log entry of the Natie M.

November 5, 2008 My wait continued for the new tiller pilot.  I pulled up the anchor at dawn and came into the day dock at the municipal marina where I would be allowed to stay until sunset.  Did some chores and headed back to the coffee shop to go online and once again check as to the location of my "overnight" package.  After a coffee and danish from the ladies behind the counter who where starting to treat me as a regular, I found that I could expect the tiller pilot sometime between 10:30 and 3:30.  Wrapped up my computer and spent the morning alternately cleaning the boat and checked out some of the historical sites in town.  Nice town, but I was really getting anxious to move on. At precisely 3:22 pm my package arrived, to the acclaim of the coffee shop employees.  Not wasting a minute, packed up again and made for the day dock.  Once everything was made ready, caste off the lines and moved into the harbor to calibrate the new tiller pilot.  The calibration is for the internal compass, and involves a lazy starboard turn completing two or three circles until the internal compass knows which way is north, I guess.  I'm sure it caught the attention of anyone who may have noticed the boat going in circles in front of the city marina.  It sure confused two trawlers that happened down the river, each giving me a wide berth.   Satisfied that I had familiarized the new tiller pilot with its place in the universe, I headed down the river on the ICW.  The tide was going out so I had a nice 1.5 knot plus current on my stern.   The Beaufort River opens into the Port Royal Sound and the Atlantic, or you can hang a right and continue down the zigzag of the intercoastal waterway in Georgia, as I mentioned earlier.  I had notified friends and family that I was planning on staying in the ditch, but as I drew near to the Port Royal Sound and listening to the weather for the fifth time that day, I decided that though it would be tight, insofar as the weather window, I opted to make the e run offshore.    By sunset I was 5 miles offshore and set course for St Simon or Cumberland Island.  The wind was a light but steady 5 knots out of the northwest and the 2 foot waves were a gentle roll.  The new tiller pilot was working perfectly, and at a beam reach and gentle seas, the Natie M. did a comfortable 4-5 knots.  It was cool and damp, which is better than cold and damp, indicating continuing progress in reduction in latitude.  I also found it easy to take several short naps throughout the night.  The only sticky period was around midnight crossing through the inbound tanker and boat traffic at the Savannah River inlet.  At one point I was watching some sort of motor vessel of around 200 feet heading out across my bow, coming within 100 yards or so.  As it easily cleared my course, I left the helm and went below to check the plotter to readjust my course.  When I emerged back into the cockpit a short time later I was startled to see that the boat had apparently done a U-turn!  I came about as they were way too close for comfort and got on the radio.  Asking the captain, without the usual VHF radio pleasantries, if the Captain did see the small little set of lights bobbing off their starboard beam.  He replied casually, that, yes, he did and readjusted his course heading south and quickly pulled away.    I was talking to my daughter at the time and I'm sure that she thought she was hearing first hand, the end of my trip, and possibly the end of her father.   I was relieved to clear this area after 3 hours.  It's amazing and a little nerve wracking how fast these vessels that are larger than a city block can move. November 6, 2008 The rest of the night went well, and I was able to easily maintain speed and on course and get a little sleep, as I had the Atlantic to myself most of the night.  Dawn came gentle and with a little more wind but as forecasted, this subsided around 10 am and with the flapping of the genoa and main, a noise that I find especially irritating, I turned on the motor.  Over the radio, I overheard two of the Canadian boats, whose crews I had become friends with since the Dismal Swamp.  They had left more than 36 hours earlier from Beaufort and taken the ICW down to St Simons Sound where they were preparing to go offshore to Fort Pierce Fl.  I had caught up to them in less than 24 hours so my decision to fore go ICW seemed to be right on.  Around noon I was close to the outer buoy of St Simons Sound, which is between St Simon and Jekyll Island, and with the winds swinging to the south, I decided to head in.  Once again rejoined with the ICW, I cruised by the west coast of Jekyll Island a famous vacation retreat of the obscenely wealthy.  The island is at first looking like the other barrier islands with sand dunes, tall trees, and salt marsh, but this soon gave way to large houses, resorts and an airstrip with private jets on the runway. After Jekyll, the ICW enters St Andrews Sound before dipping behind Cumberland Island, my day's destination.   The tide was working against me as I motored behind Cumberland Island and I was motoring against a stiff current.  Realizing I would not make the original anchorage, I pulled off and anchored in Shellbine Creek, within site of Cumberland Island and Kings Harbor.  Kings Harbor is where the US Navy maintains the Atlantic Nuclear Sub Fleet.   