CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY: VIVA EL DELFIN!

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY: VIVA EL DELFIN!

Here we are at Sail Harbor Marina on Wilmington Island, one of the “Sea Islands” off the coast of Georgia. It’s November 15 and it’s 37 degrees, but according to my Weather Channel, it “feels like 31”. Thank you very much. Don’t get me wrong. It’s sunny. The sky is blue porcelain. It’s just not what we expected from the nearly Deep South – ever. I remember the one inch of snow that fell on Atlanta last winter and tied up traffic for days, as people abandoned their cars rather than wait a day or more for snow removal. But that was last winter and that was Atlanta, just an hour’s drive from the Smoky Mountains. Savannah is on the Coast, for gosh sakes, and it’s supposed to be warm here, isn’t it? Oh, never mind. This place returns to normal in about a week. The “Polar Vortex” has apparently reached one or two of its icy fingers below the Mason Dixon Line – way below. It’s not Chicago weather by any means. Not Pocono Pines either. It’s just colder than normal. And there was a time, not so long ago, when we knew what “normal” was in the climate department. Not so much anymore. Until further notice from NOAA or the United Nations Commission on Climate Control, “normal” should be a high in the high 60’s and a low in the high 50’s in Savannah, Georgia in mid-November.

Enough about the weather. We’re taking a few days off from our trek south, so that I can travel by land to Tampa for a Monday doctor’s appointment. Tampa, by the way, is supposed to reach 80 degrees on Monday – with lots of rain. The Admiral found the Sail Harbor Marina and Boatyard, as he searched the Thunderbolt, Ga. area for a marina that is not as exposed as the Thunderbolt Marina or the two marinas right before the bridge, Hinckley’s and Savannah Bend. We have seen huge barges go up and down the Wilmington River, when we stayed at  Thunderbolt, and they not only create a big wake, but they also come pretty close to the boats tied up at those marinas. I shudder to think what damage a barge could do crashing into the side of Slow Motion. It doesn’t happen often, but the Admiral likes our chances better in Turner Creek with no barges passing in the day or night, than sitting like a duck near the middle of the Wilmington River channel. Yes, we miss our daily quota of six Krispy Kremes doled out to transient boaters by the Thunderbolt Marina, but yesterday I found the KK factory and brought back two of the Admiral’s favorites – chocolate covered, custard-filled confections. So we’re managing. It’s about a quarter to third of a mile hike to the bathrooms and laundry from our outpost on the farthest end of the farthest dock here at Sail Harbor, but who doesn’t like an invigorating walk in 37 degree temps?

The porpoises have been homing in on Slow Motion daily, much to our delight. They must have an active network which spreads the word from one river to the next that we’re on our way. First, we see them in front of Slo Mo, lazily diving in and out of the water. Then I run down to the bow and start squealing dolphin sounds (I like to think they’re dolphin sounds – probably just irritating human squeals). And one or two – or four or more – porpoises show their snouts, as they race along next to the bow on both sides. They rise out of the water from time to time, and often they turn their entire bodies to get a good look at the squealing animal – me. One porpoise did a complete rollover in the water for me and didn’t lose his/her momentum going forward. These mammals are about the coolest in the entire universe. They have the entire package – brains, a beautiful body, speed, agility, great sense of humor, generosity and teamwork. What can we not learn from the dolphins? When was the last “Dolphin War”? What do they care about advancing one God over all others? Do they hate Barack Obama? Do they hate anybody? Are they polluting the waters? Are their kids out of control? Do they carry concealed weapons? Do they care about my skin color, gender or nationality? I know, I know, they’re just “fish” (not really). But they enrich our lives so much. I am so grateful to have this opportunity to travel through the Intracoastal Waterway with them as my frequent companions. Viva el delfin! Ole!