Pinned! (Cruising? Hah!)

Sign of the times.  Was it placed there to
make a mockery of our plans?
Unlikely, but apt.

The last full day we spent as land lubbers preparing to go cruising lent itself to short sleeves and sunscreen, once the fog burned off.  

On the way… Masthead on luxury liner
Kismet; a wealthy Jags fan docked 
near us at JAX Landings for the game.  
Note the helmet under the big kitty’s paw.

We’d hoped to make it out from JAX NAS Mulberry Cove marina that day, but we weren’t quite ready to give up our wheels, and once we did, we also needed to sell them.

With our usual impeccable timing, the next day, when we left was another story.

Wayne test drives his new West Marine
foulies.  He like them, but his expression
radiates his joy over the weather.
We bought foulies figuring for
New Zealand, not Jacksonville Florida.

It started out gray and shifted to blustery, then wet.  

Our tentative plan was to overnight at Sister’s Creek free dock.  It’s just a mere two miles from our entry into the Atlantic ocean, where we’d catch the tide out, then spend the next two days sailing 24/7 the 230 or so miles down Florida’s East Coast to Stuart.  That for one last visit to Mom (in DelRay Beach) and Dad (in Sarasota) before leaving the country for two years.

Instead, here we sit for another day, pinned to the dock with several other cruisers also lamenting their foiled plans.  The temperature in Stuart (our intended next stop)? 75F.  Here?  50s, not counting wind chill in gusts of 30 mph+.

Location Location

Still at Sister’s Creek, just outside Jacksonville Florida (N30.23.877 W81.27.524).  Tomorrow, the winds are supposed to be lighter, enough to enable us to pull away from the dock and begin our Southern migration. South Pacific Puddle Jump here we come!  (Eventually).

Note the wooden dock tipping into
the water?  This barely “floating” dock is
near its limits, with the tide running
a foot and half above normal.

Pinned!  It took the grunting strain of
three men to nudge Journey back
far enough to adjust our fenders. Our fenders work.  Poor fenders.

Journey, our Pearson 365 sailboat, jaunty
in her red canvas, in the lineup of boats
pinned against the dock by wind and water.
She’s ready to go, but at the moment
Mother Nature has other plans.