Those of you who have read mostl of these posts know that I have arrived several times. I’d reached my “destination” in Elizabeth City, NC; Saint Marys was the end of the journey; etc. A continuing sense of arriving is one of the most rewarding things about this life.
Nowhere yet though has that intoxicating Wow-I’m-here, feeling been stronger than just now watching the sunset in a cove just north of Jacksonville with industry on one side (along with the zoo which has its own dock), funky marinas on the other, and a few derelict boats anchored just inshore. It’s not a particularly appealing spot but the little guy in my head keeps yelling, “It’s Florida!” Maybe it’s just a lifetime of conditioning to think of the state as a land of milk and honey with an endless summer.
The air is different though. Forty five minutes before sunset, it was 80 degrees and it had only dropped a couple when the sun reached the horizon under a few clouds. The wind is light and balmy but there were beautiful days all along. I can’t fully account for the feeling that this is what is outside the far end of the long tunnel of the ICW. Like I said, it is probably just the result of a lifetime of exposure to advertising and cultural myth.
The fog obviously lifted since my last post. The visibility comfortably exceeded the distance between day beacons just at high tide. The next high tide would not be as high so I picked my way very carefully out of the river and into the main channel. By the time I reached the public dock and free pump out just above the bridge where Sister Creek joins the Saint John River, it was tee shirt hot under clear skies.
I just had the first lines made fast when a young fellow came down the dock with a big smile on his face. It took me a moment to realize that it was my first employee. I’m used to people I haven’t seen in 20 years being surprisingly old but he was young enough that he still looks young. He works at the shipyard just across the bridge and was watching the SPOT. He and his wife live in near Green Cove Springs, my destination tomorrow, so we decided to get together there.
After pumping out the holding tank, I went through the bridge into the river. I love port cites and Jacksonville is a refreshing change from the miles and miles of coastal marshlands. I’m anchored in a large open area where I don’t need two anchors because of current or to be sure I don’t drift over a shoal. Tomorrow, I’ll pass through the city and then into an entirely different kind of waterway.
I still don’t have any ambitions to go farther down the ICW when I return to it from Green Cove Springs. I’ll probably turn left back towards Georgia and begin the slow trip north but I’ve changed my mind before.
Nowhere yet though has that intoxicating Wow-I’m-here, feeling been stronger than just now watching the sunset in a cove just north of Jacksonville with industry on one side (along with the zoo which has its own dock), funky marinas on the other, and a few derelict boats anchored just inshore. It’s not a particularly appealing spot but the little guy in my head keeps yelling, “It’s Florida!” Maybe it’s just a lifetime of conditioning to think of the state as a land of milk and honey with an endless summer.
The air is different though. Forty five minutes before sunset, it was 80 degrees and it had only dropped a couple when the sun reached the horizon under a few clouds. The wind is light and balmy but there were beautiful days all along. I can’t fully account for the feeling that this is what is outside the far end of the long tunnel of the ICW. Like I said, it is probably just the result of a lifetime of exposure to advertising and cultural myth.
The fog obviously lifted since my last post. The visibility comfortably exceeded the distance between day beacons just at high tide. The next high tide would not be as high so I picked my way very carefully out of the river and into the main channel. By the time I reached the public dock and free pump out just above the bridge where Sister Creek joins the Saint John River, it was tee shirt hot under clear skies.
I just had the first lines made fast when a young fellow came down the dock with a big smile on his face. It took me a moment to realize that it was my first employee. I’m used to people I haven’t seen in 20 years being surprisingly old but he was young enough that he still looks young. He works at the shipyard just across the bridge and was watching the SPOT. He and his wife live in near Green Cove Springs, my destination tomorrow, so we decided to get together there.
After pumping out the holding tank, I went through the bridge into the river. I love port cites and Jacksonville is a refreshing change from the miles and miles of coastal marshlands. I’m anchored in a large open area where I don’t need two anchors because of current or to be sure I don’t drift over a shoal. Tomorrow, I’ll pass through the city and then into an entirely different kind of waterway.
I still don’t have any ambitions to go farther down the ICW when I return to it from Green Cove Springs. I’ll probably turn left back towards Georgia and begin the slow trip north but I’ve changed my mind before.
There must be a half dozen of them out there now night training. Good thing I used to be a pilot and have positive feelings about flight training.
