Grieving at the helm

I don't want to blog today. My heart is not in it. But I know if I wait, it will only get harder. We're underway today, northbound in the ICW between Daytona and St. Augustine; I'm not really wanting to drive, either, but it's what we need to do.

Thursday evening our niece Charis passed away, after a daunting battle with cancer. She was 34 years old. She leaves behind three small children and a grieving husband, who must be overwhelmed. She is also survived by her sister, brother, parents, and grandparents -- my in-laws.

Our niece Charis. Photo: Andrew Hornor

My avuncular relationship with Charis was remote at best. She was very nearly an adult when I entered her life, and we were never close geographically. Our lives intersected at only a few points, at milestones like our wedding and hers, a couple of fly-by's when we were in the bus, and exactly one family Christmas. I can count the times on one hand. Louise intersected more, but not by much.

And yet we remained connected, as families do when separated by distance. We celebrated her milestones like entering and graduating college. Louise made baby quilts as each of her children came into the world. Last year's news of inoperable cancer was a gut punch, and, in a way, we have been grieving here for a long time.

Vector anchored off the Titusville Causeway.

Our hearts are breaking for her children, who can't possibly fathom why their mother has been taken from them, and her husband, who must soldier on, and her parents, who should never have to bury a child. Our nephew and other niece are each raising families of their own, and their loss is profound.

We are awaiting word on a date for the funeral in Colorado Springs. In the meantime, we need to be moving the boat toward a place where we can secure it and get on a plane to be there. From here, that will either mean diverting to Jacksonville, three days from here, which was not in our plans this pass, or speeding up a little to Savannah in about a week. Both airports have non-stops to Denver, or single connections to Colorado Springs. That decision will be driven by the actual date, and the availability of both flights and docks.

Whimsical sign near Pier 220's tiki bar.

Catching up since my last post, we lingered at the dock Wednesday morning to take advantage of the utilities and have full batteries past dinner. It was a five-hour slog to Titusville in 25 knots of wind, which we feared would pin us on the boat at dinner time; we tucked in as far as we could behind the causeway and dropped the hook (map). By nightfall there were at least four other boats with us.

The wind let up just enough for us to tender to the park docks and have dinner at Pier 220, which was surprisingly busy. We had a nice walk through the park before heading home and decking the tender. In the morning we joined the conga line of northbound boats, heading through the shallow section at the north end of the Indian River Lagoon, through the Haulover Canal, and the seemingly endless Mosquito Lagoon.

SeaTow has been working to remove all the sunk Daytona derelicts from the last storm. This trio was just pulled out this week.

We once again sailed right past New Smyrna Beach and made the two mile detour off the ICW for the anchorage in Inlet Harbor at Ponce de Leon Inlet (map), adjacent a very popular sandbar. This time we decided to forego the rum bar in favor of the closest place, Down the Hatch, right across the channel from the anchorage. The sandbar is growing and we had to first re-anchor after I sounded our swing circle on the way out. The place was bit nicer than the typical waterfront tiki joint. We had a short stroll after dinner.

We left the tender in the water, since, with a short day to Daytona, I thought I might go ashore to the lighthouse in the morning. But we awoke to the aforementioned news, which had come in on Louise's phone after she had turned in for the night. Instead we spent the morning in place, crying, hugging, texting, and considering our options for travel.

Jackie Robiinson Ballpark. The minor league Tortugas games are popular.

We had to make our next stop regardless, at the Halifax River Yacht Club in Daytona, where our mail and some other packages were waiting. We decked the tender and weighed anchor with the tide for the short trip upriver. I had to start a fresh log book, our third volume since starting out over a decade ago. We were tied to the docks (map) right at lunch time.

That gave me all afternoon to work on docks, flights, transportation, and hotels, so that we could at least know where we were headed and how fast we'd have to move. I did make time to rinse the boat and also take a walk out to the end of the city marina and back. We had a casual dinner at the club's poolside tiki bar and a stroll through downtown. Later I did a circuit around the very popular ballpark, where a Daytona Tortugas game was in progress.

Downtown Daytona is festive at night.

This morning, having determined our two options were Jacksonville or Savannah, we topped up our water and made ready to continue north. That has us driving the ICW on the weekend, never our first choice. We walked over to Serra Doce in town for a breakfast sandwich, our last chance to stretch our legs today, and dropped lines at checkout time. That will have us arriving to the Matanzas anchorage at dinner time, and we have some chicken for the grill. 

We have two days to the St. Johns River, where we need to have made a decision between the two airports. When next you hear from me, we'll have our travel arrangements and will be well on our way to an undisclosed dock for the flight.