S/V AMICUS

to Oriental, NC

May 27-to Spooner Creek, NC

Thanks to Skipper Bob's guidebook, we pulled into a shallow, little-used lagoon which was surrounded by condos and homes, each with its private dock. It was Memorial Day weekend and we felt a little bit like we were crashing a backyard party as we watched the families get together and pile onto jetskis. But we were there for one purpose only. A short dinghy ride and 3 blocks away there was an endless strip mall, with Wal-mart, Lowes, and other massive stores that we curse and use at the same time. We got many items we've been missing for months, and Mark could prepare for the upcoming haulout. Lamar got a new snorkel (belated, I know) and Cedar got a flashlight for caving (also belated). We spent $300 and returned to the boat loaded down. We spent the rest of the afternoon playing with our new toys while Mark took another trip in. It was hot and we showered freely in the cockpit. We are so used to people watching us go about our daily business we hardly notice anymore.

May 28-to Oriental, NC

At long last, we did one last hot stretch. The palm trees are gone and big deciduous trees have appeared, much to our delight. Shade! We arrived in Oriental by early afternoon and immediately grownups took turns napping while the girls played quietly. By late afternoon we were ready to head into town, a quick dinghy ride away.

This town will be our home for a week so we were curious. All the good things we'd heard were true-Oriental is friendly, quiet, and very boat-oriented. The smell of fish is distinct but not overpowering. The town is neither on the down-and-out, nor overtaken by mansions.

In the evening a small powerboat ran aground right by the dinghy dock and Mark radioed to them, offering to bring over a kedge anchor. They accepted gratefully and he swung the anchor in the dinghy, rowed over, and showed them what to do. Mark is a gifted rescuer-not only is he skillful and reassuring, he has no sign of the condescension that can tarnish the attitude of the rescuer. This is borne from the humble knowledge that if he wasn't in this pickle yesterday, he could be in it tomorrow. In this case, we didn't have to remember very far back to recall being grounded and ignored in the middle of a channel.

He also assumes that the problem can be fixed-and that one must continue to work until it is! I think he surprised the skipper on this power boat (who was standing helplessly by the controls) when he hopped into the water to push. In a minute he too was in the water. Eventually they got another power boat involved, and got off.

May 29-Oriental

The week promised to be HOT. It was too hot to play at the playground, too hot to do much of anything but dread the upcoming week with the boat hauled out and no breeze to cool us off. In the afternoon we pulled up the anchor and went outside of town and anchored in the Neuse River so that Lamar could try out her her new snorkel and we could all cool off in the water. Unfortunately the water was too brown to see anything-but it was also brackish, not nearly as salty as the Bahamas. The girls could swallow a little without gagging. We stayed out there to enjoy the space and sense of privacy.

With supper simmering on the stove, we pulled up the anchor and motored into a narrow channel. With only one "oops" 180 degree turn in a narrow harbor, we found the travelift (haulout machine) and parked in there for the night, to be first in line the next morning. Immediately we were greeted by a couple of boaters, interested in our story and eager to share the benefits of the boatyard and their own vehicles and bikes. How friendly!

May 30-Oriental

Our favorable impressions were confirmed the next morning when the Sailcraft boatyard guy-in-charge got us out of the water. He was accommodating and friendly. He told us about the Martins, our sailing family heroes from their book "Into the Light," who lived here for over a year and worked for him a decade ago. Best of all, there was a pool right there. I no longer had to worry about the sweltering heat!

We watched our home get lifted from the water, looking like it had been well used in the past year. Lots of people were interested in our life on board, and our slimy boat was the proof of our accomplishment. The girls, after the initial excitement of seeing their home rise into the air, got impatient to be aboard again. Then we picked up our mail, and were overwhelmed with connections we'd been missing for so many months. We read two "Blue Water Sailing" magazines with our articles in them, and a bunch of pictures (all 2 years old, of Lake Superior sailing). Wow! What a cool life this is! This haulout has given us the unexpected chance to rest on our laurels. Part of me wanted to tell Mark to sandblast the bottom, we're heading out again! Then I read a huge packet of "Amicus" material (not our boat, but the organization-dedicated to integrating offenders back to community-that I used to work for, and hope to work for again) and was inspired again by what can be accomplished when one decides to stay put and work for the betterment of the human race. Which way to go? It's hard to know how to respond to our dreams! We know from hard experience that big ideas need reigning in as well as nurturing.

So now as I write, Mark is sanding the hull and we will soon head down to the pool once again for relief from the heat. Life is good; we have only to choose from many good paths.

