SV Gallant Fox

The Kingsley Plantation

A few miles northeast of downtown Jacksonville, Florida, located along the banks of the Ft. George River, is the old Kingsley Plantation. It grew cotton and indigo during the late 18th through the 19th Centuries, and had a slave population that resided in 32 tabby cabins located about 1/8 mile from the plantation's main house and outbuildings. Nowadays some structures have been fully restored, and the remains of most of the tabby cabins are there to be seen. The plantation is expertly maintained and interpreted by the National Park Service. It is accessible by both car and by boat, so there is no excuse not to visit and learn something about a very ugly - but important and defining - chapter in US history.

This is not a political blog so I will only say that one cannot understand the US Constitution, or the Civil War, or certain trends in 21st-Century public policy, without learning about the US's institutionalized ownership of human beings and the exploitation of their labor to produce cheap agricultural goods, thereby building an economy that would not have existed but for all that uncompensated labor. OK, enough: back to the cruising blog that this is:

The Kingsley Plantation is an excellent representation of what most plantations looked like and how they operated, regardless of what crops were grown by any one of them. I have seen more than one plantation, and believe you me, once you have seen one you have seen them all. Make the Kingsley Plantation the one you see. It is by far the most accessible, best maintained, and best interpreted. Even the Park Service's on-site bookstore is outstanding.

Why I Dislike The ICW - Part IV, Section A.1(e)(iii)

Some areas of the US East Coast's Intracoastal Waterway regualarly fill up with sand and silt from the small tributary creeks and rivers along its length. Certain sections are actually shallow rivers, themselves. This constant water action builds up sand bars, expands them, and sometimes even causes them to migrate from one point to another. In some areas the shoals are so active, nobody bothers to mark their precise locations on charts or in guide books. If the Coast Guard or a private entity marks the general location of the shoals with a piling, float or buoy, it's a start -- but it may still take some work to identify certain shoals that are well-known to the locals but not to folks just passin' through.

Case in point: the large crescent-shaped shoal in the Matanzas River at St. Augustine, just south of the Bridge of Lions and less than one boat length east of the municipal marina's south mooring field. This shoal extends southward about 2/3 of the length of the entire mooring field and wraps around its southern end. The shoal is 3 feet underwater and cannot be seen in almost any condition - until your boat hits it, that is. No charts show this shoal, not even the St. Augustine municipal marina's printed chartlet of their mooring field or the marina's web page. The marina will, however, advise you how to avoid it if you ask them about it. As if you would ask about an uncharted shoal you do not know exists.

Active Captain's satellite image of this area shows the shoal, and Active Captain links you to this .pdf from the St. Augustine's government website showing the shoal (in case the link is busted, it's http://www.staugustinegovernment.com/visitors/documents/FinalmooringplanSandM.pdf).

Boats of all sizes run aground here several times a week. That pic of a sailboat up there, behind that moored power boat? They were moving outside the mooring field when they got underway. That's usually the safe way to operate a boat. They grounded hard on that invisible, uncharted shoal, and they stayed grounded for several hours until the next high tide. Look at them list to the side as the tide goes out. Potentially that is very damaging to a boat - let alone what the grounding might have done to the keel. In this case the boat eventually got back afloat with apparently no great harm done. Which: Good for them!

What should they have done to avoid running aground?  The very counterintuitive thing: (1) know that the shoal exists before you hit it; (2) travel northbound in the deeper water of the mooring field itself, amongst dozens of boats, until you almost get to the Bridge of Lions, then (3) make a 180-degree turn around The Unknown Shoal to head south.

Technically, this shoal is outside of the ICW proper, but shoaling like this occurs at many points along the 3000-mile length of the ICW. I do not like the ICW. Or the shoals next to it.

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A Slow 100 Miles - Days 4 Through 10

[For my story of Days 1 through 3 along a section of the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW), go here.]

