Happy New Year everybody. 1999-I made all my New Years resolutions as I need something to give up when Lent comes around. I, like most of us, ate too much over the holidays. The availability of food is such a luxury for the single handed sailor. I found that I have plenty of will power, it is won’t power that I lack. The festivities have all passed and its time to get back to business.

I left you last on my way to Beaufort, South Carolina. I picked up my friend George in Charleston and he made that two day voyage with me. He was familiar with the water in that area, so I let him man the autopilot that took us to his mothers house in Beaufort. He came on board with his own cellular phone. We were able to conduct comparison tests. His AT&T phone was not receiving signal strength in places Omnipoint had a strong to full signal.

Arriving in Beaufort, we anchored just south of the bridge. There is a city dock available and you may tie your dinghy to it overnight. When I wasn’t being graced by the hospitality of Miss D, George's mom, I had many meals at Hemingway’s, located just a stone's throw from the dinghy dock. Lea and Colin always made sure you had enough to eat and drink.

Zugzwang is a German word that is used in chess. It translates to: The state of being forced to move. I was in a comfortable position in Beaufort, but my itinerary forced me to move. As incentive, I had a family member to meet up with in Savannah. I passed through the deep water off of Hilton Head, and landed outside Savannah at Hogan's Marina . They were the only participating Boat US marina in the area. I found a large shopping center with a grocery store next door. I stayed there for 3 days, saw a bit of the town and had a wonderful time with my family.

During the previous week I noticed that the tidal currents progressively got stronger. I don’t expect them to let up any time soon. Saw grass was beginning to be a minor annoyance. While anchored, it moves by you in one direction and when the tide changes, it goes by again. What doesn’t get caught on your anchor rode or rudder makes a loud scratching sound as it passes. Saw grass, for those of you that aren’t familiar with it, lines the waterway down here. It looks beautiful along the shore. Bamboo like, it stands around 5 feet tall and sports many colors from the constantly changing tides. The green on top changes to brown at the bottom with many shades of yellow in between. On the water, at times, it is an obstacle. Piles of these sticks are everywhere and will wrap themselves around anything.

In order to pull up my anchor in Redbird Creek, Georgia, with my boat hook, I had to first remove nearly one hundred pounds of this stuff. Around this time, fog was also a problem. As there is no radar equipment on the boat, I stayed put until there was visibility. One day, the fog lingered into early afternoon. Near the end of Georgia, I stopped on Jekyll Island. This Island was a summer play ground for a few affluent families many years ago. Their large estates and private club are available to tour and stay at, respectfully.

I used a bicycle, available at Jekyll Historic Marina, and peddled around the northern part of the Island. The Atlantic Ocean was slapping into the east side of Jekyll Island presenting me with the opportunity to walk down steps into it. I had a pizza delivered to the boat that evening. I don’t know why I haven’t thought of that before.

The ICW twists and turns in these parts. A more direct passage exists on the outside, but the forecast was not favorable for it. Here, oyster beds reveal themselves during low tide and dolphins are plentiful, feeding near shallow areas. My first stop in Florida was Fernandina Beach. From a good distance you can see the large paper mill standing on the shoreline.

The mill has two facilities, one at each end of the town. A train moves through the village carrying trees one way and wood pulp the other. I found the slow moving train to be charming. Locals informed me that with one plant temporarily down it’ll be a more pleasant stay. Apparently, the plant that wasn’t in operation blows out a lot of smoke.

After a lay-over in Fort George River, I made it to St. Augustine. I thought I would move out right away, as I was a bit under the weather, and wanting to reach my destination sooner rather than later. This is also where I noticed my engine’s performance diminishing. The approach to St. Augustine is grand. With an active ocean at your back, you wait for the bridge to open. The Bridge of Lions stands in front of St. Augustine like a royal gateway. Circling in front of Castillo de San Marcos (the coquina fortress), I waited for the bridge to open. A cannon went off, and just in case, I instinctively ducked. Initially I planned to pass on through. After passing under the bridge I decided to visit the town before I moved on. Am I glad I did. St. Augustine was founded a year after Michelangelo died and a year before Shakespeare was born.

