“Dolphins are sunflowers of the water. They adore the Sun, love the ocean and are kind to the land. They remind
us to stay playful, keep our inner child safe, and stand by loved ones.”
~ Reena Doss, Author
Less than twenty-four hours after arriving in Saint Augustine, FL, on February 24th, a weather window opened, enabling a 200 NM passage north to Charleston, SC. We have plans for another passage in the Pacific in March. With only weeks before our next trip and a strong desire to visit our family, we were compelled to carry on with little rest. On Tuesday, we spent the day refueling Kailoa and preparing her for the passage north. Kim tended to her work while Scott experimented with making hard tack and grog, staples carried onboard English ships in the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries.
To make hardtack, mix flour, a small amount of salt, and just enough water to form a stiff dough, roll it out thinly, cut into squares, and bake at a low temperature for a long time until very hard; for grog, simply combine 4 parts water to 1 part rum, and add sugar and lime juice to taste if desired.

The English possess a deep-rooted nostalgia for their rich naval heritage, particularly from the captivating era of sail that spanned from 1750 to 1850. This period, filled with grand voyages and daring adventures, continues to resonate in the hearts of many, reflecting a time when the seas were alive with maritime exploration. It was fun to experience the staples aboard ships during this “Age of Sail”. Ships were invariably built from wood, and the sailors who crewed them are depicted in imagination and literature as firm and unyielding – like steel. “Wooden ships and iron men” is a cliche for that era. Scott must have been looking for a playful antidote to combat our dwindling energy reserves.

That evening, we savored the sights of Saint Augustine and indulged in a delightful dinner at the Drunken Horse, a charming French restaurant with an equestrian theme. Over a bottle of Bernard Florette Sancerre, we reminisced about our journey, accompanied by a delectable spread of French bread, pate, mustard, truffle brie, and goat cheese.

The following day at 0830, we passed through the Saint Augustine Bridge of Lions and exited the channel into the North Atlantic Ocean. The skies were bright blue, and the seas were flat, reflecting the clouds in the sky. Along the way, we were greeted by the playful presence of numerous dolphins in the glassy ocean, always a welcome omen. One pod of Dolphins after another graced Kailoa’s bow as she surged forward. Kim filmed as five dolphins swam gracefully just inches below the surface of Kailoa’s bow. Scott thought that they may have been scratching themselves. We marveled at the dolphins’ speed and control as they skillfully moved above and below the water’s surface while taking periodic breaths. Kim posted the video on Instagram and received feedback that it looked AI-generated. It was not; it was a genuine moment of connection with the marine life surrounding us.

As night set in, the Big Dipper appeared windward of the mainsail. All was calm until Kim received a radio call from a 50-foot sailboat (Nia) approaching from the north at 2200. We had been tracking Nia for a few hours and altering course to ensure we did not intersect. At the same time, Kim noted that the chart plotter also showed an unlit Navy tower a few nautical miles ahead. She adjusted our course by a few degrees to avoid the structure.
Kim was then startled by a radio call from the approaching sailboat with a warning. “Kailoa, this is Nia, over.” “Kailoa, this is Nia, over.” Kim answered the call and switched to channel 68 as instructed. “Kailoa, we want to inform you that we came dangerously close to an unlit Navy tower that was not in the position indicated in the charts.” The female captain indicated that “we could detect the structure on radar and ultimately used flood lights. Even so, we were much closer than we would have liked to be.“ Kim replied. “Thank you for the warning, Nia. Kailoa standing by.” Feeling her heart race, Kim adjusted the course by a couple more degrees as an added safety measure and turned on the radar. Sure enough, a radar signal appeared in line with the course of the passing vessel. The signal did not correspond to the chart. Thinking this was scary, Kim woke Scott for a second pair of eyes to ensure that Kailoa safely avoided the structure, which Scott confirmed. Fully harnessed, Scott got up on deck and switched the preventer. It was a moment that underscored the shared responsibility and camaraderie that define our journey.
During Scott’s 2400 watch, 16 cargo ships appeared on AIS. The ships were anchored 25 miles off Savanah River. Scott maneuvered off course to the east to avoid passing through the anchored ships. When Kim resumed her shift at 0300, she spotted a blinking buoy light (which was not on the chart). Because of the long period between the flash, it was indiscernible against the backdrop of the freighter lights. She altered course to avoid the stationary object. It was visible when we passed the Buoy, indicating that Kailoa was feet away. The numerous discrepancies in the charts served as a reminder of the constant danger of obstructions and the necessity to always stay hypervigilant.

One of the challenges of nighttime passages is that things look different in the night sky. Kim continued to alter course directly downwind and eased the Mainsail to steer safely past Toconao, a 980-foot freighter. Toconao was the ship furthest offshore from the pack of 16. Zim Pacific was moored just behind Toconao, which made visual navigation impossible to decipher. With winds gusting at 16 knots, Kailoa was 16 degrees off her rum line, taking us further off course. As we passed Tucano, one mile to port, Kim jib-ed Kailoa back to our 36-degree rum line with an apparent windangle of 143. Scott woke before his shift, surprised and pleased to find Kailoa back on course.
As Kailoa traveled north, the air temperatures dropped to a tolerable 50 degrees. After a long night at sea, it’s a good feeling to see the light appear on the horizon about an hour before sunrise, signaling the start of a new day and the end of the hardships of nighttime travel. Kim let Scott sleep slightly longer because both his shifts were interrupted, to avoid hazards and maneuver around ship traffic. It was a moment of relief and gratitude for our teamwork and the safety of our journey.
At 0600, there was another 40 NM to the Charleston channel entrance. At 1130, the wind and swells increased as we furled in the mainsail and navigated another 10 NM against the tidal current to Safe Harbor Marina. The refreshing cold wind was a wake-up call. Kailoa pitched without the stability of the mainsail, making for a sporty ride. A cup of coffee is no antidote to fatigue like a chill down the spine. Our hands started to freeze for the first time since November.
The Arthur Ravenel suspension bridge and the Charleston skyline appeared as we headed west. The sight of landfall always brings a sigh of relief. Particulates in the atmosphere formed a shroud over the city, combined with the dense population… our re-entry to civilization. Dozens of Cormorants sprinted across the surface of the choppy seas to take flight as we moved up the channel, a graceful sight against the turbulent waters. The sea temperature registered 57 degrees, and white caps appeared on the murky green water. Winds built to 21 knots as Scott laid Kailoa safely on the dock by 1400. We arrived just in time as the wind speed increased to 27 knots while we adjusted the lines.

Our return to Charleston, SC, marked a travel of over 2700 NM since June 2024. While not the mariners of old, we both felt a profound sense of accomplishment and mastery in managing Kailoa. Communication, looking out for one another, managing sails, energy consumption, water, provisions, navigation, and departure planning, all while battling fatigue and even fear and anxiety, at times. This journey was a testament to our practiced teamwork and shared experiences, and we are grateful to have completed it together.

We learned that overcoming fear and anxiety is a journey that requires courage and determination. It’s important to remember that fear is a natural human emotion, but it doesn’t have to control your life. No matter how small, celebrate each step you take towards overcoming your fear. Recognizing your achievements can boost your confidence and keep you motivated. Fear is a part of life, but it doesn’t define you. With persistence and a positive mindset, you can overcome your fears and follow your dreams. AND …. Like the dolphins, stay playful, keep safe, and stand by each other.
Kailoa Signing Off!!!
Note: We will update our blog as we travel to the Galapagos, Marquesas, Tahiti, and Morea in March, April, and May. In June, we will return to Charleston, SC, and sail back up the East Coast to Marblehead.
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