CRUISING ADVENTURES AND GUNK HOLING IN SMALL SAILBOATS 14

Article By Richard Frye
Part 14 of the series: Backpacking On The Water

The creek looked like three day old coffee that needed pouring down the drain! Yes, it was that muddy! The outgoing tide did not help matters, and the incoming tide proved to be even worse with nasty brown foam being blown in by the wind! This was making a mess we’d all have to clean up! Nasty stuff that created a scum that plastered the snowy white hulls of our sailboats. I was informed later that this was not a normal occurrence, but I had seen it before in various places. I just didn’t pay that much attention to it at the time because it wasn’t as noticeable. This was bad! Shifting winds brought the dirty foam back to us caused by the winds stirring up the mud that was washing out to sea, creating turbulence that generated the foam. Then it was powered by the wind and would rush back inland across the water!

With the larger boats secured, I was rafted to ONAWHIM since I was much smaller and a guest of the flotilla. The dock was old and weather beaten to a deep gray color but still solid and serviceable. I noticed that most of the hardware on the dock was new galvanized, nuts, bolts, cleats, nails and screws here and there that gave one a good feeling right off! Along the side of the dock was a concrete launching ramp that would easily handle a trailerable boat the size of mine. I later discovered that the incoming tide was the best time to launch if the boat had over a 30” draft to keep the keel from dragging the mud bottom. Looking along the dock and toward the bank, lush grass blended well with the dark low tide boundary, and as I looked up, a quaint cottage came into view just 40 yards ahead. A Florida room with glass windows everywhere reached from one side to the other across the rear of the building, and looked out across the small creek and endless marsh grass. A post card view, no doubt!

What wasn’t glass at the rear of the building was painted yellow with white trim as was the rest of the cottage giving it French country flair. A man in his mid-60s came hobbling along the path to great the intruders! He hailed a greeting with an accent and now I understood the French connection! He was born in France and came to the United States after WW II. A member of the French Underground that had survived! A fact that was relayed to the group later. A happy smile adorned his face as the greeted us….the weary sailors!

A large charcoal grill was going and his joyful wife also greeted us while she tended whatever was cooking. The women of the group immediately congregated around her and we follow our host Pierre to the glass room. Once inside he poured us each a glass of French wine that was wonderfully aromatic! Quite a step up from what I was used to throwing down the hatch! A really big step! I couldn’t pronounce the name on the label but it sure was delicious! A toast was said about something and everyone raised their glass and quietly sipped this wonderful wine.

The women helped “Mrs. Pierre” spread out a buffet table eight feet long fashioned with tables pushed together and covered with a nice table cloth. I called his wife “Mrs. Pierre” for lack of knowing her first name, and wouldn’t attempt to pronounce their last name although I did hear it spoken once during our visit! We as a group would be here for a full day and night and possibly one more. That was fine with me as the company and hosts were nothing less than terrific and I had chosen to spend time with them instead of going my usual way alone! I enjoyed listening to these older cruising sailors talk about their adventures to far way places.

The thought crossed my mind as to whether or not Pierre had a sailboat. Turns out he did but he had moved it to a neighbor’s dock to make room for our group. I wandered over the creek, stepped out on his dock then looked right and left finally spotting a nice sailboat of around 26 or 27 feet with a long bowsprit making me believe she was a cutter. The boat was pristine even at this distance but I couldn’t identify as to who her maker or build was. She was a wooden boat with bright work that exploded with sparkling brilliance in the sunlight. I really wanted a closer look but was a bit timid about asking. As we sat eating around two large round tables I did mention that I would love to take a closer look at that boat! Pierre immediately said, “Sure we go after we eat! I take you on board my “Sweet Roma”! I was delighted and looking forward to it but chuckled at the name! Sweet Roma! My thoughts were of “aroma” like smelling something for what I thought was a practical reason or some type of tomato, but I was way off base about the name…. about as far as I could get! I was told later and in time for me to not embarrass myself that Roma was a word that meant one that likes to wander…like a Gypsy, and meant Gypsy in some languages referring to the Romini group of folks! Although Pierre’s dad was French, his mom was from the Romini people often called Romas that Hitler also tried to exterminate during WW II! They were from countries such as Romania, Bulgaria, Hungary, Greece and many more countries that I never dreamed of! The boat’s name was in reference to Pierre’s mother whose descendants as well as herself were indeed real Gypsies! What a surprise! And I should add to that as a learning experience as well when I realized that she actually lived in one of the brightly decorated wagons with her Gypsy family as a child.