Highlighting the great Spanish architecture that one sees is Flagler College (ex Ponce de Leon Hotel) which has original Tiffany glass. I found many actors carrying on all around the 'fort' and about town in period costumes, portraying the life of the times. All I can say is, good casting and authentic garb.

If you’re there don’t miss Saint George street, lined with Spanish quarters. Yes, it has an abundant amount of touristy things to visit like the oldest this and the oldest that. They even had a wax museum with Jerry Seinfield. George and Kramer were in progress and Elaine's head, with no hair, was on the floor. The immediate area, however, has cute shops scattered about and is charming to walk though. That night I saw my first boat parade. Being a northerner, I never thought to put Christmas lights on a boat. It was very entertaining.

I left the next morning and entered Marine Land before the sun set. I gassed up at Palm Coast Marina and when I attempted to start the engine, my electric start switch crumbled. I had to stay the night in order to completely remove the switch before I continued on. I'm glad the pull start was repaired in Annapolis. I left there, in the morning, with difficulties. My Evinrude did not readily turn over, and when she did, she stalled.

I was aware of the lack of horsepower as I proceeded down through an area which seems to house the biggest bird population on the ICW. Over the next three days I saw bald eagles being chased by osprey, wood storks, flocks of white pelicans, white ibis as well as several breeds of herons and egrets. Throughout Mosquito Lagoon there were many small Islands that were infested with brown pelicans. Sitting all over the dense vegetation, from a distance, they appeared to be ornaments decorating the greenery. At that time the wind direction was auspicious enabling me to use my genoa.

My engine was dying, pushing me only 2 1/2 knots at slack tide. I slowly motored past the Palm Beaches and the three bascule bridges nestled in front of Daytona to Boca Raton Lake. I noticed all these manicured houses setting up for an event. The backyards facing the water that weren’t already prepared had caterers setting up tables and unbagging chairs. One house was expressing itself by displaying a large statue, wrapped in Christmas lights, of a hand extending it’s middle finger high into the air.

Starting with a traveling fireworks display trailing a fire boat, I watched a long procession of large expensive boats elaborately decorated for the season. Most of these boats looked like floats that you might see at a celebrated parade on land. Besides the typical Santas, some of the participants were outfitted with costumed characters complimenting the vessel’s theme.

In the morning the engine would not start. The stainless steel clip that lifts a gear up to the flywheel broke while trying to crank the engine. I walked a few miles in the rain, from the dingy, to an auto parts store and a dry cleaners. There is nothing like a walk in the rain to put thing in perspective. From the dry cleaners I got a wire hanger to fabricate a new clip. At the auto parts store I bought new plugs, ether, a spark tester, and a feeler gauge. I wanted to be sure that the spark plug gap was exact, even though I new that a paper clip was close to the .030 that is required. With the help of a man named Lincoln, aboard the S/V Snowbird, we got her to turn over by twisting the idle screw all the way open.

I limped out of there, top speed: 2 knots. That does not make traveling under bridges pleasant. On the ICW, there are more bridges in Florida than all the other states combined. No less than three times was I asked to move faster, as my lack of speed constantly held up traffic. Bridge tenders that witnessed my arrival performance requested that I wait until all boats in sight were closer for an opening.

At one bridge, the current was against me with such force that even though I was at full throttle, I was left stationary just 12 feet from the opening. After 10 minutes of that, the bridge closed. An approaching power boat, spotting my difficulties, pulled me through for the next opening.

At Brook Memorial Bridge, I got close enough, as to not hold up traffic, and the tide sucked me towards it. At full speed, I could not fight the current. There, I went under a barely open bridge sideways. The coast guard, although they didn’t say anything, was there on the other side, watching. It was time to pull over and have this Evinrude professionally repaired. It’ll do wonders for my nerves. I did so at the Rickenbacker Marina on Virginia Key, just across from Miami...