No Rest for the Weary

Distance 46 nm/Time: 8.5 hours

So, what was supposed to have been a tranquil day of rest alone in a beautiful anchorage instead turned into another long, exacting, tiring day in the ICW. Of course, there were also some very beautiful places along the way.

I slept in till around 8 am, then woke and fixed some breakfast, only to have my phone started getting text-bombed by Sean Motta and Nicholay. Sean has been keeping a fatherly weather eye on us–me heading northbound, and Nicholay heading for Guatamala. He is a very experienced offshore sailor and has been very generous in sharing with us his valuable expertise by providing weather advisories and routing suggestions. He and Nicholay were discussing the latter trying to find a weather window to leave the Dry Tortugas for the offshore passage across the Gulf of Mexico to Isla Mujeres on the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico (from where he would turn south for Guatamala).

Sean was also texting to inform me that an area of weather forming near the Bahamas that had previously had little chance of development was now looking a bit more “promising” and was heading straight for northeastern Florida/Southeastern Georgia. There was a chance for winds up to 35 knots and lot of rain hitting the coast Friday or Saturday.

That changed things. I had been thinking of my next marina stop being Brunswick, Georgia, or perhaps Charleston, SC, the closest a few days out. I wouldn’t be able to make either one before this weather hit (if it came to fruition). But then I remembered Fernandina Beach, FL. The next day I was planning to anchor just south of the city, but I might be able to get a slip for a couple of nights at the city marina instead, leaving today so I wouldn’t caught in the weather if it hit Friday.

But, I also needed my anchor roller. I didn’t want to pay the expense of staying at a marina if I couldn’t also receive my roller in time (because that meant I’d have to book another marina at Brunswick or Charleston to receive the roller). Having previously determined that Defender (a nautical parts supplier) was the only place that had what I needed, I called them to see if they would be able to deliver the roller to Fernandina Beach by Saturday. They assured me they could (for a $30 overnight shipping fee, of course). So I reserved two nights at the marina in Fernandina and ordered the part. Then I set about quickly readying the boat to depart.

I needed to get going ASAP because it was going to be a long day in the ICW, and I did not want to arrive at the marina after dark. My navigation app said it would take 9 hours, but that was always dubious because you could never tell how the currents were going to affect you, in this part of the ICW especially.¹ That meant if I could get underway by 10 am (it was now 9 am), I would be there around 7 pm–before dark, but after the marina closed. That meant I wouldn’t have any help getting into the slip, which really stressed me out. But, having just had the wild night at anchor in winds that were 22 knots, I really wasn’t in the mood for 35 knots while on the hook, and desperately needed the anchor roller, so off I went.

I had made the slip reservation through the third-party company that the marina used (“Snag-a-Slip”). They quickly took my information and money, and since I was going to be arriving after hours, said that they would inform the dock master who would give me a call sometime during the day to let me know my slip assignment, where to pick up the keys to the laundry, bathrooms, etc.

I weighed anchor exactly at 10 am, left the anchorage and turned north into the ICW. It was a gorgeous morning with the sun out and the blue water contrasting beautifully with the deep green the trees and the marshes were radiating. I was a little disappointed to be leaving such a beautiful anchorage and losing my day of rest, but this seemed to be the logical move. I should be able to get a couple days of rest in Fernandina Beach.

The day was very long, but mostly pretty. It was the same route that Nicholay and I had traveled–in the opposite direction–in December. I was surprised at how many curves and bridges and stretches I remembered. It was much more comfortable and pretty with the sun out; in December it had been mostly overcast and gloomy.

It started out all marshes and islands, many with occasional deciduous trees for a change.

Then there was a very long, narrow, straight stretch of shoulder-to-shoulder houses, each with a dock extending into the ICW, only feet away from the channel.

My autopilot was working well, and I found myself able to walk up closer to the front of the boat away from the sound of the engine and sit sideways facing the beautiful homes for long periods of time. It was very enjoyable.

There was also scenery reminiscent of the Miami/Fort Lauderdale super-swanky mansions lining the ICW…

And even boat yards where the ICW crossed the St. Johns River in Jacksonville.

From an objective standpoint, it was a beautiful day. There were also some quite challenging parts where shoals had reduced the navigable width of the ICW to only a couple dozen feet, requiring meticulous navigation. But what put a sort of damper on the day for me was the lack of responsiveness from the Fernandina Harbor Marina.

