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    • CURRENT LOCAL NOTICES TO MARINERS

      Here are the latest Local Notices to Mariners and NAV ALERTS that are relevant to ICW cruising in Districts 5, 7 and 8, the OBX, AICW, OWW, Keys, GIWW and adjacent waters. Open each LNM link for the USCG notice and a chart for each location. Listed north to south to north. NAV ALERTS will also be posted on our Homepage.

      For previous Local Notices, go to the Specific State or Region on our Homepage

       

      Week 29/26

      LNM: Off WW, Bass Inlet Daybeacon 7 Destroyed

      LNM: AIWW MM:324.8, Cape Fear River – Little River Daybeacon 55 Relocated

      LNM: AIWW MM:324.8, Cape Fear River – Little River Daybeacon 55 Set TRUB

      LNM: GIWW MM:65.0, Venice Inlet-Siesta Key Daybeacon 42 Destroyed

      LNM: AIWW MM:324.8, Cape Fear River – Little River Daybeacon 55 Destroyed

      LNM: Off GIWW-West MM:465.2, Palacios Channel Light 13 Leaning

      LNM: GIWW-West MM:637.7, Land Cut-Arroyo Colorado Daybeacon 107 Extinguished

      LNM: AIWW MM:785.3, Matanzas River Daybeacon 38 Missing

       

      Week 28/26

      LNM: AIWW MM:375.6, Little River-Winyah Bay Light 29 Damaged

      LNM: Off GIWW, North Apollo Beach Daybeacon 17 Missing

      LNM: Off GIWW, North Apollo Beach Daybeacon 15 Missing

      LNM: GIWW-West MM:644.1, Arroyo Colorado Cutoff Channel Buoy 5 Offstation

      LNM: AIWW MM:325.4, Cape Fear River – Little River Daybeacon 57 Extinguished

      LNM: Off GIWW-East, Mobile Channel Light 68 Missing

      LNM: Off GIWW-West MM:629.7, Port Mansfield Channel Daybeacon 34 Destroyed

      LNM: GIWW-West MM:643.6, Land Cut-Arroyo Colorado Buoy 135 Missing

      LNM: GIWW-West MM:639.5, LAND CUT-ARROYO COLORADO LIGHT 115 Destroyed

      LNM: GIWW-East MM:168.9, Pensacola-Mobile Daybeacon 50 Missing

      LNM: AIWW MM:127.4, Pungo River Channel Light 23 Extinguished

      LNM: Off GIWW-West MM:629.9, Port Mansfield Channel Daybeacon 11 Damaged

      LNM: GIWW-West MM:643.9, Arroyo Colorado Cutoff Channel North Entrance Buoy 2N Missing

