So, What's New??

Hi all, welcome back to yet another addition of my halfhearted literary attempt!  Thanks for stopping by, as always, and I hope that you get a few laughs, insights, or inspiration from my ramblings on life, the water, and family.

So... 2016.  Big year!

Yep... Yours truly, doing our 9:30 feeding.  Meet Julia!  I went all in.  Married, new house, baby, even got me a dog to round it all out.  I'm still taking it all in, but it certainly has been a wild ride.  Being a Dad is the big change by far...  Still trying to get a handle on that one; but progress is being made!

As Im typing this (Listening to a lullaby as Julia nods off... hopefully...) my wife is asleep upstairs, the dog is curled up next to me, and life is pretty good. Damn good.  

I need to remember that more often.  Im cursed with negativity sometimes, and I can't stand it when reality and my plans don't sync up.  What's the old phrase?  Man makes plans and God laughs?  So true.  Overall I don't have a damn thing to complain about. 

So if you see me bemoaning my station in life sometimes, just tell me to stuff it and move on.  

Onward indeed!  You're here for some fishing/boating/ocean nonsense, not my ramblings!  Whats on tap for Knot Reel Teeth in 2016??  Charters, my friends! Charters!

Having a larger boat is awesome.  Its a great feeling, its super cool, and the bills are huge!  Really- not kidding there.  It really is a hole in the water that you throw money into.  That is gospel right there.  So, why not get paid to have fun??  

This year, some great people and great friends at Big Game Sportfishing decided that Richard and I were worthy of coming aboard and adding another dimension to their business.  Already one of the most popular and successful charter outfits in RI, Big Game has two boats, a 32 and 36 that regularly sail for inshore and some offshore charters. But sometimes 36' isn't all that big offshore.  Thats where we come into play.

Offshore charters are a tricky thing.  Not many guys in RI still go offshore for paid charters.  There is a perception out there that all the fish are gone, it's a good ways offshore (85+ miles from land), and with fuel being expensive (and we burn a ton of it...) it becomes a costly endeavor.  But its AMAZING.  The "canyons" are an amazing place to be.  It's like a National Geographic episode out there.  Whales, Dolphins, Sea Turtles, Mola Mola, Tuna, Marlin, Mahi Mahi... They all ply the waters south of New England, and not many people know about it.

But we do!  And we have the boat to get there; and stay for a while.  Going back to fuel, day trips are impractical.  You have to steam 3.5-5 hours to get there, and the same back.  Thats where overnights come in.  you leave Friday Morning, come back Saturday night or Sunday am.  Nights are spent offshore, drifting or anchored, under the most amazing night sky you can get on the East Coast.  

I can go on and on, because its that amazing.  But here is the deal- Its an awesome experience; and one any serious saltwater fisherman needs to do.  

The other facet of our chartering is going to be tournaments.  Big money needs a big boat.  Call it ego, comfort, or just bragging rights.  All apply.  And Knot Reel Teeth fits the bill.  We get you there in style, and can fish the far reaches of the map.

So onward!  To the 2016 season!  As of this writing, Bluefin tuna are showing up south of Block Island, and its shaping up to be another Great Season!  We're splashing the boat later this week, after some much appreciated upgrades and maintenance (remember that cost thing...) and with some great new tackle, we're super excited to hit it... HARD!

Check us out at the following Tournaments:

2016 Star Island Shark Tournament - Montauk, NY

2016 Snug Harbor Shark Tournament - Pt. Judith, RI

2016 Oak Bluffs Bluewater Classic - Martha's Vineyard, MA

2016 Tri-State Shootout - Block Island, RI

See you on the Water!  

New York, New York! and, the end of our Journey.

Hiatus! Yep, I took one, but hopefully, Im back with a vengeance!  Although its 2016, I want to finish what I started here, so lets pick up...

It was a summer day. Warm, warm like you remember it as a kid.  The smell of excitement in the air, a new adventure just about to start! When we last left our intrepid travelers, we had just gotten over a small mishap in New Jersey, and once repairs were made, it was on to New York!

I have a great fascination with New York, from a historic standpoint.  More than most East Coast cities, Manhattan has such a draw to it, such a rich past.  The people, the way it was bought and settled, its role in the revolutionary and civil wars, the gangs of the five points, the corrupt Tammany Hall times, its just so enthralling...

