May 17-26, 2014
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| Ortega Ldg is the far marina w/skyline in background |
Traveling by car now
and on our way 'home' from New Smyrna, Clay deemed necessary a stop at the St.
Augustine Outlet Mall. My replacement list included 'white capris' after mine
absorbed the blouse/top's tie-dye and became a mottled mess of unattractive
color. Finding no replacements and little else to tempt us, we were soon back
on I-95 toward Ortega Landing (Jacksonville). Dinner of leftovers aboard the
SaSea Sally ended our day as I looked forward to a week of staying put!
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| Little Red Tug from Minneapolis |
There's something to be said for
traveling week by week, or month by month, instead of day by day. First and
foremost, longevity fosters affordability; marinas offer weekly and monthly
rates. Second, it just seems nice to have a home (port) for a period of
time...where you know what services and amenities are available and where they
are in relation to where you are! It's nice to settle into a routine for even a
brief period of time and be able to meet and greet the same folks on a daily
basis by name. For this week at Ortega Landing I was extremely grateful! As
previously described, we had shopping and services nearby, a small pool onsite,
a gorgeous morning walking route, 24-hour security, free laundry, a mailing
address for the week...and the list goes on. Clay's modus operandi was
day-by-day, so I was doubly thankful that routine maintenance is required
routinely! This was to be our 100-hour service, and Clay had lined up a parade
of participants to accomplish that end.
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| Some of the Jacksonville skyline |
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| Clay chowing at Fuji Sushi |
First and primary was Ralph, who
showed up Sunday midday to iron out details of his quite extensive to-do list.
Sure wished big Ralph were an MD doc making a house call, not a boat doc making
the same! I'd come down with a humdinger of a 'bug' overnight which rendered my
tummy 'not-happy,' and I'd made little progress toward getting better. I'd
always thought getting sick on the boat would be bad...you got that right (but
actually probably no worse than being sick at home). With a grin-and-bear-it
attitude, I forged ahead, not sick enough to stay in bed, but not well enough
to be normal (don't go there!). Nonetheless, Clay and I had earlier walked the
McGirts route; and I proceeded to swim some laps, do two laundry loads, and
make an errands run with Clay to Dicks/Lowes/JCP/WMT which ran us late into the
early evening. Deciding that dining out would be the better option, we accepted
dock master Scott's suggestion of nearby Fuji Sushi and later applauded his
advice.
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| Huge bridges |
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| One of the highest marked bridges we saw |
On Monday, Clay worked closely with
Ralph to maximize Clay's education and Ralph's efficiency while I did office
work and housework. It would be deemed a 'normal' day in terms of my LAMO life,
but days like these are few and far between in this new (new? we've been aboard
almost nine months now) boating life of mine. I was enjoying the normalcy! (But
maybe nine months has now defined a new normal?) I squeezed in some pool time
and then took a bathhouse shower which afforded the luxury of lots of running water
with both shampoo and shower gel; I usually have to choose between the two
products to protect the boat's shower drain pump. As dinnertime approached, we
found that Ortega Landing nixed grilling on boats, so their oversized grill
plates allowed us to cook lamb chops, corn and sliced zucchini en masse. It
took a bit more organization on the front end, but highly efficient in the long
run; Clay was forced to help, so he got some chef practice.
Tuesday was more of the same with
Ralph aboard, more nausea and abdominal cramping, our usual McGirts walking
route, laundry, lap swim, and some computer work. Out of the realm of ordinary
was my attempt (third and last) to whiten my capris. I pre-washed, then
simmered them in Rit Dye Remover for an hour, then post-washed and claimed
SUCCESS! That's huge in my books because, after foiled attempts with bleach and
Oxi-Clean, I had no more resources in my repertoire. It remained to be seen if
I could squeeze myself into capris (I did) which had most probably shrunk in the
simmering process. Dinner of leftovers completed this day.
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| Ralph wedged in the rear stateroom |
Wednesday, Ralph returned soon after
Clay and I completed the McGirts loop. As lunchtime approached, Clay left Ralph
in charge of SaSea, and we lunched at nearby Panera (Gayle, can you believe it
took me five days to get there?), then road tripped toward J'ville Beach to
consult Pat the Screen Lady who could potentially bug-proof our boat interior
with custom-made door screens. I had high hopes of de-camping (or would the
prefix be un- or dis- or anti-) our boating experience! I've decided I'm an
outdoor gal only to the extent it doesn't involve bugs or require bug spray. As
dinnertime approached, Clay helped to prep salmon and asparagus and then
accompanied me yet again to the onshore site for a slam-dunk grilling
experience. Despite the continuing low-grade malady, I kept cooking and eating.
