I've been paralyzed with indecision: should I write about lithium batteries, travels, the first family visit to the boat, fishing, the FL Keys, lousy forecasts, or further storm damage? Obviously, I've decided to write a bit on the exhausted, storm-tossed visitors I get.
A few days ago I arrived in NC after a passage from Miami and a brief anchoring and rest in Winyah Bay, SC. The initial leg of the journey is typically simple: hop onto the Gulf Stream and head north when weather looks favorable.
My PredictWind app forecast good conditions with the exception of a bit of storm forming a wall around Jacksonville, FL, so I headed north at nearly 150 miles per day, drawing closer and closer to the "stalled front", as the forecasters put it.
As I drew within six hours, the radio forecasts started becoming ominous, saying things like "take shelter if possible" and "every person on board should wear a life jacket" and other phrases to warn of thunderstorms along the coast. None of this inspired confidence or a relaxed attitude, but I guess that WAS their intention.... however, since I was 90 miles from shore I had no option to take shelter and, although I know that thunderstorms typically die quickly when they leave land, the best description of my attitude would be "anxious", especially when they warned of east gusts to 50mph.
Finally, the storms reached me and I felt considerable relief to actually be working my way through the strong wind and building waves rather than simply anticipating....
and, after an hour or so, the wind died away to nothing and I sat in the boat, flopping in the remaining waves.
By sunset, the sea had calmed and a light breeze blew me north...
and, as light dimmed, visitors began to arrive. The first was a sparrow-sized bird with a brick-red breast, apparently very happy to find a solid spot to land so far from shore. It lit upon an anchor and remained there. Sorry about the quality, but night shots...
The second, a shorebird completely unequipped for landing on a structure, arrived with multiple bumps and much flapping, finally falling into the cabin where it stood in some confusion, then began preening it's feathers.
The final arrival circled the boat several times in darkness, drawn by my well-lit sails, then with the avian equivalent of "I don't like this at all, but this is as good as it gets", landed first on the deck, then by the solar panels on top of the cockpit. Odd looking bird and rather shy, but exhausted as it was it made little attempt at further hiding and I got a decent look at it: a kingfisher!
The trio remained aboard for the night and, at first light, two left and, I hope, survived to make it to shore.
The shore bird, not accustomed to this terrain, remained, slipping and stumbling and flapping as the wind and waves gradually increased. I finally approached it, picked it up (SO light and soft!), and released it on some flat cushions in the cockpit. From there it launched, landed in the water, then took to the air and disappeared into the distance.
I wonder if numerous lost birds simply land in the water and die. Sad to think of. I certainly enjoy their visits and wish them well. I realize that my photo of one of the birds is probably unrecognizable, but would be curious about the species of the other two, should anyone recognize them.