May 31

Two days into living "on the hard" have been very enjoyable and not at all the endurance test I'd feared. The only flaw is that Mark is either working hard in the hot sun with toxic sand and fumes, or lying up on the settee waiting for paint to dry and enduring splitting headaches. This is a downer! Plus strange to have two different lives for the first time in a year. The girls and I have spent most of our hours at the pool, and have met two new sailing families! One, with two pre-teen daughters, have lived on their boat, coasted up and down the coast in the summertime, and otherwise live in Oriental while the dad builds a house. The girls are homeschooled. The other, originally from England with one daughter, have been up and down the coast and into the Caribbean over the past 7 years. Now they are working on the boat and their daughter goes to school here. Both families have reminded me of how many different ways there are to go about merging a watery life with a terra firma one. As always, it takes only seconds for the kids to play with each other, and minutes for us moms to connect. Cedar is working on the crawl and diving to the bottom to pick up things. Lamar simply dives in and dog-paddles, head down, to the nearest assistant, barely looking up to gasp and dive down again. If we don't watch sharp, she will head out to the deep end on her own. Having older girls around to play with has increased their enjoyment exponentially; it's almost impossible to get them out.

Antics on the ICW

May 16, Beaufort, SC

Not to be confused with Beaufort, NC, we motored into Beaufort, SC (Bew-fort) in the late morning. The bridge didn't open until 2:00 so we anchored for four hours and visited one of the best playgrounds ever-a nautical theme, with "sails" shading the benches for supervising adults. Today, and frequently, I was thinking about both the money and the priorities that it takes to make a really nice playground.

Just getting our lifestyle up to US standards has made every shopping trip a series of treats. New toothbrushes, new crayons. New books every chance we get, til our shelves are full again. Amazing how high is our standard of living, and right now we have the unique opportunity to choose it consciously-or not. I am eternally grateful for the abundance of books.

By evening we were ready to anchor in a beautiful spot just off the ICW. Once again, the weather has been very pleasant, with a chill in the evenings. Now if only we could get the N out of the wind!

May 17, ICW

All I have to record this day is our log, which gives our mileage at the beginning and at the end. I remember two anchorages, but that's about it. Not much happened, I guess.

May 18-Charleston, SC

Woke up to thick clouds/fog, which hung around for so long and smelled so strongly of campfire that we decided it was mostly smoke from the front-page-news wildfires west of here. We got a downpour too. We arrived in Charleston by early afternoon and soon dinghied to the dock to surprise our friends on "Grace" whom we hadn't seen since Long Island, Bahamas. Our first sailing friends with kids since Easter! In seconds Cedar and Finn were racing up and down the dock in some private enterprise which involved screeching, holding hands, and scraping barnacles off the pilings, while Lamar (displaced?) sat in my arms. We spent the afternoon finding out how to see Charleston in a day. It was thick and muggy, and cool, and my brain kept remembering scenes from my childhood backpacking trips in Wyoming due to the strong campfire smell. Charleston has the Visitors Center to end all Visitor Centers, which was a sign of things to come. A beautiful city, fully equipped to occupy all interested travelers.

In the evening it poured some more, and it was cozy inside, dark and gloomy outside. We haven't had to cozy up inside for so long!

May 17-Charleston, SC

We woke up to cool brisk NE winds, and a gorgeous day. A perfect day to see Charleston.

With "Grace" we headed downtown on a marina shuttle. First we visited the "Tall Ships" that were docked downtown. Massive 3-masted schooners from all over the world. I boarded one from India, a Navy training vessel. The sailors were all friendly and polite and told me all about what it was like to sail from India. The most difficult sailing conditions they encountered were off the coast of Florida.

Next we went to the "Confederate Museum" hoping to learn about the Civil War. But it turned out to be a room full of artifacts kept carefully by the Daughters of the Confederacy. We moved on. The girls were losing it so we lunched in a big park with many memorials. This city is full of beautiful homes, gardens, churches, memorials, and museums. Then we went to the Charleston Museum. Lamar slept in the cloth backpack while we wandered through. Cedar was patient as we were very slow. They had a great antebellum era section and a great kids section. We walked back afterwards, with tired feet and shoulders. Cedar's fatigue did not stop her from racing up and down the docks playing the aforementioned secret game with Finn the instant we arrived at their boat.

In the evening a dinghy roared up with an unknown family aboard! They are from Minneapolis, and have been living in the Charleston harbor for over a year with their two little boys, Dad schooling and Mom working. When he gets his nursing license they can head south. What a family! Too bad we didn't meet them sooner.

