A Foggy New Year's Eve

I'm sure a lot of people are pretty foggy after celebrating New Year's Eve but that's not what I'm talking about here.

After flying to Pittsburgh on Christmas Eve for the holidays, staying in a different hotel every night (in addition to one very fun night at an old friend's home), eating too much, longing for a minimal amount of family drama, not enjoying the cold gray skies and hoping we wouldn't end up in a ditch like lot of other travelers we drove past on the Interstate during a particularly slicker than snot snowfall, we finally landed back in sunny Florida.

Hmmm, we wondered, what should we do for New Year's Eve?

We decided if Mother Nature would cooperate we'd go ahead and anchor out for the night and relax.

Check it out.

No snow, no gray skies, and no winter coats.

Only sunny skies and a smile!




We only went a few miles out into the local bay and by 2 PM or so we dropped the hook and realized it's been at least seven months since we last anchored.

Another couple in our marina also headed out for the evening and we ended up anchoring next to each other. Rich dinghied on over shortly after we anchored and the general consensus was that we'd all go ashore later on and enjoy some local sights.

At one point we happened to glance up and realized the far shore line had disappeared and it was only about 4 o'clock. And just like a horror movie we watched as a dark gray cloud rolled over the water headed right in our direction gobbling up all boats in its path. It was moving along at a pretty good clip when Rich decided it was time to head back to his own boat.

Then a sail boat appeared out of the mist and we watched them try unsuccessfully to drop their anchor several times. Perhaps they thought we looked like we wanted company because the next thing we knew they were right beside us and the captain ordered his crew to drop their anchor. Hans quickly got their attention (I very seldom hear Hans yell and yes indeed his voice carries through fog!) and let them know they needed to move on along. He also told them there was tons of room directly astern of us but instead they continued blindly on into the anchorage.

I have no idea where they ended up.

By 6 PM we couldn't see beyond our life lines nor could we see one anchor light. I'm just glad we anchored so early, I wouldn't have wanted to be underway in that mess and needless to say we never did go ashore.

But by 9:30 or so, the fog lifted and we were treated to a beautiful view of a perfect half moon, tons of stars and anchor lights, and an unobstructed view of the shore line.

What we didn't enjoy were the fireworks because we never saw any! There were a few small displays far inland but that's not what we'd been expecting.

Wilbur gave Hans his New Year's kiss early. After a day on the water and only being able to use one light inside since our house battery bank informed us that it too would like a vacation, we were in bed and asleep by 10:30. This is the first time I can remember in my life that I didn't ring in the New Year.

Wilbur enjoyed his stay at Doggy Day Care while we were gone but was glad to get back home and hit the water. He's a true Salty Dog.

He was kind enough to hold this pose while I ran to get the camera. He knows everyone looks forward to pictures of his handsome pitty self.

It was an interesting year for us but thankfully we got through it and somehow I don't think this year will be any less crazy.

Wilbur goes AWOL

We motored into Palm Cove Marina in Jacksonville, FL on Sunday, got cleaned up and headed out to dinner with our departing guests. Unfortunately I forgot to take my camera and didn't get any pictures. Craig (who lives in Jacksonville) had already arranged to take Monday off from his job and came back to the marina in order to give Hans a hand with replacing a piece of brass plumbing that burst this winter due to freezing. We had paid to have the boat winterized and were a little concerned when upon getting back aboard we didn't see any 'pink' (anti freeze) in our lines. Long story short, a pipe burst and we were finally able to take time to repair it. Hans emailed the boat yard that performed the winterization, and they agreed to reimburse us for the materials and the extra day we had to spend at the marina in Jacksonville. They (and we!) are lucky that Craig is very handy and was able to help Hans replace things properly.


Wilbur loves to check his Facebook account whenever he can. Although after his shenanigans of this morning I think he's going to find that a lot of his privileges are going to be revoked.

"A little privacy please!"









We decided that in order to catch the right tides for our trek to St. Augustine, we should get out bright and early this morning.



Easier said than done when you wake up to pea soup!
This is the marina as I observed it from our stern.

The boat next to us finally decided to venture out at around 10:30 AM.

Here he is crossing our stern.

And just a little way past us. You can see how foggy it still was.

He was back in about 15 minutes and said that it was like a curtain of white in the ICW. I told him that in the 15 minutes he was gone that he'd missed some huge drama at our dock.

So this is what happened.

Hans and I had started the engines and were trying to remove our cooking grill on the port side of the cockpit. Wilbur thinks he has to help with everything every step of the way so I wasn't surprised to hear the tags jingle on his collar as he came up to join us in the cockpit.

Hans was getting ready to cast off our lines when I wondered where Wilbur was. Like I said, he's normally underfoot. However, a quick check of the salon area and our berth told me that Wilbur was not down below.

Hans insisted he was in our berth as he'd seen him there right before we tried taking the grill down. I went back to our berth again and pounded the covers to make sure he wasn't hiding.

No dog!

Hans ran down below to check it out for himself and I started looking over the sides and into the water. When he came up and confirmed that there was no way Wilbur was on the boat I went into panic mode and we shut off the engines. Off the boat I went screaming out Wilbur's name as I ran around to the stern and bow trying to see if he might be trapped by the dinghy lines or heaven forbid had been caught in the propellers.

By now I was sick with fear and then I heard someone way up at the end of the dock yell, "Up here!" That's all I needed to hear and I have to tell you I don't think an Olympic sprinter could have out ran me as flew up the dock.

And then I saw Wilbur coming out of the parking lot in order to approach the men who'd been beckoning to him. Luckily he didn't run away when he saw me and came right to me. By then I was shaking so bad I could hardly stand up and one man with wildly unkempt hair and ratty clothes stared at me like I might actually be crazier than him.

We now know that when I heard his tags jingle when we were in the cockpit, he actually scooted over the starboard side and jumped down onto the floating dock. It was a very long drop and I can't believe he did it as he's not overly fond of getting on and off the boat.

I think what happened was this; when I walked Wilbur yesterday he found a very delectable smell in the parking lot and nearly sucked the pavement up his big pitty nose he sniffed so hard. I think he still had that smell in mind and just had to get back to it as soon as our backs were turned.

Time out for Wilbur.

I don't think he looks sorry enough for what he did to me.

This has gotten me to wondering though. It would appear that the men in my life will do anything, including going overboard (even in freezing temperatures), in order to get away from me.

Perhaps I should be putting our shower to use more often.