Christmas in Miami

As promised, on Tuesday our solar panels arrive in Stuart, albeit, a few hours later than expected.  At 10:30 am they are at the boat, and by noon they are fastened on the framework and we are casting off docklines.  We are off to an anchorage at the mouth of the Lake Worth Inlet, a mere 35 miles away.  The ICW passes through picturesque Hobe Sound with many lovely homes situated between the waterway and the coastal beaches.  

Notice the trellis on the chimney of this house - very attractive

Another beautiful house along the ICW

It seems leisurely until we realize that the bridges that must open for our passage are all timed which causes us to wait for openings at several points.  Sunset threatens as our pace slows down. After all, this is December 18, and our days are painfully short. We have never been through this area before, and it is ill advised to ply the ICW after dark.  It is 6 pm and the last glow of sunset faintly illuminates us as we drop anchor at our planned destination. On shore are the huge mansions of Palm Beach, many spectacularly decorated with Christmas lights. 

The alarm goes off at 2 am. We pull anchor and head out the well buoyed inlet to the Atlantic Ocean.   

What's the attraction of  blue water sailing - how about this sunrise?

We are timing our arrival in Miami to coincide with a favorable tidal current and in this case, our calculations are right on.  

Entering the Port of Miami

 We come into the harbor, make the turn to go through some very shallow water at high tide, and drop anchor in a lagoon between man-made residential islands.  Looking east we can see the buildings of South Beach and to the west is the skyline of Miami proper.  To the south over a causeway are the many huge cruise ships that come and go into the Port of Miami. We have been told there is much to do and see here.  We take the dinghy into a canal that almost bisects Miami Beach.  What we see are graffiti decorated bridges, floating trash, and, to our surprise, three iguanas in a tree overhanging the canal.  

Check out the three iguanas - we thought they were plastic at first and then  one blinked

It leaves us with mixed feelings.  The next day we take our bikes into South Beach to have a better look around.  Traffic is insane, and twice I am almost hit by cars. Latino machismo is decidedly on display. The famous Lincoln Rd., a pedestrian thoroughfare, is packed with people gawking at the exclusive shops and chic sidewalk cafes.  It seems almost everyone is on a cell phone and unaware of other walkers or bicyclers in the congestion.  We hear a variety of foreign languages. It looks like it could be a very interesting place for people watching from an open air restaurant, but something is a little unsettling about the populace, and I keep my purse well protected. There is a lovely bike trail through the dunes that form the Atlantic coast. On one side is a beautiful beach crammed with rows of rental umbrellas and chaises.  On the other side are swank hotels with lush landscaped pool areas. The southern most tip consists of park land (again with visible graffiti) backed by huge high rise condos. 

The view north from the southern tip of South Beach

It is indeed a dramatic contrast of wealth and poverty, tourists and shady looking characters.  

The next day we decide to head back to South Beach and take an audio tour of the Art Deco district.  South Beach is famous for its collection of Art Deco hotels and other buildings.  Since Miami is a relatively young city, much of its growth occurred between the late 20’s and World War II. Architects chose to use different varieties of Art Deco design as it reflected the era’s interest in burgeoning technology and was also an inexpensive way to construct buildings that had a distinctively artistic flavor. 

A private home in the Spanish Art Deco style

A hotel facade that suggests rocket ships of the1930's vintage

An Ocean Blvd. hotel sporting colors popular in the Art Deco era

The interesting and informative tour takes us almost two hours, and when we return to the starting point, the Art Deco Information Center, we find our bikes, which were secured with a sturdy lock in a very open area, are gone.  We rush into the Center, and the receptionist is quite shocked and sends us to the nearby police station.  Within a block we come upon a policeman on bicycle and tell him what has happened.  He puts out an immediate APB and points us in the direction of the station.  When we report the theft, the officer is sympathetic, but his body language tells us it is hopeless – our bikes are gone for good. His parting words are “Stay safe out there”, repeated three times.  We beat a hasty retreat to the safety of our boat.

As much as I want to get out of Miami, we decide to stay through Christmas.  We host a happy hour on our boat for the two other nearby anchored boats, a catamaran with a British couple and a trimaran from Michigan whose owners know some of our past friends from the multihull community.  On Christmas Day friends we sailed with last winter and spring in the Bahamas come over from another anchorage for a full fledged Christmas dinner. This year they will only cruise in southern Florida as they just purchased a home in Vero and will be settling there after seven years as full time liveaboards, selling their beloved boat.  It is a bittersweet moment for them.