May 20-out of Charleston

With winds promising to clock to the west, we had high hopes for an overnighter. In the morning they were still east of north, and strong, so we decided to motor up one more day and then head out that evening or the next morning, when things calmed down. But a mile or so into the waterway, the throttle knob suddenly stopped working. (This is a long story-it had been feeling looser, less responsive, for months. Once Mark tightened something below, and it seemed to help. But we still had to hold it manually in place (or with a piece of string) above 15 RPMs.) Mark experimented with it, up and down, while we drifted down into a closed bridge. He managed to hold us back until the bridge opened. He then went below and opened up the engine and held the throttle down there while I steered and the cabin became a fast disaster, girls hungry and tired, full rattling engine blasting into the messy cabin. We went about 5 miles and were able to anchor, engine racing in forward and reverse since Mark couldn't be below to throttle down. Yikes.

After emptying out the back hatch and crawling upside down inside, he pulled out the throttle cable, certain it had busted. But when we tested it in the cabin it was fine. Mystified, he went over every inch of the throttle system and gasped when he suddenly found the problem, a loose nut. Suddenly he saw how the whole system worked and why the nut made the throttle act as it did. He has not exactly enjoyed this process of becoming a diesel mechanic, but here is another part of the engine that he now understands and can fix. And the throttle now works better than it has in months.

Mark put the engine, the cabin, and the back hatch back together and we were off by 1:00. But getting to another inlet by sunset was now out of the question. We motored til dusk and then enjoyed another beautiful secluded anchorage.

May 21-more, more ICW

Now with a landfall beyond Cape Fear out of the question, we couldn't leave the inlet until midafternoon. We set out at noon and motored in near-calm until 3:00 when 15-20 knots from the southwest-the gradient winds-hit us in about five minutes. We doused the jib and turned into the big river that is the inlet to the ocean. We had about 10 miles to get out to the last buoy. The first mile was okay but then the channel turned still more south and the SW wind came right up at us. The tide was going out and it made for that wind-opposing-tide situation that we have learned to avoid. The chop was 3-4 feet of steep waves, stopping us cold in the water other than the current. Cedar did not help by having a huge mysterious (Dramamine-induced?) temper tantrum. When the bow started getting buried and Mark started to lose steerage, we reluctantly turned around. It was a very strange sensation because as soon as we were turned the motion became smooth and downwind, but because we were now against the current we were only going three knots over the ground. We were flying over the water though, at least six knots.

For the next fifteen miles and four hours we fought our way upstream in a wide chaotic channel. A fishing skiff caught fire about 1 mile ahead of us but three powerboats got there and fished the people out of the water long before we were on the scene.

We pulled in at dusk again, frustrated and discouraged. The winds will be good for another 24 hours or so but we have no way to access them. Things happen for a reason, so for some reason we were not meant to get out there this time. Once again, we are not in control of the situation and trying to keep a decent perspective. Seems like sometimes all one can do is stick with it, endure. It didn't help to find out that we will likely be fighting the tidal current most of the day tomorrow.

May 22, ICW

Not much to report this day. We were against the current all day. The winds were flukey and didn't really help. Ah well. I learned a big lesson by trying to read while steering; I very nearly hit a marker that I never saw until we were going by it-on the wrong side-and bumping the bottom.

Anyway, we made it. Tomorrow's another day.

May 23, into North Carolina

Mark got us going super-early because the evening before we'd bumped bottom for about ½ an hour (in a place where he and Ryan had easily anchored last fall. Tides must be very strong right now). He hoped to get out before low tide which was just before 7:00. But about 10 feet out of the channel, into the mud we go again. (The 5th? time on this northward journey?) Knowing that the tide was falling fast, Mark acted quickly. You'd have thought our life depended on it as he grabbed the kedge anchor, attached a line, and threw it out. He tried to reel it in half dozen times while I gunned the engine, but the anchor never held. Even I was surprised when he then jumped in the water! "What are you going to do?" I asked stupidly. (Remember, it was still very early.) "Push." He actually managed to rock the boat. Then he swam out the kedge anchor one more time. No luck. By this time the girls had heard the racket and woken thoroughly up. We turned off the engine and started our day. The no-see-ums were back.

At 7:30, breakfast eaten and parents calmer, the water was starting to come in. We spun around, set the kedge anchor, tried some more. When a big power boat went by and we rocked in the wake, we got off.

We are reviving a bit from the last few depressing days. It was a beautiful morning and the winds were back NE. Lamar dropped her stuffed horse into the water right under a highway bridge. From inside I heard an urgent toddler scream and saw Mark instantly let the jib fly. You can bet I hopped on deck. Hero Daddy turned around and I grabbed the horse with the bucket.

Cedar is on her fifth day with the same outfit. Clothing has become such an issue that we have decided to leave it up to her. On cold mornings she cuddles in a blanket to avoid putting on something warmer. She even opted not to put her outfit in the wash, or change after taking a solar shower. She does care about cleanliness so we'll just see how long this goes on. I am busy practicing a new skill--keeping my mouth shut--knowing that as long as she has something to prove, she will prove it. Grandma Gordon, your Christmas shorts are getting some good use!

