"So you think you can sail?" ~ Mother Nature

When it comes to sailing, you will most certainly find yourself in an unexpected situation when you come down with the common ailment of "get-there-itis." Those plagued with this terrible disease have symptoms including, seeing conditions with rose colored glasses, wanting to get to a new place at all costs, thinking that a time schedule should dictate a sail plan or trading seemingly unpleasant conditions for "less terrible" conditions. To say that Shiloh and crew throw caution to the wind and channel Lieutenant Dan in Forest Gump is most inaccurate. In truth Captain Sean is usually overly cautions. However, the day we left Georgetown we all most certainly came down with "get-there-itis."

The trip down the ICW towards the end of November was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the cooler temps. Even with Shiloh's fireplace, she was having a hard time keeping up with temps below 50. Though things were passible with a couple layers of clothes, the prospect of anything colder was less than desirable. After doing ample research into our weather window, Shiloh's crew had two choices: (1) Stay in Georgetown for another week with temps in the 30s and wait for another good wind or (2) Make the 34-36 hour trip with 10 -15 knots of wind, 5 ft. seas and 50 degree temps. We could cover over 200 miles and be in Jacksonville one go.

Here is the moment when "get-there-itis" set in. We knew option 2 would be a spicy trip but determined it was nothing we couldn't handle. Freezing for a week in Georgetown would certainly be much worse. We wanted to get to "sunny" Florida where it was undoubtedly much much warmer. Option 2 chosen.

With toped off tanks, layers of clothing and life jackets on, we set out for our "quick" jump to Jacksonville. The moment we exited the inlet we began to understand the tone of the journey we were about to embark. It turned out that 5 foot seas really meant 10-15 ft. seas and 10-15 knots of wind really meant 20-25 knots. It turned out that partly cloudy really meant cloudy and later fog that would put the State of Maine to shame. Navigating the inlet in these conditions was tense to say the least. There are frequently submerged jetties near the inlets which are to be avoided at all costs. The problem with avoiding them is that a boat doesn't drive quite as nice as a car. Captain Sean managed to clear Shiloh of all marine obstructions and get her on her way, which was when we were convinced things would get better. They did not get better.

As mentioned in prior posts, the routine when making a long passage is usually crew dinner, split off into 3 hour shifts until breakfast, brew coffee and continue to the destination. The conditions on this particular journey meant none of those things were possible. With such rough conditions we could barely move about the boat, let alone actually do anything. Captain and crew were strapped in at all times and stayed awake in the cockpit to deal with Mother Nature. When desperate hopes that the morning hours would result in a respite were dashed, morale hit rock bottom. We were tired, we were cold, we were dirty, we were wet and we were hungry. We started to reflect on all the things that had not gone as planned on this adventure and began to believe this was the worst idea ever. This. was. miserable. We could not quit now though. We were off the coast and the only way out was through.

In a fit of absolute spite and refusal to let the elements get their way, I decided to cook the life changing morale boosting food of the gods: Mac & Cheese. How do you cook Mac & Cheese with a pot of boiling water in seas of that magnitude? You lock yourself to the stove and have the Captain yell "WAVE" whenever you need to grab the pot to prevent a spill. Through teamwork and determination, the crew finally ate and spirits took an turn for the better. We were getting close to our destination. We could finish this. Goal accomplished. This is the moment the fog set in.

We were used to fog from our time in Maine, but this was some of the worst fog we had experienced. With visibility decreasing, rain setting in, and an imminent sunset, we decided Jacksonville was not in the cards. Not wishing to tempt fate more than we had already, we took the inlet at St. Mary's River to anchor near Fernandina Beach, Fl. With me on the bow in 10 ft. visibility we managed to safely navigate to an anchorage spot to drop the hook. FINALLY, after unjamming the anchor chain which was tossed about in the journey, we sat in the cabin at 10:30 pm completely exhausted and not wanting to move. ever. again.

If you follow our Instagram you will know that we did in fact wind up moving again, and we are so glad we didn't give up. As for the next step of this journey, well, it was more like rest in the lovely town of Fernandina Beach.

~Shiloh Crew