The day after Christmas we make a short trip down to Biscayne Bay and No Name Harbor in Bill Beggs State Park, passing by the dramatic Miami skyline. The stylish buildings have a Latin twist making them more interesting than most in big cities.  

Interesting Miami building

Miami skyline looking up the Miami River

Our destination is a place where many people stage for crossing over to the Bahamas, and since this morning the window for making the crossing is ideal, the harbor is empty and we are able to anchor in its protection.  The dinghy is launched, and we spent a delightful and relaxing day on the Atlantic beach.  Something here just feels safer and more comfortable, and the views can’t be beat.

Leaving No Name Harbor we motor past Stiltsville and out of Biscayne Bay.  

Several of the remaining Stiltsville homes

Stiltsville is an historic area in the Bay where people built small homes above the protected waters of the bay.  Many have been torn down or destroyed by hurricanes, but a few remain and are occupied occasionally. There is much ongoing debate over the future preservation of the Stiltsville area. Thus, we begin our “nostalgia tour” into the Keys, anchoring off Rodriguiz Key near Key Largo

Sunset at the Rodriguez Key anchorage we shared with two other boats.

and then making the rest of the trip to Marathon the following day in beautiful sailing conditions. It is blowing 12-15 knots on our beam, the water is flat, and we give our recently re-cut sails a test.  The boat performs as desired, and we are making over seven knots of speed.  This is what Keys sailing is all about, skimming over translucent smooth water, and we have the best sail we have had since leaving the Bahamas. The downside to the Keys for our deep draft boat is the depth.  We arrive at Marathon right at low tide and anchor off the entrance to Boot Key Harbor until the tide begins to rise and other boats passing though the entrance report sufficient depth for us. We get a mooring ball in the deepest part of the harbor and settle down to stay at least until the new bikes we have ordered arrive, as this is a reasonable place to have mail and packages shipped.  And, we call this our “nostalgia tour” as we have spent many wonderful weeks down here over the years, windsurfing and later cruising our trimaran.  We feel like we have arrived at home.

Grinding to a Halt

Thanksgiving Day in Vero dawns with blue skies, mild temperatures, and a pleasant breeze.  This is the day we have been long anticipating.  A record number of cruisers and some land based retired cruisers gather at a first class park pavilion near the marina.  We come bearing an amazing array of potluck dishes to accompany the many donated turkeys and hams – it is going to be a memorable feast. We grab the last available table, joined by our Australian friends, Claire and Andrew, another couple we met at the Annapolis Gam in 2011 and see occasionally along the way, and a couple new to cruising.  

Site of our Thanksgiving dinner on the porch overlooking the water

It proves to be an amicable group as we enjoy the feast and chat about all our sailing experiences.  After dinner we are entertained by musicians on the deck and a raffle of items donated to the cruisers’ Thanksgiving by local merchants.  Claire and Andrew are the big winners, with Andrew receiving a gift certificate for a local seafood shop and Claire claiming a harmonica, complete with neck holder.  Now, Claire has never played a harmonica and perhaps never even seen one before.  We laugh to think of their fellow Australians’ reaction – so, American Thanksgiving includes the distribution of harmonicas?!?  But Claire is a diligent student and within a day she has almost mastered When the Saints Go Marching In. 

The happy winners - cover your ears!

At the conclusion of the day, I am “awarded” a plaque emblazoned with “Regulation Basket Weaving” by retiring cruiser and friend Sue Scheidt.  For years Sue has overseen the basketmaking group in Georgetown, Exumas, and she is now passing on that responsibility to me.  I have to question her judgment, though, as all the baskets I made last year resembled modern art since none were the least bit symmetrical. Woe be it to the poor souls I instruct this year, but I’ll give it my best shot. 

Sue, Prue, and the handover of the awesome responsibility

With Thanksgiving over, everyone is busy preparing to leave Vero.  I beg our musician friends, Bentley and Jim from Salty Paws, to play at one more happy hour at the marina on Friday evening.  Despite the last minute arrangements, we have a huge turnout and people stay well beyond dark.  