May 9-15

May 9-Still at Fernandina Beach

This low did end up stalling, sort of, and acquiring a Tropical Storm name, Andrea. During the day all "tracks" pointed towards landfall right on top of us tonight or tomorrow. This was not as big a deal as might seem-predictions were for 35 knots at most onshore. It's been kind of interesting to watch and experience the weather on the outskirts of a major swirling Low, as we have been doing for the last five days. We get everything-sun, storms, layer upon layer of all kinds of clouds, and always the wind-except for short periods of calm. Weird. We don't really have forecasts any more, just tracking of the storm. All winds depend on what she will do, and the truth is, no one really knows what she will do! When/if she reaches land, then we will be able to relax.

So we kicked around town for another day, grateful still for our spot on the edge of the dock-maximum viewing, minimum stress. We are itchy to get going, as usual. Even when this low dissipates there are several more on the way, so our hope of sailing offshore to Charleston is looking unlikely. So much for that settled May weather we had heard about! We are reduced to hoping merely that the Intercoastal stops looking so angry; there were actually whitecaps out there today.

May 10-still in Fernandina Beach

So Andrea remained indeterminate-stalling, losing Storm status, but still hanging around. All right, this was getting old. Our month's budget was disappearing in marina fees. The last day was perhaps the windiest of all, with full-on breakers on the Intercoastal. We bit the $$$ bullet and walked to a local History museum, which included a guided tour. Miraculously the girls lasted through the historic tour with its 5-century review of northern Florida. Eight flags have flown here since the first Europeans came in the 1500s.

In the afternoon our next door neighbor on the dock stopped by. "We have a problem, we have too much ice cream. Would you be able to get rid of it for us?" We graciously accepted and after supper spent the evening in a trawler with a very nice couple who were fast friends with the girls. For Mark and I it was fun to talk to other adults! They took their (now grown) children to France for a year. They assured us that kids remember way more than you'd think, and that for their oldest, who was 4-5 when they were there, it was a life-defining year (she is now a French teacher). How very encouraging!

By late evening the wind was down to a breeze for the first time in 5 days.

May 11-to Georgia marshes

The wind was blowing 15 knots out of the NE, dead on the nose, in the morning. But the chop in the Intercoastal looked downright benign and we were out like a shot, along with about a dozen other boats. I felt like a biker in a triathlon-starting before the rest, but being passed the whole time. It was several hours before we stopped being passed by power cruisers every few minutes.

Soon we were in Georgia-Good-bye Florida! We pushed against tidal currents almost all day and could barely sail. But at least we were getting somewhere. We had to cross several inlets, one of which was wide and current-ridden and full of confused swells. The water was thick and brown, adding to the excitement. It was a ride until we turned around a buoy and threw up the jib, and flew downwind, down current, from 3 knots to 7.

Quickly we confirmed everything we'd heard about Georgia-remote, buggy, and marshy. You'd see boats up a river, or around a bend, and the mast would stick up out the grass. It looked like we were all traveling on grasslands. Everything lies very low. It's quietly picturesque, and a welcome change. To anchor, we merely went until suppertime and then pulled into a little river and dropped the hook a hundred feet off the channel.

We had been traveling parallel to another ketch for several days, with a lone, young guy (Craig, I think) aboard. He anchored right beside us, and we invited him over for supper. He had just bought his boat and was taking it to Savannah. The girls immediately took over the conversation that he and Mark kept trying to have, showing him their dolls, dragging him down to the v-berth. I think we're kind of lonely!

That night we gloated as the dusk descended, with no wind, and our new no-see-um netting securely covering every porthole and hatch. That is, until Mark in the v-berth, mid-story-telling, watched a no-see-um easily pop right through the tiny mesh! "Crushed" is a mild term for what I felt as we raced about: up with the bug tent, what do we do about the portholes? (we decided on a double layer of the new mesh-at least make them work for our blood!) Cedar and Lamar enjoyed the drama, and the extra time sitting on the settee, muttering "Darn! Darn!" while Mark set up the bug tent. I managed to feel miserable just expecting the worst-though in the end, it wasn't a bad night. Too cool for the bugs to get too terrible.

May 12-Georgia

Our plans for a dawn departure were stymied by the one thing that can stop you cold in the Intercoastal-fog. Dead calm, thick fog, and soaking wet with dew. We finally got off around 9:00 when the sun pierced through.

It's a good thing we already ate our anniversary dinner because here was the actual day and we motored all day with no civilization in sight. However the girls and I made chocolate-chip cake, and we had Tamale Pie for supper. The meal was marred only by the splayed-out horsefly remains in the corner of the cake when I pulled it out of the oven. (Did I mention the horseflies are terrible during the day?)