      LNM: GIWW-West MM:643.6, Land Cut-Arroyo Colorado Buoy 135 Missing

      LNM: GIWW-West MM:639.5, LAND CUT-ARROYO COLORADO LIGHT 115 Destroyed

      LNM: GIWW-West MM:630.0, Land Cut-Arroyo Colorado Daybeacon 74 Missing

      LNM: GIWW-West MM:636.0, LAND CUT-ARROYO COLORADO LIGHT 99 Damaged

      LNM: GIWW-West MM:633.1, Land Cut-Arroyo Colorado Light 88 Missing

      LNM: Off GIWW-West MM:629.8, Port Mansfield Channel Daybeacon 31 Destroyed

      LNM: Off GIWW-West MM:629.7, Port Mansfield Channel Daybeacon 34 Destroyed

      LNM: Off GIWW-West MM:633.1, Port Mansfield Channel Light 4 Missing

      LNM: GIWW-East MM:148.9, Pensacola-Mobile Buoy 114 Offstation

      LNM: GIWW-East MM:148.9, Pensacola-Mobile Buoy 113 Offstation

      LNM: Off AIWW, St Marys Entrance Lighted Buoy 4 Offstation

      LNM: GIWW-East MM:54.1, Marianne Channel Daybeacon 26 Destroyed

      LNM: Off , Lynnhaven River Eastern Branch Daybeacon 14 Offstation

      LNM: Off AIWW-DismalSwamp, Lynnhaven River Eastern Branch Buoy 1EB Offstation

      LNM: GIWW-West MM:646.8, Harlingen-Port Isabel Daybeacon 12 Destroyed

      LNM: GIWW-East MM:206.0, Santa Rosa Sound Daybeacon 96 Set TRUB

      LNM: GIWW-East MM:281.7, North Bay Daybeacon 1 Destroyed

      LNM: AIWW MM:293.6, Carolina Beach Inlet Buoy 8 Missing

      LNM: Off , Brownsville Channel C Range Rear Light Extinguished

      LNM: Off WW, Lenoxville Point Buoy 2 Shoaling

      LNM: Off WW, Lenoxville Point Buoy 1L Shoaling

      LNM: GIWW-West MM:660.3, Harlingen-Port Isabel Daybeacon 59 Missing

      LNM: GIWW-West MM:499.3, San Antonio Bay Daybeacon 24 Missing

      LNM: GIWW-West MM:496.5, San Antonio Bay Light 15 Missing

      LNM: AIWW MM:293.1, New River – Cape Fear River Light 153 Missing

      LNM: AIWW MM:293.5, New River – Cape Fear River Buoy 155 Missing

      LNM: AIWW MM:287.8, New River – Cape Fear River Daybeacon 135 Missing

      LNM: GIWW-East MM:40.8, Lake Borgne Daybeacon 7 Set TRUB

      LNM: GIWW-East MM:40.8, Lake Borgne Daybeacon 7 Destroyed

      LNM: Off AIWW MM:464.7, Cooper River Lighted Buoy 52 Offstation

      LNM: GIWW-West MM:499.3, San Antonio Bay Daybeacon 24 Missing

      LNM: GIWW-West MM:496.5, San Antonio Bay Light 15 Missing

      LNM: Off AIWW, Roanoke Sound Channel Light 36 Destroyed

      LNM: GIWW-East MM:160.2, Pensacola-Mobile Daybeacon 90 Extinguished

      LNM: GIWW-East MM:164.5, Pensacola-Mobile Light 68 Extinguished

      LNM: AIWW MM:714.9, Amelia River Lighted Buoy 4 Missing

      LNM: Off GIWW-East MM:103.7, Pascagoula Channel A Range Rear Light Extinguished

      LNM: Off GIWW-East MM:104.5, Horn Island Pass Entrance Range Front Light is Dim

      LNM: AIWW MM:330.6, Cape Fear River – Little River Buoy 82 Relocated

      LNM: AIWW MM:227.7, Bogue Inlet Buoy 17 Relocated

      LNM: AIWW MM:25.3, Great Bridge to Albemarle Sound Light 27 Missing

      LNM: GIWW MM:41.3, Lemon Bay Channel Daybeacon 18 Missing Dayboards

      LNM: AIWW MM:329.9, Cape Fear River – Little River Light 78 Extinguished

      LNM: GIWW-East MM:164.5, Pensacola-Mobile Light 68 Damaged

      LNM: AIWW MM:708.6, MSF Range Sensor Daybeacon DR Extinguished

      LNM: AIWW MM:745.9, Pablo Creek Light 27 Extinguished

       

