New Smyrna anchorage to Titusville Marina. Distance 27 nm/Time: 4 hrs
This started out as a very blustery day right out of the anchorage, winds coming out of the east at 20 knots, gusting to 30. Last night’s forecast had called for these, so they weren’t a surprise, but they stressed me out nonetheless because it was likely going to make getting into the Titusville Marina fuel dock and then my slip very challenging, if not hazardous.
Although it was only a 4-hour day, it seemed much longer. The temperature wasn’t cold in and of itself, but the winds made it feel so. Because the ICW opened way up along this route (or at least the land surrounding the ICW did), there was usually a large fetch from the direction of the wind, causing 1 1/2′ – 2′ waves in the ICW. In fact, more than once the waves smacking against the side of the hull splashed water on me in the cockpit!
And, once again, the autopilot was not up to the task of keeping up with the wind gusts and the currents, forcing me to hand-steer all day.
Immediately after weighing anchor, while the ICW was still a bit protected and the autopilot able to hold a heading at least long enough for me to get up to the bow and back, I rigged dock lines all around teh boat and posted my fender and fender boards. With that done, all I had to do before pulling into the marina would be to take down my solar panels, but I always waited till much closer to do that because when down they significantly restricted my visibility.
Nothing much to say about the trip except that it was tedious and tiring, full of big, wide-open, boring sections of wind-blown ICW.
As I got within about an hour of Titusville, I looked over the marina diagram I had downloaded.
I knew that I would be in slip D138 and had confirmed with the marina that it would be a starboard side “to” if I nosed in. That slip faced southeast. With an easterly wind, that meant that the wind would be pushing me mostly toward the finger pier on my starboard side and a bit backwards. That was actually pretty good–much better than the winds pushing me away from the pencil pier toward an adjacent boat. And much better than driving my bow forward into the main dock which would require me to reverse, with the resultant prop walk pulling me away from the finger pier. (The only better case would be either no wind, or best, the wind out of the southeast directly off the bow.)
But the fuel dock was another story. While getting onto the dock would be the same as getting into slip D138 (The fuel dock also ran SE/NW), getting off the dock would be the problem. Twenty knots of wind would pin the boat against the dock, making it extremely difficult to get off in a way that didn’t damage the boat or other boats that happened to be at the fuel dock at the time.
I decided to call the marina to confirm my slip, let them know my ETA, and get their thoughts about the fuel dock. They confirmed slip D138, said to call them when approaching the marina’s channel and they’d have dockhands to handle my lines. They also said that they did not recommend going to the fuel dock today. So, once again I’d likely have to fill up my main tank with my Jerry cans. Oh, well.
If anything, the winds had picked up some during the day, and as I approached the marina, I started getting nervous about the docking. Just as I was about to turn west off the ICW into the short, narrow, and very shallow channel to the marina, I realized with dread that I had forgotten to take down my solar panels! This typically takes about 10 minutes with a working autopilot, but mine was useless. There was simply no time, but somehow, by quickly moving back and forth between the starboard solar panel and the wheel a number of times, I managed to get at least the starboard side panel stowed as I turned into the marina channel. I hoped that side would be enough since I would be starboard side in my slip.
I called the marina on the radio as they had directed, and they replied that they were sending someone down to D138 to assist. From the diagram, this appeared to be a relatively easy slip to identify and get to. It was only four slips away from the fuel dock on the same pier, and coincidentally only two slips away from where my boat was when I purchased it here in 2021. Yet, as I approached the marina, it was obvious that the slips here were tighter together than any marina I had been to yet. Not only were the slips narrower, but so were the fairways in between the docks. To get there, I had to make a 90-degree turn to port toward the fuel dock, then quickly a 90-degree turn to starboard into the fairway, then quickly a 90-degree turn to port into my slip. As I exited the channel, D dock came into view, but it didn’t seem like the fourth slip was empty. All I could see was boat after boat. I slowed as much as I could to get my bearings, thinking that something must be wrong. Then I received a call on their handheld radio from the dockhands saying that they were standing by at D138. I looked again at where I thought it should be, and I could see, above a boat in between us, a pair of waving hands. But it sure didn’t seem like there was any room for a boat there!
Figuring they wouldn’t be waiting there if there weren’t an empty slip I continued but realized, as I made my second turn down the fairway, that the fairway was so narrow I doubted I could turn around if it turned out to not be empty. Even as I was abeam the fuel dock–only four slips away–I still could not see the empty slip! That is how narrow they were.
Finally, I could see it, and boy, did my blood pressure go up. This slip was not designed for a boat with my beam, that’s for sure. Not any room for error. But somehow, with a touch of reverse/prop walk and good timing on my turn, I made it perfectly into the slip while the two dockhands retrieved the lines I had hanging over the lifelines for them. It definitely helped that there was not nearly as much wind in the marina as in the channel, and what there was came from a favorable direction. But I still was proud (or perhaps relieved is a better word!) of the job I did. In fact, both dock hands complimented me on my driving, saying that all the other boats that had come in today had been a shit show. (Their words.)
As has always been the case when coming into a marina, it is very stressful for me because a boat such as mine, with a single propellor and a full keel is very unmaneuverable. If everything goes right on the first try, it works, but if there is a miscalculation–sometimes not even a big one–and it doesn’t happen on the first try, it all falls apart (i.e., the “shit show”). The boat can get itself into a situation (pinned against a dock or another boat) that it can’t get itself out of. This can not only cause damage to the boat or others, but the docks, too. It can also be very embarrassing, of course.
I have definitely been getting better. When I watch others come in with similar types of sailboats, or even sailboats that are more maneuverable, often with more experienced crews, I realize that I actually do pretty well. I think it’s my understanding of physics combined with my piloting experience, but I realize I do have a better understanding of what should be done than most. However, I am very aware that an unexpected gust of wind, a simple mistake with the gear shift or throttle, a cross current, or just being tired can cause me to end up in the above scenario. So, even though I’m getting better, and even though I have always gotten safely and without damage into all my marina slips so far (albeit always with the invaluable help of dockhands), once the lines are on and the boat is secure, I’m so relieved that I feel high for about two hours afterwards!
That was certainly the case here, especially since I hadn’t even slept well the night before because of the anxiety of docking in the winds that were forecast. So, I felt not only very relieved, but suddenly nostalgic because this marina is where I bought Serendipity and had her for a month (mostly living aboard) before moving her around the Keys and over to St. Pete Beach.
I had another nice surprise, too! As I was walking past the outdoor lounge, who should I see inside but the Juulsgaard family! I had met Mikkel, Camilla, Villum, Georg, and Soes back in June at Beaufort, NC, and then we overlapped a few days in July in Oriental before they headed way further north than I ever got. I kept track of them and noticed, after returning to New Bern from Ohio that they were anchored right across the Neuse River off downtown New Bern. I decided that as soon as I got my dinghy fixed, I would scoot over there and say hi. But, when that happened and I checked again, they had already departed south. 🙁 So, it was great to run into them unexpectedly here in Titusville. Unfortunately, as I was heading over to the other side of the state, we didn’t get to do much more than catch up. They were heading over to the Bahamas, and then back to Denmark across the Atlantic. Quite the cruising family!
