Arrrrrr!

We are downbound on the Pamlico River, bound for the ICW and Belhaven, North Carolina. We had a pleasant few days up the Pamlico and got to spend some time with good friends, but now we need to be moving along to our next scheduled stop.

Vector dominating the T-head at the State Dock in Bath, NC. We stick out on both ends.

The remainder of our offshore passage was uneventful. I turned off the Ocean Data on the Starlink after we crossed the territorial limit, and we made Beaufort Inlet at close to max flood. We had the anchor down in a familiar spot off Fort Macon and the Coast Guard station (map) by 8:15 and enjoyed a well-earned beer.

Catching the sunset just as we arrive to Beaufort Inlet.

Tuesday morning after we were well-rested we moved just a mile and a half to a new anchorage for us, just south of Sugar Loaf Island in Morehead City (map). I had an Amazon delivery at the counter in town, and we figured to just spend the night here rather than dinghy over from Fort Macon and then move Vector to Beaufort, where we expected the anchorage to be quite busy.

The brew pub is still here.

For reasons unknown the NOAA tide station right at the Morehead City waterfront is just plain wrong, reporting that we were making our entry at low tide when it fact it was close to high. We've made a note to use the other two nearby stations instead when planning an arrival here. We had plenty of water in our chosen spot, so it was not an issue.

Tower 7 now on the Morehead waterfront. Jacks behind it.

We splashed the tender and I headed ashore to the free public dock and walked across the street to the nice chandlery where the Amazon counter was located. I picked up my package and then had a bit of a walk around town to reacquaint myself. I was pleased to find Tower 7 Baja Grill, a favorite of ours in Wrightsville Beach, has come in where the Ruddy Duck folded a couple of years ago, and that there were still a half dozen decent eateries in town. I ended at the mini mart for a half gallon of milk before heading home.

I never remember there is a nice Italian place in town until I run into it on my walk.

I was extremely disappointed to find they had sent me yet another 36v solenoid in a 24v box, again acing me out of finishing the charging system for the start battery. Giving up on this vendor, I went back to Amazon to find an alternate product on fast delivery, and this time I settled on a 12v model. I spent the next hour or so in the engine room rewiring the work I had already done to accommodate the change.

King Neptune on the dock at the Olympus Dive Center.

Afterwards I went back ashore for another walk, stumbled into a barber shop that I sorely needed, and after strolling the west end of town I crossed over for a quick walk on Sugar Loaf before heading home. I picked up Louise and we headed right back ashore for dinner at Tower 7, since we had missed it this pass in Wrightsville, landing at their own dock. It was decent but we both thought the other location was better. Lots of other choices in this town, too. We finished with a little stroll around town.

Dueling Piano bar, Morehead City.

Wednesday morning we weighed after the turn of the tide and had a decent push all the way to the Neuse. The Neuse was calm and we had a nice run all the way to Hobucken. Knowing we would be at the docks in Washington for a couple of days, I started calling divers; here in the calm water with virtually no tidal current I could really feel how much the marine growth was slowing us down. Right after passing under the Hobucken bridge we passed our old friend, the tug Pamlico, pushing yet another load of phosphate.

Passing Pamlico on one whistle in front of the Hobucken Coast Guard station.

We made the next possible right turn into Eastham Creek, a new spot for us, and dropped the hook in the only spot we could find that was free of pot floats yet not right in the middle of the channel (map). I grilled a nice steak for dinner. We saw only one other boat in the creek, maybe ¾ mile from us, and we had one of the darkest, quietest nights in some time. I went out in the evening to marvel at the stars.

A scooterist after my own heart, with a large succulent on the floorboards. We carry stuff this way all the time.

Thursday was a calm day on the Pamlico and we had a pleasant run upriver to Washington, which around here is known as Little Washington (to distinguish it from DC) or, as they like to tell the tourists, the original Washington, named for the President in 1776. We tied up at a spot along the free dock (map) after first running aground a hundred feet further west on the same face dock. Stacey and Dave met us on the dock, and dockmaster George and his wife Diana came by a short time later to say hello.

Vector in the anchorage as seen from Sugar Loaf Island.

We spent two nights on the free dock, the limit, and then moved over to a T-head with water and power for the next two nights (map). We needed the water and power anyway to get the laundry done and top off the tanks. I had figured to take one night, for a three-night stay, but the earliest the diver could get to us was Monday morning, and so we made it a more comfortable two. George put us on the same T-head with Stinkpot, where we had to back our swim step to about 18" from theirs, and our bow still stuck out 12' past the end of the dock.