If you have a fondness for history, and maritime history specifically, New York is a treasure trove for you.  So many layers, so many characters, its awesome.  Two particular works that always stand out for me, if you are a reader, are "The Big Oyster" by Mark Kurlansky and "The Great Bridge" by David McCullough (a personal favorite). Sure there are plenty of others, but these combine my loves of history, New York, and the sea.

But back to me...

As I was planning this trip, New York was always going to be a stop on the way home. How could it not be?  Some friends told me to go from Cape May and cut to the Northeast, across the hudson canyon and across the south side of Long Island.  Its shorter, saves on fuel, and you can get some fishing in.  Pretty convincing normally...  But the route through New York has the Statue of Liberty, the Brooklyn Bridge, Manhattan, Hell Gate, Rikers Island...  Evens the score pretty well I think.

So Manhattan it was.  My research led me to stay in Jersey City, actually, and not Manhattan.  Once a bustling town of water transit and piers, the years and decades have left Manhattan's shore pretty inhospitable for pleasure boaters, with only the public dock up near 65th st. or the O-So-Pricy marina down in the Financial district, which caters to the Megayacht/Hamptons crowd.  So to Liberty Landing Marina it was!

Our approach to Manhattan had me a bit nervous.  I heard about tons of debris, crazy water taxis and ferrys, and general mayhem.  The truth was quite the opposite.  We were welcomed under the Verrazano Narrows bridge with some moderate chop, which flattened out after our entrance into NY Harbor.  Rounding the bend, and we were greeted with Lady Liberty, in all her Glory.  This was my first time seeing the Statue up close, and she didn't disappoint.

Truly a remarkable sight any boater should have on their bucket list.  

Liberty Landing is located right near the Lady, and Ellis Island.  Its a stones throw from Manhattan, with reasonable prices and very clean facilities.  Its no Canyon Club, but it was very nice. You didn't even feel like you were in the city.  Odd, but comforting.

After a pleasant night, and a morning fill up next to a big 150'+ yacht, it was off.  Off to our last day, the end of our voyage; Home.  

For all the pitfalls and treacherous waters around New York (maybe more of a valid statement in 1840, certainly less so today...) our trip up the East River and into LI Sound was quite pleasant, certainly uneventful in comparison, and a nice, quiet, relaxing end to a fantastic trip.

We made the trip from Manhattan to Pt. Judith in about 4.5 hours, and were greeted by family and friends for an impromptu welcome home party on the boat that has been, and continues to be, a great source of enjoyment and bonding for all of us.

We circumnavigated Florida, made it to the Bahamas, voyaged the East Coast, caught some great fish, whacked a drawbridge, bent an outrigger on a Hammerhead, made new friends, had plenty of firsts, learned a lot about our new boat and each other, laughed, bonded, and have memories that will last us a lifetime.  

Im writing this entry almost two years after the fact, yet I still think about our trip, and remember so much of it so vividly.  After finally getting to do this trip, my biggest regret is not doing it sooner.  If you have the opportunity to travel the coast by boat; DO IT.  

The Mid - Atlantic... part 1

Thought I forgot about you??  Maybe I abandoned the project, eh??  Nope!  Im back baby, back and determined to finish!  With all the hoopla of getting married this summer (thanks, it was a blast!) I had to table a lot more than I would like to admit, and this certainly didn't make the cut.  But, without further ado, here is yet another installment of my trip up the coast.

For those just joining us, we left off after a fantastic trip to the outer banks; with plenty of fish, good friends, and great memories.  Now, as we have done in the past, its time to move on, and march northwards...

The Mid-Atlantic, part 1

Schedules are a blessing and a curse.  Sure, they can serve to organize our life, and keep us in check, but sometimes they put us in positions we don’t want to be in.  Either way, we have to deal with them.

Since buying the boat in January, we have had a rough schedule of moving the boat home to New England, and two deadlines to meet.  First, we needed to have the boat out of Florida waters within 90 days, as per their tax policy.  We met that by 1 day, pulling into Charleston, Sc 89 days after our purchase date.  The second, was that we had to have the boat home in time for the Snug Harbor Shark tournament, which falls on the second week of July every year.  As I wrote in an earlier post, this is one of those ritual events that we don’t miss.  With home and summer fun on our mind, we headed back down to Hatteras Island, Pt. Judith being our final destination; and stops on the way of Virginia Beach, Atlantic City, and Manhattan.

