Other Than That, How'd You Enjoy the Sail, Mrs. Hambrick?

We exited St. Augustine's Bridge of the Lions at 9:30 am Saturday, February 9th, rounded the RW "STA" Buoy, and set sail to Lake Worth; our last stop before crossing the stream to the Bahamas. With my brother, Ken, aboard, we had a crew of 3; greatly easing watch-keeping over the 50 hour sail. The seas were calm and the winds 5-10 knots out of the north. Pat armed with her newly acquired transdermal scopolamine patch handled the moderate seas with aplomb and no sign of seasickness.

With all sail set, we moved gently along under clear skies and warm temperatures. This was our first true sail since the leg from Cape May to Ocean City and it was heavenly. Our autohelm kept a good course leaving the three of us free to enjoy the day: reading, talking politics, and soaking up the sun. Sailing slowly at 3 or 4 knots fit our need to arrive at the Lake Worth Inlet with the morning light on Monday. We sailed all day, paralleling the coast about 5 miles offshore.

Pat turned in after a light dinner and Ken and I enjoyed the early evening, making slight sail and course adjustments. The wind had picked up slightly and the seas were running 3 to 4 feet. A stunning sunset preceeded the darkness and Ken turned in while I took the first watch. Around 2:00 am, Ken and I prepared to jibe. Almost immediately, the wind jumped to the high teens, gusting to 20 knots. The process of jibbing with the increasing wind caused considerable corkscrewing as we accelerated down 5-7' waves at 7 knots. Almost before we had come to our new tack, Pat came up the companionway, jolted out out a sound sleep. "I'm going to be sick!". And she was. Once again, Pat suffered the 'mal de mare'. We tried sailing off the wind to lessen the motion, but it was too late. We sailed all night in 20 knot winds out of the NNE moving gradually off shore. When we reached deeper water the seas moderated and with it the motion. However, this didn't help Pat at all and she remainded in her berth the rest of the trip.

The day dawned bright and breezy, moving the boat at 6-7 knots per hour. Beautiful deep green seas, an occasional white cap and blue skies became a stage when dozens of dolphin suddenly appeared. For hours they swam alongside, riding the bow wave, diving under the boat, smacking the water with their tails and jumping completely out of the water. You couldn't help but get the impression that their sole intent was to entertain us. Ken and I never tired of watching them. Only Pat's incapacity detracted from the best sailing day of the trip.

Our route south took us past Cape Canaveral and the Kennedy Space Center, the Space Shuttle gantries clearly visible in the distance. Into our second night, it became clear that Pat was not going to feel better as long as we were on the water, so we decided to divert toward Ft Pierce rather than continue to Lake Worth. This would require a night entry but enable us to be in protected waters by midnight. The Ft Pierce inlet is straight forward, wide, deep and well marked. Still, night time navigation presents considerable challenges, especially on a moonless night. Which of those flashing red and green lights marks the channel as we stare at a shoreline filled with an array of flashing lights. With no depth perception and no horizon, it can be very difficult. Nevertheless, Ken and I approached the inlet and picked our way toward the channel.

Ken was at the helm as I stood on the bow with my flashlight. Well into the channel marked by a rock breakwater, I suddenly saw churnning white water to port. My flashlight beam passed over rocks dead ahead! We seemed only seconds from crashing into the seawall! I shouted to Ken, "Turn right, turn right!" "Turn right?" he questioned. "Back, back! Turn right!" Ken slammed the boat into reverse and backed at full throttle. Slowly Live Now's forward motion stopped and she begin to back to starboard. Ken, seeing only the seawall on our right side, thought that I had mistakenly said 'right' when I meant 'left'. Turning right, pointed us at what he saw as certain disaster. With little sleep and exhaustion, an error such as this on my part could easily be made. So, with increasing and louder insistence and over his equally strennuous objections, we backed off, turned the boat and held position until we could figure out what to do. Reoriented we moved slowly down the middle of the channel to safety. On reflection, I am not sure now if we were as close as I thought to the breakwater. The churning, white water could have been the tide running out or, we could have been moments from ending our trip!

So, with adrenaline pumping and hearts beating, we entered Ft Pierce and heading up the river to find an anchorage. Several other boats were anchored but were hardly visible through our salt encrusted windscreen. After several passes through the anchorage, we found a suitable spot, dropped anchor, regained our composure and went to bed.