Chasing Unicorns in Georgia

Sorry, what can I say?  At a certain point one normalizes to any situation and it becomes . . . routine?  No, not routine, but the regular ins and outs of everyday life start to feel less blog-worthy.

You know what, scratch that, I've just been lazy.  Anyway, we're now in Florida, almost to West Palm Beach, but I'll back up.  

When last I left you we were anchored off of Hilton Head Island in South Carolina.  We were waylayed for a day there, working on the boat.  We'd cracked the rudder body at one point and it needed a major overhaul.  Also, our foot-operated water pump was leaking and our drinking water was emptying into the bilge.  We found a West Marine on Hilton Head Island, but it was a couple miles from the water.  We motored up the river as far as we could, looking for a place we could anchor and paddle the dinghy to shore.  We saw a dock that looked private, and cruised by it every so slowly looking for No Trespassing signs.  When we saw none, we decided to avail ourselves of it. We anchored the boat, paddled over and tried to tie the boat of the way, then walked off the dock like we owned the place.  As we exited we saw a sign that read, "Call Security When Exiting the Dock."  Well, at that point we were committed.  We walked the 2 miles through a very private country club community, winding around what we later learned was the most expensive golf course on Hilton Head (so, you know, ridiculously expensive).  We smiled and waved at everyone going by which was usually warmly reciprocated.  We saw an alligator!!!!  The first and, so far, only of the trip.  Cody says they crawl around golf courses.  Anyway, it was cool.  We gave the guard in the security house a hearty wave on our way out, hoping he'd recognize us as people who were supposed to be there when we tried to walk back.

We made it to West Marine and found a number of things we needed, but not the seal kit for the water pump.  We got lunch at a New York deli, got ice cream, and walked back.  Our entrance back into the gated community went unnoticed, and we proceeded back to the dock with no problem.  Our dinghy was still there (hallelujah!) and we paddled back to the boat, spending the remainder of the day doing boat repairs.

Hey, did you know that Cruising is a euphemism for working on your boat in exotic locations?

We spent the night where we'd dropped anchor and decided to try to go up and use their pump-out and fill up water on our way out the next morning.  We had just hauled up anchor and were motoring towards the dock when we saw a man in a security uniform walking out the dock with an angry looking old dude who'd been side-eyeing us the day before.  Casual as hell, we motored right past.  Good timing.  

That day there was little wind, so we mostly motored, but on the outside, where it's cooler and we can swim (in contrast to the hot, yucky ICW).  In the last hour or so we were able to raise sail and make progress, and it's always a relief to turn the motor off.  

When we were heading south through the Carolinas we were informed by a number of people that Georgia sort of sucks.  No, that's an exaggeration.  They said that, "there's not much there," and not to waste our time on it.  We took them at their word and didn't think much of it.  What we failed to recognize at the time is that we freaking love places where there isn't much there.  

The eastern edge of Georgia is bordered by a number of barrier islands (I think it's called the Gold Coast or something) that are, for the most part, wildlife sanctuaries.  Many of them are completely uninhabited.  We'd heard good things of Cumberland Island, which lies on the Georgia/Florida border, but nothing about those to the north.  

The day we left Hilton Head we crossed into Georgia and spent the night up St. Catharine Sound, just behind St. Catharine Island.  The island is privately owned and set aside as a nature preserve.  In the 80's it was populated with Ring-Tailed Lemurs from the Brooklyn Zoo as an experiment in repopulation of the endangered critters.  They did well there, and successive generations have remained on the island.  They're feral but their food supply is supplemented and they're tagged and given vet care when needed.  There aren't too many places you can study wild lemurs outside of Madagascar, so lots of poeple come out and observe them.  After a nice night anchored off the island we swam to shore the next morning and walked around in search of the lemurs.  We found some cages they can come and go from, and saw some food bowls, but no lemurs, alas.  We did, howevr, see a number of extremely jumpy deer and an enormous rattlesnake to which Cody nearly became intimately acquainted.  