Arriving in Norfolk, VA (the closest commercial airport) we hopped into the Island Hopper van, and made the 3 hour drive south to Hatteras all the while conversing with a very interesting woman named Ruth, our driver for the night.  Ruth, a transplant to Hatteras, had grown up as an Army brat, but every summer the family was together, for varying lengths of time, in Hatteras.  She has a bit to say about most anything, and it made for a pleasant ride.  Getting to Hatteras landing around 1:00 am, we dropped our gear where it lay, and hit the sack.

The next morning, spurred on by our previous fishing bonanza, we headed out of the inlet in search of some fish before heading north to Virginia beach, and its somewhat protected Rudee Inlet. While we didn't have the lights out luck that we had last trip, we managed a few mahi, enough to make a few meals out of.  We turned north, and began the run up to VA beach, with little fanfare.  As we headed north, we could feel the change in the weather coming.  A front began to bear down on us, carrying reports of waterspouts and lightening along with it.  As it was a coastal storm, we pushed a little further offshore, and were able to hook around the sinister looking weather; leaving it on our port side.

Inlets are something that I have come to appreciate, and well maintained ones doubly so.  The wide, deep channels I have navigated in New England are more rare as you head south; jetties and man made canals being replaced with shifting sandbars and narrow, tricky passes.  Rudee inlet was at least a man made inlet, and one that is fairly easy to navigate.  They also employ a full time dredging ship, who's job it is to remove the constant barrage of sand from the inlet, maintaining the 10 ft. depth.  We barely made it under the fixed bridge that lies between the inlet and Fisherman’s Wharf, however, and once again our outrigger lost a little paint to a bridge.

After cleaning the boat, and enjoying our fresh fish for dinner, we had a nice conversation with a guest, there to visit our friend Alan who was along for the trip.  I busied myself changing some fuel filters after that, as we hadn't changed them recently, and, on the whole, it was a pleasant, warm evening.  With a good forecast laid out before us, I didn't have much of a care in the world.  

How things change.  The previous evenings forecast of 2-3 foot seas and 10 knot winds was updated in the early morning, to reflect a front that pushed through quicker than anticipated.  5-7 foot seas and winds 15-20 were the order of the day.  It was miserable. Any direction I headed in resulted in a head sea, something the Post is not famous for making a pleasant situation.  Pounding, huge spray, and the constant up and down of the waves made for a most uncomfortable morning. 

After several hours of “Bang, Smack, Hold on…” I was second guessing myself on the filter change I had done the night before.  when my brother headed downstairs for some relief from the beating we were taking ( and doing only 15kts. to make matters worse ) I asked him to check the engine room to be sure no fuel was escaping the filter and onto the floor.  Good news, no fuel.  Bad news, a foot of water was in the engine room.  A quick position check put us about 10 miles East of Chincoteague Island.  Hmmm. Water in the boat, 10 miles from shore… what to do.  

First thing; Rich hopped into the engine room and started hand bailing while Alan ran the manual bilge pump.  Slowing down to idle speed and keeping our nose into the seas, we were able to empty the bilge and engine room in about 5-10 minutes.  But where did the water come from?  I thought maybe the engine room vents in the hull; after all, we were taking big waves all day.  Rich thought maybe the bait well was overflowing and filling the area. We carried on and checked again in 5 minutes.  No change.  Good.  20 minutes of cruising, and water was coming back in. Bad.  This time I called the Coast Guard.  Now, calling the Coast Guard is never my first thought.  Personally, I don't like to bother them unless I really, really, need to.  Because this isn't really a “Mayday”, I called a “Pan Pan” which means the safety of my vessel is in danger. I advised them of our situation, and we were in contact for about 30 minutes or so.  They actually were standing by to send out pumps to us to help us dewater the boat.  After taking stock of what was happening, we got a handle on where the water was coming from, and, using our bait well pump, we were making headway on keeping the water down.  After that, we advised the CG of our progress, and they advised us to get to Ocean City, where the facilities were available to get us out of the water and repaired (or at least diagnosed).  Done deal!

