You, Me, and the D

Georgia on my mind

St. Mary's was a tiny little tourist town. We cruised up the river to get there. What amazes me about this neck of the woods is how flat it is. On the map it looks like a nice protected place and yet when you get there it's like docking or anchoring on a prairie. I digress, as we approached the town we had out the binoculars looking for a fuel dock. None. So we did a slow drive by, and found a free public dock to tie up to. We pulled a Captain Ron and asked for directions. Apparently Nat ran the fuel dock and it was tucked into a tiny corner with barely 6 feet of water. So we pulled around and nicely landed the boat into the fuel dock, and were curious as to why we couldn't pull the boat closer to the dock, oh right we're grounded.... Fun.

We walked up to find Nat, the harbor master, in charge of the marina and fuel pump. Nat was not there. So we called the number on the sign, only to hear the phone in the empty office ring... So we phoned the main marina office, and apparently Nat was out and would be back any moment. Eventually Nat showed up, a geriatric black gentleman with two different height shoes. He then lugged the hose down. When I opened the fuel tank.... Phhhssssss, air was sucked in... Oh no, more issues, this time a poorly vented tank. So we put 6 gallons in and our duty to avoid duty was done.

We headed down river to visit Cumberland Island. Pulled into another four out of five anchor rated anchorage, and enjoyed another restless sleep in a bobbing boat hopping our rusty anchoring techniques held through. They did, and we woke up still floating. Success!

I spent the morning trying to clean the carburetor of the dinghy motor, without taking it off. No luck. So we rowwed over to the park dock, and went on a really cool walk. Cumberland Island has a national park on it that was donated to the park service by the Carnegie family. This island must have been the place to be back in the day with it's huge mansions and exclusive feel. Now there are a few families who have legacy properties on the island, some park rangers and campers, and faral horses. Everywhere we went we saw weather beatten and dilapidated mansions and horses.Dexter loved running into the waves and picking sheels out of the sand. He had to be on a leash or else the sand pipers might not have been so ballsy around him. I finished off the day with a complimentary ice cold shower, and we contemplated leaving the next day.