"When I think of all the fools I've been, it's a wonder that I've sailed this many miles." -Guy Clark

Monday, April 6, 2026

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

Sunday, April 5, 2026

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

 

Saturday, April 4, 2026

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.




 

Friday, April 3, 2026

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.




 

Thursday, April 2, 2026

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.

Tuesday, March 31, 2026

day twelve - caught by the ebb




7:15 under power out of Wallys Leg (and still wondering about that name).  Calm, peaceful night.  Two dolphins at the mouth of the creek.  7:25 sails up on the Mackay River.  It feels like slack high tide but a crab pot float shows the flood tide still running.


At red marker "232" just enough wind to sail against the tide, 0.6,  8:15 making 3.1 as the wind fills in.


Just wonderful sailing through the marsh, not another soul in sight.


The river curves south and making 2.8 but struggling against the wind and the tide.  Tacking but sometimes not gaining ground, sometimes losing ground.  Wind comes and goes.  9:25 struggling to round a point, keep loosing ground on the starboard tack.  Finally give in, crank up the outboard and motor around the point. 


The river opens up and better wind, making 3.5 against the tide.  10:45 doing 5.0 towards the bridge and wonder why I didn't have this wind an hour ago.  

11:05 under the bridge, tacking through the channel that leads to St. Simons Sound.  Nice run down past two green markers towards red marker "250."  

11:45 reach red "250" and attempt to begin a series of tacks to the southwest.  Choppy and confused water coming down from the Turtle River.  And I realize I have made a mistake.  I'm just inside the inlet and the tide has turned.  The ebb is carrying a massive from the Mackay and Turtle Rivers, connecting creeks and marshes, out through the narrow inlet.  That water, combined with the west wind, is carrying us south and east.  The ocean is not that far away, and I'm losing ground.


Under power against the ebb, sails slatting in the wind.  Get a further inside the inlet, try to sail but still can't make headway.  Sails down, under power.  I'm surprised how much ground is lost in the few minutes that it takes to bring down the sails.  

Throttle up against the tide.  12:45 pounding against the chop, pick out the entrance markers for Jekyll Creek.  1:10 in the creek.  Call ahead to Jekyll Island Marina.  


Docked at the marina 2:15.  Windy, gusty and hot.  I'm frustrated.  I should have known better that to try and sail against the west wind and ebb tide.  Sit in the shade of tree, have a glass of iced tea, try to relax.


At dinner I check the forecast.  Some rough weather is coming.  Decide to worry about it tomorrow.


21.7 NM

 


Sunday, March 29, 2026

day eleven - three more Sounds


7:20 under power on the Crescent River, no wind and low dark overcast.   An uncomfortable night with the rushing tides and noisy work on the shrimp boats across the marsh in little fishing village of Valona.  Motor down the Front River.  7:55 sails up turning onto Old Teakettle Creek, motor sailing.


8:00 red marker "158A" shows an opposing tide.  8:10 a tease from the wind but still motor sailing.  Look east across the marsh and see a couple of sailboats anchored on New Teakettle Creek, I make a note to remember the anchorage that I had never noticed before.  

10:00 out on Doboy Sound, grey, cool and very little wind.  10:15 wind arrives, along with some rain.  Sailing at 3.2 and looking for channel markers on the other side of the Sound.  


Rain leaves quickly, wind remains.  See the channel just above Commodore Island.  Channel heads due west, and that is exactly where the wind is coming from.  Round up near some old fish camps on the marsh, bring down main and jib, under power as the channel narrows and turns south.  

Motoring south with Darien and Rockdundy Rivers to starboard, navigate through one of the narrower and shallower stretches of the ICW in this area.  Follow the path, keeping Wolf Island to port, notice another possible anchorage on the Wolf River.  Take note for a future cruise.  Gusty and choppy, grey and cool now on the Mud River.


12:10, as the river turns east towards Altamaha Sound, round up and raise the jib.  Downwind reach to red marker "198" and the open sound, round up and raise the main.  Full sail tacking west into the wind, into the strong ebb tide.


At first making 1.3.  Then 1.6, ten 2.0 as I get a better feel for the wind and water.  Soon making 3.0 against the tide and I smile.


1:15 tacking at 3.3, making headway on one tack, giving up some of it on the next.  A barge and tug come around the bend in the Altamaha River, I notice that I've seen more commercial traffic this year than other of my other sails south.


The water curves to the northwest, wind forward of port beams and I get a break from tacking.  Then the channel curves southwest and more tacking as we approach Buttermilk Sound, marked as a Sound but really just a wide spot on the river.


Overcast breaking up, some blue skies and getting warmer.  The warmth comes from the wind swinging south, more tacking with a long reach across the mouth of Fridaycap Creek.  The creek marks the head of the tide, so now the tide is finally a helping tide.


Easy sailing coming onto the Mackay River.  The sun feels good, and so does that helping tide.


Just past green marker "229" turn west into Wally's Leg, an anchorage from a past trip.  There is a boat, an Island Packet, anchored there.  I hail the boat and a man comes up from below.  I ask him how much anchor rode he has out so I can anchor far enough away for when the tide turns.  He motions ahead and I see where I need to go.  I thank him.  He tells me it is good to see a boat coming in under sail.  

Anchor down 4:20.


 27.07 NM