Jacksonville (post Rohrs) to Fernandina Beach, FL May17-26, 2014

May 17-26, 2014

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!

  

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.

Some of the Jacksonville skyline

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.

Huge bridges

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.

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

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.

A container ship being loaded

A heavy lifter!

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.  

Look at those bow thrusters

Sunset at Jacksonville Free dock @ Sisters Creek

Small boats launching at Sisters Creek

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!

Sunrise at Sisters Creek with a dauphin swimming.

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!

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! 

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.