Cedar has been a champ these long days on the boat. She gets a project going-setting up house on the cabintop is still the favorite, with her dolls, a snack, and Little House-and is gone for hours. Lamar has been uncharacteristically fussy, and it took us forever to figure out why. Finally I took a look inside her mouth-aha! Four molars coming in! What with her snorkeling, writing her letters, singing with bluegrass bands, it's hard to remember she's technically still a toddler. Can it be that some kids her age are still in highchairs, cribs, diapers? We started giving her Tylenol, with mixed results.

Craig anchored right beside us again, so we had him over for dinner again. He was grateful to be relieved of his diet of Fritos. It was a beautiful evening, still breezy so no bugs. He said that there were alligators all over the place that morning! Funny we don't even know what to look for! But you can guess we will be looking after this.

May 13-to Turner Creek, GA

An easy 20 miles turned into a long slog as the current was against us the whole way. It was HOT-in the high 80s, humid, and windless. We pulled into Turner Creek right at noon, just as the engine sputtered and died! Mark dashed to the front and dropped the anchor, which left us in the middle of the channel-safe but conspicuous. I was just beginning to grasp all the implications of this, thinking from the cockpit, "I'm so glad we are not in the gulf stream with yet another engine problem…" when Mark popped up looking sheepish. Our first tank had run out of fuel. He switched tanks and pulled up the anchor, and we were off-and the engine sputtered again. Drop the anchor, bleed the lines. Mark was sweating bullets, pulling up heavy chain and working deep in the hot engine. The girls as usual were completely unperturbed by this change of circumstance and were only thrilled to be allowed to put their fishing lines in the water without danger of fouling the propeller. After Mark bled the lines twice, and the engine still sputtered, he let me move in for a minute and grab lunch for the girls. This time the engine revved up just fine, and he pulled up the anchor again. We motored into the channel, and I was closely watching the depthsounder, which went from 20 feet to 4 in the middle of the channel. Whoa! But it was too late, and we were aground in thick mud, with no idea which way to go. Mark hopped in the dinghy and poked an oar in all around, determining that we simply needed to get over to the left a few feet. He dropped a kedge anchor in, returned to Amicus, and began pulling the anchor rode in. Amicus swung grudgingly around, and soon was free. All this time we'd been passed by numerous skiffs and powerboats and no one even gave us a wave, let alone an offer of help, making us feel even more ridiculous-unless of course we were invisible. Just as we got free a sailboat finally came in, so we followed it a mile up the river and anchored. Ahhh…

In the baking heat we had a late lunch and naps. Mark sacked out, overheated and worn out. Anchoring is heavy, back-breaking work and he'd done it about four times that day. But it wasn't the last. After Lamar woke up we headed out in the dinghy to see the town. We saw a police skiff coming and hightailed it back to Amicus to pick up our adult lifejackets. They didn't mention the lifejackets but did ask us to move further to the side of the channel. And since we were right there, we could hardly dinghy away, promising to do it later. So we got back in Amicus and re-anchored further downstream. Then, back in the dinghy and heading to town-just as a dark-looking series of clouds and rain started looking very close and in fact came right over us as we turned tail and headed back to Amicus once again, now in a cool NE blast of wind. We made it back before the downpour and had pizza for dinner. The cabin was cool and we were tired.

May 14-Savannah, Georgia

We took a bus to downtown Savannah. It was a cheap easy ride and a great day. I was dying to indulge all my intense memories from reading "Gone with the Wind" and see the remains of a city that burnt to the ground. I learned on a historic tour that my memory is faulty and while Atlanta burned to the ground, Sherman decided that Savannah was too lovely to burn. Savannians were so grateful to him that they gave him a set of silver when he left.

Savannah is indeed beautiful, and full of history. To me there is a dark undertone to it, an element of studying the "scene of the crime," given that this was the center of slavery, Cotton was King. Millions of Africans set their first foot in America on one of the many squares (now parks) downtown, to be sold. There was too much to take in in a day, but our cursory search determined that while colonial Savannah is a point of great pride, pre-Civil War Savannah is more difficult to learn about, despite the fact that in terms of wealth, culture, influence, it was their time of greatest prosperity. I wonder if they have yet to figure out how to share the underside.

There was a huge grocery store right beside our anchorage so we stocked up on the way home. Both girls crashed on the busride home, unfortunately, and were up until all hours.

May 15-to South Carolina

In the morning Cedar stayed home with Mark who was changing the oil while Lamar and I checked out the public library. It was closed so we went next door to a preschool. I was shocked (though I don't know why) to see my gregarious little girl turn so shy she couldn't even speak. Thumb in mouth, she clung to me and watched the 2, 3 and 4 yr. olds in their classrooms. Even the 4 yr. olds seemed younger than Cedar and I wondered again at what a change this is going to be for Cedar, and how she will do with school.