Bentley, Jim, and friends provide music for happy hour

Tomorrow most will be heading further south, and it will be a long time before a group of cruisers this size will congregate again.

The next morning we grab Claire and Andrew and dinghy over to our favorite breakfast place on the shore.  We have a leisurely meal, take a walk along the boardwalk, and bid them farewell.   

Claire and Andrew on their way to breakfast in their Australian flagged dinghy

They will leave in the afternoon, heading to the Bahamas and then Cuba as soon as possible as their six month visa for the States is about to expire. After sailing with them off and on during the summer and fall, it is likely we will not see them again as their long range plans are to head across the Pacific to Australia.  That is the downside to cruising – the friendships can be wonderful and intense, but they often come to an abrupt end when boats permanently head in different directions.

So, a day later we head down to Stuart, an easy 30 mile motor on the ICW.   After a night on a mooring ball, we pull into a dock at a boatyard that Mack Sails uses for their rigging customers.  We are excited to get started, but they are a bit short handed, and all that is accomplished before we leave for Ohio is measuring the rig.  We hope to return to find the new rigging installed, but what could we have been thinking??  We’re dealing with the marine industry, and rule number one is to allow double the amount of time necessary to complete a project.  And, what else could we have been thinking? Just like Murphy, if anything can go wrong, it will.  Once we return to Stuart, all the rigging goes up easily except for the forestay and furler.  There is some galling between a cover and an interior piece of metal.  That portion of the furler is taken to a machine shop and repaired. When it comes time to reassemble the furler, it doesn’t go together properly.  Of course it is Friday evening and nothing more will be done until Monday morning.  We move from the expensive dock and anchor about a mile away.   

Rainbow while at anchor in Stuart - did I mention it rains at least a little everyday here?

Monday we return to the dock to find out if we had requested a monthly rate, it would have been much cheaper.  They take pity on us and refund us a goodly sum, and now we can stay at the dock for the rest of the month – fine if your plan is to be in Stuart for a month. Somehow Monday the gods are smiling on us and the furler miraculously goes together.  Loose ends are completed and the job with Mack Sails is done and is quite satisfactory. 

But, we’re not done.  Do refer back to rules number one and two. Burt orders a piece of bent stainless to support the solar panels from another source.  It takes over a week for someone to come out to the boat to take measurements.  Once that is complete we wait several more days for the material to arrive, a few more days for someone to get around to bending it, and an extra day before delivery as the owner (who, incidentally, had worked for many years with Micky Rupp of Mansfield renown) has decided to go duck hunting.  When it finally arrives it is three inches too short, so it goes back to the shop for welding and several days later it show up and is installed.  Now that we have a place to put the solar panels, we are ready to order them from a source in Fort Lauderdale.  It will take a day for them to ship to Stuart, we are told. Friday we anxiously wait the arrival of the panels but nothing shows up, and late in the day we give them a call to find out that their computer crashed and all the orders were lost.  Back to square one, and with a weekend intervening, it will take four more days to get the panels. 

Negotiating the monthly dockage plan now seems like a good idea as we will be in Stuart for almost a month. Now, Stuart is not a bad place.  We are at a nice dock with water and power, although it is a boatyard right next to a very active, noisy railroad line. There are no other amenities at the yard, and it is a bit lonely here as virtually all the other boats are uninhabited.  We can bike just about everywhere, including a huge mall area with all the standard stores, an excellent grocery store, a laundromat that is a bit far, and all the attractive shops and restaurants in the restored downtown portion of Stuart.  We long to get back underway, though, and look forward to spending Christmas in Miami if all goes well. We are decked out with solar powered LED lights around the cockpit and a small artificial Christmas tree (with LED lights, also, as power conservation on a sail boat is a big consideration) below decks. But, it just won’t seem like Christmas until we can rejoin our friends in the cruising community. Thus, we have ground to a halt.

Skipping Southward

We are trying to leave Savannah and the Thunderbolt Marina but the weather gods just aren’t on our side.  Hurricane Sandy is long past, but we are left with strong northerly winds and disturbed seas.  We are in contact with an Australian boat docked in Savannah proper and plan to do the next passage in the company of this skipper who is on his second circumnavigation.  By email, we communicate our concerns with the weather and postpone our departures enough times that we move to an anchorage in a nearby creek to await the window we want, avoiding additional dockage charges.  This is an area of 8 – 9 foot tides, and we feel we are riding an elevator up and down in the marsh grasses.  

