Puffin Goes Sailing

follow us home on our very first Puffin voyage. 400 miles. Myrtle Beach, SC to Jacksonville, FL

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October 30th, 13:15

Reaching Jacksonville was truly a grad finale. Standing out as a unique moment along the ICW, Jacksonville has never been more aesthetically stunning than it is by river. What started out a 40 mile venture ended up closer to 60 when accounting for the length traveled east to west and Fernandina is notorious for it’s shallow sandbars to keep you alert.  

It was a fairly calm day with the current and wind on our side for many miles. We could see the skyline of our home long before we reached it. As we approached the many bridges of the city I recognized our stadium, realizing serendipitously that we were coming up on the kick off of the Florida Georgia football game. Having never attended a Georgia game during my Master’s degree at UGA I felt this was possibly the most school spirited occurrence I can take claim to. The river was full of life and motion as tailgaters cruised by and set anchor near the Landing. We were tickled by our chance to waving to our family friends, the Whites and the Fletchers.

In the middle of everything we had another close call with a bridge opening, scraping by at just 10 minutes before rush hour. It was a beautiful blue bridge that opened like an elevator lift, complementing the angular skyline and hues of the reflective buildings.

In the beginning of the trip my dad announced it would be a miracle if we didn’t run aground at least once. In fulfillment of this prophesy, just 8 miles form our dock slip we felt the vibrations of the ground beneath us. Our worst fears fly threw our minds, all in a silent panic trying not to jinx any fortune that was left. Dad threw the tiller around to point us in the direction we came putting all our hopes in the strength of Evan (the name of our 40 year old motor) to redeem us. We got lucky. We shook it off and realigned our path.  

I spent the rest of the trip distracting myself from my excitement of reaching port and read in the bow. Only two pages before the end we were all hands on deck searching for our marina on the dark horizon. It was 20:00 when the masts of the docked boats revealed themselves peeking out from the tops of the silhouetted trees. So densely packed together, they appeared as their own forest. Jerry and his spunky sister JoAnn helped us make home at the dock, a sight for sore eyes. I gathered my things, hailed my goodbyes, and delivered a loud kiss on the mouth to our sweet new friend Puffin.

Until next time.

This is sailing vessel Puffin standing by.

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October 29, 10:29

Another 70 mile day, beginning in Savanah and ending in Fernandina, averaging 4.2 knots. Meeting our goal time is that much more tangible. The men at the North Myrtle Beach marina said it couldn't be done in less than two weeks and we are going to make it in one. Rebels on the move.

With Dad’s impaired vision my Mom and I occupied the cockpit for the majority of the day. They say sailing is about long periods of bliss interrupted by short periods of panic. This day was full of bliss. My mom steered the tiller while I navigated, reading my book out load during long strides. It was the first day warm enough to wear a bathing suit and the landscape was looking more like home by the hour. We reminisced as we passed Jekyll Island and Cumberland Island, pointing out our favorite camp sites. The warmth of the sun brought back memories of sweat and sunscreen and for a moment I recollected a cherished photograph of my mom and I on sailboat La Tina. A saturated Kodak print, Mom looking confidently out on the horizon with high waisted shorts similar to the ones I have on now, me a chubby cheeked little thing bundled up in a life vest. I thought I must be her age now as she was then and I wondered if she felt all the feelings, hopes, and anxieties that I do today.

At the mouth of St Andrews Sound we discovered this to be the closest to the ocean we would be all trip. We could see breakers with white water through the binoculars. I was happy to steer us to the outer reaching path of the ICW, feeling stoic and confident as Puffin pushed the rough waters to either side of the bow. I rememberer this being frightening as a child but in this moment I felt wholly in control. I overcome my fears as my young self by looking over the side watching the water lunge toward my face over and over until I trusted it not to swallow me whole.