These were interesting people to be around without a boring minute! Conversation was delightful and covered many subjects until the anchors of life pulled my eyelids shut as I crawled into my v berth with memories that would be with me for a long time! I took one last peek out through the open hatch covered with an old mosquito net at a million shining stars as blackness slowly took over and I slept like a log!

Not a sound during the night! But I needed a good night’s sleep and got it! At daylight I had my coffee going as usual but the others were lagging a bit! “Mrs. Pierre” was busy in the kitchen and the smell of food drifted in the air! What a way to wake up! Soon, we were all headed in that direction to another feast to start the day off! A warm greeting with a smile is always good for anyone! She offered coffee. I had my own cup filled, as the crew of ONAWHIM did too! Others gladly accepted a cup of fresh ground imported coffee! I wanted to try that so I quickly downed my cup and Pierre filled it to the brim! The aroma was rich and tantalizing! The color had a bronze hue and the taste was impeccable! Some of the best coffee I had ever tasted and I drink it black. No point in messing up something this good with sugar or cream! It would be repulsive to even think about doing that to this coffee!

Bacon, sausage and some other kind of imported sausage I had never tasted with scrambled eggs, steamed French bread brushed with melted butter and several types of jams and preserves. The meal was complimented with several fruits such as sliced plums, peaches and cantaloupe. There was more but I can’t remember everything! Way too much food anyway! But who could turn it down! Not me! The smell just made me hungrier and I ate twice as much as I normally would! I was thinking that after breakfast I should take a short nap! I wasn’t the only one thinking that either! The day was spent relaxing, fishing off the dock or engaging in good conversation concerning sailing. John and two of the others discussed things while going over a chart. I glanced at the chart of the ICW and retired to Sea Mistress to do some things….and the first on the list was a nap!

Now in early afternoon there were chores to do aboard Sea Mistress such as unfinished rope work that I dwelled upon to keep me busy. This was also a good time to refill the oil lamps that hung inside the cabin. Everything else was basically in order. I also checked the fuel tank on the small outboard and topped it off. I’ve always has a dislike for noisy smelly engines of any kind but there are times when they become a blessing and life saver! Oars are preferred by the purist if the boat is capable of using oars, and that’s fine if you are sailing in an area where someone is there to tow you home when your arms give out, the darkness catches you or the wind dies down and sometimes might completely stop! That’s when an outboard can be appreciated. Now if it doesn’t start for one reason or another, or maybe you are out of fuel…a new hell is born and you want to make it a permanent fixture to the bottom of the sea! Perhaps an anchor after you get through yelling and cussing for at least half an hour non-stop!

Band-Aid’s are applied to the blisters, and a full glass of Captain Morgan rum usually makes things better but still…… Being stuck in the middle of nowhere grounded on a mudflat fighting the mosquitoes or bobbing around all night watching for big boats that can’t see you isn’t fun!.... extremely dangerous!

As quickly as it started it all ended and we made our way through the narrows and back out to the ICW to continue our journey south waving goodbye to our gracious hosts. This time I chose to stay behind and let someone else lead since they really knew where we were going. Personally I didn’t care as long as the weather stayed warm and I knew I wouldn’t get left behind too bad. I had already proved that my ole girl could strut when she wanted too! The diesels on the larger boats thumped away and my little Evinrude whined like a small two stroke engine should!

The ICW looked beautiful with winds from the NE, steady at 10 kts and a gentle sea. This should be a productive day I thought. We beached on one of the barrier islands for lunch after a hard 4 hours of sailing and at midafternoon we were headed to our mooring for the night. This happened to be another small marina that was one of their “Stop Offs”…they called it a few miles up the creek! A nice place but not like the last marina. This one was primarily for fishing boats, the type you rented. No restaurant, just a small bait shop with a telephone, a tiny store and a very old concrete boat ramp beside a long. If you needed anything major in the way of food or repairs then this was not the place to be, but the folks were friendly and welcomed the group. Since I was midway back from the rest, my spot was the third one back from shore on the west side of the dock that seemed well protected from the wake of fishing boats or others that might venture up the creek, but we didn’t have to worry about any commercial shrimpers with their huge boats chugging by. They were further south in search of shrimp and wouldn’t be back in the area for a few weeks. According to the owner, only 4 big shrimp trawlers had residence further in.