Did not see any periscopes though, just the persistent blood thirsty noseeums. November 7, 2008 Beautiful sunrise with lots or red and pink in the scattered clouds. At 13:30, I motored the rest of the way south to Brickhill River and Cumberland Island to an anchorage off a National Historic Site called Plum Orchard. Later on I came ashore and walked around the estate.  It was to say the least pretty impressive.  Set among the live oaks and palm trees, one of the Carnegie families built the place for one her children.   The shape of the house belies its size, for as you walk up from the docks where I had tied up my dinghy, you faced a large but not huge portico or front porch.  This may have been the original house, for once you rounded the corner, you saw that the house continued on, with huge columns, arched windows and at the far end, what I found later on was an indoor pool, or gymnasium.  No too shabby and a far cry from the slag piles of the Carnegie steel mills in Pittsburgh.  What was equally striking, besides the size of this "house" was that it was completely surrounded by unspoiled maritime forest.  That is to say that the building had a mowed lawn of 4 or five acres but beyond that it was saw palmetto, pines and large oaks.  The roads leading to and from the place were dirt and sand single lane roads.  As I was on foot I did not walk far from the estate.  There were some ruins of what may have been out buildings but other than that, the only sign of habitation was this huge white mansion.   One side of the place faced a small tidal pond.  I paused here to check out the view and it was a couple of minutes before I realized that the tree top of a particularly large oak had as its residents a flock of 40 or so wood storks.  I had never seen this large white bird with their large blue beaks before in the wild and it was very impressive.   I returned to the Natie M. shortly before dark and turned in early, planning on bringing my bike ashore to explore the rest of the park and island. November 8, 2008 Shortly before turning in the night before I was able to get on the phone the friends that were to be visiting the island today.  They would be taking the ferry over from the mainland around 4 pm so I dragged out my road bike and loaded it onto the dinghy.  At the dock I reassembled the bike and headed down the dirt track road, known as the Main Road, towards the park headquarters and what I was told was the ruins of another famous estate, called Dungeness which is one of the main attractions of the island.  Once I left Plum Orchard, where the Natie M. was anchored, I rode down a series of packed sand roads that were quite beautiful.  The sun was still low in the horizon and the road was surrounded by the ever present live oaks, with there huge overhanging boughs wreathed in Spanish moss.  The sunlight shining though the moss gave a silvery glow to everything.  The forest floor itself was carpeted with pine needles and small shrubs with occasional stands of saw palmetto and palm trees.  Other than the road there was no sign of any sort of human mark.  This went on for miles with the road crossing a wetland or inland pond.  After a couple of miles I came to the Stafford mansion.  The Carnegies having also built this estate along with the original estate at Dungeness.  The Stafford estate had its own grass landing strip with a little Cessna parked near the house, in case anyone wanted to go out for a quart of milk.  After 8 miles, the road suddenly ends at an ornate wrought iron gate and beyond the ruins of what must have been quite a site of the Dungeness estate.   I rode and walked around the grounds which are located on the south end of the island, seeing the ruins of the gardens, pergola and greenhouse, gymnasium, hunting lodge, workers quarters.  The museum was very interesting displaying photographs and artifacts of the early Indian residents, who where killed off by the Spaniards, who wacked on the French and finally where overwhelmed by the British.  Of course there is the civil war with the plantations that once existed there, finally ending with the brother of Andrew Carnegie, John, who having been snubbed by the wealthy old money of Jekyll Island, showed everybody off by pretty much buying the whole island next door.   The park service maintains the site and most of the island.  Pretty neat stuff.   I recommend the website. Returning to Plum Orchard and the boat pretty beat.  Riding a road bike on a sand road is a lot of work.  My friends arrived at the dock in the ferry and I made ready to join them for dinner.  Latter on over wine, oysters and shrimp got a great history lesson on the islands history and stories.  It's truly a marvelous place; just don't expect to be able to nip out for a beer or for that matter anything.  If you don't pack it in, you'll just have to do without.  The seclusion and natural setting more than makes up for any absence of modern convenience. November 9, 2008 After breakfast, I listened to the weather report.  I had planned to take advantage of favorable winds and weather forecast for Sunday through Thursday.    This window, however, was becoming a little more constricted.  I decided to head out in the afternoon and  if the conditions at the St Marys sound were ok, head out off shore again for Cape Canaveral 150 miles south.  After that point the Gulf Stream comes pretty close to shore making it difficult to make any serious progress south offshore.  