The day was steeped in nostalgia. I reflected on the history of our family and how boating has shaped the course our lives. Dad shared the story of their first sailboat at age 23 for $2,400, an impulse buy. Needing a vacation and longing for an adventure. Never having sailed before he bought Cea Cea from Mom’s childhood best friend’s mother’s husband before going out for a test run to learn the ropes.  After my sister and I were born they upgraded to a brand new Hunter 23.5 with water ballast. We La TIna almost every weekend. When I turned seven I clearly remember sitting down at the dinner table for a family discussion. My dad told us we would be moving onto a larger boat and what that meant for us. My mpm tells me I had no problem letting go of our possessions, but I insisted I kept a polly pocket. We lived in our 43 foot Trawler, Lola. named after Mom until just before high school. Our time living on a small vessel together drew us closer and gave me my abilities to adapt, invent, and take risks. As I get older I am still discovering the gifts this time has given me.

Today is our last day. Forty miles to go. We fueled up at Amelia Island greeted by a familiar face with a kindred adventurous spirit, our friend Sharron Kittrell. Just now we are getting our first glimpse of Jacksonville’s Dames Point Bridge.

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October 27, 23:58 Today was the most successful yet. I am feeling the progress of our skills and knowledge of the boat. Our routes are more efficient, our stops more timely, communication improving, and we are traveling faster with more sustainability (5-7 knots). My tracking has improved as I’ve tuned in to the subtleties of the rudder. We traveled a great distance of 73 miles from 7:45 to 23:50, traversing through multiple sounds. I took my turn at napping at 19:00 to prepare me for night sailing. Despite the restlessness in the choppy water, it gave me just enough energy to sail late hours. The weather was warmer, allowing my muscles to relax. I felt much more tranquil than the previous nights, with the occasional splash of a dolphin to startle me. The night was filled with narrow winding channels paired with cloud coverage and a slight fog. Most times it appeared as if we were headed straight for the banks, forcing us to rely heavily on our phone’s GPS navigation. We joked about how it was like playing a video game. At anchorage, just as we were praising our uninterrupted haul, Dad dropped his glasses in the water…

lights out — good night

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Fashion & Zucchini ***Setting HAWT new trends for this season’s NAUGHTY or NAUTICAL: sweater scarf on sweater, scarf turban on burnt ears, and visors for days *** Favorite sailing lunch is VEGAN & RAW: spiraled zucchini noodles with a spicy peanut sauce, cherry tomatoes, red bell pepper, and sesame seeds. Most easy & delicious

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We spent six hours sailing the St Helena Sound, but I couldn’t tell you what it looked like.

Dad

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October 27, 9:23

We just crossed our first state line into Georgia; spotting Savannah’s light on the the horizon the night before. I spent most of yesterday recovering from the last long haul. We were low on gas forcing us to sail with with barley enough wind so we could make it to a marina for anchorage. After dark, we traveled our last cut before opening up to the St Helena Sound. Dad and I in the cockpit, Mom tending our domestic needs inside. We were in for a long night. No moon, a blanket of stars, and the bright light of Venus. I was already exhausted but I knew I had to push through and not give in to my mental state; the scale of the challenge slowly revealing itself as we sailed deeper in to dark open water. Alone on the water, I was fighting the weight of my eyelids as I stared forever into one red or green blinking marker to the next. Just as Dad left me at the tiller for a bathroom break I noticed a pair of faint lights in the distance. Red on right, green on left told me I had an incoming vessel headed straight in my path. A panic settled in as the yacht quickly approached and I could make out a large wake building up at their hull. I called out. My depth perception was compromised and I didn’t know if I should turn left, right, or stay on course. Not knowing the protocol for this situation Mom came out and blew the horn. Thankfully they turned at the last minute, giving us a decent wake to overcome. We are still unsure if they where on auto pilot and didn’t see us or if they were just rude. We carefully charted the remainder of the Sound at a snail’s pace. I could feel the muscles in my back and neck cramping from continuous alert. A soft wind from behind made for an indecisive sail; tossing the boom back and forth over our heads.The current rushing out the the ocean just beside us wasn’t lending a hand either. Six hours later we finally make our mark and find anchorage. We proudly recorded sixty miles in the log book. Needless to say, I had no trouble sleeping that night.

