Post #48: We made it!

Friday to Wednesday, November 20 - 25, 2020

Over 1,614 miles at about 6 miles per hour, living on the boat for 61 days, moving it for 48 of those days and we made it to Cocoa Village Marina in Cocoa, Florida on the day we said we’d get here! And it rally felt great to look back at the last bridge we would have to go under or go through for six long weeks.  Huzzah!

We made a reservation at Cocoa Village Marina from Thanksgiving to after New Year’s with the intention of renting a car and driving back to DC to spend the whole holiday season with our children and grandchildren. But due to the Covid surge, we thought it most prudent to stay here and not travel.  I know that many of you had to make similar heart-wrenching decisions.  We’ll all just have to make up for it next year!

We’ve spent the last few days cleaning the boat, restocking groceries, doing laundry, etc., all the exciting stuff. It’s been pretty rainy and windy but we are not complaining as the temperature has been in the mid-70s.  We are transitioning from thinking about Onward as a vehicle to get us to the next destination to now living aboard in one place.  She is truly our Tiny House.

We’ve explored Historic Cocoa Village, just two blocks away from the marina.  It’s a compact, funky, artsy, fun kind of town with dozens of restaurants, shops, live theatre (!), a lovely municipal park at the water’s edge, and masks are required so it feels so much safer than St. Augustine.

The park benches and even the electrical transformers have been decorated:

Even though it’s just the two of us for Thanksgiving, we planned a traditional menu so it would feel  more festive.  I needed to find a pie pan since I hadn’t packed one, thinking we’d be in DC.  This precipitated a walk to the nearby hardware store, S.F. Travis and Company—and a step back in history. Owned and operated by the same family in the same location since 1885, it’s been described as “a museum that actually sells tools and hardware.”  If you need something, they have it.  If you don’t need something, they have it, too. And there’s no extra charge for dust.  We could have spent hours in there!

They also had all sorts of old fishing, hunting, and space-related photos around the store, including this one, which I believe is actually legit.  It certainly was taken long before PhotoShop existed:

Back on the boat, I realized I didn’t pack a rolling pin, either.  David improvised by soaking and peeling the label off a wine bottle. It worked quite well!

Tomorrow we’ll roast our turkey breast and mash some potatoes.  And watch those marvelous Rockettes!

A friend sent us this message and I’d like to share it with you, “Wishing you a meaningful Thanksgiving, some delicious family favorites and the ability to connect, in some way, with those that bring joy to your life.”  Happy Thanksgiving!

Post #47: Nine Bridges and a Lagoon

Thursday, November 19, 2020

OK, so my memory of places I visited 50 years ago may not always be accurate but I know that it will be a long time before I forget this day.

We had to get under or through NINE bridges today, three of which read less than 63.5’ clearance on their height boards.  We were holding our breath and praying on those three, believe me. It was the most anxiety-producing day so far.  Little did we know what was to come.

Our personal race through Daytona began at 9:42 a.m. at the lowest point of low tide and the beginning of the course looked like this with the first four bridges in sight:

We were feeling quite confident as we continued on our way to the Ponce de Leon inlet, past modest homes, trailer park villages, and fishing camps.  This guy even had his faithful black lab on board to help him catch some fish:

Soon we could see the iconic red Ponce de Leon lighthouse near New Smyrna Beach.

Then it was time to go under bridge #7 and turn into Mosquito Lagoon.  It is an open, shallow expanse of water that is an ideal fishing ground for sport and commercial fishermen as well as pelicans, especially when it is calm.  Here are two snapshots of our charts which may help to show how different this area is compared to most of our travels the past few weeks. Most of the time we have nearby shore on both sides. The two charts shown are at the same scale so you get an idea of how narrow our channel is (the dotted line), even when traveling across a huge lagoon.  If we deviate from the channel, there’s only 1-3 feet of water.  And we need 5’4”.

Mosquito Lagoon did not live up to its name—the good news was there were no mosquitos.  The bad news was that it was not the calm, peaceful body of water one might expect from its nomenclature.