Day 4: Left Alligator Pass about 2 hrs. before high tide in Fernandina Beach, 10 miles further north. Had trouble finding deep enough water on 1st try; 2d try was able to re-enter ICW and continue north. Would have had trouble leaving anchorage on any but the highest half of the tide cycle. Briefly lost ICW channel south of Amelia Island bridges due to numerous crab floats in area. Briefly grounded hard as we approached the final turn into deep water south of Fernandina Beach; re-floated after 2 minutes of hard-over rudder, full reverse, spinning & twisting to break free.

Took a mooring buoy at Fernandina City Marina, dinghied ashore, saw sights. Fort Clinch is fun for fort fans. There's a dive bar along the main drag of Fernandina Beach a couple blocks up from the marina, that anyone who has ever been to Port Townsend, Washington, will recognize as the Southern twin of the Town Tavern. Including the heavy cigarette smoke and the hairiness of the bartending staff.

<--- A short way beyond the historic district on the road out of town, GB spied some fellows selling locally-caught shrimp. The Propane Chef is simply mad about fresh shellfish.

Later pulled dinghy out of low-tide mud (you know a dock is in shallow water when your dinghy ends up aground). Returned to The Fox - onshore action is big fun but mooring field is between 2 pulp mills, which: stinky, bright and noisy. Use earplugs and - when the wind blows right - extra asthma inhalers.

A Slow 100 Miles - Days 1 Through 3

I figured poor GB could use a break after doing a very intensive 11 days of boat work on the hard in Green Cove Springs, Florida, during early January 2013. (That's him on the ground in pic on the right, painting the last of the bottom paint on the underside of the keel just before we splashed.) Instead of my preferred strategy of sailing offshore for a night or two, I planned a slow, 10-day trip northbound up the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW), going only about 10 miles/day so that we both had plenty of time to recover and enjoy the marshland scenery of northern Florida/southern Georgia. Due to the extensive marshes in this area, it is less developed and has much less boat traffic than southern and central Florida. It certainly has its share of McMansions anywhere the ground is solid enough to build a foundation, but you also see stretches of wooded hammocks which support birds like heron, egrets, osprey and even the occasional bald eagle. Which is nice.

2014 Is Underway

Hope everyone rang in a very Happy New Year. We celebrated 1/1 aboard The Fox and underway.

Why I Dislike The ICW - Part II, Section D.3(a)

Charting errors can occur anywhere. There's a running joke among cruisers along Mexico's Pacific coast, about how the charts in certain areas - most recently surveyed in the 1860s by a US Naval vessel - are some 5 miles off. Everybody takes pictures of their chart plotters showing that their boat is on land, when - ha, ha - it's actually still floating just fine. The solution to those charting errors is to simply make sure you stay 5 miles offshore. It's pretty straightforward.

But there are stretches of the ICW with some serious charting errors, too. Problem is, unlike the Pacific Ocean, the ICW is only about 50 feet wide. So if you have a charting error, your margin of safety is very, very slim. Here are my pics:

This is The Fox, southbound along the ICW between Jacksonville and St. Augustine, FL. Observe we are center channel. The actual channel is steep-sided and much narrower than all that water leads you to believe; it gets very shallow as you approach either side. The water is so murky you can't see the shallows at all - your depth sounder tells you you're out of the channel when it suddenly goes from "enough water to keep floating" to "you have a problem." There are docks and McMansions to our left, and swamps to our right. Out here in center channel, our depth sounder is showing a comfy 7 feet of water under our keel at high tide (for a total of 13 feet of actual depth), and our knot meter has us scooting along at a nice 6.3 knots. Our chart plotter is that display over on the right side underneath our dodger.

Now take a closer look at where our chart plotter thinks the boat is:

The yellow areas are land. The white streak is the ICW. The line down the middle of the white streak is the theoretical center of the dredged channel. If I drove the boat following where my chart plotter says the center of the channel is? I'd be so far over to the left, I'd be driving The Fox into somebody's living room. Boy, would there be egg on MY face.

This is mildly amusing on a day with good visibility. But when you have to rely on your instruments at night? Or in fog? Or in heavy rain? Yeah: a real narrow margin of error.