Thankfully, the seas calmed shortly afterwards, and with good headway, speed, and some phone calls and researching; we headed in to the Canyon Club Marina in Cape May, NJ.  Although north of Ocean City, they had the facilities in place and the willingness to meet us at 7:00 on a Friday night to figure out what was going on.  An easy inlet, good channel, and calm tide greeted us in Cape May; as did the service manager of the Canyon Club, who was waiting with the travel lift in the water.  Travel lifts are giant boat hammocks that can lift and transport large boats out of the water and around the marina yard as needed.  Once we were “sitting in the sling”, Dave hopped onto our boat and headed right down into the engine room after a quick hello.  “Ah-ha, yep…” he said.  “I got it…” Really, that quick? And in fact, it was that quick.  We split an exhaust hose that handled the sea water the engine cools with, and the hose was spraying water all over the place. At low speeds, it moved less water, at high speeds, it was a torrent of water coming into the engine room.  All because of a $25 hose…  Whatever.  It's fixed and the ordeal is over! Time to ogle some sick yachts!

Relieved, we were put back together, and sitting comfortably at what turned out to be one of the nicest marinas I had ever stayed in.  The Canyon Club is a must visit marina.  Beautiful facilities, beautiful boats, and Cape May is really quite nice.  The pools, grounds and docks at The Canyon Club are all meticulously maintained, and I could see myself spending lots of time lounging at the pool, If we weren't on a schedule.  I can't say enough good things about the Canyon Club.  You owe it to yourself to head on over there and experience what a first class operation is like.  Or maybe don't... I feel quite let down now with my marina.  Sigh.

As the sun set, we all sat in the cockpit, eating dinner, and rehashing the days events; now laughing at our actions, and joking about the tension we had all been under.  We learned a great deal that day; about our boat, about large seas, and how we act under pressure.  Overall, I think we managed pretty well.

Next up, part 2! Motoring into the Big Apple.

OBX

Hatteras feels like a different country to me.  I don't know why, but when I come here, I feel so detached from everything else.  I guess that can be a good thing, making you relax and unplug, but it can feel unnerving for me as a normally fast paced New Englander.

Our coming to Hatteras was originally spurred by good friends in Kentucky.  Heath and Kristy, good friends of my fiancé and I, have been coming here for the better part of 10 years.  First as a beach fisherman, now keeping a center console there full time; Heath grew deeper and deeper into the addiction of saltwater fishing, and now his affliction is even worse than my own.

Once he heard that I was moving through the area, it was game on.  We talked and texted back and forth, usually photos of good days on the water, and settled that the first week of June would be a good time to come down and get offshore into some blue water.  As with our usual pattern of traveling the boat up the coast so far, this was to be another family excursion, so my parents and brother would also come, bringing our party up to 8 people.

Arriving in Norfolk, we made the 3 hour drive down to Hatteras in our little roller skate of a Hyundai.  The drive seems easy enough, but we all went a little stir crazy along the way.  Selfies, that damn house in Rodanthe, and an all you can eat crab buffet (Jimmy's Seafood Buffet in Kitty Hawk, FYI) dotted our trip with a few highlights.

After arriving at Hatteras Landing, we were greeted with close to gale winds, and 5-8 ft seas.  Not pretty, but it was nice to be on vacation again.

We took the day to relax, unpack, and meet up with our friends, who were already in town for a few days.  Turns out Heath beat us to the punch, bagging over 20 mahi in the past couple of days before we arrived.  He did have a surprise up his sleeve, in the form of a buddy named Billy, who was very familiar with the local waters and the techniques used here, and boy was I glad to hear that.

One of the toughest things about fishing a new area is understanding how and where to fish.  Tuna, in particular, are a difficult species at best.  Home, we use lots of spreader bars, plastic baits, and some ballyhoo as well.  Down in Hatteras, its all about ballyhoo.  Period.  No ballyhoo, no fish. We topped them off with sea-witches, and some planers as well, but the key is good ballyhoo.  Patterns are different, the distance behind the boat is different.  All of these things add up to a successful day on the water, and with Heath and Billy, I was feeling cautiously optimistic. The morning came, the wind died down, and the waters cooperated for us.  Thankfully.

