Ok. I'm going to begin by just admitting right off the bat that the recent lag in Casual updates is not really a result of the time and internet limitations that normally delay our communication. The delay is mostly the product of my inability to wrap my mind around the events of the past ten days or so, which have covered such an outrageously broad spectrum of successes and failures that I've been rather at a loss as to how to disseminate the facts of our situation (which, as is absolutely freakin' typical of life, are nearly all vague and indescernable, or at least insufficient to really tell the whole story). But, no excuses - after all, I'm a blue water sailor now, and we blue water sailors don't mess around (or at least that's what I've been told...).
And speaking of blue water sailing, before I give the current low-down, I might as well backtrack a bit and give the highlights of last week (also known as The Week When Charlie and I Crushed All of Georgia Without Even Blinking). We left St. Augustine on the morning of April 24th feeling bold, brave, and highly motivated to get underway (I suspect the combined influence of genuine seafaring spirit, and the incredibly loud outdoor sunrise Easter service to which we awoke around 6:00 that morning). We had anchored on the northern side of the drawbridge, and had a bit of an awkward time requesting two successive openings of the bridge so that we could hit the fuel dock on the south side, and then take off heading north immediately afterward... but I've learned that you can't let cranky drawbridge operators dampen your spirits. After all, as far as I can tell all they have to do all day long is eat cheetos and watch t.v. in their towers, and open up a bridge every now and then. If they can't handle opening the bridge twice without a nice long cheetos break in between, that's on them.
We cleared the bridge and motored our way out to the St. Augustine inlet, feeling the perfect south-easterly breeze beginning to collect itself just as we hit the mouth of the ocean around 9:00 a.m., so as soon as we were clear of the shipping channel we shut down the motor (which, by way of foreshadowing, I will begin referring to as my Worst Enemy) and hauled up the sails. The sound of waves against the hull has become one of my favorite sensory enjoyments, and it is never sweeter than in the moment just after the noise of the motor fades out. That is, of course, until Charlie starts barking orders again...
Anyhow, we sailed out of St. Augustine with high hopes of putting in a (very) long day, and making it to St. Mary's inlet on the Florida/ Georgia border, which would mark our first progress beyond the seemingly perpetually receding confines of Florida. We could not have asked for better weather, so when we eventually sighted the flashing beacons of St. Mary's entrance channel that evening around 9:30 pm, I was steering a course due north and making 5 knots, and with the stars wheeling overhead and the boat hardly needing so much as an occasional sail trim, I felt like I could just sail on indefinitely. It is possible that I was just delirious from nearly 13 hours of sailing, but I like to think I was just inspired. When captain and crew conferred briefly, the spirit of audacity was found to be unanimous, so we decided to skip St. Mary's and continue sailing overnight to the next good inlet at St. Simon, GA. We entered our decision into the log at 10:00 pm, and sailed on.
The next entry to the Ubiquitous log book is from 4:05 a.m., and reads: "Wind dead. Sweet towboat action behind us in the channel at St. Simon inlet. Fingers crossed for wind returning soon!" Fortunately, we were soon rewarded for our vigilance, and 58 miles and several cups of very strong Cafe Bustelo coffee later, we were dropping afternoon anchor in the astonishingly beautiful St. Catherine's Sound inlet, having successfully completed our first two-man overnight on the ocean.
The suspense.
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