December 1 3 Kingsley Plantation to Jacksonville and two Lay Days There 19 8 Miles

The passage, under motor, was uneventful. I was a bit disappointed to miss out on the tide up the St. Johns River. If we had started a bit later we would have caught more favorable tide.  This large suspension bridge had a high tech industrial appearance, less graceful than others, I thought.

 We passed a large cruise ship about ten miles before the city and waved to the passengers. I had not known that Jax was a cruise ship port. The trip up the river about 15 miles reminded me a bit of Norfolk with a large military presence, and huge commercial shipping. Watching the mammoth cranes at work -- sliding out and picking up or putting down shipping containers so quickly was rather amazing. They must have a computer program to tell it what to do because each trip out over the water between ship and shore involved two containers -- one off and one on.
Jacksonville was named after President Andrew Jackson who made his name by killing Native Americans in Florida, and is the largest city we have visited since leaving New York, almost two months ago.
Jacksonville Landing, on the river, at the heart of the downtown area was apparently intended as a version of the commercial activities of New Yorks South Street Seaport Museum. But it has fallen on hard times and the stores are mostly fast food restaurants. (So we ate at Hooters, a first time experience for me as was eating a corn dog for lunch the next day).  But the City offers its seawall, perhaps 200 yards of floating dock -- free -- for up to three nights. And there is water so ILENE got a thorough bath, but there is no electric, showers or help getting on or off. The Landing has a bad reputation for subjecting boaters to petty crime and pan handling. An alternative is a different free municipal marina where one can also get electricity for $8.00 per night, and which is not near pan handlers. But it is 1.5 miles from the downtown area, we did not fear panhandlers and did not experience any problems.

They say you have to raft up to other boats -- up to five abreast!!  -- if there are more boats than wall space. This could be quite difficult considering the current that runs in the river. But we were the only boat there when we arrived in the early afternoon, and no rafting was needed during our three nights; and we could have stayed longer had we wanted. The photo was taken after we left, and the only boat is the one just to the left of where we were tied up, below the Hooters.
We visited the Cummer Museum. Not a bad try for a smaller city like this. It was in the Cummer mansion, with additional buildings and had three lovely formal gardens out back, fronting the river, English, Italian and the third by Frederick Law Olmstead, designer of New Yorks Central Park. The city has a municipal trolley- looking bus system. Its route is listed on the tourist maps and would have taken us to the museum $.75 per person, one way. We waited for almost an hour before some kind person showed us the inconspicuous sign which had been pasted up that said that service had been discontinued as of the day before. So we took a cab, walked to the new Fresh Market nearby and got another cab back to the boat.  I also visited a somewhat disorganized maritime museum located in JVille Landing, and we took the free skyway, an elevated railroad that connects different parts of the city (sort of like the systems at New Yorks airports) to an excellent and popular restaurant, B.B.s, at the end of the line on the other side or the river and walked back across the Main Street Bridge.

We were lucky to make this bridge opening on our way in. There was construction and all of the associated equipment had to be removed before they could raise the bridge, causing a delay that permitted us to avoid waiting almost an hour for the next opening.
We enjoyed visitors here: Michele and Manu, whose "TeePee" is in a marina at Green Cove Springs, another 20 miles up the St. Johns River, where they are readying her for the Bahamas. They came by car and after several hours of talking and eating we went to the  monthly arts walk including a free guided tour of the Jacksonville Theater, built in 1927 and renovated in the 80s, including its backstage and dressing rooms; sort of a mini Radio City Music Hall. The central business district was done up in booths with artisans and crafts people; many live music events reverberated in the streets.
We visited the Museum of Contemporary Art to see what all the controversy was about: The day before we arrived, a painting of a nude pregnant woman on display there had been denounced as pornographic by the city manager. It was not, but his criticism ensured large crowds and pickets defending the arts. Shades of Mayor Rudy Guiliani.  Then, back at the boat, Lene cooked up that sweet potato pasta as a prima vera for dinner aboard for the four of us. A good time. One Floridian described Jacksonville to me as "the armpit of Florida". We had only a few days there but his criticism seemed harsh.

