I’m up at dawn, quick breakfast, and off we go to Ponce Inlet and the Atlantic. Depending on the weather I could head to Brunswick, Georgia, or Charleston, SC. I won’t know for sure until I see what kind of speed we are making. We make it out Ponce at 8:30, the winds are 10 to 15 gusting to 18, perfect sailing weather. I set the sails and engage the autopilot, I go below to get my computer ready for the overnight sail, I like to have OpenCPN running on the laptop in the nav station and have an AIS guard band and an off-course alarm in case I doze off. I also have the radar running on the iPad with a 2 ½ mile alarm band for those occasions that a boat isn’t transmitting any AIS data. When I try to set up the laptop, I find that the keyboard is not working, I suspect that the out-of-control marina female broke my keyboard when she threw the duffel bag with my computer in it to the ground. But the Laptop is a Microsoft Surface, it’s a laptop and tablet in one, so I can use a touchscreen keyboard until I buy a new one.
I’m averaging 5 ½ to 7 knots headed almost due north, at this rate Brunswick will be around a 26-hour sail, I’ll see how I feel in the morning about stretching it to Charlestown. The cities of North-East Florida just tick by overnight, Daytona Beach, Palm Coast, St. Augustine, Jacksonville, I’m tired and getting more tired, so Charlestown is just too far away, my goal is Brunswick.
I’ll be crossing the Jacksonville inbound and outbound shipping channels in the middle of the night and of course, it’s pitch black with no moon out. I’ve crossed these channels before and there are lots of huge container ships and US Navy ships coming and going at all hours. I want to make sure I’m seen on their radar so we don’t have any unexpected interactions. I remember hearing all the ‘Security, Security, Security’ announcements on channel 16 every time I sailed close to a big harbor, they came from Cruise Ships, Tankers, and Freighters. Basically, it is an announcement that something is happening and you need to pay attention. For me tonight, I’m tired and I want as little Bull Shit to deal with as possible… so, I conceive of my own Security announcement when I begin to cross the channels. I know all these ships have AIS and I can see all of them on my navigation equipment, but I just need to make sure they know that I’m out here. At 1:15 am I make my first announcement that goes something like this; ‘Security, Security, Security, Aine a 32-foot sailboat which is at (GPS coordinates) on a northbound course and averages 5 to 5 ½ knots is entering the Jacksonville-St, John’s River inbound shipping channel from the south. Aine will continue on this course until it exits the shipping channel in approximately 53 minutes. All interested parties can contact Aine on channel 16. Aine out’. I made the announcement and never heard another thing on the radio and never saw another ship. I made the same announcement about 20 minutes later when I entered the outbound shipping channel (inbound and outbound are two different channels). The really interesting thing this time is that when I made the second announcement a US Navy Destroyer had just exited the St. John’s River (Jacksonville, Mayport) and was headed for the Outbound channel. He probably wouldn’t have come close to me if he stayed on his course, but 2 minutes after the announcement the Destroyer made an abrupt turn south, until she was below my position, turned east, going below me, and then turned northeast returning to her original course. How cool is that? Thanks, Captain.
I made good time overnight and made the turn into the approach of St. Simon Sound around 9:00 am and by 11:00 I’m dropping anchor just behind Jekyll Island (I’ve been here before). It is a beautiful day, it’s sunny, the temperature is in the mid-80s, and there is a slight breeze with low humidity, just perfect. I’m beat, I secure the boat cabin and go up to the cockpit to look around, visually marking my location at anchor, and looking at the buoys near me. I see a few other boats, fishing around me and decide to lie down and rest my eyes for a few minutes before going below and making lunch.
I wake up and start thinking about what I’m going to make for lunch, I look at my watch and it is 3:30 pm. Holy Shit, I’ve been asleep for 4 ½ hours, I look around as I awoke and I notice that I don’t recognize anything. Kind of a Twilight Zone feel, I’m looking for other boats and see none, I see a bridge and I didn’t see a bridge before. I look for the buoys that I made a point of anchoring around, a close green and red a bit further and a range close by. I see buoys, but they are in the wrong order. Seriously, I’m looking around trying to recognize stuff and there is nothing I recognize, it’s a little bit freaky. Finally, I look at the chart plotter which is still turned on in the cockpit and I remembered that I was anchored near green 48, I look at the buoys closest to me… none of them are green 48, how can this be. Is this some kind of alternate dimension? I move the map to the entrance to St. Simon sound, then I move along the line I came in on, past the fishing pier, then by the range, and finally, I find Green 48… I zoom out until I see my present position, I’m 3 ½ miles from where I anchored. What the… How in the hell did I get here? Someone boarded the boat while I was asleep and moved it, now that’s absurd. It floated… I floated for 3 ½ miles while I slept in the cockpit, how in the hell did I let that happen? Then it hit me like a ton of bricks, the tidal range here (how much water comes in and goes out, high tide to low tide) is 8 – 10 feet. I knew that from the last time I spent the night here. I looked at the tide chart and I came in at low tide, I set the anchor for what is called a lunch hook (short anchor line because you’ll be moving soon) with a 3:1 scope. The water depth was 5 feet under the keel and set out 15 feet of chain. The tide rose while I was sleeping, lifting the anchor off the bottom and allowing the boat to float with the prevailing current and winds. I wound up in an area of no current and little wind where the anchor hung off the bow and just barely touched the bottom. I never hit anything, I never ran aground, no one ever blew a horn (that awoke me), and I never should have been this lucky. I raised the anchor, started the engine, and motored back to the place I first anchored, this time I put out 50 feet of chain.
I have to say I’m starting to get a little concerned that I’m missing things that I normally catch… the sailing gods have been kind to me over the past week, and I don’t want to press my luck. As a cautionary measure, I’m going to head from here to Hilton Head inside so that I can string at least 2 good nights of sleep together and make sure my melon is well-rested. Tomorrow, ICW to HH. I make a good dinner and go to bed early.