I would be forced to retreat to the ICW for the rest of the trip to Fort Lauderdale and its numerous bridges.  I am hoping to get there before Thanksgiving, so I hope to eat up as much of the Florida coastline as possible before going back in.  One thing is you can't miss Florida (state motto: Never met a developer we didn't like), the lights of all the cities and towns are a big difference from the subdued lights along the Georgia coast. By 1900 I was approaching St John River, which is where the large port of Jacksonville is located.  My course would bring me through the shipping channels the tankers and container ships use to approach the port.  The night was beautiful, stars a bright ¾ moon making silver shadows on the small waves.  A steady 5-10 knots blew out of the W-NW and I was making 4-5 knots.  This is also a major port, like Savannah, but as I approached I could only see two oil tankers waiting for pilots.  Except for a close pass by an outgoing car carrier, my passage of the St John River was uneventful.  I say this of course, meaning that I didn't hit anything bigger than me.  The car carrier in question came within 100 yards or so.  These vessels resemble a large floating box, usually used to bring foreign made cars to the states.  Each can hold a couple of thousand cars and can be 80 feet tall and they can easily do 15 knots.   The captain either didn't see me or didn't think it necessary to radio and it passed almost silently by, this giant dark floating car park, and disappeared off into the east, only the 3 foot waves of its wake behind. November 10, 2008  30o 14.65 N                81o 13.821' W After midnight, the moon lit up the sky and I could see a set of sails a couple of miles to landward.  I hailed them on the radio and had a chat with the captain.  The catamaran "Meant to Be" was heading to St Augustine.  When offshore I try and let another boat, preferably on the same course, that you are out there.  You meet some great people, sort of like a random phone call in the middle of the night and having a conversation with whoever picks up.  The wind was freshening and my speed was picking up, from the 3-4 in calm seas to edging past 5 knots with some following seas of 2-3 feet.  I was glad to make the time for I did not want to come into either the Cape or another lesser inlet in the middle of the night.  By morning light, the wind was out of the N-NE and the waves were getting bigger.  This would not be a bad thing, except that, the Natie M. with its 31 foot length loves to surf, and surfing means a lot of tiller work.  I was doing over 5 knots and still had 50 miles to go to the inlet I had chosen.  Ponce de Leon Inlet is just north of Cape Canaveral.  The waves were the impetus for the decision to call it for the last offshore leg of the trip to Florida.  That and the fact I had run out of the water.   Should have checked the tank and now the dishes where piling up in my little galley sink.  By 1400 I was closing in on the inlet.  It has a long stone and concrete jetty that I could see the waves crashing sending spray high into the air.  It also has a tall red lighthouse that was unique in its markings.  But no time to sightsee, though I did get a shot of the entrance.  The currents were all over the place though it was close to high tide, and I have to swing the helm from one side to the other to get in behind the jetty.  Once there the waves disappeared and with a stiff  back current, shot into the Ponce inlet.  The yawl that I had seen paralleling my course was just ahead of me and I followed it in.  With the genoa stowed and just the main still up I motored in and back into the ICW.   I noticed that the yawl was coming close to a marker that my charts noted was badly shoaled.  I radioed and advised and they gave it a wide berth.  Good karma for me, cause it was not 15 minutes later that while attempting yet another attempt at communication with a pair of dolphin that appeared that I left the channel and rode up onto a sand bar.  Attempts to get me off the thing where ineffectual and with the current and wind working against me it was looking to be a serious grounding.   I did not know this but the yawl that I had radioed earlier observed the whole thing and radioed and offer to dinghy out my anchor to prevent me from further riding up onto the bar.  I had in the meantime, jumped overboard into the 3 foot waters and was trying to shove the Natie M off the bar, with minimal success.  Anyway, with the assistance of the yawls captain, we were able to finally get her off, all the while the dolphins I had observed earlier, swimming playfully around the boat, apparently enjoying the spectical.  It was dark when both the Lutia and Natie M.  tied up to the New Smyrna Bch docks for the night.  I walked into town and got a sandwich and beer at Mahoney's, which featured movie night.  Garth's World was funny?  Got to get to know the crew of the Lutia a little better.  Turns out the captain, Patty, was heading down to the Bahamas and was a in between jobs Dolphin scientist, which of course is one of those way cool jobs.  I related my dolphin epiphany I wrote about earlier and she told me that, although I was a great experience, the tail slapping was either the dolphin version of giving me the finger (or tail as in this case) or  they could very well have been getting amusement out of the insane biped dancing and making noise on the bow.   I prefer the latter explanation. Tomorrow I head down the ICW south.