ho, the joy of sailing a small wooden boat....

 

day twenty - into Palatka

Morning comes cool, grey and with a welcome northeast wind.  The light rain that I had expected to end early last evening hung around all night.  The drizzle ends as I tuck away the sleeping gear.  Sail off anchor 7:00.  Making a pleasant 4.3 across calm water out of Puerto Rico Cove.

7:15 small patches of blue in the dark overcast.  4.3 with wind over the port quarter.  7:45 off Watson Island, 4.1.  The little bits of blue are gone, dark grey all around.  8:15 green marker "31" shows a helping tide.  

9:10 jibe off Racy Point, 3.3 wing and wing.  10:45 Bodine Point, 3.9.  Then less wind and a slow drift.  Wind returns, and a bit stronger.  Doing 5.1 on a downhill run.  11:40 jibe at Forrester Point and can see the bridge and buildings of Palatka.  Less wind on the final stretch.  Call the marina to line up a slip at the municipal dock right next to the boat ramp.

12:40 better wind on the stern as we pass beneath the bridge.  Round up, sails down at 12:50.  Motor into the docks.  The trip is done.

I check in with friend Bobby.  Have a light lunch, but save my appetite for an oyster dinner at Velchoff's.

 21.45 NM

day nineteen - a beer from the bilge

Under power 7:05. Calm night, falling asleep to the music from the Tiki Bar.

7:10 on the St. Johns Rivers.  8:00 chill wind and dark overcast arrive out of the south.  The mizzen is up already, raise the main - with single reef - and jib. Tacking downriver at 4.8.  8:55 shake out the reef, full sail.  

9:40 trying to round Popo Point and deal with the barge and tug coming up the river.  Light wind and slide out of the channel go give the tug plenty of room.

10:10 past the point, wind fills in out of the southwest, perfect wind for a run to Red Bay Point.  10:30 making 3.2 towards the bridge with the shipyard at Green Cove Springs to the south.  10:45 5.2 as a series of gusts roll through.  

11:05 under the bridge, 2.5 in less wind and the shadow of the trees on shore.  Weather is coming, looking for a place to anchor before the rain arrives.  Make a last tack for the day into Puerto Rico Cove.  Anchor down at noon.

Have lunch, relax and watch the coming line of weather on my phone app.

Rain arrives at 2:00.  Thunder at 3:00.  Heavy rain and strong winds at 3:20.

Front move through, light drizzly rain lingers as darkness comes.  Dig into the bilge for a beer to celebrate the last full day on the water.

19.25 NM

 

day eighteen - bridges

Calm night listening to the hum of the city.  Sail off anchor at 7:05.  Blue skies, south wind, sun peeking through the trees on shore.  After a couple of weeks sailing through marshes, it is strange to be sailing through the tall buildings of downtown Jacksonville.

Less than a mile from Exchange Island pass under the first bridge of the day, the one by the football stadium.  Then into the heart of downtown, pass under the second bridge with rush hour overhead at 7:35.

7:50 pass under the third bridge and through the railroad trestle.  Easy sailing with wind forward of port beam.

Tacking south as the river curves, choppy water and motor sail through swirling currents under the fourth bridge 8:25.

I'm not sure of the tides and don't bother to check, it is what it is.  The St. Johns opens wide below the city, tea stained water and very choppy.

9:50 struggling with the shifting wind.  Tacking, sometimes making ground, sometimes not.  10:15 wind shifts more to the southwest. and begin to make better progress.  11:20 5.2 on a starboard tack.  12:00 less wind and making 2.3.

Soon the wind returns, sailing at 3.8.  Early afternoon looking at anchorages.  Decide to head to Doctors Inlet.  Would like to head farther south but the next anchorage is a long ways away.  It's hot, I'm tired and need a break. 

2:40 under another bridge.  3:35 overcast moves in, gusty and choppy in the afternoon breeze. I don't remember the St. Johns being this choppy in the past.  Entrance markers to the inlet in sight.  3:55 and under power into the inlet.  Make an immediate turn to port at the little marina, tie up to top off the gas can.  

Dockmaster picks me up in a golf cart, runs me to the gas pumps.  I ask if I can stay tied up there while I run to a convenience store a few blocks away.  He tells me I am welcome to stay all night.  He points across the marina and tells me the Tiki Bar is just about to open for the evening.  Live music, full bar.

I grab some cold drinks at the store, decide to pass on the Tiki Bar and cast off.  Motor around the marina to the little bay on the far side.  Anchor down 4:50.

Enjoy a cold beer while listening to country music from the Tiki Bar across the water.

