The engine would rev, the tachometer would jump by 20/30 RPMs and then drop back down. It couldn't be the filters, they'd only been in use for 65 running hours. Maybe the diesel we took on in North Carolina was contaminated or it could be air in the fuel lines. Tom checked all the fittings; they were tight. In the process of elimination he figured it might be the primary fuel filter that hadn't been changed in three years, but that one's a pain in the butt to replace, so he changed the secondary filters. The quirk in the engine never happened again. He still doesn't think the filters were guilty because the vacuum gauges never moved. Just another mysterious day in the life of a leaky old boat. 

The forecast for Friday didn't look good: 30-40 mph winds out of the northwest and a 100% chance of rain. That put an end to any thought of dropping anchor. Brunswick Landing Marina (Brunswick, Georgia) was five miles out of the way but it was well worth it. By the time we got in, the wind was already howling but the marina staff was right there to help and take our lines. That evening, waves broke over the dock while heavy winds rocked us in our slip and the deluge began. Tucked in and cozy never felt so good. Saturday was blindingly bright and clear and the flags stood straight out all day. The big blow finally tuckered out by Saturday night.

Sunday, October 29. Hello, Florida, we're back! We passed right by the popular and crowded Amelia Island anchorage and instead stopped a few miles to the south. A fish or two made swirls in the water so Tom threw out a lure, just in case there were any hungry trout hanging around, but a family of dolphins swam by to check us out (the mammal, not the fish) so he quit. With the change from daylight to standard time it was dark at 6:30, Tom was in bed with a book by 7:00, and he turned off the light at 7:30. That's a little too early for me so I read for a while and watched a DVD. By the time I was ready for bed it seemed like the middle of the night but it was only a little after ten.

It's hard to go east or southeast early in the morning with the bright sun in your face but that's the way the ICW route curved on Monday, often straight to the east. The glare is murder on the eyes, like looking at crumpled up aluminum foil that's been flattened out with a spotlight shining on the surface, and the instrument panel turns into a big green spot. Even better than glare are the power monsters. About three-fourths of them will slow down before they pass, but you never know which ones will and which ones won't, so Tom decided to turn proactive. Each time one of them roared up from behind, churning the water white and spraying it ten feet into the air, Tom would swivel his chair around, look at them with a face that meant business, and get on the radio. "You wanna slow that thing down?" All but two did, both with unlikely names:  Patience and Karma. 

(click on pictures to enlarge)