The Washington dockmaster posted this photo of Vector with Stinkpot in the background. Photo: George Wunschel

It rained on and off for our entire stay, and when it was not raining it was muggy. We were glad to have the power for the AC during the worst of it, and we had to run the gen a bit to charge batteries at the free dock. The waterfront becomes something of a river when it rains, and one night coming back from dinner we had to wade through about three inches to get back to the dock.

Urban renewal, in the form of nice brick sidewalks everywhere, truncated this terrazzo business name, which outlived the business itself.

The rain kept us from offloading the scooters to get into the suburban shopping district, but we did get a Walmart delivery to restock the provisions. We also got our mail and a few Amazon deliveries by way of the office. I managed to walk every day in the gaps in the rain, usually with Dave and sometimes Stacey and Louise. Since our last visit they have completed the connection from the waterfront dock area to the raised boardwalk downriver of the North Carolina Estuarium.

I always love seeing this theater marquee in the evening.

Across the four nights we ate at some familiar venues: Down on Main Street, Fat Cats, and Ribeyes, and one night we had take-out from Angi's Mexican Kitchen aboard Stinkpot, with a growler of beer from Two Rivers Ale House. We also had lunch on our final day at the Dairy Palace just so we could finish with ice cream cones before shoving off.

It is duckling and gosling season and they were everywhere in Washington, along with their droppings. I caught this family just as they started across the river.

On the never-ending project front, Amazon delivered the 12v solenoid and I finished the battery charging project (it's been working well since we left the dock), and I made an attempt to repair my ancient Triplett analog VOM, of which I am quite fond. I also helped Dave with a couple of critical projects aboard Stinkpot that he could not complete with his right hand out of commission, to wit, replacing a rotted vent hose on a fuel tank that was sending diesel fumes into their stateroom, using my fuel transfer pump to purge the line from that tank so that it could be safely used, and reconnecting the tank to the fuel system wherein I broke a flare nut and then had to re-flare the line to get it all working. Dave had a flare tool and I had a miniature tubing cutter, and we needed both to get it done.

My Triplett 310. Volts are fine but ohms are not working. I will probably just sell it for parts, sadly.

Not quite a project, but just as much work, we spent a whole rainy day working on travel plans and reservations. Louise will be flying to California the second week in June, and she booked flights out of Norfolk and a rental car. The Norfolk marina we have booked for the second half of the month could not simply give us the preceding two weeks, on account of the annual Harborfest immediately prior to our scheduled dates.They could give us the two weeks before that, but we'd have to be out for those two days, with no nearby anchorage.

Another unscheduled project; the bearing on the helm chair self-destructed. This is the fourth one we've had.

We know from past experience that every marina in a ten-mile radius would be fully booked for Harborfest, and it did not make sense to come in for two weeks, run a couple of hours to a safe anchorage for two days, then come back, and so we started working on alternative plans. We ruminate for quite a while on me just staying at anchor someplace, maybe Hospital Point, while Louise is away for a week, but that has its own issues, including making the early-morning departure and late-evening return to and from the airport for Louise's flights more challenging and less comfortable.

I added this scrap of HDPE atop the sharp edge of the seat post years ago to protect the bearing. It helps, but only delays the inevitable.

In the end we decided we would dock the boat in downtown Norfolk for that week, and we were lucky to get a reservation for those dates. That now has us arriving to Norfolk on June 5 and departing July 5, for a nice round month, but with one week downtown and two weeks out in the boonies, with the intervening time at anchor. Among other things this would let us actually enjoy Harborfest this time, which will also include a flotilla of tall ships on their way to New York for the 250th Independence Day.

Stacey captured our departure from Little Washington.

Our reservation downtown has set the travel schedule for the next ten days, but it is a relaxed one. Yesterday and today's trip on the Pamlico and the crossing of Albemarle Sound are really the only two segments subject to weather, and we're leaving a buffer at the end in case we need to wait on the Sound crossing. We'll kill the time at that end at Great Bridge and Portsmouth, two of our favorite stops anyway.

That's a lot of rules, for pirates. "More what you'd call guidelines" I once heard. Registration forms are in the mailbox. 

