Off Daytona

The GPS reads 1.5 knots and the seas are glassy; there’s an easterly swell left over from when we did have wind and Alana’s creaking and groaning as she wallows along. Things should pick up this afternoon, hopefully enough to get us to Jacksonville between 2 and 5 o’clock Monday morning when the current should be flooding.

I had a stalker for a while yesterday. A stupid looking seabird, one with a very round, owl-like head, joined up with us. It was either very tame, very stupid, or both, because it would fly slowly along beside the cockpit, just beyond arm’s reach. It was not in any way deterred by yelling, waving or obscene gestures. Even after I resorted to whacking it with a fishing pole it only left briefly, collected its thoughts on the water, then returned to flap along beside us. I’ve never known a seabird to go 20 seconds without moving its bowels, so it was important to me that this one not do so on either myself or Alana. Completely unconcerned with me, the bird landed atop the bimini, not a foot above my head. I could see the dark shape of its duck-like feet through the canvas and I was just waiting for the wet blob of guano to soak into the canvas. I repeatedly struck the canvas from below, but it wasn’t until the third or fourth blow launched it physically into the air that it gave up. No doubt he returned during the night to exact his revenge; I just haven’t discovered it yet.

There was to have been a Delta IV rocket launch last night and I would have been well positioned to see it as we sailed past Cape Canaveral, but for whatever reason it was postponed 24 hours – bummer.

I’ve sailed 956 miles since leaving Pensacola and will have only about 100 to go upon leaving Jacksonville. Those last 100 have the potential to be some of the trickier and more frustrating of the trip. The winds look like they’ll be a bit too northerly for an easy transit and there appear to be any number of ways to run aground while negotiating the swamps surrounding Savannah. I’ll definitely be calling the marina for some local knowledge before leaving the safety of the deep blue sea.

No keepers so far, Conor. Your patented lure has scored some Bonito, but so far the Mahi Mahi have eluded me. I’m guessing it is just too shallow as I have rarely been in more than 100 feet of water, even 16 miles off as I am now.

Barry underwent an enhanced interrogation this afternoon. Under intense questioning he revealed that he was sent here to make my life miserable, a mission he has so far executed flawlessly. I still believe he has some redeeming qualities; they are just deeply buried.