      Week 27/26

      LNM: GIWW-West MM:669.1, Brownsville Channel Light 31 Offstation

      LNM: Off , Poquoson River Light 15 Extinguished

      LNM: AIWW MM:785.3, Matanzas River Daybeacon 38 Destroyed

      LNM: Off GIWW, North Apollo Beach Daybeacon 17 Destroyed

      LNM: Off GIWW, North Apollo Beach Daybeacon 15 Destroyed

      LNM: GIWW-East MM:160.2, Pensacola-Mobile Daybeacon 90 Destroyed

      LNM: Off AIWW MM:572.1, Tybee Knoll Cut Range Lighted Buoy 20 Extinguished

      LNM: Off AIWW MM:583.7, Barnwell Island Flats Lighted Buoy 50 Offstation

      LNM: Off GIWW-West MM:531.1, Aransas Bay Alternate Route Daybeacon 56 Offstation

      LNM: AIWW MM:776.8, Salt Run Daybeacon 4 Damaged

      LNM: GIWW MM:1.7, Pine Island Sound Daybeacon 5 Missing

      LNM: Off GIWW, Port Manatee Channel Inbound Range Rear Light Extinguished

      LNM: Off AIWW MM:5.2, Hospital Point No Wake Buoy Offstation

      LNM: AIWW MM:238.3, Bogue Sound – New River Buoy 60 Relocated

      LNM: Off AIWW MM:227.7, Bogue Inlet Buoy 11 Relocated

      LNM: Off AIWW MM:227.7, Bogue Inlet Lighted Buoy 13 Relocated

      LNM: AIWW MM:227.7, Bogue Inlet Buoy 17 Relocated

      LNM: Off , Little River Inlet Daybeacon 19 Destroyed

      LNM: GIWW-East MM:249.3, Choctawhatchee Bay Daybeacon 29 Missing

      LNM: GIWW-East MM:253.5, Choctawhatchee Bay Buoy 2 Extinguished

      LNM: Off GIWW-East MM:104.2, Pascagoula Channel Lighted Buoy 32 Extinguished

      LNM: Off AIWW MM:895.0, Sykes Creek Daybeacon 5 Missing

       

      Week 26/26

      LNM: Off AIWW, Coastal Virginia Offshore Wind WTG F10 Extinguished

      LNM: Off WW, Coastal Virginia Offshore Wind WTG F09 Extinguished

       

      Week 22/26

      LNM: Off GIWW MM:95.5, Egmont Channel Range Front Light is Dim

      LNM: GIWW MM:110.7, Boca Ciega Bay Daybeacon 13A Set TRUB

      LNM: Off GIWW-East, Jourdan River Channel Daybeacon 9 Missing

      LNM: GIWW MM:110.7, Boca Ciega Bay Daybeacon 13A Destroyed

       

      Week 39/23

      LNM: Alt ICW MM 7, Long Term Deep Creek Bridge Replacement, Dismal Swamp Canal, NC

      For previous Local Notices, go to the Specific State or Region on our Homepage

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    • LTM Additions So Far Today: Today (Mon, Jul 13)

      0 New LTM\’s Added Today. Note this post is updated hourly so check back as the day progresses for the lastest and updated information.

      SELECT LTM Area:

      SELECT Format:
       

      0 ALL Areas LTM\’s Added on 2026-07-13

      ALL Areas List for 2026-07-13 (0 Found)

      No LTM on 2026-07-13

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    • Southeast Marine Fuel Best Prices as of Jul 08

      This week’s lowest current marina fuel prices as of Jul 08
              Diesel Range: $4.00 to $6.70 Lowest @ Port Consolidated in (Eastern Florida)
              Gas Range: $4.20 to $6.37 Lowest @ Centerville Waterway Marina in (Virginia to North Carolina)
      Remember to always call the marina to verify the current price since prices may change at any time. Also please let us know if you find a marina’s fuel price has changed via the Submit News link.

      SELECT Fuel Type:
      SELECT Format:
      Lowest Diesel Price in Each Region

      Fuel Price Report Brought to you by:

      Ft. Pierce City Marina
      Ft. Pierce City Marina specializes in overnight dockage and 22 hour fueling.