Thursday allowed me some much-needed
space (solo) after our McGirts loop. I put in some lap time at the pool then
perched myself in the driver's seat of our Impala rental (I think first time
driving since early April), and navigated to the USPS (no, I did not get lost),
then to Wally World, returning to the marina un-ruffled, un-dented,
un-detoured, and totally thrilled to have had some 'me' time!
It was so hot this day that I think
the popcorn packets stowed in the galley would have popped themselves
unassisted! So, the pool beckoned Clay, and thus, I tagged along and monitored
a laundry load of rags and rugs while poolside. Not having planned dinner and still
not 100%, a return to Fuji Sushi suited me fine for dinner; the food was
moderately-priced and fresh, and the atmosphere enjoyable.
Friday dawned with yet another
McGirts loop which we concluded with a detour by
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| Ortega Landing pool |
Panera for a morning bagel for
me and a pecan roll for Clay. I cycled a laundry load (in prep for our later
afternoon depature), monitoring the process as required by the marina by
swimming laps in the adjacent pool. Ralph's wife and business partner Josie
appeared boatside to collect payment for work done soon after my return. As I
made the our aft stateroom bed with newly-laundered sheets, I was struck by the
fact that, although the bedroom was tidy, the remaining interior and exterior
of space was anything but! There was stuff everywhere. How absolutely
depressing! I know the week had been spent with work progressing, but come on!
This is my home (away from home). Or is the boat merely where I'm living for
the next fifteen months? (Yep, I'm still counting.) You can guess Clay got an
earful! And, a hefty nudge to get the boat tidied up. A little dirt I can
handle, but clutter launches me!
But tidying up didn't happen...at
least not then. A more pressing issue surfaced when Clay discovered shower
water in the bilge (for you non-boaters, shower water is not supposed to be
present in the bilge). Clay's comment, "Sal, remember that sound you are
supposed to hear when the shower drains?" The shower sump pump had burned
out, so the sound Sally was supposed to hear wasn't sounding. Ralph to the
rescue! Thank goodness Ralph fit (barely) in the conservative amount of space
available to lie lengthwise adjacent to the hole in the floor where the sump
pump is located.
Two or three points to make here:
First, Sal's ears seem to hear much better than Clay's; thus Sal was the one
who was supposed to hear, but didn't, the functioning sump pump and
accompanying noise/buzz. Second and daily, Sal had been luxuriating in the
Ortega Landing bathhouse, enjoying her shampoo, shower gel, spacious shower
stall and limitless (well, I'm still environmentally conscious) water supply,
so Sal wasn't gonna hear the noise from taking her shower there (and is usually
sound asleep when Clay finally takes his daily shower which negates her hearing
the buzz at that time). So much buzz about nothing...or maybe too little buzz
about something! Third, better put 'noise locator' on the duty list for first
mate!
OK, so now the sump pump is fixed,
Ralph is paid, and we are in prep mode to depart. Had dock master Scott 'cut us
a bargain,' as in prorating the weekly rate, we'd have stayed another overnight
because it was getting late in the day. But not, so now in departure mode, we
had all hands on dock to cut us loose. We'd just cleared the dock when Captain
Clay aborted departure, realizing that the thrusters were inoperable. A pilot
in walk-around mode might have discovered this pre-flight, but no harm done as
we reversed our course, sliding quite nicely back into slip B71 and once again
welcomed by all hands on dock. Cute event for the reputation, but I'll bet it
happens quite often! Ralph came a'runnin' when he realized he'd forgotten to
flip thruster switch to 'on.' Oops! Second attempt had us departing 3:45 p.m.,
Sisters-Creek-bound.
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| A container ship being loaded |
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| A heavy lifter! |
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| Small cruise ship docked |
As we cruised down the St John River, we passed busy commercial shipping terminals, huge ships of all sizes and shapes, loading facilities, etc.
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| Look at those bow thrusters |
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| Sunset at Jacksonville Free dock @ Sisters Creek |
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| Small boats launching at Sisters Creek |
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| Nice propellers |
Under sauna conditions in the fly
bridge, we motored what was to be a short distance, and docked 3.5 hours later
at the Sisters Creek free dock, which was posted 'must have prior written consent' to dock here
overnight. I was not happy! And when mama ain't happy... Nonetheless, we were
tied (6 lines no less, due to dramatic tides); it was 7:14 p.m. So, I accepted
the risk, tho I was none too happy about it...and Clay got an earful which he
heard in somewhat magnified decibels! (We were later joined by two other
sailing vessels, one of which had prior written consent for his fleet, so we
became new members of said fleet; eased my unease somewhat, but I was taught to
live by the rules. When dad died, mom had countless of his clients calling for
replacement attorneys, saying, "Bob was the only ethical att'y we
knew." So, Clay...get over it!) Post note here, not at the end where it
should be: On our morning walk Saturday, we found the free dock hidden by trees around the point about 100 yards away,
so we
are at the wrong dock, Captain!
