Reflections on Water

Where is the Water?

Double Docks

Strange Perspective

It was such a strange morning. We left Charleston before dawn last Tuesday morning after a lovely last meal to celebrate my birthday and a day for Paul to catch his breath after a whirlwind trip back to Marblehead, headed south again for Beaufort, SC (that's Bu-furt).

It was a little hairy backing down the length of the Megadock in the dock, moving into the river with bits of fog floating along both shorelines, running to pass under the Wapoo Creek swing bridge before its 6 to 9 am closure. It's always a bit disorienting to me to be navigating in the dark in the waterway, lights flashing intermittently on the water, the bridge lights and lights on shore needing to be sorted out. We are happy for a laid out course, for GPS showing the boat's position on the course and I am happy for my competent navigator at the helm.

The morning turned foggy enough that we used our horns, but we heard nothing and saw nothing of other boats until hours later. It was a perfectly calm morning, no wind and as the sun burned off the fog, we could not see even a ripple on the water. I grabbed my trusty Canon and began snapping. The reflections of shoreline features on the water were crystal clear and in fact, so sharp that the near horizon seemed to disappear.

We felt as if we were floating above the water level and the more we looked, the stranger the sensation. I don't know if you'll see what we saw through these photos, or if you just had to be there, but it was a strange morning.

We'd never been to Beaufort before and had originally planned to spend two nights there, but our revised schedule allowed us only one. We docked mid afternoon, took a long walk around this lovely old, but seemingly still vital Southern town, and decided we were far too worn out to even think about walking back to town for dinner.

We were out again early the next morning, snaking our way through the rest of South Carolina, finally entering Georgia. We had earlier plans-- maybe three or four plans ago-- to spend a night at Thunderbolt Marina outside Savannah, where hot Krispy Kremes are delivered to your boat each morning by the dock staff.

Mirabella V at Thunderbolt 

No doughnuts for us this trip, but as we approached the marina, we were riveted by an incredibly high mast with five sets of spreaders. When we were close enough, I could see the name Mirabella V on the boom of the huge sailboat docked in the marina. Again, the photo here does not do the sight justice. If you're at all interested in how the upper .05% lives, do check out the website for the largest single masted sailing vessel in the world. It's available for a week's charter with a crew of 14, for upwards of a quarter of a million-- actually, that's the 2005 price. Fuel and provisions are extra, and as Paul says, make sure you allow for the Cognac and cigars.

We anchored that night in a pretty little creek off the waterway, rose early again the next morning for a long day of some winding rivers, and some open sounds. The weather forecast was again for high winds, passing thunderstorms and high seas developing, although we thought we would be at the southern edge of the front. We had a fairly smooth day and anchored off Cumberland Island (Seashore National Park) shortly after sunset, with quiet winds and still quiet waters.

Fernandina Shrimper

By the time we went to bed, conditions began to change. We could hear the wind and we couldn't miss the motion of the boat. We decided to leave the anchor circle displayed overnight on the computer, so we could check it during the night. As the foredeck crew responsible for retrieving the anchor, I can tell you that we were well set. We needed the power of the engine to pop it out and I hauled up a load full of heavy mud on the anchor.

We had only a 45 minute run over to Fernandina Beach Harbor Marina, where we had a date with a Jacksonville boatyard to drive over and have a look at paint work we'd like to have done. Our timing was just right to see the Fernandina shrimp fleet going out for the day with their paravanes spread and their nets wide open. It was quite a sight to see one after another of them, almost two dozen total, heading out to fish for the day, birds flying around their spread nets.

Despite the high winds, I had a nice walk around Fernandina Beach, always one of my favorite stopovers, and we made time for breakfast out at our favorite local spot before leaving the next morning for Jacksonville. Jacksonville was to have been our locale for the next two months. We had planned to leave the boat there during Thanksgiving week while we traveled to Covington, LA to be with family, then have work done on Carry On and get Paul checked out at Mayo Clinic, JAX, in late December. But it seems our plans are made only to be changed and except for our Thanksgiving plans, and maybe another week in Jacksonville, we are once again up in the air. Maybe we'll get our deck work done in another yard in Jacksonville, maybe in Stuart. Maybe we'll change the Mayo appointment. Maybe seems to be the operative word.

Right now, I'm writing from Daphne, AL, near Mobile, a stopover for Paul to attend to some business and I am very thankful that we have a little distance on boat life and decisions. We had dinner last night with Paul's sister and her husband and our nephew and his wife, who is battling breast cancer with great grace and style.  I am thankful for family and friends, for our mostly good health and many blessings.