On the ICW, Sailing With Irma

September 11, 2017

Apalachicola, Florida

Getting ready for Irma, I spent most of the day either readying the boat or securing things on the dock or securing the Maritime Museum (we moved the museum’s Starfish tour boat upriver). I finally launched about 5:00pm. First, I motored to the river, then raised sails and began my journey to escape Irma.

I sailed along at a good clip, four or five knots, with the wind over my beam or farther aft (a reach, in sailing terms). I was very pleased with my new mainsail.As I neared Saul Creek, I saw there were many boats up there and decided to just keep sailing, maybe as far as Pensacola where my daughter and family had fled because it just felt so good to be sailing. 

I crossed Lake Wimico at dusk. The lake is a huge body of water, about five miles in diameter, and is quite shallow with a narrow channel cut in the middle—straying out of the channel was a guaranteed grounding. With limited light, though, I had to strain to see the channel markers, and it was not dark enough for the lights to go on. I was very glad to reach the other side, and soon found a nook in Searcy Creek to anchor for the night. At this location, there was almost no wind, but lots of bugs!

The next day I sailed/motored on, the wind not so favorable or strong. I passed White City and considered tying up at its dock for the duration, but went on until I just got tired and figured giving up the Pensacola dream journey was a good idea. 

September 12, 2017

Noon, on the ICW west of White City, Florida

Yesterday evening, I anchored, then tied together my dock lines and used my dinghy to tie to a huge Lob Lolly pine fallen on the sandy bank. This channel was cut to connect White City and Panama City, so the land is about twenty feet above the water with sheer sandstone cliffs on either side. I figured it would be sheltered from the storm. I set the anchor to the north of the channel center, and I figured my tie would keep me safe.

However, I soon found the wind shifting to push me into the bank and I hurriedly pulled anchor, untied my line, and motored out past the center to anchor again, this time setting it very carefully and letting out considerable rode.

After securing the boat, I looked for my dock line, but it was nowhere in sight. I figured I had gone upriver, so I rowed back about a quarter mile, but no line! Since the wind was strong, I used the sandy shore to pull the dinghy back to opposite the boat, and since the line was not downriver, it must be further up, so I walked several hundred yards. Well, the line was not there, but on my way back to the the boat, I saw a deer swimming the channel and it came out just fifty feet from me. Of course, it ran away in spite of my friendly sounds. The bank was too steep for it to climb, and it came back, stopping just a few feet away. We regarded each other, then it bolted.

My new anchor position seems to work, although winds have not reached 25 knots. There has been some rain, but not enough to swamp my dinghy. So, all is well.

I watched Oliver Stone’s Ukraine On Fire last night (nice to have a wind-powered TV and BlueRay player). Our government has its hands very red and our media feeds us lies. There was a coup, funded by NED, CIA, and State, abetted by US Congressmen, and the ensuing rightwing government has committed dastardly acts against ethnic Russian Ukrainians. There was no Russian aggression, either in Eastern Ukraine or Crimea—all stories of such merely propaganda. Stone produced his film right after the coup, so he does not follow up on the aftermath, but I understand that Ukraine either is or almost a failed state.

I have no cellular connection here, although somehow I receive texts and phone calls that I cannot answer. The only FM station is Fox News out of Panama City, and rather than listen to Glen Beck or Rush Limbaugh, I thought to write this little story. They tell me that the worst of Irma is over, but they keep referring to ominous rain “in the north and the east and the northwest” without any location information. Not helpful. Right now the wind is dropping, though, and it is a good time for lunch.

September 13, 2017

Johnson River, morning

Yesterday was shattering. I left my anchorage in the morning with the wind against me so I could not sail. When I passed the Port Saint Joe cut-off, though, the wind shifted to my back, so I raised sails and motorsailed along. Now, the problem with single-handed sailing is the need to leave the tiller and go adjust things, fix things. I did so by moving the boat to the center of the channel, then lashing the tiller. I would go forward, keeping an eye on the bank, and rushing back to the cockpit when too close. I did this successfully many times. The last time, however, I was too slow and after I got the tiller loose and turned hard to port, I ran aground. I tried to power forward, then aft, but I was stuck. Looking around, I saw I was on top of a big cypress lying on the bottom!