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| Sunrise at Sisters Creek with a dauphin swimming. |
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| Drawbridge signal with osprey nest |
Still with dinner staring me in the
face, I peeled and skewered fresh shrimp, seasoned them with Cavendars (thanks
again, Margaret and Randy!), and put Clay to the task of grilling. Yum. We do
eat well aboard! It was a late night as we cleaned up dinner and headed toward
lights out. I made comment to Clay as I crawled under the covers, "The water
pump sounds funny." Not funny! More later on this one.
Incredible again the difference
between Mars and Venus. Clay, upon awakening Saturday morning: "The
cruiser with generator mounted on the bow for ac is pulling out of the
harbor." Sal: "Huh?" Clay: "The boat docked behind
us." Sal: "Oh." (Translation: now I understand.) And, I've
always said, It's amazing God expects man and woman to live together in some
degree of harmony for many years....Really? We must speak entirely different
languages!
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| That ship is coming at you!!! |
We quickly forgot our between-us
communication problems in light of the activity surrounding us early Saturday
morning. What a hugely busy launch site (of course, it IS Memorial Day weekend,
and Clay got wind of the fact that there was a festival nearby.) Repeated
launchings were occurring in rapid succession at the nearby launch ramp which
encouraged our somewhat rapid departure. Turns out the Fort George River, usually a nice quiet, dead end anchorage, is the "Party Cove" of NE Florida where hundreds of boaters and dozens of law enforcement types spend Memorial Day together. We are outta here! (But I must say I
did enjoy watching a dukes' mixture of beach attire parade past us going to the launch
ramp; was quite entertaining!)
Outta here meant 9:30 a.m. departure
post-breakfast (which, for those of you wondering, usually is a fresh fruit
medley coupled with a bowl of dry cereal/milk for Clay and oatmeal (generator
required for cooking) for Sal. I will not sacrifice my nutrition nor my
exercise (for cardio and flexibility); if either is sacrificed, I will QED this
trip PDQ pronto! And HE knows it!). Our destination was Fernandina Harbor Marina
where we arrived 12:15 p.m. tie-down, followed by check-in, lunch aboard, shower,
and a tour of the historic district of downtown. Wine aboard, we opted for
dinner at the nearby Marina Restaurant (a good choice) which was again luck of
the draw.
Returning to the marina after dinner
and walking the considerable length of the dock to where our boat was tied, we
noticed throngs of folks ambling alongside us, seemingly out for a Saturday
evening stroll. Engaging in conversation with one such fella, I found out that,
yes, the evening's entertainment for 'townies' is to go 'down by the riverside,'
walk the docks, and view the boats. (I didn't really like the feeling of being
on display, truthfully!) So be it. I did convince Clay to draw the blinds to
minimize any interior viewing!
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| Paper mill at Fernandina Beach |
The main dock of Fernandina Harbor
Marina runs parallel to the ICW, catching the waves of passing boats traveling
'the ditch.' The wave action and the 6-7' tides here combine with wind and
tide-produced current to create motion, rocking and rolling, and noise
(sloshing). Dramatic, but tolerable. The visual evidence of the tide was the
dock ramp leading to the nearby restaurant, bathhouse and fish market. Upon our
arrival Saturday early afternoon, the ramp was at full tilt, a steep incline of
30-35 degrees or so at low tide. Some hours later post dinner, the ramp had
flattened out with the onset of high tide making it much more user friendly.
Now Sunday morning of Memorial
Weekend, Clay and I located the two bakeries in town and purchased breakfast
items from both, thankful for the walk we'd completed prior. Clay spent time
removing stains from the power cord while I took my bike for a tour around
town. Returning to the boat, I found all the dirty rags from Clay's power cord
endeavor piled on our dining counter. Another 'really?' moment. Rather than
making a scene, I merely disappeared, taking the opportunity to explore the one
shop I'd not entered. It was nearby, nested in the waterfront buildings that
seemed to be a part of the marina complex proper. It was there I found signage
which stated, "Happy Hour is not a time of day, but rather a state of
mind. Cheers!" Cute enough to text to sister Sus, knowing she'd
appreciate, as I did, the sentiment.
