No train in earshot. Hallelujah.

After falling asleep last night with every long-sleeved item and blanket available onboard, we awoke to 39 degrees and bodies sore from shivering. A friend on a boat on the west coast texted a few days ago with a photo of himself at the helm bundled up with the caption  “Come to Florida they said. It’ll be warm they said.”, and it’s been our tongue-in-cheek mantra every time the thermometer has dipped below 60 and we find our easily-thinned blood complaining. But 39 onboard! I mean, really, BRR. I can’t wait to forget what it’s like to be cold, hopefully in just a few short days.

We cast off from Stuart this morning and had our usual steam down the ICW. The waterway holds much the same for activity and sights as we’ve seen in year’s past: intensive osprey watching on the mangroved banks of the barrier islands to the north of Jupiter, followed by glittering houses devoid of human existence, polished boats on each dock, and increased boat traffic with each southern bridge met and ducked under. Due to the opening schedule of each bridge (some on the hour/half hour, some on the quarter) and the distance between each, we’re often racing to make the openings. The spacing seems fairly in line with our average motoring speed, so that’s helpful, but a wind direction or current against us can spell timing doom. Missing them means waiting up to a half an hour each time, circling to navigate the current, nearby docks and other waiting vessels, so we do our best to haul buns from bridge to bridge.

We try not to ‘run the ditch’ on weekends so as to avoid the hulabaloo and shananigans of the hundreds of day trippers, but surprisingly on this holiday Monday it wasn’t too crowded ( a hint as to why, perhaps: it was FREEZING). Only a couple of wakes to shake a fist at, though I noticed that our captain didn’t put up too much of a stink. It could be that his fist was frozen. (The thermometer says that the temps have increased to 65, but I’m not buying it. (It’s probably frozen.))

Speaking of said captain, while the girls and I have been playing (and sometimes schooling), his ambitious work list has already had a huge dent put into it. A new engine room blower, new engine panel in the cockpit, a USB port in the cockpit, a new electrical panel and wiring clean up in a packed locker to accommodate the wiring and install of our new AIS transponder, dorade replacements, fan replacement, a new switch for the shower sump, splicing our new jib sheets, and still to come, a holding tank vent, replacing the glass in the forward ports, installing the fin for our outboard (to hopefully get us planing faster), and no doubt dozens of other things. Lest you think I’m sitting around and watching, be assured that I am, in fact, sitting around watching. My list includes the daily feeding and educating of our kids, which is of course no less important, but farther from the satisfying ‘check this off the list’ sort of task.

Truth be told, I have yet to wrap my head around the compilation of what I want the schooling to look like this year, which will be a mash-up of ‘assigned’ work from teachers at Pemetic tied in with the myriad options of boat living/learning infusion. Lily’s recent study of the planets, seasons, moon phases and such will tie easily into a study of weather and a better understanding of the tides. Obviously, this will help to understand navigational choices we make, which is something both of the girls are growing more and more interested in figuring out. Time will tell how any cohesive plan shakes out.

We’re anchored now across the channel from one of West Palm’s city piers (or IN the channel, as my AIS-snooping father would like to think), and after a delicious meal with friends that we were graciously chauffeured to and from (with a pit stop at the market on the way home!), we’re tucked in before our second long day on the waterway tomorrow. It’s the first night anchored amidst the ‘city lights’, which is always exciting, and it also marks the first night where the dang east coast railway isn’t blasting a train whistle within spitting distance of the boat. We have plenty of markers that seem to correspond with our relaxation and increased enjoyment of the trip as we make our way south and east, and creating distance between ourselves and that train is definitely one of them! (Another is being able to see all of the rungs of the swim ladder, so onward for warmth, for quiet, and for clear water!)