We motored out of Turner Creek at lunchtime and in mid-afternoon, motoring into an extremely fast tidal current at low tide at a narrow cut, we suddenly swirled sideways and I knew instantly we were aground. Just then a guy came on the radio to warn Mark to ignore the red buoy-too late. Two SeaTow skiffs (free towing for members, which we are) were right there…waiting? They say they were doing a shift change, but I don't know! To his credit the guy did try to warn Mark over the radio. Cedar and Lamar were busy Not Napping inside but instead singing "The Old Gray Mare" at the top of their lungs. They didn't even notice the boat heeling way over but gladly came up when I let them off the nap hook and said they could watch the towing. With great efficiency Sea-Tow zipped in, took down our information, and pulled us off. The heeling over we did to get off made us amazed at how shallow and thick the mud was. The guy was happy to accept the "tickets" Lamar and Cedar gave him as tokens of their thanks. As I watched Lamar leaning over into the skiff and shouting at the guy about her ticket, I couldn't help but wonder, "Is this the same little girl I had this morning?"

Northern Florida

May 3-5 Cocoa Beach to northern Florida

I report three days of slogging up the Intercoastal Waterway. Actually, it hasn't been bad at all. There's something refreshing about being able to get up in the morning and do what you planned to do without a lot of deliberation. The Intercoastal is nice that way. By afternoon each day there was a gentle land breeze and we rolled out the jib. The girls have taken over the cabintop and the main boom, which is their horse. They have saddles, bridles, and reins, and bring their dollies on long rides. Then they bring up more and more accessories, until all their toys plus half the kitchen is up there. We don't complain, and if the boat heels over, pick up the stuff on the lower deck. It's enough that they are happily surviving these long days without breaks. It has been HOT-in the 90s on shore. Under the awning and in the breeze, it's still pleasant.

One evening we ran aground trying to anchor in a tight spot where we anchored last November. It was low tide and very muddy, so Mark simply took the dinghy out and set the anchor where he wanted us to end up. When the tide came in and we lifted off, he pulled us in with the anchor rode.

The worse thing has been the no-see-ums. We put up the bug tent every night now which makes sleep possible, but still not abundant. It's too hot, with no wind, and we are still getting chewed in the cabin.

May 6-Fernandina Beach

We slept so poorly that around 6:00 we just gave up. There wasn't a breath of wind and it was humid and buggy. The girls, who'd been up frequently at night, finally went to sleep just as we called it quits and poked our heads outside. Big winds were on the way and we had planned to leave anyway. We upped the anchor and headed out. It smelled strongly of…grass, salt, muck. I would have found this distasteful six months ago; this time I enjoyed having any earth-based smells at all. Also the sky was overcast, low clouds, definite signs of weather coming; what a nice change! After awhile even 80 degrees, sun and puffy clouds can get old.

We reached Fernandina Beach by late morning, pulled up to get diesel, and inquired about slips at the marina. They were gone, but Mark thinks the guy took pity on us because of the kids, and found us a spot anyway. Most boats were anchored in the wide waterway, ready to get pasted.

We were SO lucky to get this slip, in the end. Within an hour or two after arriving the winds kicked up past 20 knots, with more and stronger coming. The boats out in the waterway were bouncing, and we would have been stuck out there, unable to bring the dinghy in, perhaps for days. Instead we wandered ashore and found a large festival in full swing! Though the tents looked in danger of blowing over, this historic town was overflowing with thousands of visitors. Free gadgets, hundreds of artwork stands, and costumed pirates handing out necklaces and "arrgggg"ing. It one of those days that includes many days: was it possible that we had woken up in a buggy swamp? Mid-afternoon there was a downpour, and then it REALLY started to blow. This system has hurricane-force winds out near Bermuda (but is NOT a tropical storm, in case you were worried, and has only 1-100 chances of becoming one). We enjoyed being able to hang out in town and not worry about Amicus, safely tied into a dock for once. In the late afternoon we listened to a musician and sucked on sno-cones.

With bodies covered in old bug bites (especially Cedar), we nevertheless slept like babies, the first solid sleep since before the no-see-ums. No bug tent, blankets to snuggle under…we were in heaven. It was in the low 60s, unheard of chilly, if you include the wind.

May 7, 2007

We woke up to 30+ knots of wind and pulled out our fleece. We found cheap laundry machines and washed the kids' quilt, phew what a relief. It feels like a Midwestern fall day: cool, crisp, windy. There was plenty to see so we wandered the wide sidewalks. For the third time in a week someone asked us if the girls are twins. Lamar must really be getting tall. She has outdone even Cedar in her motherly devotion. Her baby is in the sling at all times, other than sleeping when we insist that baby sleeps to the side. She can even swing around on the playground, still crooning to baby.

