Florida!

We are under way southbound in the Atlantic Ocean, just coming up on the entrance to the St. Johns River as I begin typing. Last night was our first in Florida since leaving northbound back in May, yet it was still in the 30s when we awoke this morning. We may be in Florida, but we're not yet far enough south for comfort.

The holiday tree on the Fernandina waterfront. Louise is standing in front of it - I promise.

Monday we weighed anchor and motored the three miles back across the middle ground and up the Frederica River to the designated Special Anchorage south of the ten foot fixed bridge leading across Lanier Island to St. Simons Island, where we dropped the hook (map). Just upriver of the anchorage is a large marina popular with transiting snowbirds.

After lunch we splashed the tender, and I loaded up the e-bike and headed ashore at the Gascoigne Bluff Park, which has a free dock. We could easily tie Vector up here (for day use only), but it would have been a long way around the other end of Lanier Island. I loaded the dinghy fuel tank into my basket and rode the two miles to the grocery store and loaded up on provisions, including two five-liter boxes of Merlot.

Sunset over Brunswick from our anchorage on the Frederica. Sailboat at left was our only neighbor.

The gas station was just a few doors from the grocery and on the way back to the dock, and it appeared to be open when I passed it on my way in. But when I arrived, the dispensers were off, and a paper sign in the window said "temporarily closed." Drat. I had to ride another half mile in a different direction to the next closest station. No big deal but it meant being later than promised getting home, delaying a phone meeting Louise had pre-scheduled.

Winds had been 15 gusting to 20 when I left Vector, and while I was filling the gas tank, a big gust blew the bike over with a loud crash. Of course, the bag with the most delicate groceries, including a dozen eggs, had been hanging from the handlebars, since I can't cram them in the backpack and the basket was occupied. By some miracle, only two eggs broke completely, which I tossed before leaving the station. It didn't do the bananas any favors either, and a piece cracked off of my basket as well.

Passing the wreck on our way out. They've lowered the hoists on the VB-10,000 for some reason.

I made it back to the dock without further incident, zipped back to Vector, and we got the groceries disinfected and stowed before Louise made her call. One of the remaining ten eggs was cracked, but intact enough to make it to the morning.

In the late afternoon we both tendered over to the marina and walked to the on-site restaurant, Country Kitchen, where we were happy to find a table on their well-protected deck that was completely in the lee, as the wind was still howling. We even got a bit of warmth from an overhead heater ten feet away. High-end southern food, with white tablecloths indoors. We had the outside seating to ourselves save for one other couple, forced to sit outside on account of their dog.

Massive submarine base. Motor yacht at right is entering their security zone and will soon have an armed escort.

Yesterday we had a leisurely morning, decking the tender before a mid-morning departure down the ICW on a rising tide. We never do the stretch inside Jekyll Island, one of the narrowest and shallowest on the entire ICW, but the outside weather was uncooperative, and with an eight foot tide swing and a known-good track, we only had to wait for enough tide. Of course I'd end up meeting the towboat Miss Jenny pushing a spud barge right in the worst section, but he graciously pushed up against the bank in a small wide spot and waited for us to pass by.

The inside route brought us into and then back out of St. Andrew Sound, and we had mostly favorable current all the way to the Crooked River at Kings Bay. Here is found the Naval Submarine Base Kings Bay, which I am sure you can imagine takes security very seriously. The ICW here actually cuts across a corner of the security zone, and we could hear the Navy patrols calling each boat ahead of us in turn to instruct them to keep to the far side of the channel and that they would be shadowed through the zone.

Best I could do to get a distant shot of a sub in the pens.

We arrived at the base at a tide of +6' and rising, which is more than enough water to take an alternate channel that bypasses the security zone entirely, and so that's what we did. The chart says the channel has a hump that is six feet deep at low water, but it was actually deeper than that, and we could use this channel pretty much any time other than dead low. Nevertheless, the boat behind us, with shallower draft, chose the marked ICW route and had to travel with a heavily armed escort.

Festively lit downtown. You can just make out the tree at the end of the block.

We continued a couple of miles past the St. Marys river to Fernandina, Florida, where we dropped the hook in the Amelia River directly across from the city marina (map). It's been years since we've been here, as the marina has been closed since it was destroyed by Hurricane Matthew back in 2016. They just re-opened this season.

Apart from being flanked by a pair of belching paper mills, Fernandina is a cute down, with a lovely main street and dozens of eateries, along with a number of shops, to include a nice hardware store. If the weather was warmer or it was not a pandemic, we'd have stayed a few days to enjoy more of it. But it's in the 40s at dinner time, and few places are even serving outdoors now.

Fernandina at night as seen from our deck. Too blurry to make out the tree and other lights, but it was a nice backdrop in person.

Nevertheless we tendered ashore to the $4-per-day dinghy dock at the new marina, insulated pizza bag in tow, to stroll the town and pick up a pie at Arte Pizza. Although the marina bills itself as open till 6:30, we found all the doors locked and no one around to take our four bucks. We enjoyed our stroll around town while our pizza was being made, and it was mostly still warm when we got it back to the boat. It was quite good.

We've been eyeing this upcoming outside weather window, and when Louise's evening weather check confirmed it was still good, we hoisted the tender after dinner for an early departure. This morning we whizzed out the St. Marys inlet with over two knots behind us, and we have enough daylight to make St. Augustine comfortably. The plotter is predicting arrival at our usual anchorage in Vilano Beach by 4:30, although we'll likely have some current against us in the inlet.

This morning we passed the RoRo USNS Red Cloud anchored off Mayport. If you look closely you might see a large motor yacht as deck freight on the foredeck; I'd love to know the story behind that.

St. Augustine is, of course, still not far enough south. But we're content to make day hops right now as we continue to work our way south. Before anyone asks: no, we still don't know where we're headed. To paraphrase Potter Stewart, we'll know it when we see it. While the Bahamas is open to cruisers, that seems unnecessarily risky to us, and so I imagine we will be orbiting south Florida for the season.