Our two hour flight to Savannah took all day due to a failure in the aircraft monitoring system just before take-off—better before than after—resulting in a return to the gate and transfer to another aircraft, all of which was handled as efficiently and courteously as possible.
We landed in Savannah at sunset, several hours later than scheduled, and Carol then drove the forty miles to our hotel on the ocean side of Hilton Head, arriving after dark and a stop for a bottle of champagne. From our balcony we could hear and smell the ocean, which was wonderful, but not see it.
The champagne was consumed with fish tacos from room service, mine blackened mahi-mahi, Carol’s shrimp. Both good.
While I am routinely awake at midnight during passages, I almost never am on land and wasn't last night.
While I am routinely awake at midnight during passages, I almost never am on land and wasn't last night.
This morning we drove to the condo, where boxes containing about half my freeze dry meals were waiting—most of the rest is due today—and then went to GANNET.
We found the little boat pretty much as I left her, though a little clammy inside.
The batteries were at full charge.
The batteries were at full charge.
I fit the newer Torqeedo which started as it should.
I tested the three Raymarine tiller pilots, all of which are working.
The depthsounder works.
The wind instrument works.
All this is suspiciously as it should be.
I mopped up a little water in the bilge with two paper towels and we left to return to the hotel and a walk on the beach.
On this sunny January 1, with a light breeze and temperatures in the low 70sF/low 20sC, there were many people on the beach, walking, riding bicycles, sitting, building sandcastles, throwing footballs, even a few children in the water.
Tomorrow GANNET is scheduled to be hauled for antifouling.
I am writing in our hotel room with the door open to the balcony and susurration of the ocean.
It is good to be on a coast.