Running the inlet was probably the largest point of stress for us.  We don't know the water, and with the sand bars and shoaling, its a tough inlet on a good day, and impossible on many days.  The plan was to follow out someone, and track our course right behind a charter boat.  This wasn't foolproof, but it worked.  So good news there.  Once we got towards the inlet, we were greeted with some 6-8 ft. rollers, and a  Coast Guard 47MLB keeping an eye on the exiting fleet.  We rounded the point and made our way north, the 40 some odd miles to the offshore grounds east of Oregon Inlet.  

Lines in the water around 7:30, we trolled 9 rods and dragged our baits around for the better part of 3 lazy, fishless hours.  

People often ask me what offshore fishing is like, and the easiest way I can explain it is this:

You spend hours driving around monotonously, not talking much, and in a very tense but bored mood; only to get 30 minutes of complete chaos and excitement when you finally find a school of fish. Then you feel like a million bucks.  Repeat throughout the day.

Our moment happened at 11:00 or so.  We were trolling in a fleet of 20 boats, doing very little, when all of a sudden a rod went off, with the magic sound of the reel peeling line off frantically.  Then another, and another, then we had 8 of 9 rods all bent over, screaming in chorus. All singing "Fish On!" Now what happens?  Well, we had 5 guys fishing, so you grab a rod, fight a fish, then grab another when your fish hits the deck.  There are tangles, there is swearing, but its fantastic.  Guys ducking under and going over other lines, yelling for someone to gaff a fish; and everyone giving the captain a hard time about how to drive the boat.  In the end, we got 5 of the 8 in the boat.  Nice, good sized yellowfin tuna.

What a rush!  First tuna in the boat!  From then on it was game on.  We had a few more sporadic hits and picked up another 3 or 4 tuna as the tide began to change, and then, around 2pm, something fantastic happened...  The charter fleet up and left.  Gone.  Empty water.  They left us, and maybe two other boats, to keep the fish all for ourselves!  

Over the next two hours we boated 5 or 6 fish, and lost about as many due to a few dropped hits, and one crimp that slipped ( I have to take the hit on that one myself.  Grrr... ) The fight ended on a low note though, as the last flurry of hits we had gave us a lasting wound.

Be on the lookout for Heath's GoPro vid in an upcoming post!

 

We were trolling along, enjoying the sun, when 3 rods went off.  One tuna came fully out of the water and crashed down on a bait so hard he left a hole in the ocean.  It was incredible to see.  Immediately, we grabbed the remaining rods and began to reel in to avoid tangles.  Then the guys started in on the fish. We dropped one, and the other two came to the side of the boat after a decent fight.  After a few quick high fives, a line starts to come tight on our long rigger. 

But there is a problem...  It's just pulling the rigger...  

In the heat of fighting the other fish, the line must have looped on the rigger clip ( a Rupp Knock-Out that I have always disliked... ) and now its not letting the line move freely.  I see it, Rich sees it.  I run for the halyard, Rich runs for the reel.  Too late.  In a matter of 10 seconds, maybe less, I have a battle wound for all to see.  Dammit.

So what, pray tell, was the cause of this catastrophe??  Well, it was a first for me...  Feast your eyes on this one.

Who knew Hammerheads liked rigged ballyhoo??  Oh well, it makes for a story, right?  

After that shot, we all took stock of what we had.  12 tuna in the boat, a bent rigger, and some weary arms.  Shaking off the bruised ego, we got back up on the troll, but it became slow with the new tide, and we spent our time bobbing around, looking for some life in the now empty water.  Slow time trolling can be maddening.  You are always second guessing everything.  Especially when a bite just shuts off.  Are my baits running well, should I move them; is there another spot we should try, what depth are we in; is there a banana on the boat that I didn't know about??  

Then you try to do things that seem to get hits.  You vary your speed, change directions, open up a new beer or soda (fish always hit just when you do this; or make a sandwich...  Its a scientific fact.) Nothing.  We trolled along, and I resigned myself to waiting for dusk.  The dusk bite, last of the day, can trigger some fantastic action.

And indeed it did.  We hit, and hit hard.  5 fish in the 30 minute span just as the sun dipped down.  It was a fantastic end to the day, and left us one fish shy of our 3 tuna/person limit at 17 fish. 

Once it got dark, it was time to take stock of what had gone down, as we broke down our trolling spread, and got ready for dinner.

