There is nothing quite so peaceful as sitting on a boat at anchor or even on a mooring ball. As I write this we are just off St Augustine, Florida. After a delightful day walking around historic St A with required stops for lunch and dessert we came back to the boat to catch up on communications and boat tasks.
The windows are open, breeze blowing, temps in the mid 70’s. I can see the traffic on the bridge upstream but can’t hear it. The sun is shining and Isabella and I are feeling lazy. Days like this are becoming more and more frequent as we continue to head south. Of course it’s not all relaxation and naps….
Yesterday coming into St Augustine Gary decided it would be good to tie up to a mooring ball instead of anchoring as there is a pretty strong current here in Matanzas River. Now we’ve tied up to mooring balls in the past with smaller boats but as we’re on a larger boat at the bow my feet are eight feet above the waterline. My feet. That means Gary has to hold the boat in position next to the mooring ball while I fish the waterlogged huge rope from the water with a skinny twelve foot pole, attach it to two separate lines and tie them off to the bow cleats. It took several tries to get it done and not without a few hiccups. Things like unwrapping one of the lines from around the anchor, pulling a muscle as I leaned over the side as far as possible and lifted about 50 pounds of wet rope, Gary not being able to see the mooring ball and operating solely on what I was telling him to position the boat-you get the picture. We were back to what Gary calls the Keystone Cops. But now that we’ve done it the next time will go smoother. After a few more times we may even look like we know what we’re doing.
Back to anchoring. A few nights ago we anchored just north of St A on the ICW. Other than a few small fishing boats that vanished at dusk we were all alone. The next morning was foggy and overcast so we were having a relaxed breakfast when out of the fog appeared two Hawiian war canoes heading our way complete with war cries. Not exactly what you expect to see on a quiet Sunday morning.
It’s never dull and there is always something interesting to see.