In the afternoon we took showers and then headed into town to go out for our wedding anniversary dinner. We ended up having a magical evening, completely unexpected. The restaurant was an old mansion. It was the weekly bluegrass open mike night, and the musicians began to gather. Guitars, fiddles, banjos, mandolins, and a bass. Nothing is happier than bluegrass music; smiles were everywhere, feet were tapping, and harmonies were growing. Cedar and Lamar couldn't keep still and danced, much to everyone's delight. Twice the musicians invited the girls up, and I'll be darned if they didn't get up there and sing twice-"Do Lord, Oh Do Lord" and then "You are my sunshine." Cedar sang right into the mike, eliciting a roar of applause, while Lamar mostly rocked her dolly, in the sling as always. They brought the house down. It was hard to leave, and we sang and danced most of the way home.

Subtley I watch us turn our energies towards home. All I could think during the evening was that it was high time to get the girls playing some instruments; singing is no longer enough, and we need more music in our lives. Another sign: the other day I was listening on NPR to a discussion about sex offenders re-integrating into communities, and someone said "If we push them too far to the side, we will lose them. And then are we safer?" Reflexively I cheered aloud--I still really care about this stuff! And can't wait to return to it, when the time comes.

May 8

That night the wind blew so strongly that even in our protected spot, the boat heeled heavily over at times. There's a hurricane watch out. The storm is about to come to land. If it doesn't, it could become a tropical storm. We'll know by tomorrow night.

This morning I took a long walk to the grocery store, hitting Wal-Mart and a thrift store along the way. Most importantly, I bought a bunch of mesh material that will serve for no-see-um netting.

Back to Florida

April 28-30 West End, Grand Bahama Island

We spent three days at West End. The SE wind forecasts fizzled into nothing and there was no wind almost the whole time we were there. The no-see-ums had a hayday with us, though Mark set up the bug tent at night in the v-berth so at least we slept. (The no-see-ums all congregate in the v-berth during the night for some reason so we are okay in the cabin.) The days were quiet. We spent hours upon hours in the pool; Cedar and Lamar learned to leap off the "waterfall" from the upper pool to the lower pool. I used the computer to phone every member of my family after months of silence. We met a nice couple from Toronto on vacation for a week. Lamar overcame all obstacles associated with a lame mask and snorkel and actually learned to do it! She could barely see anything because her mask was so foggy but I could hear her exclaiming and knew that she was seeing something. That girl is amazing, if I do say so myself.

April 30 Final Day in West End

At 6:30 a.m., hopefully we listened to the forecast. It was hard to hear but what we heard did not sound good. It was unbearably buggy in the cabin so the girls and I went to the weight room (where we go several times a day to get ice water) and escaped the heat and bugs while Mark tried to talk to Chris Parker on another station. After a couple of hours, we sat in the air-conditioned weight room and discussed our options while the girls gave each other Christmas presents-barbells wrapped in paper napkins-surprising each other over and over again. The forecast called for occasional SE light winds, or light and variable winds, all week. It would be a motoring trip, Chris flatly told Mark. If we stayed and waited for better, we would be paying big bucks and trying to run from the bugs the whole time. We decided to go. Mark was increasingly concerned about our engine, which hasn't been used much recently. He'd just discovered a pinhole leak in the gas tank-nothing immediately threatening, but yet another sign that we have an old engine. He did not relish the notion of getting caught way out in the gulf stream with yet another engine problem. So we decided to head for Ft. Pierce, an overnight trip, leaving late afternoon. Sometimes it amazes me how much cruising time is spent in places you don't really want to be. It's like planning a trip, or a flight, and every day you find you're not going where you want to go, or you have to wait to get there, or it's not going to look like you thought. Mark is better; while I tear my hair out and bemoan what we want to do, he sees his options change and deals with the reality that faces him.

So we left at 4:30. A light breeze had come out of the northeast, right on the beam. Great for sailing right now, not great in the gulf stream which runs SW to NE. A current vs. wind situation, we know, is what you want to avoid at all costs.

We are old hands at overnights. The girls prepared themselves, as did we. Mark put up all the sails and we sailed along merrily, glad for the unexpected windfall wind but hoping it wouldn't last or build in the stream. We ate supper and put the girls to bed right as the waves started growing and our speed picked up-both signs of entering the stream. The breeze was slowly dying, and slowly backing to the east. There weren't big waves-only a few reached 4 feet--but the motion was very irregular, and became more so the farther we got into the stream. Now I understand what they mean when they say "lumpy" seas. It wasn't waves, just lumps coming from any direction. Luckily, they weren't very big. Despite them, we sailed all right on a broad reach that kept getting broader, and slower. I was on watch from 10:00-2:00 (we take each night as it comes and have no set schedule) and lay in the cockpit with the timer, checking for ships every 15 minutes and trying not to slide off while dozing. Mark reports that he actually slept during this time. I was slightly seasick with all the bouncing around and was grateful that the girls could sleep through this without a peep anymore.