      Lowest Diesel Prices Anywhere

      All Regions (Price Range $4.00 to $7.90)

      $4.00 Port Consolidated (07/06)
      $4.36 Anchor Petroleum (07/06)
      $4.39 Wacca Wache Marina (07/07)

      Lowest By Region

      Virginia to North Carolina (Price Range $4.55 to $5.65)

      North Carolina (Price Range $4.48 to $6.60)

      $4.48 Albemarle Plantation Marina (07/06)
      $4.49 Dudley’s Marina (07/06)
      $4.59 Dowry Creek Marina (06/22)

      South Carolina (Price Range $4.39 to $7.05)

      $4.39 Wacca Wache Marina (07/07)
      $4.66 Harborwalk Marina (07/06)
      $4.75 Hazzard Marine (07/06)

      Georgia (Price Range $4.50 to $6.10)

      Eastern Florida (Price Range $4.00 to $6.70)

      $4.00 Port Consolidated (07/06)
      $4.36 Anchor Petroleum (07/06)
      $4.76 Sailfish Marina of Stuart (07/06)

      St Johns River (Price Range $5.15 to $7.90)

      Florida Keys (Price Range $5.20 to $6.44)

      Western Florida (Price Range $4.27 to $7.10)

      $4.27 Shields Marina (07/07)
      $4.39 Sea Hag Marina (07/06)
      $4.70 A-1 Fuel Service (07/06)

      Okeechobee (Price Range $5.48 to $5.53)

      $5.48 Gulf Harbour Marina (07/06)
      $5.53 Sunset Bay Marina (07/06)

      Northern Gulf (Price Range $5.34 to $5.39)

      $5.34 St. Andrews Marina (07/06)
      $5.39 Moorings of Carrabelle (07/06)

      Texas (Price Range $4.61 to $4.61)

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    • NHC: TROPICAL STORM CHARTS AND UPDATES

      The National Hurricane Center chart below updates automatically and shows the latest storm positions. Click the chart for the full NHC report. While port conditions are primarily for commercial mariners, they give a strong indication of the Coast Guard’s appraisal of the storm’s severity.

      Categories:
      • Category 1: winds between 74 m.p.h. and 95 m.p.h.
      • Category 2: winds between 96 m.p.h. and 110. m.p.h.
      • Category 3: winds between 111 m.p.h. and 129 m.p.h.
      • Category 4: winds between 130 m.p.h. and 156 m.p.h.
      • Category 5: winds of 157 m.p.h. or greater.
      Hurricane Season Port Condition Definitions 
      
      
      
      

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    • How a Tiny Caribbean Island Made American Independence Possible – Loose Cannon

      Cruisers Net publishes Loose Cannon articles with Captain Swanson’s permission in hopes that mariners with saltwater in their veins will subscribe. $7 per month or $56 for the year; you may cancel at any time.

       

         
       
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      When all else fails, try journalism.


         
      On Nov. 16, 1776, the Andrew Doria, coming from the fledgling United States, was acknowledged with the firing of a cannon from St. Eustatius. This event is now known as the ‘First Salute.’ Painting by Phillips Melville, USMC (Retired) via Wikimedia Commons

      The author is director of Historic Preservation and Community Planning Program at the College of Charleston. This story first appeared in The Conversation on July 1, 2026 and is reprinted here with permission.


      By R. GRANT GILMORE III

      The American Revolution is often told as a heroic story of 13 colonies rising up against a mighty empire and, with some help from France, winning their independence.

      But the real story is more complicated. As the United States approaches the 250th anniversary of its independence, it is worth remembering that success on the battlefield depended not only on courage and ideals, but also on trade, credit, shipping and access to military supplies.

      The center of that trade was not the 13 Colonies – but south of Loyalist Florida, in the greater Caribbean. Here developed the center of the Atlantic economy due to the insatiable appetite for sugar that had grown across Europe by the late 1700s. The economic output of just Jamaica was the same as the entire 13 Colonies. The Caribbean economies depended on slave labor, trade and supplies from around the world to make sure the sugar flowed freely and tax revenues to European colonial powers were maximized. Much of that support flowed through a small Dutch island in the eastern Caribbean that few Americans know today: St. Eustatius.

