We took it as a good sign that we passed into Florida on the first day of March (our boat is the triangular shaped object in the bottom right).
Crossing the St. Andrews Sound brought us fairly close to the Atlantic. The water was pretty choppy and things were flying all around the cabin. Everyone started to feel a little nauseous so we put on acupressure bands and sat with Matt up in the cockpit looking at the horizon. As we passed Fernandina, the engine hesitated and then the RPMs started dropping rapidly. We quickly shut off the engine and threw up a sail. Matt looked at me like he couldn’t believe this was happening again. I just started laughing. He looked at me and said, “Agh! Why are we doing this?!” “That,” I said, “is equivalent to asking that same question during childbirth. It’s irrelevant, it’s not helpful, and it just exacerbates the pain. Let’s ask it again once we get to someplace we want to be.” We decided that all of the bouncing around may have dredged up sludge from the bottom of the fuel tanks. Since the engine was overdue for a servicing, we called Boat U.S. and they towed us down to Jacksonville, FL where we had already scheduled an appointment. That night, I said that at least we made it to Florida. Matt said, “Yes, but we didn’t even limp across the finish line – we got dragged over it.” That, my friends, is beside the point.