Near high tide along the Wilmington River with the Savannah Yacht Club in the distance

Low tide from the same vantage point - where did everything go?

 Finally, we get what seems to be a decent forecast and exit the Wassau Inlet in a wandering and shallow pathway out to the ocean.  Within an hour, the wind picks up and the short period waves roll us in all different directions.  Thirty unpleasant hours later, we arrive in St. Augustine, negotiating the always shoaling channel with no difficulty. Both our Aussie companion boat and we comment that the passage is the closest we have ever come to getting sea sick, and all of us are happy to be tied up to a mooring at the municipal facility in the shadow of the Bridge of Lions and back on solid ground. 

The beginning of the Bridge of Lions with part of the mooring field in the background

We have been eagerly anticipating our visit to historic St. Augustine, the oldest continually inhabited European settlement in North America.  With the Spanish fort, Castillo de San Marcos (construction started in 1672) dominating the waterfront and narrow winding streets composing the old city, the place oozes charm and quaintness. A group of cruisers are gathering that night at an English pub, and we are invited to join them.  It’s a Saturday and the streets are packed with tourists, but the twinkling white lights, candlelit windows, and live music emanating from patios and balconies, remind us of similar streets in old European cities.  It is totally delightful. We get wind of a free concert the next day and make our way by bicycle to the St. Augustine Amphitheater, an outdoor venue at the south end of Anastasia State Park.  Florida will formally begin a celebration of the 500^th anniversary of Spain’s claim to the peninsula in 2013, and this is one of the opening events.  We are treated to a concert by the Cuban National Symphony Orchestra which is making a goodwill tour of the United States.  From the opening rousing rendition of our National Anthem, to Beethoven’s Fifth, to Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue with a tango/jazz twist to the piano solo, it is outstanding and especially memorable due to the location of the 4000 seat amphitheater in a tropical hammock. It also leaves us thirsting to visit Cuba, something currently illegal for US citizens. 

We save exploration of the tourist sites to the weekdays when things will be less crowded. First stop is a climb of the St. Augustine Lighthouse that we saw upon entering the inlet. At 165 feet high, it is a bit of a hike but worth every inch to see the view from the top. 

St. Augustine Lighthouse

View from top of the lighthouse - notice the breakers outside the inlet? STAY AWAY FROM THOSE!

Nearby, also on Anastasia Island, is Anastasia State Park with its miles of spectacular undeveloped beach.

Beautiful beach at Anastasia Island State Park

 With less traffic on the streets we cruise on bikes through century old neighborhoods, down narrow commercial streets, now sporting tourist shops and restaurants, 

Street in St. Augustine, now just for pedestrians

and through the grounds of Flagler College, housed partly in the large, striking hotel built by Henry Flagler. It was an ancillary to his famous railroad line down the Florida peninsula which signaled the true beginning of the tourist industry in Florida. 

Flagler's hotel, now a building on the campus of Flagler College

Finally, we visit the Castillo de San Marcos, now a part of the National Park System. This huge structure has been totally renovated and houses may displays documenting the Spanish occupation of Florida. 

Interior of the fort

We marvel at the collection of ornate Spanish cannons and enjoy the vistas of the surrounding waters.

Details of a cannon dating from the 1500"s

 

View from the fort over surrounding waters

 We have been in St. Augustine for five days and would be willing to stay longer, but the cold weather is catching up with us, so we begin the trek further south, this time avoiding the disturbed seas and opting for the ICW instead.  From this point south we do not have to worry as much about depths and shoaling.  The two and a half day trip to Vero Beach combines passing by communities such as Cocoa, New Smyrna, and Melbourne with long stretches through sanctuary land. We see plenty of dolphins and birds along the way and especially enjoy an area of the Merritt Island Wildlife Sanctuary (near Cape Canaveral) where large colonies of birds inhabit the fill islands created by dredging the ICW. 

