When we got to St. Augustine we were surprised to find an  opening in the crowd  where we could drop the hook. The anchorage is usually packed by noon. The old Bridge of Lions was gone with a temporary structure in its place until they can finish a new bridge in 2010. At that time the lions are supposed to be returned back in their rightful places, as well as new light fixtures made just like the 1927 originals "to enhance its historic aesthetics,"  according to a press release. 

It's not unusual to have a tough time rowing to the dinghy dock in St. Augustine with the strong currents they have. This time was no exception, but Boxer's strength got us ashore safely (that's Tom's new nickname, as in Animal Farm). He even made me wear a life vest. We walked down King Street to the post office to pick up a package of mail and I saw a "Ghost Tours" sign on a door that lured me inside. What better time to check out the ghosties than just before Halloween? I bought two tickets. Tom's enthusiasm was underwhelming. 

Our tour began at 8:00 as we followed our guide, dressed in period clothing, who carried a gun stuffed into her billowing skirt, along with a lantern to light the way. When you photograph ghosts they show up as pink or white orbs in the picture or sometimes as smoky apparitions. Mine are always white orbs. Of the three here, the one at the right was taken at the former gated entrance to the city where the apparition of a little girl named Elizabeth is frequently seen dancing around its arch during the wee hours. The doorstep (above, left) is where two poodles are sometimes seen who waited in vain for their dead owner's return. People have reportedly put a hand out to pet them, only to have their hands pass right through. The third shot (left) was taken at the old Spanish fort, Castillo de San Marcos, where in 1836 the Seminole Chief Osceola and eighty warriors were captured and held prisoner. The chief was taken to Charleston to die after he became ill but the warriors remained confined in the fort until the end. Looks like St. Augustine has plenty of spirits.

On Tuesday, the last day of October, Tom wanted to pull out early (what else is new) so he rowed us in to use the showers when it was barely light enough to see. We were done and underway by seven and I was grateful for cloud cover - no squinting into the glare. The day was ordinary until about 3:00 near Daytona. I was on the bridge and Tom rushed up the ladder, "We have to shut down." That could not be good. He'd heard a rattle in the engine. We stopped just outside the channel and he opened the engine compartment to discover that a bolt that held a pulley for the water pump was loose. He tried to tighten it. No luck. The shaft kept turning but the pulley wasn't holding it. He started taking everything apart and found that a part called a woodruff key for the slot appeared to have sheared off. All he could do at that point was to line up the pulley, press it against the water pump shaft, torque the bolt down hard and hope it would keep it from turning on the shaft. He said if he put too much pressure on the engine belt the pulley would work loose and spin on the shaft instead of turning the water pump. Once again, the worry lines deepened. I don't know what he'll do for excitement in the future when he doesn't have an old boat to coddle. We called a few marinas in the area just in case the temporary fix gave out but "They want to hold you upside down and shake your pockets for everything you've got," was Tom's way of phrasing it. He decided to shoot for Fort Pierce where we'd be stopping anyway.

(click on pictures to enlarge)