Well, the warm and sunny for walks on the beach, etc., didn’t
last long. We awoke to cold, fog and
rain. Charts and a GPS led us to the
marks leading towards Apalachicola. We
were about two hours along, cold and wet,
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
A tiny white skiff and 2 fishermen here!
Hand raking the bottom, fresh oysters to get
Even though they are freezing in the dank, cold and wet.
Two hours more and the rain let up just as we passed through
Apalachicola. We continue up the
Apalachicola River and after 3 or 4 miles we have entered another world. We’ve entered a river in the midst of swamp
and marsh land. Sails would do no good
here since there are trees to the edge of the water on both sides, some twice
as tall as our mast. We could be headed
up any remote river anywhere. I’m reminded of Bogart and Hepburn and may
just go below and start our fire.
We might just have time traveled back a thousand years or
more. There are no signs of humans
here. No trash in the water or visible
on shore, and the only activity we see is turtles by the dozens sunning
themselves on partially submerged logs. The
entire time of the river, about 5 hours, we only saw two other boats, not
counting the Coast Guard that went by as we dropped anchor.
We cannot go too close to the banks. If we didn’t hit a submerged log, a tree
leaning from shore could tear up our mast.
And where is it that snakes drop out of trees on unsuspecting passersby?
We come to a split in the river. Which way do we go? There are no signs or markers. Fortunately either route works as they merge
ahead.
We arrive to cross Lake Wimico. It is about 6 miles long, 3 miles wide and it
seems not much of it is over 2 feet deep.
Stick closely to the narrow channel dredged between the markers.
Past the lake is more swamp country. As someone who lives where the land and even sometimes
the water solid, I could see myself dying if I tried to leave the boat and go
cross country.
We glance down a little side channel and just barely make
out a floating cabin tied to the trees.
Around another bend, several more are hidden just off the river. Surely they are just part time hunting and
fishing camps for really nice folks.
Deliverance was only a movie.
A tiny house on the bank is our first sign of permanent
habitation. It sits atop pilings. The little yard is fenced and has not a blade
of grass or weed, even under the house. Chickens.
As we close in on civilization, it is approaching
sunset. We must anchor along the
bank. Two anchors are used, one from
the bow and one from the stern. This
keeps us from swinging it towards shore and running aground, or out into the
river and being hit. There is small
chance of being hit since we have only seen 3 other boats all day.
The next day is today, 10 February, 2015, a Tuesday. We head out at about 7:30 AM and in a few minutes
it is just after 6:30 AM. We have
crossed from the eastern to the central time zone.
The morning finds us crossing larger unprotected bays. Temperature is in the mid 40’s. We feel head winds of 25 miles per hour and
higher gusts. Small waves throw spray
over the bow. I have seldom been this
cold in the winter in Montana. We decide
this is no fun and find an anchorage in Pearl Bayou outside Panama City. It is nicely protected from the wind and
waves. The sun breaks through and the
sky clears. We whip up a pot of hot
chili for lunch. Even though the winds
are supposed to die down some, we decide this will be just right for a relaxing
afternoon and night. We promise to push
hard tomorrow!
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