Jan. 31

We awoke this Monday morning and joined the Morales family’s rush to get ready for school and work as we needed to get back on the water early to get across the St. John’s river and down to the bridge at Isle of Palms where we had left for Daytona last week. We had been to this place several times to find the wind howling and been turned away. This time we would row in. 

As we left the ramp and headed out toward the River the wind was against the tide and stirring up lots of chop.  Wakes from a tug had washed us while pushing off so Heather was pumping and I was trying to row against the current while getting out into the main stream of the river. It was a bit frantic and a cold wind was blowing on my wet feet and hands, which were exposed.  However, adrenalin was warming me up fast. Heather stopped her pumping to exclaim “Oh, my God!” while looking ahead at some horror. I turned around to see an enormous orange container ship bearing down about ¼ mile away. It was turning up a wake about five feet high.  I pulled hard on starboard for a few strokes and we headed as close to shore along side the docks of a dry-dock company as possible.  We were sandwiched between the ship and the bow of a Navy ship tied up to the dock as the swell came by. We rode up and down as the swell past without a drop entering our boat. Following the ship was a large powerboat turning up a smaller wake that was more of a problem but we managed and then turned downwind across the river toward the entrance to the San Pablo River and the route of the waterway. 

The current was now behind us as well as a stiff northerly wind and we were roaring.  We passed under a side channel bridge where a strong current was boiling by the abutments on both sides.  With little room to spare we were swept through with my oars along side to make us skinny. The remaining six miles to the Isle of Palms landing went quickly and my hopes grew that we could manage to get a ride to the car and move north to do the one remaining stretch in Florida in the afternoon.  However, I had not been able to reach the contact at the Jacksonville Habitat affiliate and Bob Morales was busy so I called a cab. The cab came right away and took me to the ferry dock where, of course I found the ferry was on the other side of the St. John’s River.  I waited for it to come and rode it across. A nice man I had met on the ferry picked me up as soon as I stuck out my thumb and took me the half-mile to the car. But by the time I returned with the car the ferry had pulled out. I was hoping to catch the same one that had just delivered me.

The half hour extra wait had killed our chances of getting to start the next leg in time. So we needed to spend another night.  We decided we had imposed on the Morales’s too much and it would take a long time to get back there. So we found a room at a Best Western near the start of our last stretch to row in Florida.  I had time to go out and find a place to service our neglected car and get a box to use to mail our grandson the things we had “found in nature” for his show and tell. Lest he read about his gift on this website, I will have to wait until later to tell you about the wild assortment of findings Heather has packed up.