In the morning before sunup I checked the engine fluids and belt and all looked good, with no water (or anything else) in the engine sump. I did the dishes from the night before and got cleaned up just as the sky was lightening. I finally changed the little fluorescent light bulb above the sink in the galley.
It was a pretty normal day until we got to a pleasant spot named Hell's Gate, a particularly skinny stretch of water with occasional freakishly high currents. Since it was just after low tide Heather made squiggles with our electronic track breadcrumbs and we talked to Chelsea on the phone. This went on for about 45 minutes while the water rose a little more than a foot. Since we saw as little as about 2.5 feet crossing the gate, that extra foot helped keep the crossing from being a little too exciting.
We continued through the salt marshes, finally making it to the Isle of Hope marina, just outside Savanna. Heather did a masterful docking behind a very expensive trawler with a concerned owner looking on. We had a side tie with only 60-70 feet of dock clear to slide our 40 foot sailboat into, with a significant current still running, but Heather made it first try.
The showers were just OK but we didn't care because it felt so good to get cleaned up after another long day. I was already out of shape before I fell, but six weeks as a veal didn't help.
At the dock was a weird cat with lots of winches but no mast, clearly associated (or infatuated?) with Better Call Saul. The guy I saw wasn't Vince Gilligan or one of the actors I recognized, but could have been co-creator Peter Gould. The sticker at the back is a New Mexico license plate "LWRUP".
After a predawn walk up to the bathrooms I got a nice shot of the peaceful waters.
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