I went below for a rest and a think, deciding I could put my little anchor in the dinghy, row out, drop the anchor, then use it as a kedge to pull me off the log. Just then, I heard a boat alongside. Rescue! It was a nice officer from FWC (Florida Wildlife Commission), who had been tasked to “find me”, I suppose by my son, Adam, since I had been out of cell range for two days. I told him I was OK, just grounded, and asked him for a pull off the log. He politely declined due toFWC policy.

I kedged and kedged but other than stretching the anchor line like a bow string, I did not budge off that damned tree! Well, the tide will rise and float me off, I thought, but I noticed that the water was dropping even after four hours. It turns out that this location was mostly free of tidal action, but dependent for water level on flooding. I was out of flood.

I had told the FWC guy he did not have to call SeaTow because I could kedge off (“Done it before,” I exclaimed jauntily). Well, I could not kedge off and with the water dropping, I would be here until the next hurricane. I got on the radio and contacted SeaTow. It took more than an hour, but the boatman managed to pull me out without damage, except that his rope broke three times and I managed to drop his $45 hook into the water). The real damage was the $1200 charge! I paid up with credit cards, figuring I could get a loan to cover the bill until my insurance reimbursed me. It was now about 6:00pm.

I motored and sailed, then the wind shifted to my front, so I dropped sail and continued on to Lake Wimico, arriving just at dusk, like before, only duskier. I could barely see the green channel marker lights, so I continued on, relying on my iPad’s navigation program as my Garmin GPS was not working. I soon found the problem with the iPad as after I checked my course, my night vision was gone. A quick look to check position, and I was blind for a good minute. 

I proceeded from green light to green light, trying to pass them close to starboard to avoid hitting the red (unlit) channel markers on the portside (all these markers are sturdily set on wooden posts, so hitting one would be consequential). Then, I got lost and found myself rubbing the bottom of the lake. I just could not see the lights. Finally, the iPad helped me orient myself, and I saw a red channel marker just to my starboard. I was able to crawl through the mud and back to the channel. The damn green lights would just disappear or move around. At last, I focussed on one, the brightest, and made my way along the channel.

However, even though I could see the light clearly, I noticed I was going backward! This was very disorientating, believe me. It seemed I was caught in a spooky force determined to keep me in Lake Wimico, perhaps forever. The only recourse was my iPad which assured my 1) I was moving forward at four knots, and 2) I was in the center of the channel (at least according to the chart). So, in spite of going backwards, I finally reached the end of the Lake and anchored in this spot, fearful of going on in the dark.

It is only about seven more miles to Apalachicola, so I will now up-anchor and go home, hopefully without incident. The weather is dead calm and cloudy, but winds are forecast for SW, 10 to 20 knots, so maybe I can victoriously sail into Apalachicola!

September 14, 2017

Cafe Con Leche, Apalachicola, FL

I made it back! First, I stopped at Apalachicola Marina, and bought 20 gallons of diesel, then motored to my slip. Mike Hosier from the Museum, who gave me about 100 feet of new nylon dock line, and Mike Young, my old friend, helped me tie up. Even though I was exhausted from so many days of running forward and back, climbing down and up, pulling anchors, and not eating so well, I spent the day tidying up and restoring my boat home. All is well.

Reflections: I was seduced by the joy of sailing and should have stopped. On the other hand, I loved the quiet and isolation of my hidey-hole, I loved moving along the channel either sailing or on power. I loved rowing to the shore and walking along the isolated beach. I loved seeing the ospreys and hawks fishing, the mullet jumping, and that little deer. Also, I realize that if the storm had hit Apalachicola, I would have been in much better shape than those tied up in Saul Creek. The other lesson is I either have to set up an auto pilot or find a companion for these boat trips, especially for sailing. My dream of being a “single-handler is just not viable, at least not now. So, if anyone knows Otto Pilot, or Ottilie Pilot, please let me know!