Near Haulover Canal on the ICW - this island sports white and brown pelicans and roseate spoonbills

Coming into Vero is like coming home as we are familiar with the ins and outs of this cruiser friendly community. The municipal marina has a large protected mooring field where we meet up with many of the cruisers we know from last winter. Since the facility is so popular, you are required to raft with up to three boats at a single mooring ball. Luckily we are assigned a companion boat we know quite well. Tom and Sandy sail with their cat Dory and suddenly we also have a cat.  She easily jumps between the two boats and spends hours exploring the nooks and crannies in Exuberant, taking a special interest in Burt who she basically follows all day long.  In the mornings we are greeted by a pair of beady eyes peering through the porthole and a meow asking won’t we come out and play. We are wondering if we will end up with a stow-away.  

Dory soaks up the sun on our dark hatch and keeps a watchful eye on Burt as he dangles from the top of the mast

We have lots of boat projects to complete and are also provisioning and outfitting our floating home for the next six months.  The free city bus picks us up at the marina and provides access to just about any national chain store imaginable along with several options for grocery stores.  It is a process of purchasing, inventorying, and storing large quantities of necessities.  This is also a place we can easily accept packages so many items are ordered via the internet.  Finally, Burt spends several days installing a new LED anchor/trilight/strobe light on the top of the mast and begins the more challenging project of installing solar panels over our bimini, a job that will be completed further down the road.

But, it is not all work.  Vero is a sociable place. Thursday night is the weekly cruisers’ happy hour with potluck hors d’ouvres and boating musicians providing guitar and banjo tunes under the live oaks and picnic shelter.  Later that evening, we are joined by a friend from Ohio who works as a captain on a trawler and the trawler’s owner for dinner via dinghy at a nearby restaurant, giving us the opportunity to catch up on all the Lake Erie news. We enjoy biking through the nearby neighborhoods and along the ocean beaches.  With the endless days of strong northerly winds, along with Sandy’s initial destruction, the beaches are seriously eroding, and in one day we note that perhaps five feet of sand bank has disappeared.   

The waves have washed away much of the sand along this beach

Sunday we take dinghies with our mooring neighbors to a small, open air oceanside restaurant for breakfast under palm trees overlooking the crashing waves and later take a walk along the boardwalk to work off the indulgence.   

What a great spot for breakfast - and you can get there by dinghy

We visit a large farmer’s market and happily purchase freshly picked Florida oranges and stop by a huge nautical flea market where Burt finds hardware he needs for the solar panel project at greatly reduced prices and I find the perfect windproof straw hat.  We ride our bikes to another beach and a casual restaurant where we sit in Adirondack chairs atop the sand banks, sipping drinks, and listening to guitar music. 

Relaxing by the shore

It’s not a bad life here in Vero!

Our cat owning friends have left and Australian friends we sailed with over the summer are on their way here.  We will stay through Thanksgiving when the marina and community put on a huge Thanksgiving dinner for the cruisers.  Vero merchants make donations and a group of local former cruisers called the C.L.O.D.s (cruisers living on dirt) cook up the turkeys.  The rest of us bring side dishes to a park pavilion where we stuff ourselves and enjoy more music under the swaying palms. A few days later we will leave what is fondly known as Velcro Beach for Stuart, Florida where the 20 year old standing (wire) rigging on our boat will be replaced. And during that time we will make a quick trip home to Mansfield to celebrate Burt’s Mom’s 90^th birthday with our children and grandchildren all in attendance. While we won’t be with family for Thanksgiving, we can hardly wait to see everyone just a few days later.

Dancing with Sandy

We are working our way down the ICW, inside of Cape Hatteras, sometimes sailing and sometimes motoring across open sounds and through rivers and man-made canals.  It takes us a total of four days to make it to the ocean again at Beaufort/Morehead City. Our plan is to sail out to Cape Lookout, anchor for the night, and then depart down the coast on the outside for a 30 – some hour passage to Charleston, SC.  We visited Cape Lookout a year ago and are anticipating another night in a spectacular anchorage.  In addition, with our first access to truly clear, warm water in months, Burt wants to snorkel the boat to check the zincs.  But, nothing goes as planned.  The wind has picked up as we motor out the channel, sails are hoisted, and we are moving along at a nice clip.  It time to shut down the engine, but as I lean over to do so, I notice the engine panel is no longer functioning.  In all likelihood we won’t be able to shut off the engine and also won’t be able to restart it.  Burt makes a cursory investigation of the situation and can come up with no logical explanation. This is not a good scenario, so we call a marina in Morehead City to see if they can accommodate us, and if they could get an electrician to our boat. With a positive reply, we turn around, motor in to the marina, and find, yes, we can not shut off the engine.  Burt is tinkering with the panel while I go in to register.  When I get back, the engine is off, and Burt is smiling.  As usual, when things go wrong, it’s mostly likely the simplest solution that solves the problem.  In this case, one of us had accidentally tripped a switch that provides power to the panel. Cape Lookout was not meant to be, and as we later find out, that’s a good thing. Apparently, it is known to have large schools of bull sharks in the anchorage, and thus is not a great swimming hole.

