Wednesday, December 8, 2004
Daytona Beach, FL
Shorts & Tee’s – St. Augustine
So, here we are, shorts and t-shirts, trying to get into the Florida groove. The weather is nice: 75ºF, sunny, a little too humid. We are relaxed, in the home stretch, beginning to consider our options before we move to shore, and planning the last few remaining weeks of our trip. It has been such a long journey, a tremendous amount of work, a terrific accomplishment, we finally get to enjoy the payoff. We feel great. What more could we possible ask for?
Well, I’ll tell you. When people consider a trip like this, they envision the magnificent sunsets we’ve seen, the crab dinner we ate, the dolphins that swim by, the sense of pride we feel for having set this goal and achieved it. All these things are wonderful. However, they are the imagined ideal; reality is rarely part of the consideration. While the ideal is part of the whole, it is only small part. Could there possibly be another side to this perfect story? Absolutely!
Bridge of Lion, St. Augustine, FL
St. Augustine Harbor at Night
Right now, I feel a little like an old Laurel and Hardy film. We’ve just made this long trip in our old jalopy. As we get out, I slam my door closed and the whole car falls apart into a steaming heap of mangled steel. Real Three Stooges type stuff. The description fits the current state of our boat. We’ve made this big, long trip down the east coast, pushed hard, crossed the Florida state line, and stopped in St. Augustine, Florida for a break and a chance to reflect on our accomplishment. Then, we drop the anchor and the boat falls into a steaming heap of mangled fiberglass. In the past two days, our house bank of batteries gave out, the electric refrigeration developed a major leak and won’t hold a charge, therefore can’t keep the ice box cool on its own. That, in its self is no big deal, as we have the engine-driven refrigerator, which works faster and better anyway. Too bad it just broke off its mount a couple of minutes ago and is completely useless. The tachometer of the engine is erratic and acting up. One of the motor mounts loosened up and the whole engine is doing this little dance in the engine room, causing the whole boat to vibrate and shake. And, to top it all off, the head is backing up. We are in desperate need of a marina to securely tie to, plug in to shore power, and do some maintenance.
Cannons of Castillo de San Marcos Guarding the Harbor
Needing a marina isn’t a bad thing. We understand there is an inexpensive one in Daytona, so we will pull in and try to get some stuff fixed. I’ve already called ahead and made a reservation. It is in our price range, which means I’m not expecting much. All we really need a good place to tie to, plug in, and pump out. We haven’t taken a marina since Norfolk (with the exception of Charleston, but we didn’t use those facilities, we just left the boat, so I’m not counting it). Basically, we have been self-contained the whole way down the ICW — until now. Not a bad record.
So, you see, things aren’t always ideal. I admit they are much of the time, but certainly not right now. We spent the weekend in St. Augustine, FL, provisioning, touring, and resting. We had a nice time, until the house battery bank gave out. We figured, no big deal, as we’ll just motor down to Daytona Beach, where Vanessa’s sister, Candi, is coming over to visit. She has a car and we’ll just take care of it then. Plus, we can plug-in at the marina in the mean time. So, we weighed anchor, called for an opening at the Bridge of Lions, and we’re off motoring down the ICW to Daytona. Now, EVERYTHING is failing and this is quickly turning into one of the worst days we’ve had with so many systems failing all at once. I don’t even dare try to sail — with the luck I’m having today, the rig will fail and the mast will fall off the boat. Besides, the stress levels are a little high on board right now, and we don’t need the added work load of dealing with sails.
Bing and Steve at Castillo
The stress levels are a whole other problem. Vanessa is concerned because I take all this stuff too seriously and let it get me down. This usually stresses me more, because I have the added stress of worrying about her stressing over my stressing. To relieve some of the stress, I try to explain, while, yes, I do feel under a lot of pressure right now, it is all part of the process I personally go through before prevailing and making everything work again. The process usually goes something like this: First, something breaks. Then, in my attempt to fix it, something else has to break, where I get angry. Here’s where it gets good because I try to fix the second thing and, while failing, I loose my temper and throw something that results in something else breaking. Next, I calm down and try to fix the thing I just broke, where I promptly cut myself to the point I am bleeding all over the place. Cussing like a truck driver is usually added for maximum effect. Then, once the bleeding stops and I’ve had something to eat to help counteract the blood loss, I refocus and somehow manage to repair everything, where I get to finally be happy and say “I told you I could fix it! It wasn’t even a problem. I don’t even know why you were so stressed out.”
Unfortunately, Vanessa doesn’t understand the process (I think it is a guy thing) and Binga certainly doesn’t help, as she is oblivious to the problems of the day and unintentionally adds to the stress by pulling out all her toys. This results in my tripping over her stuff, almost breaking an ankle, and completely distract my attention from the process. So now, I either have to break something else, or cut myself again to get back on track and into the process groove.
We’ll be to Daytona in a few hours, where I’ll promptly begin the “process.” I hope to have it all running again soon, but it all depends on how much other stuff breaks before I make progress. Perhaps the whole thing will sink the moment we get to the marina and step off to tie up. Not much point in worrying at all if that happens. We’ll have to wait and see. At least in Daytona, there’s a nice beach.
– Steve