When we passed by the “N” in “Lagoon” on the second photo, David happened to be down below and I was at the helm.  Suddenly a fierce squall came to life, with sustained winds of 25 knots, slashing rainfall, and gusts to 35 knots! The shallow water was whipped up by the winds from the Atlantic and seas built to 3-foot waves in what seemed like an instant. The waves crashed over our bow and sprayed the dodger “windows,” making us wish we had some sort of windshield wiper. I quickly tried to “dump some air” out of our headsail by easing the sheet as the boat heeled to starboard. I called out for David to come help as we needed to haul that sail in as quickly as possible to keep it from flailing around.  Thank goodness we had both been in similar situations together and knew what to do but it was a momentarily harrowing experience. Once it had settled down, I took this video:

Some people come to Orlando to experience the Tower of Terror amusement ride at Disney.  I’ve had enough moments of “terror” today, thank you very much.  Fortunately, the squall moved on as quickly as it appeared and I took three deep breaths (as my father had taught me) and we focused on getting to Titusville before dark.

The closer we got, the clearer became the view of Cape Canaveral and the Kennedy Space Center.  We could see the launch pad for the next SpaceX adventure!  When David and I were in elementary school, televisions were rolled into the classrooms so we could witness the launches of the Gemini and Apollo missions.  Astronauts were held up as almost god-like heroes and even our math, science, and phys. ed. classes were recalibrated to prepare us to help win the Space Race.  What a thrill it will be to see a launch close up while we are staying at Cocoa for six weeks!

Finally, we took a sharp right and went through the Haulover Canal, so relieved to be out of the “lagoon.” The world changed again as we were greeted by dolphins, cormorants, Great Blue and white herons, a “flamboyance” of flamingos,  scores of pelicans and gulls all swirling about, skimming the water and seemingly unperturbed by our presence. Small fishing skows and kayakers plied the waters and the bascule bridge opened on request. Sigh.

Only one more bridge to go through, NASA’s  Railway Bridge which, fortunately is almost always in an open position.

Finally, finally, we were past all those bridges, safely tied to a mooring ball in Titusville Marina and the day was done.

I don’t think I need to tell you that we both fell soundly asleep by 8:30.  One more day to Cocoa Village Marina.

Post #46: Selling Swampland in Florida

Wednesday, November 18, 2020

Daytona, here we come! We waved goodbye to Summerhouse and Ft. Matanzas and headed toward Palm Coast.  

Palm Coast is one of those places that causes confusion in my memory storage unit.  I know I’ve heard the name before but not sure when. I know that when Alan, Mom and Dad, and I visited Miami in the early 1970’s, we got free tickets to Lion Country Safari by visiting a new real estate development.  But Miami and Lion Country Safari are over a 3-hour drive from Palm Coast so it couldn’t have been when we visited there.  Maybe when we went to Disney World (only an hour and a half drive away)?  Who knows?

At any rate, more memories flooded in.  I do remember visiting a development, climbing a tall tower for the view, being totally bored (I was 14 or 15), and wishing we could just leave.  They were selling lots of land for something like $3-5000 which seemed an astronomical sum for a piece of swamp and scrub.  Today Palm Coast is a city of 80,000+ residents and the least expensive lots go for $75K.

 

But we all know about Florida’s boom and bust real estate cycle! I found Bubble in the Sun: The Florida Boom of the 1920’s and How it Brought on the Great Depression by Christopher Knowlton to be a fascinating and accessible historical account of the development of Florida’s east coast. 

One clear memory from those 1970’s trips was seeing a fully screened-in pool for the first time.  How cool, I thought at the time, to be able to lounge by the pool in your backyard all afternoon and evening, protected from mosquitos and other annoyances. Of course, now I think—what happens to those screens during a hurricane? 

Confession: they still look inviting.

How do you know you’ve reached Daytona Beach? Condominiums and office towers. We anchored in a spot just before the first bridge we’d have to get under exactly at low tide tomorrow and even then we’re not sure we’ll clear it given the high level of the river. Neither of us will sleep well tonight.

