AT WITTS END

After approximately 9,000 years—or at least nine solid months—of being attached to the dock, we finally broke free for a few days.

Sure, we had enjoyed a handful of overnight anchorages here and there, but that was not exactly the grand floating-adventure lifestyle we pictured when we moved aboard our girl a little over a year ago. Boats, as it turns out, are very capable of becoming extremely expensive waterfront apartments if you let them.

But this weekend, we remembered that our house can move.

We slipped away Friday afternoon after work, fully convinced we were heading north up the river. Apparently, our navigational skills needed a little warm-up, because we actually headed south. No harm done—we only traveled about 26 miles before dropping anchor at Palma Cove. A short travel day, but after nine months at the dock, even 26 miles felt like crossing an ocean.

Palma Cove rewarded us with one of those moments that makes boat life worth all the dock lines, maintenance lists, and mystery noises: an almost-full moon setting as the sun came up. It was one of those “put the coffee down and just look” kind of mornings.

Early Birds on a Boat (Too Sleepy to Fly)

Saturday morning arrived bright and early—because apparently we are incapable of sleeping in, even on weekends. Normal people may use Saturday mornings to catch up on rest. We use them to make coffee before sunrise and stare at the sky from the cockpit and flybridge.

Honestly, it is hard to complain when you get to enjoy the setting moon and rising sun with a cup of coffee in hand and no neighbors mowing their lawn at 7 a.m.

After breakfast, we got ourselves organized and headed toward Palatka for the next leg of our grand adventure. A friend had recommended Corky Bell’s Seafood Restaurant, so naturally we made a very important boating decision: we anchored almost directly across the river from it.

Priorities.

A Dinghy Called Half Witt — Witts End’s Little Tender.

Once we were settled, we launched the dinghy—whose name is Half Witt, which feels increasingly appropriate every time we use her—and went out for a little ride around town.

Since we only had one day in Palatka, we felt it was our civic duty to investigate Corky Bell’s. The restaurant did not disappoint.

Back in the day, popcorn shrimp—or Calabash shrimp—was always a go-to order. These days, it seems harder and harder to find. Corky Bell’s had something called “mini shrimp,” and they were indeed very mini. But they were also very good, which is the most important part.

They offered the usual seafood plates with shrimp, two sides, and hush puppies. But here is where Corky Bell’s really won us over: they had a menu section for “lite eaters.” Finally, a restaurant that recognizes not everyone is still in their twenties, working out every day, and capable of eating enough fried seafood to supply a small fishing village.

The lighter meal came with a smaller portion, one side, and hush puppies—which, as everyone knows, still count as an essential food group. It was just right. We left nicely full, not stuffed, and did not need to be rolled back into the dinghy.

Bald Eagle Entertainment: Where Talons Meet Talent

After our meal, we dinghied back to the mother ship and hoisted Half Witt into her proper resting spot. Once she was securely strapped down, we settled into the cockpit to relax.

That is when nature decided to put on a show.

At first, we spotted a bald eagle. Then another. Then a third. They were perched in a tree along the shore before taking off and soaring high above us. It was a beautiful sight—and far more exciting than anything we had watched from the dock in quite some time.

The next morning, we woke up and found the bald eagles again, this time near their nest in one of the trees where we had seen them the evening before. We learned that the third bald eagle was their baby, which made the whole thing even better. Apparently, we had anchored near a bald eagle family gathering.

After enjoying breakfast and one last round of bald eagle watching, we pulled anchor and headed north up the river toward the marina.

It was only a short weekend away, but after nine months tied to the dock, it felt like we had finally remembered what this whole boat-life thing was supposed to be about: sunsets, sunrises, good seafood, questionable navigation, a dinghy named Half Witt, a family of bald eagles, and just enough adventure to make us want to do it all again soon.

Some additional images of our trip

Sunset