Juno 423: May 19-20 Our Crossing to the US Ends With Much Stress

As forecast, a southerly wind picked up last night at 1:00am, waking both of us up as Juno was bouncing so heavily there was no way we were going to get sleep. So we turned on the lights and considered sailing off for Florida at 1:30am since there was a good wind rather than waiting until daybreak when the winds were forecast to be too light to sail. We almost decided to leave in the middle of the night but unfamiliarity with navigating the shallows in the dark kept us from leaving. So we each relocated to less bouncy but still uncomfortable sleeping quarters in the living area of the boat for a little more sleep before dawn.

Dawn came, winds died, and we ended up motoring out Walker’s Channel saying goodbye to the crystal clear turquoise waters of the Bahamas. The motor stayed on all day and only after dinner, around 6:45 pm, was there enough wind to raise both sails and sail. Winds blew 15-17 knots SE moving to S all Thursday night. We got a 1.5 -2knot push northwards once we entered the Gulf Stream around 10pm, helping augment our 4.7-5.7 speed through the water. Lightning could be seen to the south, but too far away to be much of concern. Harry however was concerned by two rivets that connect the boom vang to the boom which had come loose. He was able to secure the boom vang with some line as a stop-gap measure for the duration of our crossing. On our first trip Harry also had to repair the boom vang on our return to the US. Hmm?

Perhaps even more troubling than the vang was a large storm coming up from southern Florida and the Bahamas. (We later learned that this storm spawned several waterspouts in the Bahamas.) Harry thought that if we were to encounter a squall while in the Gulf Stream, we might find that the sea conditions would get very uncomfortable very quickly. Thus, we made the tough choice to exit the Gulf Stream and head for St. Augustine, FL about 95 miles away over Beaufort, NC. It was a very hot and humid day, motorsailng much of the way to maintain a decent speed in order to get to St. Augustine before the squalls were to arrive. Around dinnertime, we had 25 miles to go, but a line of squalls was approaching from the south so we took down the sails. It turned out we dodged the worst of the rain and lightning but two hours later, the winds picked up to 25-30 knots and the seas got bigger, followed shortly with rain and lightning visible in the distance. We were now only 10 miles from the St. Augustine inlet and stepping up our speed so as to get in to the harbor.

One minor detail Harry mentioned as we were approaching the entrance to the harbor- we didn’t have the navigational chip for Florida in our chart plotter stationed at the helm so we would have to navigate using the iPad. Normally this isn’t a problem but it was now about 10 pm - dark, raining, and the wind and seas were still up and we were entering a channel that was unfamiliar to us. Sarah with the better eyesight took the helm while Harry held the iPad and called out navigational instructions. This tense situation only got more intense when out of the corner of Sarah’s eye, an unlit and uncharted buoy appeared within 10-15 feet of the boat. Some quick last second maneuvering avoided leaving red paint on Juno. Unfortunately this near encounter with an unlit buoy happened not once, but twice on our entrance into St. Augustine Harbor! We were feeling so lucky we didn’t end up hitting either of the unlit marks. Our radar should have showed these coming but with the heavy rain blurring out the radar targets, focusing on the iPad, and a bit of sleep deprivation Harry had forgotten to adjust the radar to eliminate the rain.

Once inside the harbor, the seas calmed down but now we had to find a place to anchor in the dark. Harry wanted to anchor off the old fort in the heart of the town so we headed about a mile down the ICW. However with all of the city lights, the strong currents in the ICW, and a very small but crowded anchorage area, it made maneuvering the boat and finding a spot in which to anchor too much for tonight. So we cut our losses, retraced our steps and headed back up the ICW away from town, about 3 miles. There we found a safe spot to anchor around midnight, and climbed right into bed, exhausted from the late hour and from all the stress, storms, and near misses.