Well, if you have been watching our Journey, (both the boat and the cruise) you know that we have put the old girl through a lot as we traveled to the Bahamas and back to the states.

We have also been in full disclosure mode when it comes to the many issues we have had since returning to US waters. We ran aground twice in trying to get off the ICW into approved anchorages. We didn't share that, because, it was too closely followed by the storm and that really overshadowed what by then were minor tow jobs.

During the height of the storm, when we were knocked down, Al says I actually told him it wasn't fun anymore. I don't remember that, I do remember trying to climb over the top coaming to escape, and being face to face with the worst wind and rain and seeing that keel and wondering what the heck I was supposed to learn from going through this. I put it down as something that was a very rare and improbable to happen again occurrence. Part of cruising. Little did I know that Al's fun light had gone out way back at Rose Island.

The high winds had been delaying us more days than we were able to travel. It was as if Mother Nature was saying, "You had your fun. Now it's MY turn." So when we were towed off the mud at Ft. George River, and put underway on a day when we hadn't planned on traveling due to high winds, the die was cast, in a fashion. Al arranged for a wet slip at Amelia Island. We would come back for Journey when the weather and tides were finished with their tomfoolery.

Journey had other ideas. In the middle of the ICW channel, a sudden high pitched scream emerged from her bowels. Al ran down and lifted the engine cover, to discover the starter had engaged itself and was dying at that moment. We threw down an anchor, called Tow Boat US for the second time in less than two hours for a tow to the marina.

Sometimes life hands you an escape clause. It's not always easy to recognize it when it comes, and you have to be able to set aside emotions and act with a cool head when it presents. Sort of like that old joke about the guy on the roof during a flood. A truck, a boat and a copter came by to rescue him, but he refused, saying "My Lord will save me." When he got to heaven and confronted God about being, well, dead, God said "I sent you a truck, boat, copter. What did you want?"

A lot of people have waxed on about the best time to sell a boat. I can tell you it's when someone is standing there with cash they want to give you for it. We know we want a larger boat, and we will have her in a few years. In the meantime, Journey has been sold, and I have quietly entered the first stage of the mourning process. I feel for Al when it progresses to the guilt/ blame stage of mourning. But even boatless, I know it was the right time to do this. As Al put it, We have had a hell of a Journey, both the cruise and the boat.

On of the most wonderful things about cruising has been all the friends we have made. We didn't anticipate that. We felt that we would resent the intrusion of a bunch of strangers knocking on our hull at all hours, wanting to thrust themselves upon our good time. Boy, were we wrong about that!

I had begun blogging and joined a couple of social networks for sailors before we even left. It was amazing how these cyber-friendships blossomed and the way we were able to keep in touch as we all made our way towards the Bahamas.

I remember Veranda (boat name) hailing us as we passed through Beaufort, SC. Saw our yellow canvas and knew it was us. Later, it was Prim hailing in St. Augustine, as we passed through. Saw our yellow canvas and knew it was us. After a few more of these incidents from boats who had not commented on the blog, but knew Journey by her canvas, Al realized we were sailing around and among friends all the way to the islands.

After we arrived in the Bahamas, we made friends with other sailors in every anchorage, on every island as we went along. And still, we kept running into people off the internet sites. There was a memorable few days with Linda and Duane as well as Gigi and Vic who all hailed from our area of NC. We made new friends Shirley and Mac, Robert and Debi, and Guy, Steve and Sue. Too many new friends to mention them all. One of the special experiences was meeting my friend from SeaKnots: Suky.

One the way back, the story continued, as we came across a friend still going south, Seeker, from Oriental NC. As always on these occasions, a short VHF radio conversation had to suffice to share all the news and best wishes for our friends. And then Synergy, a couple which we had meet and traveled with at the start of the trip, and then left as they had to wait on their own issues, headed toward Journey, knowing her by the bright yellow canvas. Karen hollered her name, as I waved, then ducked below to grab the mic and hail Chris for the cheerful reunion conversation. Once again, it was too short.

The next afternoon, we were passing alongside A1A near Mananzas Inlet, FL. It's one of the few areas where the ICW channel and the road can share a view of each other. Al was steering, I was reading aloud. He interrupted," Our picture is being taken again." "A boat?" I ask. This has been a common happening since starting our cruise, and no longer a reason to jump up and wave. Must be the yellow canvas. "Maude, yer never gonna believe the gaudy boat I saw today! Looky here, I got Pictures!" Al goes, "Do we KNOW these folks?" "Why hon?" I ask. " You should look at these people, they're jumping up and down and waving like mad crazy." I turn around and look. He's right. I wave. These folks are too far away to identify, and they are hopping and waving like a couple of kooks. If we don't know them, they are defiantly certifiable.

That evening I get on the computer, and see that in fact this was Prim waving like a couple of loons ( their words!) and they are still in St. Augustine. They had recognized the boat by her yellow canvas. Calls were made, plans were laid, and we were able to meet and have dinner with Pete and Pokey that night. You know that feeling you get when you meet someone and feel as though you have known them all your life, and in fact just rejoined an ongoing conversation with them. It was just like this for us with Pete and Pokey. As it was also with everyone we met. No matter what turns our life takes, these are friendships that we will cherish forever.

It's amazing how a disaster brings out the calls from friends and well wishers. No, I guess what's really amazing is just how many people have gotten in touch to say they care about us, and wish us a safe rest of the way home.
And with thanks to all of you, Al and I have to report that we are now behind schedule, due to weather waiting once again. After leaving St. Aug., we were able to make only 40 of our planned 50 miles Saturday. Winds were increasing, and coupled with an unfavorable tide slowing us to 4.7 MPH, we tucked into Ft. George River and set the hook with extra aplomb. We had a feeling we would be in store for a few days of forced R&R because of a front coming from the west. It is set to bring a violent increase in wind Sunday night and Monday as it passes.
Yea. It's Sunday afternoon now. We started the morning with winds in the 18 MPH range and they have built to a steady 30+ MPH as of now. I really don't want to see the "increase" from this. Part of being a cruiser, I suppose.
So here we sit. It's quite lovely out, temps in the upper 70"s, sunny, just windy as anything. If you've read the blog lately, you will understand the reticence on our part to go anywhere while the forecast is for more wind. So here we sit. We are 635 miles from our home port. At an average of 50 miles per day, that's 13 days from now. But for this wind. And it looks like Tuesday might be the first day we can get moving again. And if I sound like I'm getting anxious to get back home, you are probably right. After all, that is our destination now. And I would like to reach it within a reasonable time.
With no way to get off the boat, I have to ponder the fact that the return trip has just been so much of the same. Three days sitting at Rose Island because of wind. Six days at Bimini due to winds. Three days at Ft. Pierce, for a wind storm. Laid up and hauled out for a day in St. Aug. 'cause of the wind. And now two days here ---WIND! Too much wind for a little boat like ours on the channels of the ICW. SO much for the theory that state one can still travel the ICW when the weather offshore is bad. This wind has grounded nearly everyone, with the exception of the trawlers and large motor yachts. And of course, there's no reason to be in a hurry, because the bridges won't open when the wind is higher than 25 MPH.
So here we sit.