We have an uneventful passage to Charleston in the company of several other boats and arrive at an anchorage we used last spring. Awaiting us are friends we made while at the boatyard in Deltaville last summer. We set the anchor solidly as this spot is known for less than perfect holding and strong tidal currents. In the next three days we see three different boats without people on board adrift.  One broke its mooring line, one managed to break free by wrapping its anchor trip-line around its rudder, and the final one just dragged its anchor.  In all three cases, the boats are rescued unharmed, but it is a bit unnerving. 

But, we are back in Charleston, one of our favorite cities. Besides tending to basic necessities and chores, we spend time biking through the quaint side streets.  Instead of smelling the jasmine of last spring, we hear the sounds of leaves crunching underfoot.  It is fall in Charleston, and the trees are just beginning to turn. 

Home along Charleston's waterfront

Garden behind a home in Charleston

Window boxes with orchids along Charleston street

One of our cruising friends mentions that there is a Lightning regatta in progress on the other side of town.  As we had competed in Lightnings many years ago, we dash over to the club to see the spinnaker finish of the last race.  Forty racing boats with their colorful spinnakers out in the harbor is a beautiful sight.  After the race, we enjoy greeting several skippers with whom we had sailed many years ago. Another day we ride our bikes to the top of the new suspension bridge that spans the Cooper River.   

Bridge over Cooper River in Charleston

In a moment of enlightenment, the designers included a wide pedestrian lane that accommodates both foot and bike traffic.  It is well utilized by an assortment of people, and we enjoy the view of the city and the opportunity to see the structure of this bridge up close. 

People bike and walk beside the impressive structure of the bridge

Who (excepting my brother-in-law) knew a bridge could be so beautiful?

Late in our stay we host a happy hour on our boat for three other boats, all past residents of Great Lakes states.  One boat is from a neighboring sailing club in Sandusky – it’s a nice opportunity to reconnect with the crew who we have known for years and who are helping deliver the boat to Florida.   

The guys from Sandusky appear to be behaving themselves

The next day all our guests are all taking off for an off-shore passage south.  All, that is, except our friends from Deltaville who can’t retrieve their anchor.  They call in a diver who discovers the anchor has dropped down a hole in some metal framework lurking on the bottom, and he is unable to extract it.  The only option is to cut the anchor chain and lose the anchor, a very expensive proposition.  We agree to help them the next morning. At the appointed hour we are ready to get into the dinghy when we notice the boat is gone.  A call on the VHF reveals that they had taken all the slack out of the chain, to save as much of the length as possible when they cut it, but it just kept coming and coming until suddenly they had the anchor back on the roller and were adrift. One is thankful for small miracles!  The next day we plan to leave and, in preparation, we pull up a secondary anchor we had set to control our motion in the current. But, it is an unusually difficult job and part way down the rode, we find a small outboard motor entangled in the rope.  Yes, this isn’t the greatest anchorage and the bottom is littered with junk, but it affords excellent access to a wonderful city.

Our next passage is an overnight in lumpy seas to Savannah. We have made arrangements to stay two nights at a marina near bus access into the city of Savannah. Over the past few days we have been hearing about the possible formation of a tropical low that could develop into a hurricane with its sights set on the US east coast, and now our weather service makes the predictions sound increasingly dire.  When we arrive at Thunderbolt Marina I plead for an extension to our reservation as now our nemesis has a name – Sandy. Docks are suddenly at a premium, and we are delighted to find out that we can stay put as long as necessary; we take the last dock available at this facility.  Rather than take a day off to tour Savannah, we spend our time preparing our boat for a potential hurricane.  Extra dock lines are retrieved from the bilge and spare fenders are inflated and put into position.