I do not like the ICW.

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Green Cove Springs: The Town

Green Cove Springs isn't all about boat yards and marinas. A few decades ago when the Navy had a presence here, I imagine it was a thriving community with all kinds of businesses along the main highway through town. When the Navy left, so did most of the jobs. Like other small cities and towns throughout the US, you will see closed businesses and "For Sale" signs here and there in Green Cove Springs. But Green Cove Springs is still there - quieter perhaps, but still with an economy still capable of supporting buisinesses large and small, including car dealerships and car rentals, St. Brendan's Isle (an outstanding mail forwarding service for boaters and other travelers - check out their online demo!), Spring Park Coffee (a superb coffee house), and restaurants (including, to our pleasant surprise, a traditional Mexican restaurant/Latin grocery combination located along the main drag). It has a neighborhood with some grand old houses under even grander and older live-oak trees heavy with Spanish moss. And then there is the beautiful First Presbyterian Church, dating from 1884. Just look at all those gables.

If you find yourself in the Green Cove Springs area, take an hour or so to wind your way around some of the back streets. Have lunch at the Mexican restaurant, and grab some of the finest coffee in the state at Spring Park before you head back on the road.

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Critters of St. Augustine

Animals really crack me up. Take Mr. Peacock over here, for instance. He lives in the Fountain of Youth park grounds. Sometimes he flies up to sit on one rooftop or another; other times he tries to impress the ladies, like I caught him doing here. There is nothing funnier than watching the backside of some peacock putting on a show - it's like avian twerking. Especially amusing is when the females for whom he is performing, could not be less interested in the goods he's trying to sell. But there was more hilarity.

As soon as he heard my camera click, Mr. Peacock spun around to show off for ME. Nice try, pal.

Next up, a beautiful hyacinth macaw - the largest of the macaw family; this one works at the Gator Farm. You don't see too many of them around. Gorgeous - and this one is well experienced with holding still for cameras.

Finally, some special gators at the Gator Farm, piled up in the sun. The top gator is the smallest, and looks the least comfortable. But the bigger guy who has the small guy's tail across his face does not seem to mind, either. And you thought only cats slept this way.

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Why So Long In St. Augustine?

It was my sewing machine's fault.

Just as we were winding up our projects in preparation to leave Brunswick, Georgia, the last piece of on-board equipment to break down was my trusty Pfaff 1525 sewing machine. It got shaky, couldn't loop thread properly, gave some ominous clicks, and then spat out a couple tiny bits of metal from somewhere in its innards. Which led to a shriek and some salty words from me. But, Yay! No more sewing!

St. Augustine's Dow Museum of Historic Houses

In one city block in St. Augustine's Old Town, there is a cluster of historic houses. If memory serves, the structures comprising the Dow Museum of Historic Houses date from the late 18th to the early 20th Century, thus serving as a snapshot of American residential architecture during the whole time the USA has been the USA.

Walls now encircle these nine houses, and inside the walls they share areas of gardens and paths designed in various architectural styles. Each house has its own history -- but if you are not interested in American design and architecture, you may need to find other forms of entertainment. Just look on TripAdvisor or Yelp to read about how "BOOOOORING!!!!" these houses are and how "There's NOOOOOTHING to SEEEEE here!!!" Philistines. Go visit the Gator Farm and ride their zip-lines if you want more action.

As with every other form of entertainment, how much you enjoy looking at historic houses and masonry details in garden walls depends on whether or not you are interested in such things. As for me? Yes, please. That house up on the left there, has a foundational issue with a small sinkhole, which I find highly amusing. Because I do not own that house. And because in years past I have come dangerously close on more than one occasion to buying a house in exactly that condition.

In other Dow Museum houses (all of them in better condition than that red carpenter's house up there), the varieties of stained glass windows alone, kept me excited for hours. And by spending my time looking at old houses, I shorten the line for the zip-line customers. Win-win for all us tourists.

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