This was getting back to the way I liked it. I cooked my meal on board, lit my oil lamps at sunset, and relaxed in the cockpit with nice toddy for the body! Most of us were close enough to engage in conversation without yelling! The sky was crystal clear with a quarter moon that helped make it a pleasant evening. I notice the water was getting somewhat clearer and that made me happy! I was looking forward to the emerald green waters of the south coast, but that was a 3 days sail at the least before I would see a drastic change.

The log reads: “Fall is in the air. Nights are cooler. Weather is perfect. Jacksonville in two days.”

I was included in the group as they discussed our next stops. For the first time I actually saw a little argument as to where they wanted to stop. One of the group wanted one certain marina. Others wanted another and so on! To me it didn’t matter! Tonight we would be at anchor in a sheltered bay not far from the ICW. This was a really nice spot but boat traffic was increasing, and was quite active after dark for a while, then everything got quiet. Two boats were rafted together and I stayed away from them as they were swinging back and forth in a current and would be moving later. I put out two anchors off the bow in a v shape and stayed put most of the night with very little pitching or swaying. Tonight I had canned beef stew with biscuits! Very filling with a cup of hot tea and I settled back to read inside tonight as the air was brisk. I fell asleep after a few chapters of “Two Years Before The Mast” by Richard Dana. A classic in every way, and wonderful reading for anyone!

Every cruising vessel should have her own library of selected books and magazines. I carried no less than a dozen great books, and took extra care to protect them from moisture and other damage. For the longer solo trips down the coast they became excellent companions for passing time!

I was about half way back from the lead boat and the last one. The wind shifted and I saw a huge spinnaker swell up on the lead boat. Been meaning to get one myself but just never got around to it. Extra jib, mainsail and genoa is more practical for me but a spinnaker would be a lot of fun on a downwind haul. My genoa and mainsail were pulling me along nicely and an increase in the lead boat wasn’t that noticeable, but I’m sure they did gain a bit of distance during the short time it was flying!

As the wind picked up I dropped the ginney and hauled the standard jib. Sailing was better now with a little less sail. Another crew member would have helped and I would have kept the genoa out for an exciting ride. This was not the time and the waves were getting bigger. A strong blow was coming in from the east and it was getting rough. I noticed other boats taking in sail and I decided to do the same and now reefing both sails to about half! I looked up and the sky was an angry dark gray bring gale winds the boats turned inland to find shelter and I raced ahead and caught up with the lead boat. They knew this area and scooted single file into a creek after we had been in the ICW for a short spell. Wind was picking up to 20 knots. Weather radio was giving me a forecasted possible full gale warning in less than an hour! Two boats behind me dropped all sail and were under power, and I was about to do the same as the creek narrowed drastically!

The creek was like a snake! Back and forth with sharp s-curves that seemed endless. After entering the creek and 15 minutes later we were tied up to another weathered dock and sheltered somewhat from wave action and rough water by the winding serpent shaped creek, but the wind howled like a banshee! We were tying things down as quickly as possible to wait out the monster that had come down upon us! Winds were now at 46 mph according to the USCG weather report that I logged! Not a good time for sailing with waves reported from 5 to 8 feet in some areas. A rough ride indeed with rain coming down in torrents! Everyone stayed with their boat and was quiet! No conversation while the wind sang with a horrible roar! Halyards slapped, boats creaked and moaned and heeled 10 to 15 degrees! This was phenomenal! Sea Mistress was not healing as much as the others for some reason, but over enough to make me aware of the seriousness of what was going on! The gale came from nowhere without warning! It was this type of weather that got people in trouble. Sailors and fishermen seemed more aware than a recreational boater. For now it was just hold on and hope for the best.

The gray monster left as quickly as it appeared and soon the sun was out again, the breeze gentle but the wetness of everything let us know that it was real! Now the humidity engulfs us and it wasn’t as cool and comfortable as before but downright hot and muggy! But…it gets that way in the south!

There was nothing around these docks, no buildings or even a boat ramp, but you could tell at a glance that someone had launched small fishing boats off a pickup truck or station wagon by sliding them into the water. One of the boats crew came over and said, “There used to be a small bait shop here but the owner passed away several years and the building was torn down.” Weeds were 5 feet tall where a shack once stood. He continued, “I used to stop here to buy bait shrimp and have someone to talk with, and found the place by accident while exploring the creeks during shrimping season in my sailing skiff.” He went on with his story as folks from the other boats congregated on the old docks to discuss what was to happen next!

The tide was going out and one boat already had her keel in the mud! I felt that sensation earlier and drew the centerboard all the way up and was still floating nicely with much shallower draft than any of the other boats. I stood watching and wondering what was going to happen next!