Yesterday Josh the diver arrived first thing in the morning and spent over an hour cleaning our hull. His report matched our expectations: an extensive coating of mostly small barnacles on the hull and propeller. It's made a big difference; we've picked up half a knot or so. The dockmaster gave us a late checkout, and after lunch and ice cream we said our goodbyes and dropped lines for the little over two hour cruise to Bath.

Not the oldest church in Bath; this one dates to 1894. The oldest church in the state is a short distance away, dating to 1734, but I could not get a pic.

In the middle of that cruise the heavens opened and visibility dropped to less than a hundred yards; I ran the fog horn for a half hour. The boat got a good rinse, though. Fortunately it had tailed off to a light drizzle by the time we were turning into Bath Creek, where we made our way through the shallow harbor to the State Dock at Hardings Landing (map). We had sounded out the T-head on our last stop here and reasoned we could just make it with inches under the keel; at this water level we had a luxurious foot under keel once we were tied up.

The view from the helm just after I started the horn.

The torrential rain storm was a blessing, inasmuch as the dock was available at all on Memorial Day. We had already agreed we were not going to tender ashore from the anchorage in the rain, so the dock was key to getting ashore at all. After filling out the required permit form for the dock (free up to 72 hours) we grabbed our umbrellas and walked over to Blackbeard's Tavern for pizza and beer. Edward Teach lived here in Bath and the town has leaned in to its Blackbeard connection; the local school sports teams being, of course, The Pirates. The pizza was good and they had several drafts, but everyone in the joint knew we were from away.

Sign at Bonners Point. I could fill an album just with historical signs in Bath.

There was another downpour during dinner but it was again only drizzling on the walk home, and later when it stopped altogether I went out for a walk around Bonner's Point, with many historic homes, churches, and parks. This morning we both walked to the post office, the closest one we'll see until after Norfolk, wagon in tow, to ship off some of Louise's quilts.

Last night's sunset over Bath Creek, just before my walk.

The water level dropped four inches overnight, and we dropped lines to leave as soon as our errands were done, not wanting to risk it dropping much more. Tonight we will be in Belhaven harbor, our last civilization  until Great Bridge. Our next two nights will be at anchor in the Alligator and North rivers.

Update: We are anchored in a familiar spot in Belhaven harbor (map). I could not get all the photos loaded and captioned before we pulled in to the harbor. If the weather cooperates we will go ashore later for dinner.

Holy City, Batman

We are underway northbound in the Atlantic Ocean, crossing Onslow Bay and bound for the anchorage off Fort Macon, in the Beaufort-Morehead City North Carolina area. The plotter is predicting an arrival around 8:30pm, and we left Charleston around 9am yesterday morning, making for close to a 36-hour passage.

USS Yorktown at night from our anchorage. The red white and blue lights replaced the all white of our last visit, maybe for the Semiquincentennial.

Thursday after I posted we increased RPMs to be sure to make the North Edisto rather than settling for the South Edisto. We had a nice dinner underway and crossed the bar south of the main channel thanks to arriving at a tide of +6'. The ebb was just starting as we made our way through the inlet.

I caught this sunset as we were steaming up the North Edisto toward South Creek.

Not wanting to push against the current up to the familiar Bohicket Creek, we instead turned off at the first opportunity, into South Creek on Edisto Island. We dropped the hook at the first bend, a short distance from an anchored shrimper (map). It turned out to be a very pleasant and extremely calm anchorage and we had a quiet night. It was not dark; the shrimper had his deck lights on.

Cheers from Halls.

Friday we got an early start to catch the last of the flood up the North Edisto. That gave us a fair tide most of the day, including riding the ebb down the Stono and squirting through Elliotts Cut with 2.5 knots behind us, necessitating a Sécurité call. That elicited a response from a tug and barge, whom I had previously called directly to learn they'd come through well after our transit, telling us they were coming through ahead of schedule. We had to circle in the Stono for over 15 minutes, and I was mighty annoyed, but you can't argue with that much rusty steel. We rounded the battery and pushed against it up the Cooper to a familiar anchorage just off the USS Yorktown museum ship (map).

The mouthwash at Halls is easily distinguished from the monogrammed hand soap, unlike some yacht clubs which use nearly identical dispensers. Ask me how I know.

We splashed the tender at slack, and at dinner time we made our way across the harbor to the Charleston Maritime Center, where my first task was to fuel up the dinghy. After I bought two gallons of gas they waived the dinghy landing fee and we walked over to the Dash shuttle bus stop at the Aquarium. My app said we'd had a fifteen minute wait and we decided instead to just walk into town, where we scored the last pair of bar stools at Halls Chop House about ten minutes before their kitchen opened at 4pm. If you wait until dinner time the bar is full. We had our favorite bartender, Josh, and dined on the very reasonable bar menu.

