Posted by: adventuressetravels | July 6, 2010

Safe Harbor

“You’ve got two greens and a red.  See that green right ahead?  That’s your pivot point right there,” B guided us as we motored along the Intercoastal Waterway.  

The green buoy “dinged” at us as if to signal that here was the place to turn.

The freedom of the ocean was gone, replaced by land hemming us in on either side.

“I think that’s St. Simon’s Island, and over there is Jekyll Island.  That’s where the Rockafellers had their home,” Captain X commented as we passed a tangled line of trees, shrouding the island interior from sight.  Moments later we floated by a little foot bridge which served as a window into a lovely little meadow. “By law 60% of the island is undeveloped – it’s a national park.”

I could well believe it; the island conjured up whispers of the grandeur of the “Old South.”

 “I can’t imagine how Christopher Columbus did this,” B shook his head steering away from shallow waters the sensors had indicated were up ahead.

It was a glorious morning, but I just couldn’t enjoy it.  We were drawing closer to the end of our trip by the minute. 

The end of an adventure, like the end of a relationship, is always a little sad.  Especially when it draws to a close prematurely, abruptly, or sooner than expected.  The night before I had found out that we were cutting our trip short and pulling into our destination, Brunswick, Georgia that morning.  I wasn’t ready for the trip to be over.  I wasn’t ready to exchange fresh ocean air whipping past my face, the constantly changing ocean, for being trapped on dry land. 

I tried to talk the captain into sailing a little further north, extending our trip.  After all; he had talked about wanting to sail up to Chesapeake Bay.  Maybe he would listen to my requests.  Maybe… but my best efforts were all for naught.  This was the safest marina on the Eastern seaboard.  Squirreled away behind barrier islands at the end of a section of the intercoastal waterway, with the reinforced floting cement docks, it was all but hurricane-proof.  Not only was the marina safe, it actually catered to Catamarans.  We were heading into port and there was nothing I could say or do to change that.

Flanked on either side by barrier islands we motored up the intercoastal waterway.  I felt the land pressing in on me, weighing down on my soul.  The freedom of the ocean was gone, I felt like a prisoner being dragged to her doom.  By 8:00am we were passing under the massive spidery bridge.  It was incredible how something so grand could be held together by wires so fine.  By 9:00 we were nearing the Marina.  10:00 and we were docked. 

I could almost hear the prison latch fall into place.  My heart sank as the boat was tied into place.  We’d be wrapping things up on the boat for a few days, but tied to a dock, like a wild animal on a leash.  Why couldn’t we have stayed out for just a few more days?  Just one more day? 

I was soon to discover the answer to that question…

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