lights out — good night

Dad

We just crossed our first state line into Georgia; spotting Savannah’s light on the the horizon the night before. I spent most of yesterday recovering from the last long haul. We were low on gas forcing us to sail with with barley enough wind so we could make it to a marina for anchorage. After dark, we traveled our last cut before opening up to the St Helena Sound. Dad and I in the cockpit, Mom tending our domestic needs inside. We were in for a long night. No moon, a blanket of stars, and the bright light of Venus. I was already exhausted but I knew I had to push through and not give in to my mental state; the scale of the challenge slowly revealing itself as we sailed deeper in to dark open water. Alone on the water, I was fighting the weight of my eyelids as I stared forever into one red or green blinking marker to the next. Just as Dad left me at the tiller for a bathroom break I noticed a pair of faint lights in the distance. Red on right, green on left told me I had an incoming vessel headed straight in my path. A panic settled in as the yacht quickly approached and I could make out a large wake building up at their hull. I called out. My depth perception was compromised and I didn’t know if I should turn left, right, or stay on course. Not knowing the protocol for this situation Mom came out and blew the horn. Thankfully they turned at the last minute, giving us a decent wake to overcome. We are still unsure if they where on auto pilot and didn’t see us or if they were just rude. We carefully charted the remainder of the Sound at a snail’s pace. I could feel the muscles in my back and neck cramping from continuous alert. A soft wind from behind made for an indecisive sail; tossing the boom back and forth over our heads.The current rushing out the the ocean just beside us wasn’t lending a hand either. Six hours later we finally make our mark and find anchorage. We proudly recorded sixty miles in the log book. Needless to say, I had no trouble sleeping that night.

The next day we spent running errands at the Downtown Beaufort Marina: filling on fuel, reorganizing the cabin (constantly), refilling ice, laundry, showers, tending to the sail, and Ubering to Lowes to buy two more gas cans. After a restorative lunch we set under way at 14:00 with my Mom taking my place in the cockpit so I could find rest. Sailing through the Port Royal Sound was rough and tedious; making it difficult to sleep or read. I simply laid down for most of the day listening to my parent’s narrations. A poem from a moldy book of poems inspired by Beaufort, SC I found in the laundry room. HOMETOWN GIRL Languid days seeking the cool breeze From the grassy Beaufort Bay. Licking orange popsicles, Resting under the old draping oaks; Their limbs reaching to shade me. Comfort — Riding my bike on a hot summer’s day Down cozy shaded streets. Waving to friends. And cousins, aunts, uncles, Always welcome to visit. Talking about any old thing And asked, “Want some cold water?” Walking to the Breeze movie theater To see the Saturday movie, Stopping to talk to the big green Parrot Sitting in his cage by the window. On the way home, stop to see William — He’s not home so sit and talk to his mother, Visit — then “Bye, got to get home. Mama has super ready, See you.” I love talking to her! See William later. —Alice Connolly Moore

Victory! The current let off and Dad eased into the water off the stern with his rigged up rope ladder. Thankfully he was well studied on the boat’s bottom and quickly set the wedged crab buoy free.

Ps. Image of me being very excited to find that the radio works and speak with the bridge tender

October 24, 11:27 I woke up to the anchor being drawn at 6:30 this morning. The days are running long to catch up to our goal mileage. Calm conditions on a narrow intracoastal for most of the day. I enjoyed the playfulness of the herons at sunrise, the vertical rays highlighting their wing span. Further down we spot a group of birds occupying a small but strong current coming in from left, ducking in and out of the water, perched on pillars, and strutting their swagger. We found the tiller extender in the the cabin making steering a lot more comfortable. Feeling relaxed, calm, and spending time reflecting on Patti Smith’s book, Just Kids as I take my turn in the cockpit. Thinking about how I want to live, and the multiple worlds/desires I stratal constantly. Hoping to make it to a marina in Charleston by nightfall.

October 23, 20:40 Today was somewhat hectic with a wrong turn that made us backtrack an hour followed by a chase to find fuel, setting us back another hour. In the end we covered 40 miles and had the chance to raise the sail. It was a happy moment to be able to turn off the motor and just listen to the sound of the water. We are still trialling all the functions of the boat for the first time so it was probably all the excitement and stress of fussing with snags that distracted us off course. Feeling grateful for all of my food preparations, I filled the cabin with smells of spices at sunset just before anchoring (see earlier post for recipes). Another clear night. No moon, but even more stars than the night before. In the middle of nowhere with the sky stretching from horizon to horizon I could actually make out the Milky Way. A moment of stillness. Listening only to the coo of an owl and the breath of a dolphin.