Jan. 27

The forecast had said that the morning would be light winds but changing to strong in the afternoon. We decided to see if we could get at least two hours in and headed to the St. John’s county boat ramp in Butler Beach.

We were in the water and had rowed about 20 strokes when there was a loud snap. The starboard strut to my rigger had snapped off where it is attached to the bracket by my feet. To pull on my starboard oar with any strength would bend the whole rigger.  If this were to have happened anywhere else it could have put us in serious trouble.  I asked Heather to hold onto the broken end to add her support to the rigger, which got us back to the ramp. Phew!  Within twenty minutes I had gotten the struts from the spare RoWing I had packed in the car and we exchanged the strut, put the extra strut in the boat, and pulled out feeling very lucky. If this had happened yesterday while fighting the wind at the end of our row we would have been blown onto an inhospitable shore.

Once we were going again we started the best day of our trip. A good tidal current was pushing us, and a light tail wind as well. Ground speed was averaging about 5.2 and we had a few periods where it increased to over six.  Maximum speed was 7.7!  Almost 12 miles had passed before I needed to rest; a two and a half hour stretch without stopping. I  will confess that I might have missed a few strokes to gobble the last of our Christmas marzipan supply that Heather put in my mouth at the catch end of my stroke.  We entered a long canal, which was oriented exactly in line with the wind, which, around noon, had dropped to nothing for a while, and it was warm enough for all my shirts to come off.  For the first time on our trip I had to wipe the dripping sweat from my eyes. 

We saw a sandy beach on the port side and pulled in to rest and eat our cracker and cheese lunch.  After fifteen minutes of very pleasant relaxation I heard the sound of a large powerboat and looked out to see an enormous wake headed our way. The beach was narrow and our boat was sticking out into the water.  It would be swamped if we did not do something. There was not room to pull it up any further so we got on either side and lifted it out of the water in the stern to allow the swells to go by.  This worked but the waves came up to my thighs and splashed our lunch and the boat cushions we were sitting on. Lunch was over.  We returned to the water and began again our fast march down the long canal past the unoccupied, nouveau fakely (as opposed to stately) mansions that, side by side, line this Intracoastal strip of conspicuous consumption. Heather kept flipping pages of the chart book, a good indication of progress. I could feel the movement southward. 

We started thinking about where we should take out. I was not ready to think about it and several options for take out passed buy. The wind was increasing from the north and pushing us faster. Finally the route 100 bridge came into view about five miles down the canal.  There was a park with boat ramp there and I was persuaded that it should be our destination.  It came up fast and we pulled into its protected cove as large whitecaps were building.  Another just in time pull out had occurred. I climbed out of the boat at the boat ramp, pulled it up on the boat cushions and rollers and realized that my shirtless, downwind condition was not going to keep me warm enough. One by one the four layers I started out with went back on and then I found the wind jacket to add on top of it all. The gale force winds that got us here, now needed to be endured.  As much as the winds have prevented our getting on the water and making progress, today the wind had been our friend until now.

We knew it would take some time to go and get the car and conditions were getting worse.  We turned the boat on its side and made a leanto with it as the Adirondack guides used to do. Heather piled all the boat cushions life jackets and other gear that should be kept dry into this shelter and crawled in. We had discovered another advantage of our boat. Verna called and said she was a few miles away!  Soon the little red Audi convertible turned into the parking lot. I think we have met a saint. This would be the fourth ride she has given us as we passed by St. Augustine!  And it was a long ride. We had covered 24 miles on the water and it was at least thirty miles back to the car by road.