Post #45: Time Travel

Tuesday, November 17, 2020

We followed the Matanzas River southward for about 15 miles, one of our shortest travel days yet. The river narrowed after St. Augustine and we began again to see houses and marine businesses along the shores of the ICW.  This kayak rental spot sure caught my attention—clever marketing ploy, I’d say.

The closer we got to the anchorage recommended to us for the night, the memories began to flood in. We waited for the Crescent Beach bascule bridge to open for us.  I had crossed that bridge in a car many times back in the mid 1980’s. Mom and Charlie had twice rented a condo for a month on Crescent Beach on Anastasia Island, the barrier island east of the Matanzas River.  The bridge was one of only three ways to get on and off the island.  I remember how exasperated Charlie got each time he had to wait while it opened for some passing boat since you had to go off island for groceries, gas station, the airport, just about everything. 

I brought 13-month old Sarah and toddler Justin down to visit for a week in March of ’84 and ’85. The condo was right on the beach with walkways over the dunes and a stairway down to the shoreline.  Justin at 3 years old was so confused by the pure white sand that he refused to step onto it—he thought it was snow! I also remember on that trip really enjoying fresh tomatoes in the winter for the first time. I think I had had those mealy tomatoes packaged in plastic crates for so many years that I didn’t believe tomatoes could actually taste good.  Glad I’ve been disabused of that fallacy. Local Florida produce is delicious!

The name of the complex Mom and Charlie stayed at finally came back to me when I saw an ad in a real estate magazine. At the time they were there, I think there were only 4 or 5 buildings.

We anchored directly opposite Fort Matanzas, once a Spanish outpost protecting St. Augustine from the south and now a national monument. Like the Castillo de San Marcos,  it is built of coquina and has stood in this spot for over 300 years. It is surrounded by a nature preserve teeming with bird life and dolphins, and directly to the east (wait for it) we could see Summerhouse!

The fort and the walkways through the nature preserve were closed to the public but we appreciated some spectacular views of the watchtower.

Post #44: End of Days

Monday, November 16, 2020

We had originally planned to leave today but inertia set in. We spent the day watching bird and dolphin antics, doing boat chores, and then walked a few miles to the indescribable Sailor’s Exchange.

Unfortunately, I did not take any photos of the Sailor’s Exchange and the photos on their web site are copyrighted so I can’t download and share them. You can visit vicariously but know that Marie Kondo must have been there before they took those photos because, trust me, it does not look this organized nor clean any more.  Just imagine a maritime Hoarder’s Heaven or nautical Bizarre Bazaar. It was an experience.

The most memorable part was listening to the banter of the owner with customers and then hearing him sing along with the radio as we left, “I’m praying for the End of Days so I can end my days with you.” 

I forgot to tell you about the thrill we experienced this past Sunday.  We could see the fireball as the Space X booster rocket burned in the sky, hurtling the astronauts towards the International Space Station.

Post #43: Second Chance

Sunday, November 15, 2020

In all fairness, there’s a lot more to St. Augustine than just the touristy areas (and don't forget the beach!). It was wonderful walking around the mostly-deserted streets on a sleepy Sunday morning. Once off the major thoroughfares we finally found restored homes from the early Colonial era that had not been turned into restaurants or stores.

The house above is made of coquina (under a layer of painted stucco), a porous type of limestone made up of tiny shell fragments.  It is incredibly strong and resilient, which explains how the Castillo de San Marcos and other structures have survived for over 300 years.

Never one to pass up an outdoor brunch, we tried Schmagel’s Bagels.

We wandered around the Lincolnville Historic District where Martin Luther King had preached and led a march in 1964, prompted by numerous instances of Ku Klux Klan night riders terrorizing that neighborhood. There’s not as much publicity for this historic area but the story of its residents’ relentless fight for integration and civil rights in the face of daunting and violent opposition is testimony to their incredible courage and determination.

