11-18.

Went down to the lighthouse on a windy day.  When we got there, the tide was very low, so low with the north wind blowing all the water out into the gulf that we had to wait an hour for the tide to come in a little before we were able to launch the boats and make it out the canal.  Even so, rowing was more of polling in the mud, but we didn't run aground anywhere.  Once we made it into the bay, we spotted Walt on his boat (above left, Oystercatcher (Daddy's Drascombe) on right).  

The top two pictures of the Swan: rowed out past the shipwreck before raising sail, then didn't pull the sail far enough up/pull the downhaul down tight enough at first and had a huge wrinkle in the sail.  Fixed that after we cleared the channel and oyster bars.  

Walt has a spinnaker - looks like fun!  Walt's boat (Joan of Arc I believe she's called) is a Francois Vivier design that Walt built.  (Walt also built the mast for my boat).

And headed back to the ramp.  Finally a day with good, consistent wind - something we're not too accustomed to, but thankful for when it happens.  More cold fronts, please!

Fortunately there is no photographic evidence of it, but I guess I'll fess up here - Karl and I managed to ram the Drascombe and break the mizzen spar.  whoops!  We were following along and tacked after the Drascombe had tacked, but while our tack went smoothly and successfully, Daddy's boat stalled and we ended up heading straight at them at ramming speed.  I let the sail out to try to slow us down and Karl steered away, and just when we thought we would clear them, our bow caught the tip of the spar, cracking the butt end inside the stern.  Upon inspecting the damage, should be a simple fix.  No harm done to the Swan.  

winter is coming

Found another load of firewood today, oak to be cut to length and split.  And Shadowfax successfully hunted a squirrel for the first time, so if we had to fend for ourselves, I think we'd be ok.  

Don't be fooled by the sweet babushka.

In which we encounter a breeze and a manatee.

My dad and I headed down to St Marks today with the Swan.  The weathermen said a cold front was headed down south, and the wind would be picking up.  We beat the wind down to the coast, though, and spent the first leg of the journey rowing furiously to avoid oyster bars and the shipwreck as we were almost carried out to sea by the river current.

One design flaw is readily apparent: our rowing seat is too close to the too-long tiller, making it impossible to steer with the rudder while someone rows, unless you have something against the rower and want to bash their knuckles on each stroke.  Instead, the rower must steer with the oars.  
  
After we made it to the shelter of a sand bar, out of the river current, we were able to float around and enjoy being becalmed.  

Finally, the first wisps of the cold front started making their way down from the northwest, the water started rippling towards us, a breeze appeared and we started to sail.  We experimented with tacking, letting the sail out some before each tack.  We sailed up to and past an old, algae-coated buoy, and when I looked back and noted that the buoy was far behind us, I realized we were speeding right along.  Daddy took the helm with the tiller extension while I took pictures.  

Later in the afternoon we had enough wind to get the pennant flying.

One of the hazards of gulf coast sailing - oyster bars waiting to ambush the bottom of your boat when the tide is coming in or going out just enough to cover them.  We only had to pull over one today.  

Of course, just as the wind was picking up and the sailing was getting good, we had to head back in.  You can see the lighthouse in the distance, just off the starboard bow.  We were able to beat up into the wind enough so that we had a straight shot back into the canal, avoiding oyster bars, the shipwreck, and the jetty with plenty of room to spare.  

On our last tack, Daddy noticed bubbles on the surface of the water.  As we approached, I stood up to get a better look, thinking I might see a sea turtle.  Instead, I could make out the broad, scarred back of a manatee.  The manatee didn't like our presence and with a huge flap of its tail, it swam away.  I had never seen a manatee move so swiftly and so decisively.  It left a wake behind it, and had we been in a canoe we would have been rocking perilously.  I had also never seen a manatee this far off shore, so that was an interesting sighting.  I hope it stays clear of all the motor boats zipping up and down the channel.  

In which a hummingbird is saved.

We get a lot of buzzing insects on the back porch due to the screen-less door panel, so when I stepped out onto the porch for lunch and heard a deep buzzzzz near my head, I was not too surprised.  Not too surprised, that is, until I saw the source of the buzz - not the usual bee or wasp, but a frantic hummingbird!  

We occasionally get a wren visiting on the porch, being curious about prime nesting real estate (one tried to nest in the Christmas cactus this spring), and they find their way back out when I prop the door wide open.  The hummingbird is known for its incredible flights south to central America, but this poor hummer did not have such a good sense of direction to lead it back out the door.   

Worried about how long the bird had been flying back and forth trying to find an escape route with no water or calories, I wanted to help it find its way out quickly with minimal stress.  

Hummingbirds love cardinal guard, which I have plenty of in the backyard.  Since this bird couldn't seem to find its own way to the cardinal guard that was beckoning right outside the porch, I decided to bring the flowers inside to the bird.  I cut a handful of flowers, tucked them in a vase, walked up to the hummingbird, and offered up a bouquet.  With no hesitation, the hummingbird flew to the flowers and began drinking.  I slowly, so slowly, moved my arm down and the hummingbird hovered down with the flowers, drinking and drinking.  It hovered along with me as I walked towards the door, its buzzing wings fanning the top of my hand.  When I reached the threshold, the bird perched on top of the flowers, then, seeing freedom, lifted off and flew into the warm afternoon, making a quick stop at more cardinal guard flowers before disappearing into the trees.  

Rain

It was an afternoon for sitting on the back porch, for listening to the rain fall and the frogs call.  

Shadowfax poked her nose out to test the water, determined that the water was fine, and ran crazy-fast laps through the rising puddles.  

It stormed last night, downpoured this morning, and rained again afternoon and evening.  A walk though the backyard this evening produced long-jumping leopard frogs fleeing from underfoot.  

Sailing posts to come.  They'll be mingling with animals and other projects on here.  
To see the boat-building blog, if you haven't before, go to vatalanta.blogspot.com.