Wednesday, March 22 was the day. The seas were forecasted to be calm, winds almost nonexistent. Our provisions were bought…
It’s crunch time! We’re making lists and checking them twice, and no we’re not getting ready for the Christmas holiday.…
There have been a few stops along our journey cruising down the east coast of the United States, that my husband and I have paused long enough from traversing the constant challenges of this new way of being, to sit and stare at each other in amazement and ask “how did we get here?”
It was only one year ago. Only one year ago that the thought of sea, sand, salt and wind came into our hearts. The idea that God had more; more life existed just beyond the edge of our comfort zone. Just beyond the edge of the familiar. Something we couldn’t name, but only imagine. Something waiting for us to discover.
And now here we are. A family of sojourners on the sea.
We left Fort Matanzas, taking one day at a time, and made our way south down Florida’s east coast, relishing the slow life. We anchored for one night in Daytona, then stopped for a day in Titusville, a quick rest in Melbourne then on to Vero Beach.
After nearly a month, we finally left St. Augustine behind, ready to continue further south and venture into new areas. We didn’t intend on staying in St. Augustine for that long. It was the longest we had stayed anywhere since traveling. By the third week, I was feeling the drive to go. The slow draw to remain comfortable was feeling very uncomfortable and my wandering heart was ready to say goodbye. St. Augustine wasn’t the place for us and we both knew it.
This spot on the water marks the place we’ve been the longest anywhere since we started our journey south. It’s a funny feeling. I was getting into the groove of daily travel. Waking in the early morning, pulling up anchor and setting out to a new place, the accomplished feeling of once again dropping that anchor in a place your eyes have never wandered, wondering what each new day will hold.
We stayed at a free dock in Sister’s Creek off of the St. John’s River. It was a beautiful spot, with not much around. We pulled up to the dock, with difficulty because of the strong currents, but were greeted by two men, strangers who had come to help us tie our dock lines. After the second try of pulling up to the dock we were able to secure our lines and relax.
I’ll never forget our first time on the ocean, the songs in the night, the comfort of the stars, the brilliant breaking of day, the stillness that followed the turmoil. I’ll never forget how God met me there and revealed the beauty of the deep. It was there waiting for me all along.
Suffice to say, taking the ICW all the way from Norfolk to Charleston was not plan A. I think we are on plan E or F by now, but that is what weather will do.
On December 8th we left Coinjock, a little stop with a dock and restaurant, on our way South, after getting some provisions and paying a diver to clean the bottom of our hull, and headed for an anchorage in Alligator River. It was a beautiful day, cold but with the sun peeking through the overcast sky. It was also my birthday and I couldn’t think of a better way to spend it: out on the water with my family.