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December 4 9 Jacksonville to St Augustine and Five Lay Days There 46 8 Miles

Bridges made this passage a long one. JVilles Main Street Bridge had requested advance notice so I called the afternoon before our departure and requested a 7:30 am opening and was told OK. I told other boats who were planning to leave that day and all of us prepared to be underway, near the bridge, before 7:30. But one of the other boats called again in the morning to confirm and was told that they were not allowed to open between 7 and 8:30. If the tender had told me this the day before we would all have left at 7, but we had to hang on the dock for another hour plus.

We did not make it out until 8:30 and hence got a somewhat late start considering the distance. ILENE soon led the way and hoisted the small jib to supplement the engine.  But the tide was again only slightly favorable at the start, growing in speed until the right turn, south, into the ICW. There, of course, the same tide was then against us, for several hours.

The only rough spot in the ICW was at the Salamander Landing Bridge, which was high enough but narrow which channelled the tidal waters to run through it fast against us. Bridges, even modern ones on concrete pillars, tend to block the wind somewhat, thereby reducing the efficiency of the sail. But the biggest cause of the sudden drop of speed from 4.8 to 1 knot in a tight swirly spot was the force of the water rushing past us -- like at Hells Gate. Lene had the helm. She cranked the engine a bit higher than we like to run her, for about two minutes, and the danger was past. Then, it became a race for the Bridge of Lions, that crosses the ICW a few hundred yards north of the St Augustine Municipal Marina, which provides moorings.

I got a wonderful pleasant surprize from my beloved Lene today. She has often criticised me for tweaking the sail trim too often. She had the helm and gave me several suggestions to ease or harden the sheet in response to minor changes of course mandated by curves in the ICW and of wind speeds. And her suggestions were correct. The last vestiges of her claim: "Im not really a sailor!" are now toast!! Lene IS a sailor!

But more than five miles before the Bridge of Lions we figured out that we could not go fast enough to make it to its 4:30 opening, and would have to wait until 5:30. So we slowed down the engine, later took in the sail and eventually turned off the engine to simply float with the tide. But we still got there 35 minutes early and had to motor slowly, away from the bridge to try to maintain an approximately geostationary position against the tidal flow. And we got to our mooring after sunset but before dark. Technically this is called between civil twilight and nautical twilight. Underway from 8:15 to 5:45; a long day.

It is the holiday season in St. Augustine with its Christmas parade, including all sorts of clubs and businesses and every school with either a band or a high powered blast of recorded Christmas music. And the central plaza is lighted extensively. One evening saw the end of the annual "Night Watch". Groups of costumed British, Hessian, Native American and Colonist "reenactors" spent the night partying and then marched to the square to hear a reading of the "Proclamation of Freedom" from the Spanish.

We actually skipped the festivities. Its funny though, there are many Hispanic restaurants in town and most of the downtown streets have names such as Castillo, San Marco, Menendez, Ponce de Leon, Sevilla, Carrera, Valencia, Cordova, Ribiera and Aviles. Though I have been told that they regained these Hispanic names from the Anglican ones in the 1920s to promote tourism.
We have had some good weather hours here, but two of the days were very foggy (as had been one in JVille). Fog is less frequent here than in New England but just as unpleasant. And we also had two days of windstorm, making us happy that we were on a mooring rather than anchor. They are called "northers," and mark the passing of a cold front. This one gave us about 48 hours of 25-30 knot winds from the north. The first day we decided to forego the dink, which would have meant a wet ride, and take the marinas launch in to town, even though its hours are inconvenient -- only at 10, 12, 2, 4, and 6.  But the second day of the wind storm, our plan to leave that day having been adjourned, the launch came out to yell that it was too dangerous for them to take is in. So we had a day aboard for reading, blogging, correspondence and I plotted out the routes and distances of each remaining leg from here to the Dry Tortugas. It was a roly day because the strong north or south flowing tidal currents determine which way the goat faces, but the stong northerly winds, when in opposition to the currect turn the boat so it is not facing the wind, causing it to be rocked by the waves coming at the side.

