Florida flotsam Lindsay McRory December 12, 1995 The sound of Second Wind crashing into the Bridge of Lions was still fresh in my mind at 6:30 the next morning when I woke to another huge crash, followed by Hakuna Matata lurching up and forward. Must have been a dream, I thought. We were safely tied up at St. Augustine Municipal Marina. I was just about to go back to sleep when I heard panicked voices yelling for help. A boat docked beside us had tried to get an early-morning start. After backing out of the slip, they turned a little too quickly and the swift current caught the boat, driving it sideways into Hakuna Matata's stern. The current was too swift to get them off us, so we set fenders and tied lines to minimize the damage. After a three-hour wait, the current started to reverse and off they were. To put things in perspective, the entire Florida stretch has not been a shoal-searching demolition derby, although it seems like it at times. The Intercoastal has been deeper, wider, and more consistent than the Georgia stretch. The long stretches between the inlets are worry-free. The difficulties are at the inlets to the Atlantic Ocean, which have been altered by the heavy fall weather that rearranged even the smallest inlets. Out of the 160 miles of Florida we've covered so far, we've had roughly five total miles of very difficult going: St. Mary's inlet, Nassau Sound, St. Augustine inlet, and Matanzas River inlet. As we migrate south, we occasionally cross paths with about 25 other boats that are moving south at roughly the same pace we are. They have averaged about three groundings each, although none required commercial assistance to get off. The only significant damage reported was Second Wind's bridge beating. The powerboaters have had a much tougher time of it. It seems that powerboats don't run aground as much as sailboats, but when they do, it's much more serious. When driven up on a shoal, a big powerboat usually needs a tow to get off. To make things worse, damaged propellers and propeller shafts are a frequent occurrence. After a week in St. Augustine we cast our docklines at 7:30 in the morning. A cold front had passed a few days earlier, leaving clear blue skies and warming days. A strong current carried us to Marineland Florida in three hours. Marineland's claim to fame is its oceanarium. (In an oceanarium, many naturally hostile species live together, like they would in the open sea.) Kita and Wesley especially enjoyed the porpoise show. All in all, a good time. The marinas further south were filling up for the Christmas holidays, so rather than spend an extra day at Marineland we decided to make tracks further south.