Last night we had a good nights sleep, but only after Tom had set our anchor alarm to alert us if our anchor dragged, or broke free.  The Amelia River anchorage is wide open and unprotected. It is also located in the less scenic, industrial area just off Fernandina Beach that includes a paper mill.

As the several weather sites that Tom checks frequently, were calling for wind gusts and rain to set in this afternoon, he found us a more protected anchorage down river where we’ll hunker down until the bad weather passes.

For reference sake, we typically try to anchor in less than 20 foot depths, and our boat only draws 4 feet.  This keeps us from having to let out excessive length of chain, but still allows for plenty of cushion for a 6-7’ tidal drop. 

Following protocol, we weighed anchor, and set out as I took the helm, and Tom left the saloon area.

I was distracted by, what looked like a couple of huge mooring balls that were moving. I stepped away from the helm for a few seconds to retrieve a pair of binoculars. I quickly realized that in that short period of time we had drifted off course out of the main channel into about 11’ of water. Just as I brought her back into the 37’ main channel, our starboard engine shut down, and would not restart.  We can continue on one engine, but steerage can get tricky, especially with strong current and gusting winds.
Tom went down into the engine room to troubleshoot the starboard engine, while I continued at the helm. A few seconds later, our port engine also shut off.  Tom popped out of the engine room, and quickly headed for the bow to drop anchor right in the middle of the now 37’ waterway channel.  The vessels we could see from our location did not give us much confidence about our situation.

Once anchored, my job was to watch the shoreline to make sure we were not getting any closer ( not exactly sure what I could do about that with no engine power),  and also try to alert any approaching vessels to the fact that we were disabled, and anchored in an emergency situation.

Tom returned to the engine room and discovered the culprit of our troubles. He had switched the engines to draw off of the aft tanks that morning.  Unfortunately he had failed to notice that either our recent mechanic, or one from earlier Rockville engine work, had turned the actual tank valves off, resulting in our running out of fuel. As any good captain will do, Tom accepted full responsibility , and promptly bled the engine lines, to get us back underway in about 20 minutes.

We are ever grateful that there were no incoming vessels at that time, and this close call lesson was relearned in a relatively safe area.

Just down river, we had the pleasure of crossing paths with this 85’ Broward Custom luxury Motor yacht “Johnathan III”.

Her bio reads that “she can accommodate 6 guests overnight in 3 cabins, and up to 4 crew onboard to ensure a relaxed luxury yacht experience.  “

We listened in on the VHF when the Captain hailed the Fernandina Marina to request a slip. The deep baritone, melodic, slow, southern drawl, was exactly as we pictured the Captain of such a vessel should possess. He told the marina radio operator that “He would be arrivin shortly (show ot lee) in about 2 hours (our ahs) from the South (sow ah th) .  You could almost catch a whiff of mint, and fine cigar smoke, and hear the clink of ice cubes against heavy cut chrystal, as he swirled his dark Kentucky bourbon.
Such elegance and gentility was a balm to our southern souls after our earlier harrowing experience.