We
awakened on Friday the 13th in Ft. Pierce with plans to return the rental car,
to hoof it back to the boat and to prep for departure late morning with an
anchorage destination for the overnight. Two glitches threatened to amend our
plans (a fierce wind and movement of the harbor construction barge which would
soon block our exit), but we forged onward with a noon departure which Clay
executed flawlessly.
We
set anchor north of the Melbourne bridge late afternoon, blowing about the
anchor with a continuing wind impacting our movement. I again, as often before,
had the feeling, "I have no idea where I am. Not a particularly good
feeling" which I posted on Facebook; this being an atypical post for me, I
unexpectedly garnered quick response from friends with immediate concern as to
my well-being. Thanks Becky Chitwood for your phone call and Patty Avery for
your call to sister Susan. Wow! Nice to know I have friends who care, but must
take care not to unduly alarm those near and dear! (Sus told Patty I'd probably
just had a bit too much vino...nope.)
We
began Saturday with our usual routine of Sally's stretch-and-flex and tracking,
breakfast and a mid-morning anchor pull. Things always look brighter in the
daylight, but darned if I still had no clue as to where I was. As we motored
northward and reached the outskirts of Titusville, Clay slowed to a snail's
pace (mind you, we don't go much faster than that routinely anyway) and began
looking and listening skyward. Thanks, Woody Crandall, for your heads-up
regarding the air show originating from the Titusville Muni Airport near NASA.
Totally
absorbed in the air show, Clay opted to set anchor at 2:30 p.m. for an
afternoon of 'fun in the sun.' Please realize 'fun in the sun' has different
meaning to different people. Clay, happy as a lark, relished in the LOUD planes
buzzing overhead in flight patterns that placed SaSea Sally directly below the
airport approach while I experienced the distinct feeling that we were being
dive-bombed! Clay snapped photo after photo while I wiped sweat, swatted biting
bugs, rocked with the boat's incredible movement from yet more windy
conditions, and thought to myself, "You owe me!" Truth be known, I
did enjoy the Thunderbirds, but spent a huge amount of time covering my ears in
protection from the noise; either Clay was oblivious or his hearing IS
seriously impaired!
Pulling
anchor shortly after 4 p.m., we moved on with yet quite a distance to go to
reach our Mosquito Lagoon overnight anchorage site. As I checked on things
below and passed one of only three mirrors aboard, I said to myself, "You
are a good sport...a real trooper." I don't think words can accurately
convey the magnitude of the noise nor the impact of the experience prior.
We
set anchor at 6:50 p.m. (too late); soon thereafter, I texted sister Susan
"I think I remember Clay saying dinner would be catered tonight."
That brought forth a huge chuckle from inside me. Life is much more easily
lived with humor as your constant companion!
We
awakened Sunday morning with Captain Clay hot to trot. Really? A disrupted
morning routine had us pulling anchor shortly after 8 a.m. with breakfast
served shortly thereafter on the fly bridge. Post breakfast, I tracked while
moving (a real feat which requires good balance and an expectation of boat
movement without being able to see what's ahead, positioned on the stern as I
am for this thirty minutes of cardio). Nine hours of cruising had SaSea Sally
located at the mouth of the Matanzas River but with far too much shoaling (and
thus too little depth) to safely follow the directions to the Fort Matanzas
anchorage. So we chose to set anchor out of the ICW's main channel, turn on our
anchor light and hope for the best.
A
delicious meal of grilled pork chops, baked potatoes and grilled zucchini ended
our long-cruising day with another long day anticipated on Monday.
As
we tuck into bed, I bid a fond farewell to those of you still following the
events of our now almost nineteen months aboard SaSea Sally.
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