Log Book: April 14th

Conditions: 65 rainy
Location: Cocoa Beach

On the ride to Cocoa Beach we got wet. All three boats were caught in a thunderstorm. The Canadians, being the first out of the gate had just pulled up to the dock when the downpour began. The Welch's were sailing and the high winds tore up their jib. Dad and I, being on the smallest boat, brought up the rear of the cavalcade but that was okay because we got the best of the storm, seeing some heavy rain but almost no wind. The town of Cocoa Beach is great, supporting a number of small stores and restaurants. A windy, tree covered street acts as the center of town hosting patio eateries, boutiques, and two city parks at either end. Dad's favorite store was of course the "hardware mall," a giant tool shop with everything you can imagine- pickle fermenting jars, drill bits, African Safari hats, etc. We walked around, looked in a few art stores, and caught a glimpse at the larger of the two parks, with an amphitheater for outdoor concerts. In the morning we ate a quick breakfast at the local coffee shop where they made their own pastries and heated them up in a brick oven. After much discussion all three boats took off for New Smyrna Beach. The weather was looking less than lovely.

Log Book: April 21st-22nd

Conditions: 70 degrees, sunny
Location: Saint Augustine

We left Palm Springs and had barely made it twenty miles before we came to a bridge that was "out of order." Four other sailboats were stuck for the night in the salt marsh with us. We had no choice but to throw out the hook and wait it out. Dad was not happy, he had been really looking forward to making it to Saint Augustine to meet up with the two other boats we had been sailing with. I don't know how, after all his years of sailing he hasn't learned that it is useless to set your watch during these trips - you just have to go with the flow. All turned out well though we had a nice relaxed dinner. Since we made it back to Florida Dad has been telling people that I am itching to get home. Summer is approaching New England, and while that is very enticing it is really not New England that I am itching to get to. I just want to see the next place, to have the next adventure, to explore more. Today Dad finally agreed that we had been moving up the coast at a snails pace and that even he wants to start our typical fifty mile routine again. This broken bridge isn't helping but the sunset was worth being stuck in time for (please see below).
In the morning we had a short ride to Saint Augustine and we were able to get in a bike ride right when we arrived the next day. Dad found a bike shop and got maps of some good routes in the area, the problem was that none of these routes told the average biker just how many miles they were. Dad is a very experienced biker with bike shorts, gloves, and seasoned techniques. I like to bike but I don't do it very often. Totally by accident we ended up on a route that was forty miles long. It was great, very scenic, but really tough. We saw farms, and forests, the beach and historic Saint Augustine but by mile 35 my brain was contemplating ways to fake an injury. We got dinner when we made it back to downtown Saint Augustine and then went back to the boat to fall asleep at around 7pm - clearly we were wiped.

Log Book: April 17th-20th

Conditions: ~68
Location: Palm Springs

We stayed at Tom and Kathy's through Easter and had a great time. Their daughter and son-in-law, who had also been sailing all winter were home for the holiday. It turns out that we had just missed seeing them in Hope Town, but their trip has been a lot longer than ours. They are coast guard employees, or as we like to call them 'coasties,' who have been on sabbatical for almost two years. They have sailed all over the Virgin Islands and the Bahamas. During hurricane season they had their boat hauled in Trinidad and flew to Europe where they bought a car and toured all over the continent; France, Italy, Denmark, Greece etc. They have about a million cool points but the best part of their travels is that they didn't stay in hotels, but camped every place they went. After Europe they flew to South Africa to go on safari in a national wildlife preservation called Kruger. The couple has the most amazing videos of their trip from Zebras, to car trips through mountains, to underwater dives in BVI. On their way back to Trinidad to pick up their boat they also stopped in Australia and New Zealand. They are single handedly the coolest people I've ever met. When they get home to CT they will start their new jobs in the coast guard in San Francisco. After we heard all of their stories my mind went wild with schemes to see the things that they've seen, to do what they have done. It's becoming more and more apparent to Dad and I that if you are going to sail to the Bahamas you are doing yourself a disservice if you don't go to the Virgin Islands too, even though it's a lot farther.

Log Book: April 15th-16th

Conditions: 20 knot NE
Location: New Smyrna Beach

Today was a long day of traveling. Dad and I fell behind the rest after stopping in Titusville quickly to pick up a boat part that we had shipped there. It was exceedingly windy making it hard to get on and off the dock. The wind wasn't helping us catch up either, since it was blowing right on our nose. By midday Dad and I were short tacking along the ICW to try and gain some speed, because motoring slowly right into the wind is not fun. The channel was about one hundred feet wide and the depth outside the channel did not support boat traffic making our short tacking exceedingly tricky. We might have grazed some sand once or twice. The inside of the channel wasn't too deep either so when a huge powerboat passed us at full speed the turf from hole 18 was laid waste in its wake - that's what it looked like anyway, as if we were sailing on someone's lawn. As we steered through the jungle of upturned grass I noticed the engine temperature spike to above 200 degrees and no water was issuing out of the telltale, not a good sign. Dad frantically turned the engine off and opened the engine room hatch, it smelled like the baking of pavement in the summer heat. All I could think was "another engine problem, we'll never make it home." Dad was clearly upset at this set back. We turned the boat around and began to head back to Titusville. After thirty minutes of downwind sailing we had made it pretty close to the harbor entrance at Titusville. We tried the engine just in case and low and behold the temperature gauges returned to normal and the seawater that cools the engine flowed out of the telltale again, a.k.a. success. We were saved! A piece of turf that the powerboat had drug up must have blocked up the intake valve that takes seawater into the heat exchanger which in turn cools off the engine. I think I could fix a car now with all the nerd knowledge I've gained about engines from Dad. After that the day got better, I saw a ton of manatees swimming through the canals and two flamingos.
We stayed an extra day in New Smyrna, fearing more rain and thunderstorms. Dad and I found a hole in the wall bar with a great husband/wife couple singing and playing the guitar, the place was packed. Dad also had fun showing me a shell gas station that looked like it was frozen in time. The meter still said twenty three cents a gallon and it had a propeller to show customers that gas was flowing from the pump to their car. In the morning we hope to make it to Palm Springs to meet up with our friends, Tom and Cathy.