Ahh, the carnage!  What a great feeling.  Once we cleaned up a bit and ate dinner (Some veal and peppers from Angelo's on Federal Hill in Providence as well as some fresh fish Heath brought along.  No PB&J sandwiches here folks.  We eat.) everyone began to feel the toll the past 17 hours on the water had taken.  Naps were in order, and we sat comfortably, drifting for the next few hours while everyone relaxed and got some much needed rest.  

Nights offshore are special for me.  Some people get scared or nervous at the darkness, but I have gotten comfortable with it.  The sky is amazing, and you will rarely see more stars in the sky than you will offshore.  It's beautiful.  

In the early morning, we began a slow cruise south, heading for the mahi grounds off Hatteras for a first light bite.  Exhausted but undeterred, we got to a spot Heath knew, and right at the crack of dawn, we hit the mahi and had 6 fish in the boat in short time.  

However willing the spirit was, the flesh said "the hell with it".  We had our lines in, and were motoring back home and to the dock for noon. 30 hours on the water was enough for us. Well, maybe not Billy and Heath, but the rest of us were certainly feeling it.  Back at the Landing, we all basked in the glow of success, and got to our respective jobs of picking up, scrubbing, and cleaning the mountain of fish we amassed.

What a great trip.  Thats all I can say, over and over again.  Fish, laughs, disappointment, victory, all rolled into one package.  That evening, we all had dinner at the Inn on Pamlico, to relax, retell stories, and be together, family and friends.

My Beautiful Fiance enjoying some champagne at Cafe Pamlico

Next up!  Home.  Finally bringing the new gal up to Rhode Island.  Stay tuned, and thanks for reading.  

ps.  This is what part of the alphabet would look like if Q and R didn't exist.  

pps. Leave a comment, let me know what you think of the blog to date!

Delivery

So its been a while.  Welcome, welcome back, and always, thanks for reading.  Now that the dust has settled in the rest of my life, I figured that I would update you on where we stand.

After the fantastic trip to the Bahamas,  we flew back down, 5 in total, to resume the northward trek, in anticipation of getting the boat back home to Pt. Judith by the end of June.  As we all have to work (still....) we are still doing long weekends and moving the boat accordingly.  This leg of the journey takes us from Ft. Lauderdale, up to Charleston, SC.

I have to say that I'm not sad leaving the slip we had at the top of the New River.  docked next to the Rt. 84 overpass, the boat was an absolute MESS when we got down for the trip.  Aside from the normal bird dirt, tree leaves and mystery footprints, there was a fine layer of road dirt all over the boat that turned to black streaks the instant you touched anything.  3 Hours of cleaning later, and we were all glad to cast off and head north.

A bit different from our other trips, we decided to save some fuel, and fish our way up from FLL to St. Augustine.  At 10kts., we were looking at roughly 22 hrs to get to our destination.  We would all fish and relax on our way during the day (except for the captain, as the Autopilot is still dead Grrr!) and then do 4 hour shifts during the evening with 2 man crews.  Fair enough, but I have to tell you; its sloooow going.  Now I know I wouldn't like to sail.  We managed a few nice mahi, as well as an ornery Barracuda that was no fun to deal with, but other than that, it was pretty uneventful.  Our new plotter is GREAT, and lets you connect your phone or iPad to it, so you can monitor the vessel wherever you are on board.  Very handy when I was in the bunk and wanted a quick check.

Once the day was over, it was time for the long, nighttime slog.  We had high hopes of fishing, but to be honest, It's tiring just sitting there and watching the water.  It was a dark, moonless night (sounds like some film noir setting, right?) and there was nothing on the water.  No commercial traffic, no boats fishing, no waves.  Nothing.  Eerily nothing.

Just darkness, and the light from the radar and plotter.  My cousin Carmine, who was along for the trip, got his first taste of twilight boating, and while he settled into it fine, his first reaction was "When do we pull in?"  If you haven't been boating in the wee hours of the morning, you may find it hard to wrap your mind around, but its disconcerting being out there. Especially 20 or so miles from shore.

Oh well, Dawn brings with it a new day, with new opportunities.

And our early am captain wanted to take a break, so I ran the boat for a while after that, hoping for something to spark my interest...

Like the chance to be boarded by Homeland Security!