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October 27, 9:23

The next day we spent running errands at the Downtown Beaufort Marina: filling on fuel, reorganizing the cabin (constantly), refilling ice, laundry, showers, tending to the sail, and Ubering to Lowes to buy two more gas cans. After a restorative lunch we set under way at 14:00 with my Mom taking my place in the cockpit so I could find rest. Sailing through the Port Royal Sound was rough and tedious; making it difficult to sleep or read. I simply laid down for most of the day listening to my parent’s narrations. A poem from a moldy book of poems inspired by Beaufort, SC I found in the laundry room. HOMETOWN GIRL Languid days seeking the cool breeze From the grassy Beaufort Bay. Licking orange popsicles, Resting under the old draping oaks; Their limbs reaching to shade me. Comfort — Riding my bike on a hot summer’s day Down cozy shaded streets. Waving to friends. And cousins, aunts, uncles, Always welcome to visit. Talking about any old thing And asked, “Want some cold water?” Walking to the Breeze movie theater To see the Saturday movie, Stopping to talk to the big green Parrot Sitting in his cage by the window. On the way home, stop to see William — He’s not home so sit and talk to his mother, Visit — then “Bye, got to get home. Mama has super ready, See you.” I love talking to her! See William later. —Alice Connolly Moore

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October 25, 17:30 We have had the company of dolphins the past couple afternoons, lifting our spirits to make it through the next challenge. At the moment we are anchored in a cut waiting for the current to change so we can untangle a crab trap from our rudder. We are disappointed to be at a stand still but we have had some fun with the sails prior to now. With the wind at our beam we were able to put the jib up and gain momentum. Puffin was a happy boat leaning hard on one side and full of wind. There isn’t another marina with fuel for another twenty miles so we are sailing for necessity as well as play, tacking and zig zagging our way through the ICW (intracoastal waterway) to keep the wind in our sails. …

18:00

Victory! The current let off and Dad eased into the water off the stern with his rigged up rope ladder. Thankfully he was well studied on the boat’s bottom and quickly set the wedged crab buoy free.

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Sailing Notes

October 25 Luffing is when your headed into the wind and the sail beats back and forth unable to fill

The spring line helps draw you in against the dock when docking.

Jib is the second sail you can add to the front when the wind is at beam (from the side)

Beam is the widest part of the boat

Apparent wind is not true wind. Sailing into the wind feels a lot stronger than wind going with it.

Jibe the wind is coming from the stern (behind) and the sails move to the other side

Tack is when the bow crosses the wind and sails move to the other side

Wing and wing is when the jib is on one side and the mail sail is on the other. hard to maintain

Flaking is a technique of folding The sail down in alternating folds. Faster than rolling because you can keep the clips in

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October 25, 16:30 Last night we were all exhausted and emotionally drained after facing some trails. The day took a turn when we called our next bridge to find out that they were legally required to close between four and six. Rush hour. “I hope you make it in time” he says. So we pulled the throttle full speed (5 knots) and talked sweetly to Puffin for encouragement. We could not afford to loose time. With a stroke of luck we made it at four o clock on the dot. We celebrated our victory just to encounter another bridge an hour and a half later that didn’t open until six thirty. So we docked, and not with very much grace due to a weak motor. Through Charleston’s bay the waters opened, full of boats and ships coming in from the ocean. While doing our best to stay on course we tried pulling up the sail but the wind was not in our favor causing the sail to luff. Once we reached the other side we fought a strong current and a narrow rocky channel to make it to the marina in Charleston. Another stressful docking. We snuck in to the marina bathrooms to take showers and empty our porta potty, laughing our way through a stinky situation.

Ps. Image of me being very excited to find that the radio works and speak with the bridge tender

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October 24, 11:27 I woke up to the anchor being drawn at 6:30 this morning. The days are running long to catch up to our goal mileage. Calm conditions on a narrow intracoastal for most of the day. I enjoyed the playfulness of the herons at sunrise, the vertical rays highlighting their wing span. Further down we spot a group of birds occupying a small but strong current coming in from left, ducking in and out of the water, perched on pillars, and strutting their swagger. We found the tiller extender in the the cabin making steering a lot more comfortable. Feeling relaxed, calm, and spending time reflecting on Patti Smith’s book, Just Kids as I take my turn in the cockpit. Thinking about how I want to live, and the multiple worlds/desires I stratal constantly. Hoping to make it to a marina in Charleston by nightfall.