May 1-to Florida

When Mark got up at 2:30am he pointed out that we were in danger of sliding right by Ft. Pierce before we could get in enough westing to leave the gulf stream. The winds just weren't strong enough to hold the course northwest. The next inlet north, Cape Canaveral, was too far to be sure of getting there in daylight. And the winds really were dying anyway. So we turned on the motor and headed due west. I was worried that I'd blown it and we wouldn't make it anyway, but in a couple of hours we were out of the strongest current and by daylight the motion was way down and the seas were calm other than a slight swell. Condominiums and highrises were visible through the haze.

We came in around 9:30. Of course it was with mixed feelings that we arrived in Florida, but in general we felt good. The familiarity was surprisingly comforting. Roads. Paths. Buoys. Rules that we understood. Dolphins welcomed us back, and birds. (Why aren't there any birds in the Bahamas?) Even the dirty water was familiar. The energy of going away is so different from the energy of returning, and it was good to be back.

Going up the Intercoastal Waterway, we got within 10 miles of Cape Canaveral by early evening. Mark and I took turns napping. It was HOT, but a nice easterly land breeze came up and we sailed most of the way. We dropped the hook around 7:00pm, ate corned beef hash, and fell into bed.

May 2-Cocoa Beach, FL

By 11:00 in the morning we had anchored in Cocoa Beach and dinghied ashore. First business was to check in to the country. A couple we'd met several times in the Bahamas was at the dinghy dock, and they offered to drive us to customs in a car they had for the day. What a stroke of luck! Customs was miles away and we didn't even know where it was. They kindly stayed with us through the ordeal, which took awhile because there was a slight snaffoo about showing up a few hours late. You're supposed to check in within 24 hours of arrival, and since Mark (scrupulously honest-and also aware that the military has every inlet on camera) told him that we'd actually come in at Ft. Pierce the morning before. For awhile it seemed like there might be a problem, and we were given "Consequences of Failure to Report" to read, but when we all realized that the boat (or the anchor, to be precise-does that count?) did not actually Touch American Soil until 7:00 last night, well within 24 hours, the situation improved. Luckily Mark was in charge of this; I tried to stay away as I knew my irrepressible eye-rolling would not do us any good-Good Grief! Wasn't it obvious we were harmless and doing our best? Another victory for the terrorists, as our friends commented afterwards. Now all we have to do is go online to pay for the privilege of checking in and all the expenses incurred. (They don't want to have to deal with money at the Customs office).

After that, the day kept going our way. We marveled at the public restrooms, the free ice water, the general cleanliness, the multiple playgrounds. We appreciated the unknown people and policies that were invisibly providing all this for us. We got dropped off at Burger King, relished the cheap beef, walked to a grocery store, gleefully bought all the backpack could carry, and took a bus back. Mark hiked all the food back to the boat while the girls and I meandered ½ mile to the library, ate yogurt on the steps, and went in to ask if they had used books for sale. No go, but we enjoyed the quiet cool place and waited for Mark. By late afternoon we put the girls back on our shoulders and headed back. The best was yet to come. We found a used book store and spent $42-a rare splurge, but what a gold mine! We were at the point where reading stories had lost its appeal. The only books I would consent to read, the girls didn't want to hear. Cedar's Little House books were in such tatters that she couldn't pull them out without leaving a trail of paper shreds around to be cleaned up. So you can imagine the glee when we discovered the store. Cedar, hugging 3 new unread Little House books, was actually speechless.

Then we returned to the park by the harbor and found a band playing and the smells of food around. We were astonished to see random people helping themselves to food like strawberry fondue, chicken wings, spinach and artichoke dip with sourdough bread. It was a Chamber of Commerce fair, with food for anyone. Trying to act civilized, we filled several small plates with food and had a dinner to remember. A wedding reception without the small talk or fancy clothes. It cemented my opinion of Cocoa Beach as a town of abundance and generosity and positive endeavor.

That night Mark and I halfheartedly sorted out our feelings. It was good to let go, once again, of our original dreams for this trip and to realize that a trip to the Bahamas was exactly right for us this year, with the kids this age. How lucky we are to have a Bahamas so accessible to this country, and that other families with small children take advantage of it too. The friendships we have made this past year sink more deeply into our memory bank than almost anything else.

P.S. Check out the Bahamas photo album--dozens of new pictures on there, many courtesy of the Teskey's.