorious shoal at Matanzas Inlet (reminder to self: Spanish for “massacre”) across the ICW up ahead, we left early.  Our planning paid off and we successfully crept over shallow waters without incident. 

Our plan was to stop at St Augustine, a popular tourist town.  However, the anchorage had been transformed into a vast mooring field.  We didn’t plan to re-visit this historic city, so found a quiet anchorage just off the ICW, suitable for an early morning start.  With luck we could catch high tide and some (hopefully enough) water over the inlet.  Winds were up and the day overcast even at that hour, so it was hardly surprising to see Atlantic waves crashing over shoals.  We couldn’t get into the safety of the Tolomato River fast enough.  This is a deep river with fortunately few surprises.


Well, I think we're on a river somewhere. 
Needless to say, the weather closed in and at one stage; we (read GS) threw out the anchor in a wild corner of the river and sat out the heavy downpour and thunderstorms raging all around us.  We had dressed for the day in thermals and wet weather gear – ocean going gear for a run up a nice protected river!  All was now sodden, the inside of the boat almost as wet as the outside too.  Adding a further touch of the surreal to the scene, a huge ray chose that moment to spring from the river’s depths.

In a moment of respite, we up-anchored and moved on, hoping to find better conditions.  Our visibility quickly dropped again with more heavy downpours.  Trying to navigate by instruments alone proved very challenging.  We also muttered as hot water boats powered by, occupants snug and dry behind glass enclosed bridges, undoubtedly with heaters on.  Some had windscreen wipers!!  Pine Island anchorage had our name on it; the Cap’n relented and GS stopped moaning.  We called it a day and settled in, hoping for a little sun in the morning.  

Pine Island next morning showed a promising day ahead
Neighbours at Pine Island headed north in the early morning with us.  After picking our way across St Johns River’s interesting array of channel markets and shallow water, we allowed “Phoenix” to lead hoping to “stalk” them.  It proved to be an excellent decision given that we avoided going aground at least three times that day.  I should add that we were travelling, unavoidably, on a low tide.  Georgia has a much greater tidal range than Florida, so our days from now on would be short and very tide related.  

After passing smoking, odorous pulp mills at Fernandina Beach and noting much hurricane damage, we welcomed the deep waters of Cumberland Sound and made for St Marys, one of the oldest cities in the US.  It sits along a pretty river snaking its way westward through marshland, marking the border between Florida and Georgia.  Yep, Georgia.  Even better, the sun was shining and our Cap’n declared the electrics now fully functional.  Headway at last!


Early morning on St Marys River

Friday, April 13, 2018

Silly Rabbit

X-ing File #6_A Gulf Stream Crossing & the Atlantic ICW

Ridin' the Ditch: Vero Beach to Daytona

Silly Rabbit.  You may well ask?  This (boat) name seemed appropriate given we’d arrived at Halifax Harbor Marina on Easter Monday.  Also, in our attempt to get to Daytona the day before, we hit mud at New Smyrna Beach – not once, but twice…  Just a couple of dumb bunnies.  But not let’s get ahead of ourselves.

View over Vero Beach Marina (from a bus window)
Vero Beach was a lovely spot.  Warm, friendly and very well protected.  Ever so briefly, we finally caught sight of the elusive manatee.  Ever so reluctantly then, we let the mooring line slip off and motored north in less than promising weather.  Near Melbourne, GS threatened to take photos of the Cap’n against gray, threating skies. (A Melbourne weather joke of course!)  This stretch of the ICW follows the Indian River, as wide as a lake, with much of it shallow except for the charted channel that guided us; red to the left and green to the right.  Don’t step outside the lines or the mud will find you.  At this point too, it becomes more remote, rural even, although it’s often hard to tell what level of settlement hides behind miles and miles of swampy marshes.

There's always an audience at the fixed bridges too!
We anchored for the night with fellow travellers at a popular spot near the town of Coco.  The barrier island opposite is home of Cape Canaveral, NASA and to a myriad of spectacular, history making space launches.  Sadly, we’d missed one by only a few days.  We bypassed Titusville** cautiously crossing the Indian River into the unhappily named Mosquito Lagoon.  The Haulover Canal gave us plenty of opportunity to manatee-spot.  Floating mounds of globular jelly, with the occasional splash of a black, paddle-shaped tail, was the best we were going to get from these shy, sensitive creatures.  Beyond the Lagoon, the river became hemmed in by marshy islands and cedar swamps.  The fishing must be good as this area seemed a very popular spot for caravan parks (to use an Australian term), boat ramps and wildlife, including alligators. 

No hurricane damage here...
At last, our planned New Smyrna Beach anchorage came into sight, full of abandoned hurricane damaged hulks.  As it was early, the day overcast and uninviting anyway, we made a snap decision to carry on the 14 miles to Daytona.  Forgetting of course, that it was low tide.  Red 34 saw to our undoing.  Somehow in 4’ of water, and with lots of bow thrusting, an intense Cap’n moved WJ3 back into deeper water – well, enough to float us!   As we moved off, another couple of sailboats charged by.  The Cap’n warned them, but somehow, they both made it through.  “Let’s follow them!” proved a ruinous decision – we ended back on that shoal.  Luckily, having provided much entertainment for the drinkers at the Yacht Club/Marina, we pulled off and slunk back to the anchorage.

Endless miles of marshes & midges (no-see-ums)
As if life wasn’t challenging enough, our electrical problems became serious.  We just managed to get the anchor down.  Sensing trouble, the Cap’n left our motor running all night.  It’s just as well.  Our morning’s exercise was hauling chain and a heavy anchor.  Once snuggled in our Daytona marina berth, there wasn’t enough electricity in the batteries to turn off WJ3’s engine.  Silly rabbits, indeed!

**Titusville scorched itself into our memories in 2009.  Who could forget a lightning strike, resulting in replacement of quite a few bits of electrical kit plus some mast head fittings?