No Particular Place to Go

Sunday, Aug 5, 2007 LaLeLu leaves her slip for the first time since returning from our epic two-week journey to nowhere and back. Even at 9:00 am it was clearly going to be a hot day. Almost too hot to move, but we didn't let that stop us. We ventured out Port Canaveral and bobbed like a cork under barely a whisper of wind. We weren't the only ones out there. Shamelessly flaunting the addiction that afflicts every sailor, there were others in search of a little wind with which to fill their sails. The wind Gods finally took pity on us. Gradually, almost imperceptibly at first, a nice breeze began filling our sails. It built to 14 knots and LaLeLu skipped along on a nice beam reach. Enjoying absolutely everything and doing absolutely nothing I rested my head on the cushion of the port settee and hung my legs over the cockpit coaming. I listened with one ear to the rush of water against the hull, and with the other ear to Jimmy Buffet. I picked up on some lyrics. I've heard them many times but never paid them much attention until this day - the day when I proclaimed them to be profound. Seems Jimmy bought a watch with no numbers and no hands. This watch simply says "now." Some might think perhaps the watch is broken, but Jimmy thinks the watch works just fine. I understood he was telling me to find a blessing in every day and don't take time for granted. In times when things are going wrong, his advice is simple: "Breathe in, breathe out, and then move on." I am thinking how paradoxical - we master the keeping of time, only to become its slave. "Brrmmppp, Brrrmmmppppppppp" - I am jolted out of deep thought by the cruise ship horns. I know instinctively that it is 4:00 pm - regretfully, time is still my master and it is telling me it was time to go home. Like obedient children, back through the locks, down the barge canal and into our slip we go. I am resolved – and only just a bit sad, for I know that new adventures are just around the corner - of that, I am certain. Life is good. Drink it up.

Headed Home

We left Lake Worth headed North on the intracoastal – it was Tuesday morning and gone were the throngs of party animals that had overtaken Peanut Island just one week earlier. In fact, the scenery looked completely different than it had on our way South. A few ski boats zoomed around, most evidentially being driven by the out-of-school-for-the-summer children of the boats’ owners. We only had one close encounter - one opportunity to use our air horn - a really long blast aimed at some punk-kid skiers that crossed their tow line directly in front of our boat. In fact, had the skier not fallen off, we would have hit him. I yelled at them until the veins in my face nearly popped out. I don’t know if they fully appreciated their near death experience, but I assure you that they will never forget the crazy screaming lady with the air horn.

The voyage up the river was lovely – if you have never experienced the color of the water around Jupiter Inlet, you haven’t lived. It looks like it is died with food coloring because no river could possibly be naturally colored that turquoise blue. We hustled and made it through the bridges one-by-one, barely catching each openings on their half-hour schedule. Arrival in Peck Lake was early afternoon.

After anchoring we unloaded into the dingy, pulled up to shore and crossed the dune to check out the Atlantic side. Tropical Storm Barry had completely re-landscaped the beachside. There were so many shells that you could barely see the sand. The air was still and the ocean was lying down - flashing us with all variations of the color turquoise under a lazy late afternoon sun. Absolutely breathtaking.

We hung out a few days, did some snorkeling, did some exploring, did some shelling. Park enjoyed checking out the sea turtle nests, surveying them closely for evidence of hatchlings. Except for a few occasional visitors, we had a private beach. Park proclaimed it Kaleidoscope beach – aptly so I thought, considering how it had changed so drastically over the time between our visits. Three days later, we reluctantly packed up, pulled anchor and headed for home.

Friday evening we found ourselves in familiar waters and anchored at Sebastian just south of the inlet. We were treated to a rocket launch as we sat in the cockpit. You got to love a place that provides this type of entertainment for its weary travelers. The setting sun caused a strange illumination of the rocket’s left over smoke plume. We thought it looked like the Northern Lights.

Saturday afternoon and we were at Harbor Town – Just in time for D Dock Happy Hour. The journey was over and we were in the familiar comfort of our D Dock comrades. Bitter sweet indeed.