 Notice boats facing different ways, the one on the right is "pinned" with its mooring ball rubbing at its side rather than out in front

We had breakfast at a Athena, a greek restaurant one day, lunch at O.C. White, an American fish place, another and pizza for dinner on our last night. The lunch was with Dean and Susan of "Autumn Borne" and their friends, Cathy and Earl, from North Carolina, of  s/v "Seeker". The Autumn Borners shared a bottle of wine with me another night,
For all the many folks who have had blueberry and or mango pancakes on ILENE, you have to come back. Why? To try the new and definitely improved sweet potato ones we tried.

Ilene spent quite a bit of time in the laundry room lounge, not just doing laundry, but also watching her TV programs on the excellent wifi -- excellent except that it does not reach the boat, half a mile away. I visited a store that sells used and some new boating stuff. I was looking for a teak pencil holder to attach to the nav station so I wont have to open its desk top to get a pencil. While they had a lot of stuff including lots of teak fixtures, this item was not among them. I did get a set of running lights for the dink to replace the ones that had gone bad. I wish there was such a store in the NY area. Another day I paid $5 for a round trip in a van to a supermarket to get everything on Lenes list.
I also polished and waxed more of the exterior stainless. And with Deans help we overcame a problem with coffee one morning: No propane was flowing to the stove. I checked the fuse, that the tank was full and got out the documentation we have on the Trident propane control and detector system. Dean brought a thermos of hot coffee with him and we continued to try to localize the problem. He took apart the solenoid. The electricity either turns it on to allow the flow of propane from its outside locker to the stove or cuts off that flow when a connected sensor detects a leak in the cabin. Finally we discovered the problem: a butt connector (it joins two wires, end to end, to allow electricity to flow from one through the other) under the galley sink had come loose. A wire was just dangling there. So crimping on a new connector solved the problem. Thanks again Dean, and for the coffee too!
During Lenes marathon sessions with Breaking Bad, I did some sightseeing. Not the fort and the two big former luxury hotels now a museum and a college. We had toured them in 2012. Instead, one afternoon I visited about ten of the many galleries. My favorite was Bouvier Maps and Prints on Avila St., (the oldest street in the US). Im juist a sucker for poring over maps, including expensive antique maps. Mr. Bouvier did not have charts published by the US Navy Hydrographic Office but many others of ports we have sailed in.
I also took the tour of the Hispanic Military Hospital Museum.

The young lady explained that Spanish society had developed much higher standards of certification of medical service providers and, more importantly, sanitation, compared to the British. She attributed this to the influence of the moors in Spain for hundreds of years, for whom hand washing, for example, is a religious obligation. I further attributed it to the influence of Jewish physicians such as Rabbi Moses Mainonides, the personal physician of the moorish ruler, on the moors. I also toured an exhibit in the town hall that, like all the others celebrated Floridas cultural diversity.

Another day I visited the Barracks, now the headquarters of the Florida National Guard with this brilliantly polished brass cannon out front,

the Royal Bakery (disappointingly now simply an auto garage), and the Gonzalez-Alvarez House, reputed to be the oldest, with its coquina (shell limestone) Hispanic first story and a wooden British second story having been added. The docent revealed that in the Victorian period the new owner had added Victorian additions that the Historical Society had removed after it took over the house in 1918. More cultural exhibits, followed by a room of maps of the world and later Florida, from the 16th through the 21st centuries. And there are more historic sites to visit on future stops in St. Augustine.

Actually we had planned only three lay days here and ended with five. The first of the extra days was while the wind howled. The second was also related to the wind. It had kicked up a sort of "storm surge" which raised the water level in the ICW. When we approached the first fixed 65 foot high bridge, about two miles south of the mooring at about 8 am, we took a look at the white board with numbers showing the feet above the water level that the bridge is. The water washed it at 62 feet that morning and our mast is 63.5 feet above the water. So I slammed us into reverse and gave a lot of throttle to overcome our seven knot forward speed and get away from the bridge. And the water was scheduled to rise until 10 am and not get low enough until the afternoon, too late to start a passage of more than 40 miles. So we went back onto our mooring to wait until the next day.

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