I'm quick to release irritation and
anger (for which Clay is extremely grateful if he notices the ire in the first
place), so upon my return to the SaSea Sally, I helped him dismount his bike
and off we went to explore as a duo. We oh'd and ah'd over beautiful homes as
we cruised the residential streets in the historic district. A varied lot they
were...single- and multi-story homes, some with bric-a-brac and gingerbread
trim, some sporting attractive wooden porches, festive with wicker settees and
bright, patterned cushions. The B&B porches were adorned with two-tops and
four-tops awaiting the morning crowd for breakfast. Quite attractive and quite
appealing.
As we approached the inner core of
the downtown district, we heard live music coming from the Green Turtle Tavern;
and Clay convinced me to stop for a cool one. The house wine, on special for a
pub crawl that didn't happen, was quite good and quickly ordered as was
Bud Light, Clay's choice in beer. We made our way to the crowded patio
with its gaily-painted picnic tables and four-tops where we joined a group of
folks partaking of happy hour prices as were we! We quickly befriended Pam and
David, retirees to the Fernandina Beach area. As we parted ways an hour later,
we bid a fond farewell, amazed at how quickly we'd bonded. Life has its share
of amazing moments! And even more amazing is the fact that today marks nine
months living aboard a boat which, shortly after we were married, I'd told Clay
never to ask me to do, because I did not want to live on a boat. Eat my words.
Famous last!
Back to the boat with bikes stowed,
we stoked up the grill and began prep for dinner, made later and later with
each passing group of 'townies' (locals) intent on exchanging stories when they
saw we were from LAMO (is there such a place?) We've noticed a number of
families in this locale from Wildwood, MO, who, of course, make note of our
LAMO nameplate under "SaSea Sally."
Monday dawns, day three of Memorial
Day weekend. Our boat is a MESS. As my morning progressed, it consisted
of bumping my head, banging my shin, clipping my shoulder on the doorjam (and I
thought I was past this stage). Bugs. New introduction of wasps and horseflies
in this area/weather (I have mastered technique of fly swatter where you have
to smack the little suckers with purpose and intent, thanks to Barb Rohr!)
Bugbites that itch for days. Itchy lips (Thank you, Dr. D, for the
hydrocortisone suggestion; it has worked wonders here, there, and everywhere).
Sweat. No breeze. No ac. And a lot of personal hygiene stuff not appropriate to
comment on. Are there really female Great Loopers not yet past this camping stage
of their lives and are thus enjoying this? Who? Sue? Meg? Cathy? Carol? Becky?
Pat? Becky? Now there are moments really nice where anchor drops flawlessly
& catches (bottom) first try, tether (cause I can't remember it's called a
snubber) attaches snuggly without dropping into the water just as you finish
tying it off, nice breeze on fly bridge with only fb & glass of Bogle
chardonnay for company.
Our Monday (disregard the previous
paragraph if you're not into female 'venting') began with a walk which became
longer and longer as we targeted O'Reilly for a hopeful quick fix to our water
pump dilemma. Not to be, but we got a re-up of bakery items at the Pecan Roll
Bakery and a LOT of exercise and sightseeing. Back to the boat, we realized our
day was to be spent dodging raindrops, with clouds then clearing, more clouds,
more clearing. Mother Nature can't make up her mind today. But we could, opting
to depart 4'ish p.m. with first a stop at the nearby fish market and a pump out.
And we were off, headed toward Cumberland Island to experience the history that
lay there.
It was a brief one-hour cruise which
had us dropping anchor in now full later afternoon sunshine and a brisk breeze
(yay, means less bugs and cooler temps). Grilled swordfish completed our Memorial
Day with a meal that would rival any we've had in the past nine months aboard!
Clay informs me that our location is Cumberland Sound just off Dungeness
ruins. Guess we'll be exploring those ruins by dinghy tomorrow.
A note in closing: This Great
Loop adventure is truly best choreographed as a duet because it takes two
working together to make it work well. Maybe that is why we see so many boat
names reflecting this philosophy. "Takes Two" "Harmony"
"Help Me Rhonda" "Kindred Spirit" "Wandering
L&M" "Just Us II" It takes two pairs of ears listening, two
pairs of eyes seeing, two brains thinking, two noses smelling, etc. Clay
realizes he might have done better but could have done a whole lot worse in
having me as his first mate. He readily agrees that my ears are better. Case in
point, I hear the change in tonality of the water pump (bummer that I didn't
mention it with Ralph aboard) and also the change in tonality of the generator,
signaling a blown circuit (most often when I'm using the stove top). Sometimes,
even my brain is better; we've had our share of 393 moments! It truly does take
an extreme degree of good communication, patience, tolerance, forgiveness, and
togetherness to make this trip work.