I did my grocery shopping with the firefighters. That's the historic Bennett Rice Mill facade behind them.

We were out of lunch fixings, and so Saturday morning I tendered ashore for groceries. On my way I swung by a brand new set of docks we had noticed on our way upriver; I found them closed with "construction area" and "private dock" signs. They are attached to the also brand-new and recently opened Cooper resort hotel, on the site of what had been the tired brutalist home of the Ports Authority when we first started stopping here. The developer's web site indicated it would be a transient marina and water taxi landing; we will see how it shapes up.

In case you wondered what happens to all those wonky shopping cart wheels.

I once again landed at CMC and walked to Harris Teeter for the lunch items and also to score some Pluff Mud Porter before leaving the Holy City. After lunch I had to dinghy right back to meet the driver for our Walmart delivery, wherein I ended up waiting a half hour or so. CMC again waived our dinghy fee; I think they remember us from our several stays in Vector.

The historic ex-Corps of Engineers ship Robert Gray, now a private expedition charter, at the CMC dock. Shuttered tower in the background is the ill-fated Dockside condominium.

With good passage weather coming up, we spent quite a bit of time in the afternoon discussing passage options. From Charleston there are good outside runs to Georgetown, Little River, Cape Fear, and Beaufort. The timing is such, however, that each of those mandates a different departure time from Charleston, and so you really need to choose and commit to one. "Bailing out" can mean coming in in the middle of the night, or pushing against several knots of outgoing tide, or both. We decided the conditions were good enough for the full 36-hour run to Beaufort, which gets us around a lot of shallow water and high-traffic areas.

Daytime view of Yorktown. Even at this distance their aircraft collection is impressive.

At dinner time the harbor was so choppy from all the weekend traffic that I called the closer Charleston Harbor Marina to ask if we could tie up to eat in one of their restaurants. Unlike our last visit in November, when they directed us to an ungated dock free of charge, this time they wanted no less than $65 to tie the dinghy up for dinner. No thanks -- your restaurants are not that good. I think that might include the other resort amenities such as the pool, but we had no need.

We heard the CG talking to this fishing trawler who got their gear tangled with this ship channel buoy. They eventually freed themselves but earned a CG boarding inspection in the process.

Instead we bashed our way back across the Cooper and walked to the Big Gun Burger Shop & Bar. This is a dive with a pool table in the back and an all-local clientele, and we really enjoyed it, even with a limited menu and no draft beer. Afterward we walked next door to the College of Charleston where I had a package in an Amazon locker. When I pulled up the directions it said the locker was only available to CoC students (drat!) but it turned out not to be behind any kind of gate or even restrictive signage. We did walk right by it at first because it was in CoC livery rather than the traditional Amazon blue, yellow, or gray.

Local dive with excellent burgers and a large beer list.

On the way back to the dock we stopped in at the Saffron Bakery & Cafe for a couple of passage bagels and a piece of coconut cake for dessert to go. Both were disappointing, with the bagels more like bread and the cake a bit stale. The harbor was a tad less choppy on the return trip, and we decked the tender after it calmed down even more.

We popped into the College of Charleston bookstore while hunting for the Amazon locker.

Yesterday's ebb was forecast for 9:30, and I tried to sleep in, even staying up past 2 on Saturday, but my circadian rhythm was uncooperative. The tide was already turning by 9am, and we elected to weigh a little early and slow-roll out of the harbor to avoid outrunning it. Traffic was light, but I did notice the bulk carrier Batman (seriously) maneuvering in the harbor, inspiring today's post title. We passed at least five inbound sailboats on our way out, all of whom we running the middle of the ship channel (we always stay outside the ship channel in Charleston). Louise reported that before I got up, she had heard no fewer than three five-blast signals (how ships tell pleasure boats they are in the way).

Stowaway.

The item I had picked up at the locker was a replacement for the failed charging solenoid, and I had grand plans to brave the engine room heat and install that underway yesterday. But when I opened the box, clearly marked 24v, what I found was a solenoid marked just as clearly at 36v. I used my regulated power supply to test it; it's a 36v model. A replacement is on its way to Morehead city.

36v contactor in a 24v box. I took this pic for the return process.

