day sixteen - Cumberland Island and crossing into Florida

Cold night, and unexpectedly rough.  Wind and waves.  Comfortable layered up in the sleeping bag.

31° at sunrise.  Make hot tea with the jet boil.  Tuck away sleeping gear and tie duffels in place, a bit of a workout under the boom tent that helps me warm up.  Thermals, wool sweater and drysuit.  Sail off anchor at 7:50 mizzen and jib.  Out on Jekyll Creek raise the main, full sail with the last of the ebb, making 4.2.

8:15 sail onto Jekyll Sound wing and wing, comfortable sailing.  8:25 jibe at the red marker that marks the shoals in the inlet, one that must have been damaged in a storm as it is only the red drum floating on the surface of the water with no structure above.  Turn to the southwest.

8:50 sailing up St. Andrew Sound with the beginnings of a helpful flood tide.  4.1 with wind aft of starboard beam.  Then 5.1 in a gust.  Sail into the protected waters of the East River, 5.0 with wind over the starboard quarter.  Great sailing and feels so good.  

10:00 in the Cumberland River, lighter wind and motor sailing.  10:30 green marker "43" shows the helping tide.  More wind and sailing.  

11:15 at the Dividings, fluky wind sailing on the Cumberland River with just a narrow strip of marsh separating it from the East River.  12:00 making 2.6 at red marker "68."  Warming up and stripping off the dry suit.

Lots of dolphin around, very playful, as we sail on to the top of Cumberland Sound.  I'm looking for green marker "79," the last green marker that will be to port for a while as markers switch sides just above Kings Bay.  Green markers now to starboard, red to port on the channel leading to St. Marys river entrance.  

Off Kings Bay a security boat for the submarine base keeps on eye on me.  1:15 the wind has swung to the south east, making 3.4.  1:05 cross the state line into Florida.  2:35 struggling with the wind and tide, motor sailing inside St. Marys Inlet.  3:00 sailing at 3.6, and the markers have switched sides again, red to starboard and green to port.  

4:00 on the Amelia River, making 2.8 against the ebb tide.  Follow the curve of the river and sail through the boats in the mooring field off Fernandina Beach.  Exchange greetings with a young woman reading a book in the cockpit of her sailboat out of Belfast, Maine.  South of Fernandina Beach the river curves west and then south.  A couple short tacks and fall off into the creek just above Piney Island.  Anchor down 4:30. 

36.72 NM

 

day fifteen - go, don't go

Cold, cold, windy night.  Freezing temperatures at dawn.  My app tells me it is 31°.  An email from Webb tells me the "feels like" temperature is 17°.

Hardest part is climbing out of the sleeping bag.  Light the Jetboil to make hot chocolate.  Put another layer on.  Tuck away sleeping gear.  Check Navionics to confirm we have not dragged anchor.  We have not.

Wind still howling.  Clear skies and waiting on the sun.  Forecast says wind moderating in a couple of hours.  Hope to sail at 9:30 or 10:00.

Put on the drysuit.  Feeling comfortable now.  Look over the charts on my phone.  Check the weather apps.  Small craft warning extended.  Freeze advisory too.  With the northeast wind, figure I can sail downwind to the shoals at the inlet, then turn southwest on a beam reach, probably under just mizzen and jib, on the Cumberland River.

10:00, sleeping gear tucked away, begin taking down the boom tent.  Going over the planned sail in my head, I begin to wonder about the sea state in the inlet.  The strong northeast wind persist.  Checking the tide charts I see that it will be a flood tide.  A massive amount of water, enough to feed into the Cumberland, Satilla and Little Satilla Rivers, floods in through the inlet.  That much water meeting strong wind from the opposite direction.  How rough could it be?  

If it is too rough, where do I go for protection?  At that moment, I realize I don't have an "out."  When I think about pushing the limits in challenging weather, I always want an "out," a place to change the plan, seek shelter, hide from the wind and waves.  Looking at the charts, there is no such place. And I think about the extended small craft warming.  In my head I can hear my friend Curt talking about small craft warnings, saying "my friend, you are in a small craft."  

I begin putting the tent back in place.  I am not going sailing today.

Boom tent back up, warm in my many layers and dry suit, I relax.  I feel good about my decision.  I even feel better about it as the wind builds even more late morning.  

