May 20, 2021
From Hontoon, we cruised another long day to the town of Acosta. We knew the marina lacked charm, but a warm shower was the main attraction, made possible in the comfort of our own head (yacht bathroom) by a stern hose hookup which provides running water without having to fill the water tanks. Once docked, I was a woman on a mission as I located the connecting piece of hose, performed the necessary gymnastics over the straps and davits on the swim platform to attach it, screwed the regular hose to the connector hose and the regular hose to the spigot on the dock. Water on!… only to have Steve note that the connecting hose astern was spluttering water into the bilge at a pretty good clip. Sigh. Water off. Perhaps this contributes to the big picture in our water dilemma…or perhaps we have three separate water issues. Steve was very adult in opting to shower at the marina locker room but I, noting how sandy the jaunt up there was, opted for not returning from a shower only to have sandy feet. I washed my hair in the tepid water that had sat in the bathtub cistern for two days and took yet another sponge bath. There could be worse things, like discovering in bed that you still have sand between your toes.
Our itinerary the next day was leisurely and highly recommended, a short 18-mile cruise to Murphy Creek with a full afternoon to gunk-hole Dunns Creek. We found a derelict boat in our first choice anchorage, and further up the creek a huge derelict barge with 2 old school buses and an old Air Stream trailer spoiled the view of the next anchorage. This, coupled with our having noticed the forecast for the next day with winds topping 18 mph, gave us pause and dampened our spirit for adventure. Upon deliberation, we decided to make a beeline as far north as possible to minimize what local knowledge anticipated could be an exhausting passage, fighting the slap of white caps abeam all day. We anchored in beautiful Black Creek, after a 58-mile cruise, which positioned us just 20 miles from our destination at the Ortega River, and trading the cacophony of “whoopy cushion frogs” and territorial birds for the road noise of civilization.
The final leg of the return to Jacksonville was a quick morning slog. Slapping white caps of 2 to 3 feet pitched us back and forth and camouflaged the myriads of crab pots, forcing us to make abrupt corrections to avoid running afoul of their lines. We passed Ortega Landing Marina this time and docked at Lambs Marina and Boatyard, also highly rated, but more for boat repairs than creature comforts. The marina is designed for long-term dockage, with well-crafted covered slips totally obstructing any view. Our window panels can be replaced here while we address the water issues and have a thorough inspection, so as to avert these emergent crises for a while.
Itinerary undetermined again, the lemons are plentiful and juicy. Lemonade coming right up.
Strands from Red Pearl 