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Sailing Notes

October 24 theoretical hull speed is the the most efficient speed. With a displacement hull (sits in the water) if you try to go faster you will just create more of a bow wake, slowing you down and waisting fuel. Where as a plaining hull, like on speed boats you can gain speed on top of the water. just because you are pointed toward a marker doesn’t mean you are in the channel because the current could be pushing you sideways

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October 23, 20:40 Today was somewhat hectic with a wrong turn that made us backtrack an hour followed by a chase to find fuel, setting us back another hour. In the end we covered 40 miles and had the chance to raise the sail. It was a happy moment to be able to turn off the motor and just listen to the sound of the water. We are still trialling all the functions of the boat for the first time so it was probably all the excitement and stress of fussing with snags that distracted us off course. Feeling grateful for all of my food preparations, I filled the cabin with smells of spices at sunset just before anchoring (see earlier post for recipes). Another clear night. No moon, but even more stars than the night before. In the middle of nowhere with the sky stretching from horizon to horizon I could actually make out the Milky Way. A moment of stillness. Listening only to the coo of an owl and the breath of a dolphin.

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Sailing Notes

October 23

intracoastal not intercoastal. like internet vs. intranet (private/protected like what a bank would use)

ebb- water going out, flood- water coming in

when you are going around a bend the outer bank will be deeper. The water is going to resist turning so it will push against the outside, like a race track

when you open the sails you want to point toward the wind so you don’t get bunched up.

the halyard is the line that raises the sail

A sheet is a line that adjusts the sail. the main sheet is the line attached to the back of the boom

The boom is a type of spar that goes along the foot (bottom) of the sail. The thing that hits your head when the wind changes, causing a jibe.

a tell tail is a ribbon or string randomly tied to show the wind

the tide changes ever 6 hours or so. It is very predictable but varies day to day.

When the moon is over head the high tide will be higher

The orange markers with a vertical stripe are called range markers. They come in pairs of two and if they line up with each other then you are headed straight on the channel

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Sailing Notes

October 22

Today I learned some practical things that you think you know until you realize you don’t. Like freshening up on how to read maps/charts, longitude, latitude, mile vs. nautical miles (slightly longer), most of the intracoastal is manmade via dredging, how the currents changes (choosing the path of least resistance back to the ocean per the tides), how finicky the wind is and that you can only raise the sails if the wind is in your favor, give or take 45 degrees.

Also some terminology both useful and strange:

Ropes attached to a boat are called lines and the line attached to the anchor is called the road. Birth and Bridge can refer to areas inside the cabin. For example I am sleeping in the bow of the boat which we call the V birth. Buoys… these took me a second to get straight. Red buoys are conical and have even numbers and green buoys are cylindrical and have odd numbers (there is some kind of saying about nuns and cans). Returning from the ocean red buoys are on the right. But along the intracoastal green buoys are on the side closest to the ocean, so the orientation flips depending on the direction you are traveling. Running on iron means you traveled with a motor instead of a sail. Steam lights are the lights you have on when you are running your motor at night. (steam like a steamboat) “On the hook” means you are anchored

…And an array of other terms that we haven’t even gotten to yet. Something about a clue, a boom, and a word that starts with an H.

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October 22, 21:00

Finally anchored at 20:30 after running the iron sail (motor) all day against a cold wind and into the night, spotting some after math of hurricane Matthew here and there. No moon to light the way but the sky was full of stars. It’s been something like 12 years since we lived on the trawler (43 ft ocean Alexander named Lola) and anther 6 years since we’ve had a sailboat (La Tina). I wasn’t old enough then to really soak in knowledge of how to sail so it’s almost like sailing for the first time. The first half of my life since I was in the womb was spent on the water, but over time those experience have felt more and more like myth so I am looking forward to reliving them in a way.

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Oct 22, 18:30 
We have been traveling against the wind and current for about 4 hours now after spending the morning preparing the boat (new decals, anchor, lights, batteries, electrical). The sun is setting and we probably have about one and a half hours before we make it to our first anchor point. We have a tight schedule of 50 miles a day if we want to make it back by Halloween and we are only going to get 22 miles in today. With these conditions on just the motor we only make about 4 miles an hour…not ideal. Hoping the weather will allow us to rig up the sails soon so we can gain some real momentum.

We are approaching a bridge now and my mom is on the phone asking them to raise it. Going up to see the action…

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