Our passage has been strangely calm but at the same time very rolly, and it is difficult to move around the boat. I found it difficult to do my daily stretches and exercises, and Louise was hoping to sew but has been mostly foiled. We're looking forward to being in calmer waters tonight.

Last night's sunset over the Carolinas.

I am posting this courtesy of the opt-in, pay-per-GB "ocean data" on our Starlink terminal, the first time we've used the feature. On our previous international jaunts, the policy was different and the lines more fuzzy, and we just tolerated the short interruptions, but now there is a sharp cut-off at the limit of the terriotiral sea. Keeping our route inside the 12nm line on this passage would have added hours, and I think the extra diesel at today's prices would be more than the cost of the ocean data.

Best my phone could do with Jupiter and the new moon.

Making this outside passage has knocked five full days off our northing schedule. We're working our way to Hampton Roads to fly to Nevada for our niece's wedding, and before today we had a little over a two-week buffer. That is now three weeks, and we're looking at maybe arriving early so each of us can also fly for family medical issues ahead of the wedding. I'm waiting to hear if the marina has room, and the plan is still very fluid.

Pop-up passage

We are underway northbound in the North Atlantic Ocean, on an unplanned and somewhat unexpected passage. We should end up at one end or the other of Edisto Island at the end of the day, which will put us about a day from Charleston.

Monday morning we were up early, weighed anchor, and pulled up to the fuel dock at Port Consolidated at 7:45, fifteen minutes before they open. I did not want to take the chance that some sportfisher would jump in ahead of us. As it turned out, a shrimper wanting 30,000 gallons had an appointment for that spot at opening time; they are required to make advance arrangements because vessels holding more than 10,0000 gallons have a phalanx of extra regulations.

Spectacular sunset over Bells River from our anchorage in Fernandina Beach.

We had been prepared to cast off and move if need be when the attendant arrived, but he decided to go ahead and fuel us to get us out of the way altogether before the shrimper arrived. We bunkered an even 1,000 gallons and were off the dock at 8:30; their pump can deliver 50 gallons per minute. With the tax waiver and the cash discount we paid $4.48 per gallon, the lowest price on the east coast.

We whizzed out the St. Marys inlet with a knot behind us into calm seas. We had a comfortable passage to St. Simons, came in with the current again behind us, and were anchored in a familiar spot in the Frederica River off Lanier Island (map) by 3pm. We made arrangements with our friend John to meet us after dinner over at Coastal Kitchen for a beer; we tied the dinghy up at the marina just as they were closing at 5 and had a nice dinner. It was great catching up with John for 45 minutes before he needed to run off to a different dinner engagement.

Louise brought me these gifts from our niece, whom I am marrying next month, which I was not to open until I had her on the phone. I think the bobble-head is a remarkable likeness, and the personalized "Officiant" notebook is for my notes during the ceremony.

On our way to dinner we spotted brand new signs on the Gascoigne Park courtesy dock saying "No Mooring." Previously we could tie the dinghy up here for up to two hours, and I've used the dock many times to go for a walk ashore, or to ride the e-bike down to the grocery store for provisions (it's a nice walk but hard to make the trip in less than two hours). We were very disappointed to see this. On top of that, the adjacent county-owned, privately-managed marina is closed right now for dock replacement.

I posted my findings on a couple of online forums and was scolded by someone who called the parks department and was told that the signs were old and there was a two hour limit. Which made no sense since I could tell the signs were new since our last visit in December. It turns out that the county commissioners voted to close the dock after some inconsiderate boaters abused the privilege, had Public Works put up the signs, but neglected to inform the Parks department. We're hoping an outcry from boaters will have them rethink the policy.

Brand new No Mooring signs on the dinghy dock. Photo: John Samford

Tuesday morning we awoke to heavy winds and occasional light rain. Perfect conditions for us to move along, as these conditions keep many boaters off the waterway. We had to wait to 11:30 to weigh anchor so as not to arrive at the very shallow section through Little Mud River with insufficient tide.

Evidently a 62' Nordhavn had done just that, and as we approached Altamaha Sound we could see him circling. I called on the radio and offered to lead them through, but at that point we were doing 3.5 knots against the current and it was an hour before we caught up to them. We arrived with plenty of tide for us and just enough for them, and I think they were grateful to follow an experienced boat through the troublesome section.

After following us through the skinny stuff the Nordy overtook us. We only saw one other boat all day.

