a nasal tale

We’ll get to my little tale in a moment.

I took a break and went home for three weeks to enjoy the thirty degree weather for a while and split some wood which is good for the soul.  Had Thanksgiving dinners, three to be exact, with family, friends and neighbors.  And gained eight pounds.

Then I flew back to the boat on the 29th full of trepidation since there had been a big boat fire at the marina, and who knew what else.  Everything was fine and I got going South again on Saturday and am now in St. Augustine getting ready to leave tomorrow morning for Daytona.

Here are some pictures:

Thanksgiving with my ninety-five year old Mom.
                   Walkabout on her mooring.
World War II U.S. Navy pier in Green Cove Springs, Florida
                    Burnt Dock after the four boat fire.


Friday night after I went to bed I was suddenly and unpleasantly jarred awake by a nosebleed.  It had been years since the last one I can remember.  At that time, my doctor cauterized the weak spot that caused it. Welding smoke he speculated. So this was unexpected and, as it turned out, pretty demoralizing. I quickly went to the head and turned on the light, blood was just pouring out spattering the sink. It was also cold, and when the bleeding didn’t stop after an hour I started to shake. I tried to put on a jacket but couldn’t get it on, things were just too messy. I had used every tactic I knew of to staunch the flow and nothing was working.  Two hours later it was still dripping away.  I had cleaned the sink over and over again with a sponge; the blood was running down the drain and I, cold, shaking, and worrying (that’s what I do) rested my head on my arm  and just let my nose bleed out – that’s how I was thinking by then. The blood going down the drain attracted fish and they were going crazy with expectation, splashing and banging the hull. I was thinking thoughts of “Jaws”.

Just a nosebleed? You weren’t there. I was contemplating calling 911 but I was on a boat… out in a river… in Florida! Who would come? I had never heard of anyone dying from one anyway so I took my wet sponge, pressed it against my nostrils and lay down in bed.

I must have dozed off because I woke up choking. I looked up to turn on the light and couldn’t see. Everything was a blur. God, I’m going blind! I lurched off to the head and flipped on the light. There in the mirror was something I hope no one ever has to see; an apparition with black, blood-filled eyes and streams of red running down its face and neck. Time for a selfie? No. The sponge had dammed up my bleeding nose and blood had filled my sinuses while I dozed and then ran out my tear ducts. It was gastly. Talk about dejected, I was at the end of my rope. Lucky for me the bleeding was at it’s final stage. It tapered off after the horror show and I gratefully slept the remaining three hours sitting up.

The trip in the morning went OK – yes, I went anyway – motoring down the St. Johns River to Jacksonville. My head was still stuffed up with the remains of the nosebleed and I gagged a bit before that subsided. It was a nice day, cold with wind on the nose, pun intended, but nice. Had to wait an hour in the strong current for the Main St. lift bridge in Jacksonville at noon then went on to Blount Island where I made an anchoring error and grounded in the mud. Even that had a good ending, the tide came up and I reanchored Walkabout in deeper water by eight o’clock then enjoyed a peaceful night’s sleep at last.

Jacksonville Landing
Jacksonville Landing
Main St. Lift Bridge
Main St. Lift Bridge
Bet you never knew there was so much cheese they need barges!


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Day to day life in the hills of Vermont.

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