Down Again!

Waiting for the bridge in Saint Augustine.  "El Galeon"' the name of this Galleon. They struggled mightily to find just the right name. Little did they know what a wonderful perch it would be for the wondering/wandering osprey.

First an old world vessel from Spain, now a sleek young thing from Kiwi-land. Here's to my lovely family down under.

Beautiful

Fernandina Beach Marina. The guides say it's a wonderful place for cruisers. All you need, you can dock or take a mooring. The sunset was spectacular, but...........

we had to close the hatches from the sound and smells which were entirely obnoxious and noxious. This was to the south of us.

This was to the north of us. Our last stop in Florida.

Blessing the Fleet in Brunswick Georgia. 

not just for shrimp boats anymore

stopped in Kilkenny Marina, pretty laid back, but shrimp for 5 dollars a pound!

lots of Green Herons in this marshy place.

cats are pretty cool about it all now

20-26 knots of wind on our nose and the current keeping us broadside, in Bull Creek

rafts of weeds everywhere

"Pickle" met Ron waiting on the tide to get through Hell's Gate where the shoals shallowed up the channel to 3 feet in one spot at  MLW. He was anchored in Bull Creek the next day, so we chatted and got his picture. From the windy city of Winnipeg, he wasn't bothered.

We are now at Ladys Island Marina, Beaufort South Carolina, with transmission problems. Oh, and that's pronounced Bewfort. Beaufort is in North Carolina.

So send good vibes please, while it is nice here we'd like to be on our way closer to Canada. Specially since Isaac sent us the video sailing Bras D'Or Lakes

Mosquito Lagoon

We left Peck Lake reluctantly, but supplies were low, we'll return. Fort Pierce was our next port of call and much to our delight they had the best Farmer's Market ever. Loaded up with fresh fruit and vegies all at better prices than Publix and tried not to eat our way through every food booth. I did however indulge in the very best Jamaican Beef Patties and added two new scarves to my collection.

The first two pictures below are Andy, who was our next door neighbour. He's from Seattle, but seems to be coping with the Florida climate just fine.

We moved on to Vero Beach, sitting in a nice cove on a mooring, waiting for a break in the weather. Mostly rain but thunderstorms all over the place.

The weather relaxed a bit and we headed north again. Notice the dejected lad at the stern of the boat below. The next pictures tell the tale. The trawler came to his rescue and after much talking with the Coast Guard, someone came to fetch the poor lad and the trawler was released to go on his way. Not a pretty sight to see, I must say.

We found a lovely anchorage on Banana River, just above Dragon Point, in the Melbourne area. A very active rowing club, 6 boats, probably 100 members. Some single and double scull boats as well.

A rock garden I like.

Ann and John on Seahorse. We met them on our last night in Boot Key. They came up from the Caribbean via Isla Mujeres, taking the boat for haul out and over wintering around Titusville. Thanks to them we found Peck Lake. We found ourselves hopscotching with them but now we are on our own as we continue our journey. They are from Mystic so perhaps we'll see them again.

The Haulover Canal and bridge leading us to Mosquito Lagoon. Awesome place, with many islands suitable for overnight tenting/camping

Oak Hill, the first community we came to after the Lagoon. Quite charming really.

A rookery in New Symrna Beach. As crowded as this little island was with birds, so were some of the inlets around New Smyrna and Ponce De Leon with boats and people. 

fortunately one of those lovely people helped us save my hat when a gust blew it right off my head and into the water.

Making a Move

We left with a heavy heart, knowing somehow we must return. Jack writes:

HAIRY CHAIN - KEYS DISEASE - CONCH HORN - HAWKE CHANNEL

Comes a time when you notice your chain has gotten pretty hairy; the filaments stream from the links like mermaid’s hair. The old reliable plow has been down there a while quietly doing it’s job day and night, calm and blow, while you’ve gotten a dose of Keys Disease.

And why not, one may argue - it’s still the last days of winter, early spring, and the air is delicious. The tides bring a fresh cupful of water, all clear and sweet, into the anchorage two times each day, the comings and goings of dinghies whom you’ve come to know become like old friends. The long, slow chain of life in the Keys begins to creep into your biology and the easy, love-able disease of the Keys makes you it’s latest victim.

But of course. Turquoise water, the endless trade winds, the march of floating coconuts by the boat, the dolphins passing in and out with the tides, the white egrets at rest in the dark mangroves.

But there comes a day when you know that that beard on the anchor chain is whispering a quiet admonition - go man, or never move again.

So you say - we’ll clean the chain as we bring her in - you winch it in, and I’ll scrub it as it comes. And now she’s shortened, and now it’s time to up anchor, move to the outside anchorage.

Can it be true? We’re getting underway? We ease away silently though we could have told the Cruiser’s Net (Channel 68, 09:00, every morning) that we were going. But we slide away stealthily. But Holly on the S/V ‘Another Adventure’ spies us, and calls on the radio good-bye, and the schooner ‘Yankee” calls in to thank us for the drawing, and then, from “Another Adventure’ the long mournful conch song of departure fills our ears. Usually reserved for the lament to the setting of the sun and the last light of each evening, we heard it for us. A gift, a gift worth remembering.

The Hawke Channel - the outside anchorage rolly, but of course it would be with nothing to dismay the trades save Sombrero Light. But, that makes a dawn departure easy - we’re awake already. We fall away with the wind near the nose and a swell abeam. A headsail steadies the roll a bit and the course up the Hawke slowly bends to the North. When the sun finds a bit of height you begin to watch the water turn light cobalt green, and bits of bottom sparkle 12 feet below and sargassum afloat along the hull. Now the wind comes abeam, a starboard tack, fifteen knots. The sea sparkles, the bottom shimmers, we roll along at seven knots.

Forty- five miles to Rodriguez Key the first stop north. Wind singing, the song of the conch horn still in your ears. Away, Away. The good disease of the Keys begins to fade, and the chain sleeps in it’s locker, and once again we are sailors.

Our last sunset in Marathon. We left the main anchorage, to anchor outside, in the lee of Boot Key. 

A nice anchorage overall, had a nice swim in turquoise blue water.

A Sea View

Pretty days, lovely sailing weather. Why are we leaving exactly?

a little Sargasso seaweed, scooped up some and found tiny crabs and shrimp

Miami (shudder)

Entrance to Key Biscayne. The fully loaded beach on the other side, part of a park/refuge

No Name Harbor, Key Biscayne. Very protected from the weather but not from weekenders, :) This boat was called a "Wider". The sides push out for enhanced partying for we are now in the land of serious party lovers.

At a mooring, Fort Lauderdale. Just sent a story to Harper's about my experience with a bagpiper in Bermuda, the same one John Lennon heard when he was there. That piper played the Piobrochs. This piper wasn't nearly as good playing the standard songs, but it was strange to hear him in the middle of one of the richest places in the States. The next day, we passed a boat with a piper on board. Weirdness.

A couple of the smaller yachts

ho hum another mansion

One of the many draw bridges. The catamaran going through was called TATA

We found this most delightful anchorage on Peck Lake, part of a Natural Wildlife Refuge. We rowed ashore, walked a short, sandy path through the sea grapes and seaside morning glories to the most wonderful stretch of beach and the Atlantic Ocean. We could hear the waves crashing as we slept. The rangers had marked out turtle nests, either leatherbacks and loggerheads. The Greens will come later. We will definitely return.