Once we crossed Doboy Sound we had a fair tide, and we opted to run all the way to dinner time, dropping the hook at 5pm in a new spot for us, on the Crescent River (map). It was still just as windy when we anchored as when we had weighed. We had a nice dinner on board.

Yesterday our plan had been to run up the inside, make Hell Gate with plenty of tide, and drop the hook someplace just shy of Savannah. I even reached out to friends in Hilton Head, with the expectation we'd be there for dinner this evening. Before we even made it to lunch time, Louise discovered that we would have a one-day window today to run up the outside.

Yesterday I disassembled the old fuel transfer check valve so I could recycle the body, a huge hunk of brass. Looking carefully at this poppet it's clear why the valve was leaking.

I started figuring routes, making plans to go out Ossabaw Sound this morning just before Hell Gate and run all the way to North Edisto. But the longer I looked at the chart, the more I realized that we could save a lot of twisting, turning ICW if we went out St. Catherines Sound instead, with the option to come back in at the South Edisto if we could not make the North Edisto in the daylight. I waved off with our Hilton Head friends, who are boaters themselves and understand that windows are windows.

I picked an anchorage in Wahlburg Creek that would be the closest spot to the St. Catherines inlet; getting to the anchorage usually involves backtracking to the creek from the sound after passing the shoal that blocks the direct entrance. But a bit more investigation revealed that, with careful navigation, we could enter the other end of the creek right off the ICW and avoid the backtracking altogether, so that's what we did.

St. Catherines buoy R-4 has been missing for a while. We found it aground off Wahlburg Creek, miles from its station.

We had the hook down in a comfortable spot in the creek (map) by 12:15, on a day we had figured to be underway until nearly dinner time. The sun broke through in the afternoon, topping up the batteries, and I grilled a steak for dinner without ever starting the generator. I used the afternoon to troubleshoot the new start battery charge system, which has already quit working. It turns out the contactor is bad.

This morning, high tide at the inlet was 6:30 but slack was not until 8. We split the difference, departing just after sunup at 6:40, pushing against the flood, and arriving at the bar at 7:45 with six feet of tide. We found the north gap lower than charted at about 9' MLLW, and were happy to have the tide to give us nine feet under the keel in the two-foot swell. The seas have laid down some while we've been out here and we are having a comfortable ride.

No one out here but us and the shrimpers.

Last night's showers were colder than expected, and this morning we discovered the new water heater loop was not heating. That turned out to be due to no engine coolant flow through the heat exchanger, so this old problem, supposedly solved by using a heat exchanger lower than the engine, is back. I spent a half hour in the hot engine room with a long sleeve shirt and rubber gloves getting the coolant moving again with a drill pump. We also rinsed out our waste tanks with seawater while we are outside the three-mile limit.

The plotter says 6:30 to the South Edisto, and it would be an hour and a half or so more to the North Edisto. Sunset is 8:30 and I would want to be well over the bar by then. We're missing a lot of shallow stuff out here, but if we come in at the south there is still more ahead. In either case, though, we should be in Charleston tomorrow.

Final night in Florida

We are underway northbound in the ICW, after a little over a week in Jacksonville. We have a little more relaxed pace now, with our next commitment in Norfolk at the end of June to fly to Nevada for our niece's wedding. We should cross the 31st parallel by the end of tomorrow, beating our insurance deadline by just under three weeks.

Vector at the enormous Riverfront Park dock, with the Allsop bridge in blue.

When last I posted here, I wrote that as yet Louise had no need to move her flights up, but that very afternoon she did exactly that, switching her outbound flights from Sunday to Saturday. That eliminated our one-day buffer to settle in to Jacksonville, but it was a short run. We tendered in to Palms Fish Camp for dinner and a short walk afterwards. They had a new beer for me on draft, Flying Squirrel Nut Brown Ale from the local Veterans United brewery, which was excellent.

Jacksonville is full of murals and other public art. This one, from a distance, looked 3D, but when I got close I could see it was 2D on a textured surface.

Friday we weighed anchor with the flood and were tying up at a familiar spot on the free downtown dock at Riverfront Plaza (map) by 12:40. Louise had plenty of time to pack and get ready, and I took a stroll around downtown to see what was new and different. Jacksonville is perpetually trying to reinvent itself, and downtown redevelopment has been ongoing the entire time we've been coming here.

This creek is near the end of a two-year daylighting project that will turn everything you see here into a public park. On this pass I spotted the fire department with a wire rigged over the creek, practicing water rescue.