I had made the reservations at about 9:30 am, but it was now 1 pm and I had not received the promised call from them. There was going to be a knot and a half northerly current when I arrived, and the winds were still blowing 20-25 knots out of the east, so this was not necessarily going to be an easy docking. The only good thing was that the docks were all “alongside” docks, meaning parallel parking. Looking at the map of the marina, this was likely because of the strong current that passed through it. Trying to turn into a slip with a side current was a recipe for disaster, so they had built the marina with long docks paralleling the current. I decided to call the marina directly, but only got voicemail, so left a detailed message requesting a call back.

By 4 pm, I had still not received a phone call, and the website said that they closed at 5 pm. I was now getting a bit desperate. I really needed to know where to park. Not only for the obvious reasons, but being single-handed, I had to set up all my fenders and dock lines before getting close to a marina where I’d be concentrating on maneuvering the boat. And that meant I needed to know which side of the boat would be against the dock. I also didn’t want to just randomly pick an open slip, only to have to move again the next day because I had parked in someone else’s. So, I called the marina again, got VM again, and left another, more urgent-sounding message.

At 5 pm, I called again, hoping they would check messages before closing up for the day, but once again just got VM, so didn’t even bother leaving a message this time. By now, I was pissed. They had sure taken my money easily enough, but they had provided absolutely no service. If there wasn’t a very huge and easily visible open slip when I arrived, I would be forced to anchor somewhere for the night–after I had already paid $140 for a slip for the night.

After thinking about it for awhile, I decided to call the reservation service to see if they could somehow contact the marina. The rep said he would send them another message (whatever that meant), but also informed me that they closed not at 5 pm but at 6 pm. He also said that the software was showing my slip was the fuel dock. Well, that didn’t make much sense because I’d be in the way of everybody, and there was probably no power hookup at the fuel dock. But, I had made a bit better time than initially estimated, and my GPS was showing and ETA between 5:30 pm and 6:30 (as the current fluctuated). There was a chance I might be close enough to reach them on the radio before they went home.

By 5:30 pm I was within a couple miles of the anchorage, and so hailed with with my main radio (which has the antenna on top of the mast for greater range). Miraculously, a dock hand answered on the first call, so I asked him to call me on the phone. He seemed to be expecting me, because he said he had my number. He immediately called me, and I told him my situation. He told me where my slip was, which allowed me to prep the boat in enough time. My ETA at that point was holding pretty steady at 6:15 pm. I asked him if they indeed closed at 6 pm, and he said yes. I asked if there were any chance someone could stay over to help me with the dock lines since I was single handed. He agreed to stay to help me. Yay!

The marina was very crowded (others evidently had the same idea of holing up while the weather passed), but there was a 70′ wide space on the inside of the first dock that was easy to get into. Sure enough, Joe was waiting and we quickly had the boat secured. He turned out to be a very helpful and nice guy, and I tipped him generously. Generously for me, at least. Probably nothing compared to the tips he got from boats like the 150′ yacht parked opposite me!

I was beat after a continual 8 hours and 15 minutes behind the wheel, standing most of the time. But, I nonetheless managed to get the dock lines on and the air conditioner hoisted through the main hatch onto the deck, installed and running, all within an hour of arriving. Then it was off to the showers, and then a short walk into downtown (right next to the marina) to de-stress with a beer and bratwurst while listening to a live band for a couple of hours.

More on Fernandina Beach and the marina tomorrow!

1. As the tide came in an inlet, it would fill in the ICW on either side of it, causing a northerly flowing current on the north side of the inlet but a southerly flowing current on the south side of the inlet. But somewhere along the way to the next inlet, this would change. That is, the northerly-flowing current on the north side of inlet X would eventually change to a southerly flowing current, not being affected by the next inlet to the north. And, of course, every six hours everything would switch around. The tides never hit the inlets at the same time, and none of these changes in direction happened exactly at the halfway point between inlets. It was all quite complicated and unpredictable. At the same engine settings you might be cruising along at 4.5 knots, only an hour later to see 7.5. On a 45-mile day, these speeds differences equate to an en route time difference of between 10 hours and 6 hours! So, all one could do to estimate an arrival time was to use an average speed and hope it was close. ↩︎