Although it was nearly noon by the time we left, we ended up having a fantastic sail down the coast to Jekyll Island.  We were very low on fuel and food, and thought we might be able to reprovision there.  We anchored for the night up the river from the marinas and in sight of Brunswick, whcih sports a huge suspension bridge.  We motored the rest of the way to the marinas the next morning, fueled up, and asked if we could dock the boat for a few hours to do some grocery shopping.  The woman at the marina was very nice and let us dock for free (well, free if you don't count the $50 we spent on fuel and ice) and gave us bikes to ride to the store.  

Jekyll Island was interesting.  On one hand it looked sort of Old South, but in reality I think most of the buildings were pretty new construction.  I think they filmed the Legend of Bagger Vance there (having never seen the movie, nor investigated this claim, I cannot say for sure).  But very bike friendly.  And expensive.  We went to the grocery store, which was located in a doublewide (I think so it's less of a big deal if it gets washed away in a hurricane) and spent too much money on groceries.  Then we rode back to the boat and had a fight about spending too much on groceries.  I mean, it was hella expensive, but we were pretty much out of food, unless you count dried beans and tea, which I don't.  Then we anchored off the marina and spent the remainder of the day off Jekyll Island, for want of motivation to go elsewhere.  

The next morning we made the 25 mile motorsail (more motoring than sailing due to some rather meager winds) to Cumberland Island.  This was the one place in Georgia that came with a glowing recommendation and we were eager to explore.  It was blazing hot when we dropped anchor so we immediately rowed the dinghy to shore and hiked across the island to the Atlantic-side beach.  The island is amazing - covered in early 20th century ruins (I believe it was the Carnegie family who owned it and put up most of the construction) that were so damaged in one hurricane or another that the island was designated a national wildlife preserve.  There are numerous wild horses, armadillos, and a beachfront that is visited by nesting loggerhead sea turtles. Due to the shallowness of the Atlantic along the Georgia coastline the water, even in the Atlantic, was nearly as warm as the air.  It was hard to tell if it was warmer in our out of it, but still, nice to go for a swim, play in the surf, and realize that, at long last, the water was taking on that crystal clear quality for which we'd been long searching.  

We were still losing most of our fresh water from our tank into our bilge due to the leaking foot pump, and we'd disconencted the lines running to it to keep the boat from becoming too swampy.  After much calling around and internet searching we decided the only way we were going to obtain a new seal kit would be to have it shipped to West Marine in St. Augustine, FL, about 50 miles to the south of us.  It wouldn't arrive for several days, so we had some tiem to kill.  Better behind this beautiful island than in a city, we reasoned, and consequently spent 5 days anchored behind Cumberland.  At one point we made the 5 mile hop to Fernandina Beach for fuel, laundry, and the requisite ice cream cone, but in general, Cumberland had everything needed for human contentment.  The ferry that visited the island 3 times a day sold ice, and there was fresh water at the dock (it was well water, and tasted strongly of sulpher, ut it was potable.  A cute hippy couple we met (on the solstice, because they spend every  summer solstice on the island, because magical things happen) told us that the sulpher would keep the bugs away.  Mostly it just tasted like sulpher and resulted in higher than normal iced tea consumption).  Ice and water, together with the numerous smalll sea turtles we'd see in the morning and a general lack of obnoxious people, left us extremely content.  We went for a couple runs, swam a lot, baked bread, and felt like we were on vacation.  It was magical.  

A little aside on the sea turtles.  Early in the morning we'd be sitting on the boat, drinking coffee and tea as usual, and we'd hear a small disturbance in the water.  We'd glance over and see a wee sea turtle head emerging from the water.  As soon as you saw them, they'd duck under water again, quick as can be.  A minute or two later the process would repeat itself.  It was sort of magical.  Sea turtles are like unicorns. (other animals I've compared to unicorns on this trip include dolphins, sting rays and alligators).   

Finally, on Sunday (the part was scheduled to arrive at West Marine on Tuesday) we pulled up anchor and bade farewell to our little idealic island.  

I deeply regret cutting bangs back in March.

Baby horse!

Isn't she lovely?

There is scarcely a day that goes by that Cody and I don't turn to each other and say, "gee, you got a lot of sun today." Probably the most tan I'll ever be. Like, ever.