At dinner time our friends Erin and Chris from Barefeet swung by in their car and picked us up to take us across the river to the City Grille for dinner. This place is walking distance from the south bank dinghy dock and I have been meaning to try it; it was fancier than I expected but very good.

Vector as seen from the elevated walkway of the new playground at Riverfront Park. The Friendship Fountain is across the river in the background.

Erin, who is an early riser, was very insistent on picking Louise up at 4am to take her to the airport, and Saturday morning I was up at 3:45 to walk her out to the corner. As I was coming  up the stairs I could hear her on the phone with Erin about a flight delay. It turns out American had texted her that her flight would be delayed by four hours, not what we wanted to hear so soon on the heels of missing our flights to the DR altogether.

This line of food trucks arrives every weekday to the plaza at the Vystar building to serve lunch to the downtown office workers.

Erin was already on her way, and Louise decided to just go to the airport at the scheduled time and see what she could do. After saying goodbye, I sat down at my computer and found a 5:45 departure to San Francisco that could easily stand in for her scheduled 6:20 to San Jose, and that's what she ended up doing. It meant moving her rental car reservation, and ultimately changing her return flights to match so she could get the car back. The pony in this pile was that she actually got money back as the SFO routing was a lower fare.

I ran into the First Wednesday Art Walk on my way out of Cowford's Chop House. I could have saved myself one dollar (really) by buying my burger from a food truck instead.

I tried unsuccessfully to go back to sleep, but I ended up just catnapping a couple of times. Saturday was rainy all day and I was mostly trapped on the boat, a good time to work on projects. I also had to run the generator a couple of times, but that would be the last time I would run it until after Louise returned; the new solar was able to meet all my needs the rest of the week, even heating the water for my showers. In keeping with the rainy day theme, Chris and Erin picked me up around 4 and we went to The Perfect Rack for a few games of pool (boy am I rusty) and a casual dinner. The Kentucky Derby came on the TV while we were eating.

Chris and I shooting pool at Perfect Rack. Photo: Erin Miller

The Kentucky Derby as seen from our table.

While Louise was taking care of business in California, I spent the next five days at the dock stag. There is technically a three-day limit, and I was prepared to move, but I did not want to single-hand the boat over to the anchorage unless I had to. I had the entire dock, all 1,000' of it (less a bit reserved for police and water taxi) to myself the entire time save for one night, when our friend Eric showed up on his trawler, Terrapin. We exchanged greetings but I already had evening commitments.

The filet mignon sliders (best deal in the house) at Morton's happy hour do not come with a side, so I ordered the house-made chips, which I thought were a little pricey. Sunglasses for scale. I took them home and we just finished them today. I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Stag I ate at Keane's Pub on Bay Street (not worth it), the bar for happy hour at Cowford's Chop House (excellent, and they had Duke's Brown from right next door on draft), and the bar at Morton's, also for happy hour (no drafts but excellent bites). One day I met up with friends Jill and Rudy from Briney Bug, who are settled in at a nearby marina, and they took me to European Street Cafe for lunch.

The rooftop bar at Cowford's. It was just too hot the day I was there and I ate at the main bar in the dining room instead.

Erin and Chris also swung by for dinner twice more. Once to whisk me to Indian food at a placed called Persis, something I only get to do when Louise is not with me. And once to go for a nice four mile hike on Cinco de Mayo out at Little Talbot Island State Park, which was to be followed by (what else) Mexican food at La Catrina. That was a pipe dream, as there was a two hour wait, and we ended up eating at the excellent KT's Pizza and Italian in the same parking lot.

Chris and I on our hike at Talbot. Erin wanted a shot with this post-apocalyptic tree. Photo: Erin Miller

I ended up twice at the waterfront Hyatt for a breakfast sandwich, once because I spotted the American Pioneer cruise ship at the adjacent bulkhead and I wanted to have a look. And in addition to several long walks around downtown, I took the Skyway out to the Amazon locker at the transit center twice, and one evening took the new NAVI autonomous transit service, just getting off the ground, out to Metropolitan Park to see how the docks and other projects are coming along.

American Pioneer at the dock. They have their own branded tour buses meet them. If you look closely you will see the fuel tanker bunkering them. We pass these guys on the ICW, and they use navigation tracks that I help create each year.

On the project front I spent most of the time designing, digging out parts for, and wiring up a solenoid to effect charging of the start battery while underway. Previously this battery was only charged by the generator, which was perfectly adequate when we were running it more or less every stop. The solar has changed that equation and we now need it to also charge from the main engine alternator.

