Sunday, December 12, 1999
A warm and humid morning. Dew all over the boat
but the feel and smell of more of the Florida climate than the
northern climate. We leave our anchorage at the usual; 8:00am.
Immediately out of the Crescent River are dolphins, some
fishing for
their breakfast and some just lollygagging. We find dolphin
everywhere around us. They aren't in a playful mood so as much as I
hoot and holler; they keep to their fishing and lollygagging. I
guess if I had to sum up the Intercoastal Waterway in one word, it
would be: boring. Although the wildlife is pretty, the stream can be
pretty narrow and choppy at times and there are always shallows on
either side. This is cause for a lot of careful chart reading and
concentration. I am not good at either so Bob does most of the
steering and all of the navigating. I am chief cook and bottle
washer on this leg of the trip. After today we only have one more
short day until Florida. We may pop out in St. Mary's, GA and make a
beeline for the Bahamas. At this point, we will depart from Elysia
and meet up with them later after they have gotten their parts
delivery. We've been together with them for quite awhile now and it
will feel funny not having them nearby. I'm planning hot dogs and
baked beans for lunch. That would be a pretty messy lunch to wear.
Saturday, December 11, 1999
The day starts early. Too early for me as I
stayed up late and read. With the "beep" of the alarm at 6:30am, Bob
hops out of bed while I pretend for a few minutes that I can drift
back to sleep. No go. I'm up and drinking my tea and eating toast
with Bob sitting across from me laughing and calling me a fuzzhead.
Must have tossed and turned a lot. He says I look like a Q-tip. I
got another haircut in Beaufort and each time I go shorter. I
have
about an inch and a half of hair and it's easy and dries fast and
what a pleasure to not worry about coloring and blow-drying. A
little gel and that's that. I suppose there are worse things to look
like than a Q-tip. We continued down the ICW today and surpassed our
original destination of 45 miles about 1:00PM. The winds and water
were behind us, giving us a good push so we were doing about 7-8
knots. We are now anchored in the Crescent River, still in Georgia.
It was a fairly uneventful day but with us, no day seems to go by
without some incident. Bob was doing most of the steering today as
the ICW was winding and very shallow on either side of us. Getting
tired of lunchmeat and peanut butter and jelly, I decided to make
him a treat for lunch. I toasted thick slices of whole wheat bread
to which I put mustard on each piece, then fried 2 eggs and added 2
pieces of Swiss cheese. Yum. I then cut up a Granny Smith apple and
topped it off with salt and vinegar chips, his favorite. I presented
this pretty plate and offered to steer so he could really enjoy it
and eat it hot. I took the helm and Bob walked around the folding
cockpit chair and proceeded to sit right smack dab in the middle of
his sandwich. We couldn't help but laugh, especially when he stood
back up and had egg and mustard all over his white painters pants.
He changed pants and ate it anyway. We almost made it a complete day
without going aground but nooooo. As we entered the Crescent River,
our chart ran out but Eric and Susan had a different chart. We
thought we were following pretty much in their wake but I guess not.
The depth finder read 3.7 feet and we were stuck. Bob worked at it
for awhile until the overheat light came on the engine and then let
it cool down. He worked at it some more and we came loose. I have to
say, he's really getting to be an expert at getting us ungrounded.
Friday, December 10, 1999
December 10, 1999 10:00am, we are both fueled
and watered and off Elysia and Mutual Fun go down the Intercoastal.
Destination: south. The day ends early and we are anchored by
3:00pm, in Thunderbolt, GA. No one wants a repeat of an after-dark
anchorage. 
Eric and Susan bring goodies and we celebrate the fact
that we only went aground once today, for only a few seconds, with a
nice, long cocktail hour. There are no-see-ums by the hundreds
buzzing around us and we celebrate them, too. We haven't seen bugs
in months!
Wednesday, December 8, 1999
The old saying, "the dawning of a new day" seems
so profound at sea. The nights seem so long and the dark watches,
every 2 hours, seem to go on forever and just when you think you
can't take anymore, you see the sky lighten and the sun break free
from the horizon. The air warms and new thoughts and hopes are born
inside you. You have no choice but to thank the powers that be for
another day of survival and safety.
Charleston came and went at about 6:00am as we all decided to keep going to Savannah. The reason for this decision is that Eric and Susan are awaiting parts for their autopilot and are hand steering. They want to make as much time south as they can but sailing more than one night at a time is too tiring in the extreme cold, as it's been. The winds were good in the right direction, for a change, and so we continued south. Bob and I didn't really take the time to talk about this move and it cost us, as usual.
A few dolphins went by but they were headed north and had no time to play with the likes of us. Like they had a purpose. Ha! Porpoises with a purpose. About an hour later, I saw something in the water. I stood up and leaned over to find a giant sea turtle poke his head out long enough to give me a dirty look and drop back under the water.