And we wait.  We bike around the town of Thunderbolt, visiting the nearby Bonaventure Cemetery, a huge Victorian styled cemetery with fascinating tombstone sculptures and crypts housing the remains of many historical significant Georgians.  The cemetery was featured in the movie Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. With moss draped live oaks swaying in the building breeze, it is a spooky place to visit just a few days before Halloween. 

At Bonaventure Cemetery, the Gates of Heaven overlooking the river - this is the plot of one of Savannah's leading families

Old headstones and hanging moss combine for a surreal experience

And we wait.  We wander through the extensive Thunderbolt Marina yard and basin.  This is one of the few facilities on the east coast that can service the largest megayachts.  A number of them that are over 200 feet long are at docks, on the hard,  or inside the huge painting facility. 

Our little sailboat seems dwarfed in comparison to these megayachts

Uniformed crews with foreign accents scamper about supervising the refits that are in progress.  Another cruiser informs us that one boat just had a $4.4 million dollar extension added to its stern to house a second hot tub.  It’s hard for us to comprehend such wealth.

And we wait.  We have a nice dinner at the local open air restaurant, holding on to our napkins to keep them from blowing away. We watch the local high school’s homecoming parade with a group of proud mothers.

And we wait, for what?  Sandy passes well off the coast of northern Georgia, and we see no more than 30 knots of wind, no waves along our protected stretch of the ICW that is five miles inland of the ocean, and no storm surge of notice. This is the only stretch of the Atlantic coast that does not have either hurricane or tropical storm warnings.  The seas outside in the ocean are huge, so we will stay here until things subside, but we are never in any danger.  It is a great first close encounter with a hurricane, but we do worry about our cruising friends in less protected places that are closer to the path of Sandy. Emails are flying amongst our community and the daily ham nets are abuzz – who is where and what they are doing to prepare, what are boats closer to the storm experiencing, and the frightening details of the mayday and rescue of a large fishing boat with over 30 people on board adrift without power in Bahamian waters during the height of the hurricane.  We hear the stunning news that the Bounty, the replica tall ship that was featured in the movie Mutiny on the Bounty, has sunk off the shore of Cape Hatteras, leaving two crew unaccounted for. It strikes home as we had seen her up close this summer in Newport. We suspect we will be hearing “Sandy” stories well into the winter cruising season.

The aftermath of Sandy is still with us.  We have sunny, but cool days and the winds off the trailing cold fronts are at times brisker than what we experienced during Sandy. We will stay put for a few more days until the winds and waves subside. The weather gives us a good opportunity to visit the old city of Savannah. We take the local bus into town with our folding bikes in the convenient exterior racks.  Once we get into the city and obtain tourist maps, we take off on our bikes through the historic neighborhoods.  The city plait contains square neighborhoods with central parks and side streets in orderly fashion.  Savannah is unique in the south as it was never attacked during the Civil War.  Instead, Gen. Sherman stopped just short of Savannah in his March to the Sea, claiming the city was too attractive to level. The antebellum homes, parks enhanced with monuments and fountains, and the rows of moss draped live oaks are enchanting. 

A charming Savannah home now converted to an inn

The Forsyth Fountain in the historic district of Savannah

We weave through various neighborhoods to the river front where we find four story rehabilitated warehouses, now occupied by shops and restaurants, along a new brick river walk.   

Looking past a rehabbed warehouse to the river front

We stop along the waterfront docks to chat with a boat that did the Charleston to Savannah passage with us; finally we get to meet this Australian circumnavigator in person.  We end our day of tourism with dinner at a waterfront restaurant.  When this warehouse was remodeled into the current restaurant, they found a map of Sherman’s March to the Sea drawn on the wall by the officers that were billeted there. This portion of the wall is now under glass and climate controlled, and we marvel at the opportunity to see history at such close range.   

We hope to leave shortly for an ocean passage from Savannah to St. Augustine, a distance of 120 nm, but the weather situation will be the controlling factor.  Many boats have resumed their southern migration down the waterway, but the Georgia and north Florida sections of the ICW have many shoal areas, and, with our deep keel, we will have a much easier and safer trip if we stick to the ocean.  And, meanwhile, we think of those people up and down the coast who have been confronted with so much devastation.  When you travel the coast so intimately, Sandy and its repercussions seem much more vivid.