 34.67 NM

day seventeen - shoals and ships

Calm night.  Wake to the sight of a tug and a barge heading south, glad to have them go through now so I don't have to share the channel with them.  

7:05 under power.  Get behind the GRACE II, a Canadian cruiser.  They are moving very slowly for some reason, throttle up and pass them by.

Look to the stern to see another ketch up on a shoal outside of the channel.  Wonder if they tried to anchor outside the channel last evening.  Approaching low tide now, they are high and dry.

7:40 pass through the open train trestle and under the bridge, swirling waters through the narrow passage.  8:20 near green marker "21" the Amelia River widens slightly as it begin a gentle curve to the east, giving me enough room to round up and raise sail.  Wind fill in quickly and it is a nice run to the east and then south with Amelia Island to port.

A large cruising power boat comes up along side.  Not uncommon, the little yawl often gets friendly waves from captains on bigger cruisers.  In this case the captain slows down, opens the door and comes outside.  "You had a couple interesting days as Jekyll Island," he says.  I am confused, not sure what he is talking about.  Then I realize that his was one of the big cruisers tied to the face dock at Jekyll Island as I was anchored across the creek.  They must have had a time watching SPARTINA out in the wind, the waves, the cold.  "My god," his voice trails off, he shakes his head.  I laugh, the memories already distant.  And I that that from shore, it must have looked worse than it really was.  With a wave he says "The weather will get better," and powers away.

9:00 I see another boat anchored outside of the channel.  He is stuck in the mud with an anchor out, waiting for the tide to come in.  I find out quickly how close the shoals are to the channel as we go from easy sailing in four feet of water to the centerboard buried in the mud.  Raise the centerboard and rudder, hoping to drift off the shallows.  No such luck.  Drop the sails, hop out of the boat to push SPARTINA towards the channel.  Deeper water just a few yards away.  One last shove and hop back on board.  Start the out board to get out to open water.  Raise the sails and keep on sailing, no harm save for wet and muddy rubber boot and socks.

9:40 entering Nassau Sound, narrow and shallow, the last Sound we'll cross on our way south.  Follow the channel southeast towards the bridge, then come about at red marker "46" to head southwest to Sawpit Creek.  Motor sail into the creek to find wind on the nose.  Bring down the sails, will have to motor down the Nassau Cutoff.  I have sailed it a couple of times in the past, but at low tide it is shallow and narrow with no room for tacking.  

Ahead are a large cruising sailboat and a tug pushing a barge.  The tug is moving very slowly, taking up the width of the channel.  Even when the channel widens, the tug stays in the channel center and sometimes slides over to the port side.  I realize he is dodging shoals.  At one point, the tug comes to complete stop, backs up and moves over to the green (port) side.  As I follow, I can see the barge had slid up onto a shoal dead center in the channel.  

11:00 slow going into the wind and the flood tide.  Hot.  Frustrating.  Finally see the bridge at Sisters Creek ahead.

12:00 at the Sisters Creek Bridge.  Look at the charts, look at the wind.  Just noon but still several miles to the next anchorage at Exchange Island.  Decide I can make it.  12:20 full sail on the St. Johns River.  Takes me a couple of tacks to get the feel of the wind.  Finally start making ground on tacks up the river.  Slip outside the channel as a small cruise ship leaves a shipyard.  

2:20 south of Blount Island, lots of tug boats coming and going.  Sometimes the channel takes up nearly the full width of the river, keep to the edges as best I can.  See a big ship coming up the river followed by a tug with a barge.

I've got my vhf radio set to channel 13 so I can hear the ships and tugs talking.  In fact I hear them talking about me, described as "a small sailboat by the rock docks," one of the series of terminals - cruise ship, container, etc - lining the very industrial river..  I'm glad to hear they are keeping an eye out for me.

The big ship seems to be slowing.  Plenty of room and good wind, so I cut across the channel to the south side well ahead of her.  Rounding Bartram Island, the ship catch up.  I slip to the left side of the channel as the ship slows and waits for two tugs to come along side.  

As those tugs push her upriver, the tug with a barge comes from behind.  I making short tacks in the shallows just outside the channel.  As that tug/barge passes by, I come back onto the channel and make a series of tacks, this time being able to use the full width of the river.  Finally.

3:45 making 5.8 in the afternoon winds off the Trout River.  6.0 is a gust.  Tack, tack tack.  5:00 under the last bridge for the day.  Tired, pleased with the progress.

A couple more tacks as the sun is getting low.  The last run carries us around the south end of Exchange Island.  Anchor down 5:15.

 38.59 NM

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.