As fun as it may seem (read: not fun.) This little blip on the dial actually went about as smoothly as you can hope for.  It was around 7am or so, and I was at the wheel.  With nothing around me, I really had no reason to be looking behind me.  It wasn't until Carmine whistled at me and waved me down, that I looked over my shoulder and found these fine lads, creeping up my wake.  No sirens, no lights, just a fast boat, and automatic weapons...

Without even a radio call, they sidled right up to me, and three guys hopped on board.  Down below, the rest of the crew was either racked up sleeping, or having some of Arden's fantastic eggs (the eggs were so good, he got breakfast detail each morning).  Now, I can't be certain, but my hunch is that we were being tracked during the evening as we lazily slid up the coastline, and someone with a government pension coming didn't like the looks of what we were doing.  Really, in the end, it amounted to giving ID's, a quick check of the boat, and some nice conversation with a group of guys (kids really) that looked as bored as we did.

So, onward.  We finished the last little bit of the trip, and were tucked into St. Augustine shortly after 10am.  Not too shabby by all accounts.

St. Augustine municipal marina was very nice.  Clean, wide docks, all the amenities you expect for a large marina, but, get this...  Cheap! (comparatively...) The one downfall would be that everyone looking to get on the El Galeon tour kept walking up to our boat and asking how to get there.  Sigh.  Here is a picture of El Galeon taken from just past my boat. When do you think they noticed they were on the wrong dock??  

Gotta say it.  St. A's was fantastic.  Clean, vibrant, pretty city with tons of things to do, and it didn't break the bank.  I have never had an interest or need to go there before, but I'm certainly adding this to my list of places that I would return to.   We had some excellent meals, so nice sightseeing, and as always, plenty of laughs.

After a fun night, although it ended on a sour note as the jerks I was with dragged their feet and I didn't get the chance to sample what looked like amazing waffles and milkshakes (I settled for popsicles at The Hyppo). We all hit the sack, exhausted, but with clean laundry, and got ready for the following days run to Charleston.

I know I'm gonna jinx myself at some point, but to date, we have had FANTASTIC luck with the weather.  Another fantastic day on the water.  Glassy, less than a foot seas, just fantastic.  Our run to Charleston was to be a straight up delivery run.  We had another 200 miles or so to cover, and a day to do it.  Plus, with everything that we heard about Charleston, we all wanted to get there and have a good look around.   So off we went, 27kts. we were going to just haul ass until we saw fish, or Charleston.  

Well, we saw mammals. 

                           

And that was about all we saw.  Again.  Dead water! I am quite shocked by that.  Home, in RI, there seems to always be someone plying the water, and at most times of the day/night.  We have commercial traffic, tugs and barges, charter boats, and recreational boaters.  I said it earlier, its a bit eerie.

Pulling into Charleston was a cinch, and the trip up the river to the MEGADOCK (saying this my best Pro-Wrestler voice) was one of the easiest ports we have been to so far.  

Look!  Another Boat!! 

Nothing like a massive, yacht friendly marina to make you feel poor all over again.  The MEGADOCK caters to all of the large boats passing through the area.

This monster was the Perini-Navi yacht Tamsen.( <---click 2007="" a="" amazing="" amp="" an="" article="" as="" at="" azores="" charleston="" circles="" cost="" estimated="" for="" freakin="" fter="" heading="" in="" inch="" is="" it="" k="" known="" life.="" link="" med.="" money="" n="" nbsp="" not="" of="" ough="" p="" professional="" s="" that="" the="" then="" to="" typo="" uilt="" was="" what="" you="">

Well, past that, Charleston was great.  Plenty to see and do, as well as eat, we had a great day bopping around and feeling like Yankees.  We even hit the Daughters of the Confederacy Museum, which made me feel a bit weird, almost like I was doing something wrong.  Needless to say, the clientele was from a rather narrow demographic.  I didn't sign the guest book.  Lunch at Hyman's was very good, and speaking to the owner for a while was a delight.  Very interesting place to say the least!

And, as per usual, our time goes by much too fast, and leaves our boat to enjoy the fine southern weather while we head home to toil away, in hopes of saving up enough money to feed her yet again.  

Next installment, Hatteras, and our week in the Outer Banks.  Stay Tuned, and thanks for reading.