Relax, read, check the news.  Glad for my solar panel to charge my phone so I can keep in touch with friends and family. Drift into that state where I am not quite awake, not quite asleep.  Enjoy the day.

 

day fourteen - gale winds, freezing temperatures

A little rain overnight, not much.  The wind arrives at 8:00 and I am very glad I had left the dock.  My weather app tells me of two warnings.  I had known about the gale warnings.  Now there is a freeze warning.  

Breakfast.  Read.  Relax.  The wind is steady out of the northwest, with blasts thrown in now and then.  There is a local sailboat anchored about fifty yards to the south.  I get glimpses of it has SPARTINA swings to port in the peak winds.

I am surprisingly comfortable on board.  Check in with the family, tell them that I am safe and secure.  Experiment a little with the GoPro, try to see if I can capture the feeling on the little yawl.  The camera swings a bit in the peak of the boom tent and kinda exaggerates the motion, but yeah, it kind of captures the moment.  

I nap a bit, catch up on the news.  Glancing to port, I notice I no longer have a view of the sailboat anchored nearby.  My anchor is dragging.  I turn on the gps to confirm.  

And I turn on tracking on Navionics and see the same thing.  It is early afternoon and we are moving slowly, steadily to the southeast.  By nightfall, we could be in the shipping channel.  And not long after that, on the beach on Jekyll Island.

I go forward and unhook the boom tent so I can access the anchor rode on the starboard side.  I also unhook the tent port aft so I can steer with the outboard.  Get the outboard running, go forward and haul in the anchor.  It is a lot of work against the wind and the waves.  Finally get it in, move back to the outboard and power forward back to where I had originally anchored, then move a little closer to the marsh.  

I set the anchor and we seem to be doing fine.  As a precaution, I use a dock line to add 20 feet to the anchor rode.  We are now in about four feet of water with 70 feet of anchor rode.  I check the gps, I check Navionics.  The anchor is holding.

I fix dinner.  Layer on a couple sets of thermals, the wool sweater and two sets of socks.  Slip into the sleeping bag as darkness fall.

 

day thirteen - weather warning

Morning comes with fog and weather warnings.  I am not sure what to do.  Forecast calls for winds gusting into the 30s tomorrow morning out of the northwest.  The last cold front of the winter is headed our way.  My spot on the face dock - all the marina slips are full - in untenable.  With strong winds out of the northwest I know I won't be able to sleep on SPARTINA.  But I am more concerned about damage to the boat itself.  That much wind against the face dock could easily damage the hull.

I've got a few more hours to make a decision, distract myself with chores.  A shower.  Feels good but the shower stalls seems to be rocking back and forth.  Carry up a kit a six meals and break it up into individual gallon bags.

Check out a golf cart, drive down to St. Andrews Beach to visit the Wanderer Memorial Trail, an art installation by my friend Curt about a slave ship that arrived in the area in 1858.  I am pleased to message him that his art is still in excellent condition.

At lunch I begin seriously thinking about what I need to do.  Strong southwest winds today, I can't make it to the anchorages at Cumberland Island.   And the ebb tide is running in St. Simon Sound, I can't make it to the marina at Brunswick.  

I take take a bike and ride the path along the oceanfront.  Beautiful, but all I can do is think about shelter.

I conclude that my only choice is to leave the marina, anchor across Jekyll Creek in the anchorage marked in Navionics as "Jekyll Creek - 2."  It is not great protection from the wind, nothing but low lying marsh to the west.  The wind could be howling.  But at least I won't be battered against the face dock.

I find Chris, the dock master, tell him about my situation.  Getting off the dock as it is will be difficult enough.  Strong southwest winds, plus large boats tied up both fore and aft of SPARTINA.  Chris comes down to the dock with two dock hands and a large fender.  The dock hands handle the lines, Chris has the fender up at the bow to keep SPARTINA off the dock.  I use the outboard to pull the stern away from the dock, pivoting until I am nearly perpendicular to the dock.  Then back away.  

I wave to Chris and the dock hands, Chris shouts something but I can't hear him over the outboard.  I turn SPARTINA, cross the channel and round a shoal.  Anchor down.  Deflate the yellow fender that has taken a beating the last day or so.  Set up the boom tent.  Boil water for a freeze dried meal.  Set up the sleeping gear.  And wonder about tomorrow's weather.