New solenoid to bridge the start batteries to the house bank for charging. I tried to mount it vertically or horizontally but I could not find a way to do it with the bend radius of the 2/0 cables, so I finally just settled on this jaunty angle.

In the middle of that project I grabbed one of my meters to check a voltage that should have been around 12 and was aghast to see 30, which is in the normal range for circuits on a different system. I quickly learned that it was the meter itself that was the problem, and at a break in the project I went down the rabbit hole of diagnosing and trying to repair the meter. In the end I just bought a new one for an amount far less than the value of any more of my time trying to fix it. I really, really hate tossing electronics in the trash, though.

Just as a 12vdc circuit read 30v, this 120vac circuit is reading 300v. The meter is done.

Our anniversary came and went while we were apart, and Google Photos saw fit to remind me we were here on our anniversary exactly five years ago. It also reminded me that, also on that day five years ago, I replaced the saloon flooring while we were at the nearby docks in Metropolitan Park (those docks are closed for construction right now). I have to say the flooring has held up pretty well for five years.

One morning these bike cops were gathered outside the boat and staring at it. Turns out they were just admiring it, and expressed that they were happy people were using the dock.

Thursday night Louise returned, after another ride-share hiccup that had her waiting at the airport an extra 40 minutes, when she was already exhausted. In hindsight I should have asked Chris and Erin if I could borrow the car, but I did not want to park it on the street overnight. Not that I have seen any sort of issues down here. I walked out to the street adjacent to the Performing Arts Center to be there when she got back.

My ride on NAVI, which for now are Ford E-Transit vans with autopilot hardware, to be replaced at some point by Holons. The attendant is there to operate the wheelchair lift, but can also take control as needed. They are still working the bugs out and the units brake abruptly fairly often.

Friday we dropped lines with the tide and made the short one-hour cruise upriver to the Florida Yacht Club and tied up (map) for our free night. We needed to do laundry and top up our water, and it was nice to have air conditioning as the temperature and humidity have been creeping up. Erin and Chris met up with us one final time, whisking us off to Moon River Pizza for one final get-together. They swung us by Publix on our way home for a few essentials.

Jax Fire stopped at the dock for a bit and they chatted me up on their way out.

The club is now finished with their extensive renovations and it's all very nice. We did not use any of the amenities on this visit, but at just a dollar a foot for reciprocal members, this is where we would tie up if we both needed to fly out of JAX at the same time. We popped inside to look at the final part of the renovation, a casual dining and bar venue adjacent to the pool. We got a late checkout Friday, had a nice walk, and availed ourselves of the in-slip pump-out before dropping lines.

The new docks at the Metropolitan Park Marina, which is now adjacent to the almost complete Four Seasons Residences. They are still running utilities but the docks might be open this summer.

We just went the hour back downriver to Jacksonville, dropping the hook in our usual spot near the Baptist Hospital (map). Our plan had been to tender to any of the several city docks and have dinner, most likely at a nice Mexican place in Brooklyn that we like. But it was starting to rain as we set the hook, and it rained all evening, so we just stayed aboard and ate the half pizza we had brought home from Moon River the night before.

Dora the robot vacuum was in the pilothouse cleaning when I heard her cry out from the saloon. I found her like this, teetering on the brink of the companionway. I'm glad she got stuck and did not just plummet off the precipice to her doom.

This morning we weighed with the tide for the run back downriver to the ICW and then north. We've had a fair tide most of the day, although we are now pushing against the flood here in our last few miles to the anchorage.

Historic Shrine temple, the oldest in Florida, now an office building.

Update: We are anchored in a familiar spot at the junction of Bells River and the Amelia River, in Fernandina Beach (map). We are well-positioned to hop over to the nearby Port Consolidated fuel dock in the morning; we are down to our last 55 gallons. In consideration of Mothers Day and its attendant restaurant crowds, we tendered ashore right away for dinner at Mezcal Spirit of Oaxaca on Centre Street, a favorite of friends Dorsey and Bruce. It was quite good and we had no trouble getting a table when we arrived. It was full on our way out.

This house here in Fernandina has a whimsical collection of carousel horses interestingly displayed.

Tomorrow morning we will bunker fuel and then head north to St. Simons. If the forecast holds, we will be able to go up the outside. From St. Simons we will be inside at least as far as Savannah.