home is where the boat is: Florida for the Holidays

December 24 - December 31, 2013

Christmas Eve, outside of Jacksonville

We found ourselves in Florida for the holidays, and after a stock-up of fresh food in Fernandina, as well as charts to lead us forward, we continued South until we were outside of Jacksonville. We stopped at Jim King Park on Sisters Creek where there were welcoming docks, free for 72 hours. We tied up, walked around, and awoke Christmas morning in this quiet spot—no one else was around, and the park was far enough outside the city that it looked at a landscape empty of homes. Around the bend were bridges, factories, and traffic, but from where we sat there was only earth, water, and sky.

The holiday was dedicated to cooking, and the two of us enjoyed a Christmas feast that afternoon, and then snacked on dessert throughout the evening.

Because there were only two of us and no fridge for leftovers, we spread our feasting throughout the day, starting with pumpkin bread for breakfast, later a spinach salad, and then our main course:

-Mashed sweet potato bake topped with brown sugar, pumpkin seeds, and candied walnuts.

-Sautéed green beans and radishes, braised with orange juice.

-Kale stuffing.

-Cranberry sauce, with apple and ginger.

Our holiday meal!

Our dessert was a pumpkin pie with coconut milk whipped cream (because of the ingredients we had aboard, the pie happened to be a delicious vegan version). And our special drink for the evening was champagne, with a splash of cranberry juice. It was a scrumptious meal, and made the day seem festive.

Lou meanwhile had worked on wiring all day, and after dinner we sent him up the mainmast to change some bulbs. By sunset we had a working tri-color, anchor, and deck light atop our mast—lights we had not been able to use in years! Instead we always used our antique traditional anchor light or a LuminAid, and when in need of a steaming light would strap a headlamp in the rigging. Now we have the luxury of simply flipping a switch!

And later, when we could eat no more and our projects were complete, we lit the fire and settled down for an evening of Scrabble.

The next morning we continued on, passing by beautiful St. Augustine and spending the night in a secluded anchorage. Another wooden ketch joined us there and we saw them again the next evening in Daytona, as we were searching for a spot deep enough to spend the night. They hailed us on the radio, directed us towards deep water nearby them, and invited us for dinner. We had a wonderful evening! We loved hearing about their travels and adventures, loved touring Compañera, and enjoyed a delicious meal, including one of my favorite treats—skillet baked cornbread. The crew aboard Compañera have quite a story…they left from Alaska more than four years ago, sailed down the Pacific Coast, went around Patagonia spending months in South America, then slowly climbed the East Coast Northward, eventually landing in Labrador this past summer. (They remembered seeing Evelyn along the way—likely when they passed by MDI and anchored off the Cranberries.) Now they are on their return—down the East Coast, and perhaps through the Panama Canal before turning North towards Alaska. It’s a fascinating journey—almost as fascinating as their other journeys—before sailing off in Compañera, they had spent about three months of every year completing rowing expeditions in arctic climates—Alaska, the Northwest Passage, Labrador, and more. To say the least, and to put it mildly, their stories were inspiring.

Exiting the Haulover Canal.

The next morning we were pushing south again. We had expected Florida to be overly built up and it was—but at times it still managed to surprise us with areas full of natural beauty. Each day’s travels boasted some of those spots, such as the Haulover Canal—short, but beautiful. After passing through the canal we were in the wide and open Indian River—a narrow channel cut through an otherwise shallow expanse, and we carefully kept a straight course through strong winds to keep inside it. As it narrowed and became easier to follow we were met with a soaking rain—we could have stopped and anchored, but the area was open and unprotected, so we continued a bit further and stopped just north of the NASA Bridge, using the causeway to give us some shelter from the chop.

We stayed put the next day—heavy thunderstorms were predicted, and we opted to stay warm and dry. In doing so we also managed to accidentally miss the worst storms—we watched lines of dark clouds full of rain pass to the North and South, but most split as they crossed us. We had a few bouts of rain but were lucky with sun creaking through the clouds at times, so we were able to spend parts of the day on deck. As we were on deck watching an eerie sunset over Cape Canaveral we had a nice treat—two manatees wandered by us, right alongside Evelyn as she lay at anchor. Neither of us had ever seen a manatee in its natural habitat, so the sighting was an exciting one for us. It also gave us the opportunity to observe their behaviors—hear the sounds of their breathing and watch the patterns they create on the water. We had been keeping a lookout for them for a few days, but didn’t truly know what we were looking for. Now that we had had such a nice sighting, we were more confident that we could spot them again. I most enjoyed watching them slide under the water with their big paddle-shaped tail, so different than a seal or a dolphin. Among the mammal dives I was used to watching, this one was unique.

The next day was overcast and cool, and gusty winds shifted to hit us from our exposed angle. We left our anchorage and continued on towards a new one, seeking shelter that night from a tiny spoil island. Its trees and shoal broke the wind and waves enough to provide a comfortable spot with a lovely view. A family was camping ashore, and their children played on a sandbar.

Sunset inside Cape Canaveral

We saw many more of these spoil islands in the Indian River, and found them fascinating and lovely! Apparently there are 137 of these pretty little islands, which were created from dredge spoils when the ICW was dug in the 1950s. Some are private, some recreational, some educational, and some preserves—all are now a distinctive feature along the waterway.

By late afternoon we were approaching the St. Lucie Inlet where we would divert from the ICW and head up into the St. Lucie River. We raised our sails, sailed beneath a bridge, and turned a bend in the river. And as the sun set on New Year’s Eve, we accomplished our last goal of 2013, established the day before—Evelyn sailed alongside the Schooner Lily.

2013 was quite a year, and it couldn’t have ended more perfectly.