We also walked around the campus of Flagler College. It would be difficult to overemphasize the role of industrialist Henry Flagler in the development of Florida’s east coast. One of the founders of Standard Oil, he and his family visited Jacksonville, Florida, for the winter of 1878 on the advice of his wife’s physician, hoping (unsuccessfully) that the warm and sunny weather would alleviate her health concerns. But, like the Bensons, he was hooked.

Flagler returned to Florida with his second wife and in 1885 began his decades-long construction of the hotel and railway empire that would entice northerners to come to Florida—and provide the transportation to get there. He used convict leasing to modernize the existing short line railroads which he bought up, consolidated and expanded to form the Florida East Coast Railway.  Eventually it would reach all the way to Key West.  (We’ll see more of his influence as we travel south.)

Flagler’s first venture in St. Augustine was the 540-room Ponce de Leon Hotel, opened in 1888 and now the welcoming face of Flagler College. Designed in the Spanish Renaissance style, the ubiquitous red roof tiles and stucco walls seen throughout Florida can trace their popularity back to this architectural trendsetter. Louis Comfort Tiffany designed the interior of the hotel (including the spectacular stained glass windows of the dining room) and Flagler’s friend, Thomas Edison, was involved in electrifying the building.

Demand for “something to do” while visiting the “American Riviera,” inspired Flagler to build the 300-room Alcazar Hotel across the street a year later. It offered a casino, salons, steam rooms, Turkish baths, a bowling alley and an indoor swimming pool. It now houses City Hall and the Lightner Museum.  It is one of the first buildings in the U.S. constructed of poured concrete.

I’m glad we gave St. Augustine a second chance. We were even treated to a Maxfield Parrish sunset: 

Post #42: Tide is King

Saturday, November 14, 2020 

Geoffrey Chaucer may have said “Time and tide wait for no man,” but man, did we spend a lot of time waiting for the tides today. We are experiencing a “king tide,” caused by the rains from hurricane Eta, the alignment of the earth, moon, and sun, and the gravitational pull of the new moon.  So even though the bridges are supposed to provide 65’ of clearance from the water at high tide, with swollen waterways, that clearance is diminished.  We waited and circled for 45 minutes at our first bridge this morning until the height board read at least 63’6” clearance before we could pass under. Trust me, this one was a nail-biter. We could hear the bendable antenna as it rebounded off each of the girders.

It was a beautiful, warm (82 degrees) afternoon and since we were traveling on a Saturday, there were hundreds of pleasure boats out on the water—people were fishing, waterskiing, tubing, riding jet skis and other contraptions, and, of course, heading out for lunch on the water.

We arrived in St. Augustine, “America’s Oldest City,” at around 3 p.m. ready to explore the sights.

A blend of original structures (battlements and dungeons of Castillo de San Marcos National Monument built in 1672), authentic museums (the oldest wooden schoolhouse in the U.S. according to 1716 records; a boarding house from 1797), the restored buildings and streets of San Augustin Antiquo, and Ponce de Leon’s famed Fountain of Youth, St. Augustine also boasts Potter’s Wax Museum, Ripley’s Believe It or Not exhibits, a Pirate & Treasure Museum, and a Medieval Torture Collection. You get the picture....  

Wow, the place was hoppin’!!! The streets were packed—so much so that we could not social distance and only about 15% of people were wearing masks.  Restaurants were full to capacity with long waiting lines along the sidewalks, dance music blared from rooftop bars, families and friends gathered along the waterfront, and Christmas decorations festooned all the buildings.  What???

Unknowingly, we had arrived on the first evening of “Nights of Lights,” St. Augustine’s 27th annual two-month long illumination extravaganza that dazzles the eye and “welcomes visitors and locals to our beautiful cityscape.” We felt like we had entered an alternative universe where Covid-19 does not exist. We ordered take-out pizza and went back to the boat.

When our kids were little, we used to play a game where David was the Tickle Monster and Mommy was “Safety” and if they were touching me, the Tickle Monster could not attack them. We play that game with our grandkids still.  For us now, Onward feels like “Safety.”

Is it going to be like this everywhere in Florida?