The sun is just beginning its journey to the other side of the world and we are losing daylight, fast. We are in the channel to Hilton Head but we have quite a ways to go to the anchorage. Eric and Susan were an hour in front of us and we are keeping in touch by VHF but they are very tired and are doing their best to get themselves anchored before they fall asleep, to be of help. We plot along from buoy to buoy, now using a flashlight for navigation. We make it into the inner harbour but we still have to find the anchorage, which is down a creek, and navigation is by unlit markers. Things are now getting tense, as we can't see diddly. We know there are docks sticking out and we know there are small islands, according to the charts but we are having trouble working things out in the dark. For your knowledge, you are never supposed to go into an unfamiliar harbour at night. We do it constantly. Why? Good question! I grab the spotlight as Bob tells me to locate red buoy number 2. (And by the way, Bob gets to TELL me to do stuff on the boat and I get to DO IT. It's a profound difference from anything that ever happens on land and I think he might be enjoying it.)
We found buoy Red 2 just as the spotlight gave a gasp and died. I ran down and got 2 flashlights and ran back up. Bob and I are in communication by small walkie-talkies from bow to stern. I try to shine the tiny maglite flashlights out there but they show nothing. All of the sudden I yell to Bob to turn around NOW. Directly in front of us is land. I can't really make out its exact shape but it's there. At this point, we realize that we are tired after 36 hours of straight sailing and we had better set anchor anywhere we can. We stay where we are in 8 feet of water and set anchor. We go below and I say nothing. I am exhausted, cold and not too happy. I curl up on the couch, Bob puts a blanket over me and I find that I have no energy to make dinner. Bob makes us each a steaming bowl of soup. As we eat, I calmly tell him that we seem to be learning nothing from our past mistakes and let's try to do better. He agrees that we shouldn't try to make safe a harbour in the dark. I sack out in the bunk and Bob stretches out and falls asleep on the couch. But, the night is not over for Mutual Fun.
1:00am. I awake to a jolt and say to Bob, "Bob, I think we're aground." Bob is conditioned to jump up instantly when he is called awake. He jumps up and is thrown to the other side of the boat, which isn't that far since the table stopped his launch. By now, I am laying on the sidewall of the bunk. Bob goes out to check out the situation and I pull the covers up higher. He comes back in and confirms that we are definitely aground. In our tired state, neither one of us remembered that there is a tide and we were not at low tide when we anchored, therefor, we were aground. Bob very sweetly brought me 4 pillows. I put them against the sidewall and snuggled down further under the covers and went back to sleep. Meanwhile, Bob is sitting on the couch with his legs wedged against the table and things are flying off the nav station and unto the floor. Bob is working out where all of the bilges are and who is going to pump the front bilge and who will man the back bilge. And how he will have to get out the storm doors for the companionway door if water starts coming in. And what will happen to the dinghy motor if the boat heels over any further. And what if water stars coming in the portholes. And, exactly how he is going to explain to all of our family and friends that our boat sunk in 8 feet of water while we were anchored in the Intercoastal, instead of a harbour, outside of Hilton Head. Somehow, he managed to fall back asleep in that wedged position and the next I knew of anything, my bunk was level again. It was 7:00am and the tide had come back in. We scurried up and moved the boat into safe waters. We celebrated another narrow escape with a big pancake breakfast.
December 9, 1999 was spent exploring Harbor Town in Hilton Head. You just can't believe the hundreds of million dollar houses in this area.
Saturday, December 4, 1999
Can you believe we still aren't warm? Although last night the wind finally died down and I was able to get the heater to work without downdrafts putting it out. To celebrate, we invited Eric and Susan and also our Swiss friends from "Linus", Laurent and Elian for potluck dinner. 
Susan made a delicious chili, I made a big salad and hot dogs and our other friends made these absolutely wonderful crepes for dessert. We were all cozy from the heat, good food and the Merlot.
We pulled anchor about 7:00am with New River being our destiny. We are presently motoring down the Intercoastal to get to Charleston. You can not travel at night on the Intercoastal, as it is too dark and winding with lots of shallows. We are here in a little anchorage with two other boats, including Eric and Susan (boat named "Elysia"). Tomorrow night we should end up in Cape Fear. Sounds like a great place to film a movie. Possibly when we get to Charleston we will jump out of the Intercoastal and into the ocean.
As we left Beaufort, Bob spotted dolphin and I called them over and they gave us a great show, swimming under the bow. Did you know that dolphin can swim up to 25 miles per hour? I was having so much fun with them that by the time I got the camera, they were gone. Many more swam around but too far off to photograph. There is lots of wildlife here although we are anchored near Camp LeJuene (sp?), a military camp. We will try not to tick them off.
The launch was
pretty cool. People came from many different states to see it. I was
glad it was canceled 9 different times and we had the chance to see
it.
to
make good use of the day and continue on to Vero Beach. After about
3 weeks together, we have parted company with them. We may see them
tomorrow or the next day or not until the Bahamas or not for a long
while. As for now, we are anchored near Melbourne and our friends on 
Freyas Pond are anchored next to us. We met Ken and Alma in
Annapolis and have seen them at a few different anchorages since.
They are from Scotland and then Canada and are brand new sailors.
They ask a lot of questions but after hearing our tales, the most
important question they ask us is when we are going out to sea, so
they can be sure to stay in. Their boat is 45+ feet and they have
done a lot of fixing up. 
Elysia (Eric and Susan) is off our port bow and ahead of us. At 8:00pm, after my watch, I will get on the SSB net and talk to other boats, boats that we have met before and find out where they are.