We made an early exit from the anchorage in Daytona Beach - well planned and discussed right down to which side of the red triangular marker we would exit on, given the flow of the current and the wind. All for naught, though, as we made a safe and uneventful getaway. The only thing that rattled was our nerves, and only for a few minutes at that!
This next part of the trip down the ICW was scenic - a little more on the rustic side with a lot of mangroves sprouting on islands dotted all along our route. The water tended to be shallow, so Blair was focusing intently on navigating while I admired the scenery. There were lots of small fishing boats, canoes, and kayakers along the way - and we spotted a number of campers nestled on their own little island - simply beautiful! I spent some time daydreaming about how idyllic this would be and then the next thing I know, I am imagining how it would have felt to be Robinson Crusoe, or Gilligan and the crew from the Minnow! In fact, that programme could easily have been filmed on any one of the small islands that we passed.
We motored through some areas with very unique names: once we came by the Ponce de Leon Inlet, we were on our way to the Indian River North and Mosquito Lagoon. New Smyrna Beach is quaint and very pretty, much like a family fishing resort. Interesting facts about New Smyrna - sugar mills were built in the early 1800's with coquina stones (a natural limestone formed of broken shells and corals). The mill processed sugarcane into granular sugar that was shipped north. Molasses, a processing by-product, went south for rum production. In 1835, the Seminole Indians, who had been driven out of the region, returned to raid and burn all 10 of the area's mills. The local sugar industry never recovered.
We continued south to Mosquito Lagoon, enjoying the hordes of pleasure fishermen (and women). I craned my neck over the side of the boat, curious to see what they were catching. They were small fish - and, of course, considering that I have not even the vaguest idea what I am talking about with respect to fishing, I can't say what kind of fish they were pulling out. They just all looked like they were enjoying themselves, so that is what counts!
The really exciting view, though, in this stretch of Mosquito Lagoon, was the realization that we were staring straight ahead to the Kennedy Space Center. It was the shuttle hangar, and we could clearly see a rocket in place. That was quite a thrill - for me definitely - but more so for Blair. Apparently if there are plans for an actual launch, the area is inaccessible for that time period. As exciting as that might have been to see, I am relieved that we can continue to trudge through unimpeded.
The Haulover Canal is so unusual - a mile long rocky cut - there was a swift current racing through, and so many small boats loaded with fishermen and their gear - they were tied up to tree branches, roots, and/or anchored to prevent from drifting, casting their fishing lines like mad. It was quite a sight - and there were so many of them that I wondered how they wouldn't get themselves all tangled up with all the casting of lines going on. It was like a totally new world from the relative expanse of the Mosquito Lagoon. We passed through the Haulover Canal Bridge (27 foot bridge). As we called for an opening, I thank god that Blair is navigating because I haven't the faintest idea what the bridge operator is saying. I only pray that he will actually open the bridge as we approach (because we are counting on that) - and he does!
The next stretch down the Indian River is a choppy jaunt. The river is wider, and fortunately less worrisome with respect to carefully navigating for depths. And joy of joys, Blair has managed to get the autopilot working. He is convinced that all the testing of the system in Fernandina Beach actually bled the system of excess air. We are both relieved more than we can even describe. However, true to the Murphy's Law curse, our speaker in the cockpit that allows us to hear the VHF radio mysteriously stopped working. It is not a huge disaster at this late stage in the day - just enough to be a pain in the neck - literally (as Blair's neck is bothering him with all the days of manually steering this old tub).
After crossing under the Cocoa twin fixed bridges, we settle into an anchorage on the west side with a view of the huge water tower painted with the American flag and "Cocoa" off in the distance. As we settled down following the workout of dropping the anchor, Blair accidentally pushed the "help" button on our Spot messenger. This caused a little excitement, especially because we are not really sure what will happen. Blair called Art Hawkes immediately to assure him that we are still afloat. Art, of course, has a little chuckle. Next, he called Ron Paquette - and we learn from him that the distress call didn't get through (whew!) given that Blair turned off the unit almost immediately. We asked Ron to add my PIN number on my blackberry so that we can communicate quickly with him if we need to. I text messaged Carmen and asked her to add me to her BBM contacts for the same reason.
Just before we at dinner, a huge gusty rainstorm swept through - a test for the anchor, and a chance to wash all the salt and mud off the decks from the muddy anchorages we have been frequenting along the way. The rain is short-lived; Blair resets the anchor; we enjoy dinner; plan our route to Vero Beach for tomorrow (we make a reservation for a mooring at the City Marina there); and then head off to bed.
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