      Small but Mighty

      I’m a historical archaeologist, and for eight years earlier in my career, I lived on St. Eustatius and served as island archaeologist and founding director of the St. Eustatius Center for Archaeological Research.

      Barely 8 square miles (about 21 square kilometers) in size, St. Eustatius – or as residents call it, Statia – sits to the northwest of St. Kitts and Nevis. Without this tiny island, the Continental Army might have found itself without the arms, gunpowder and the supplies it needed to survive.

      Statia Facts for Sailors from Noonsite

         

      Statia’s importance began with geography. The island rises steeply from the blue waters of the Atlantic and Caribbean. Its dormant volcano, known as the Quill, dominates the southern part of the island.

      Unlike taller Caribbean islands, Statia did not receive enough rainfall to make it especially attractive for large-scale sugar production. That made it less valuable to the great sugar powers of the 18th century, especially Britain and France.

      What Statia lacked in plantation potential, it made up for as a port. Oranje Bay, on the western side of the island, offered one of the deepest and safest nearshore anchorages in the Americas. Large merchant ships could come close to shore, unload their cargo and reload quickly.

      Along the bay stood a long, busy waterfront, lined with warehouses, shops and trading houses. By the mid-18th century, this narrow strip of shoreline had become one of the most important commercial centers in the Atlantic world.

      Imperialism Through Trade

      The Dutch had settled St. Eustatius in the 1630s, around the same time they were developing New Amsterdam, now New York City. Dutch merchants, families and investors moved through a wide Atlantic network that connected Europe, Africa, the Caribbean and North America. These commercial ties created trust, credit and opportunity across long distances.

      In the 17th and 18th centuries, European empires tried to control colonial trade through mercantilism. Colonies were expected to enrich the mother country by supplying raw materials and buying finished goods through approved channels. Taxes, tariffs and trade restrictions benefited imperial governments and favored merchants, but they raised costs for ordinary colonists, shopkeepers and planters.

      Share

      British colonists in North America often resented these restrictions, but Dutch traders were willing to help them get around them. For generations, Dutch vessels carried goods throughout the Atlantic, often selling items at lower prices than British merchants could offer legally.

      Archaeological evidence from sites such as Pope’s Creek Plantation in Virginia, the Washington family home, shows the presence of Dutch ceramics, clay pipes and yellow bricks. Even before the Revolution, Dutch trade was woven into colonial life.

      ‘Emporium of the World’

      In 1754, the Dutch West India Company petitioned the Dutch government to make Oranjestad, the capital of St. Eustatius, a free port, and the request was granted. The result was extraordinary: Goods could move through the island with few restrictions and without the heavy taxes common elsewhere. The government profited from leases on land, warehouses and homes rather than from taxing every cargo.

      Merchants from across the Atlantic world quickly took advantage. Ships arrived carrying textiles, tools, foodstuffs, weapons, luxury goods and raw materials. They also carried captive African people, forcibly transported within the transatlantic slave trade and subjected to sale, detention, labor and violence. Enslaved Africans and their descendants were essential not only to the island’s plantations, but also to the households, waterfronts, warehouses and commercial networks that made this trade possible.

      St. Eustatius became, in the words often associated with the island, “the emporium of the world.” In modern terms, it functioned like an Amazon fulfillment center for the 18th-century Atlantic. Its prosperity, however, rested in significant part on slavery and on the unequal power that enabled imperial commerce to flourish.

      Adam Smith, often called the father of economics or the father of capitalism, noticed. In his 1776 book, “The Wealth of Nations,” Smith helped define economics as a modern field of study. Although he never visited St. Eustatius, Smith discusses the island, as it offered him a living example of what freer trade could produce: prosperity, speed, variety and commercial energy.

      The same system that made the island rich also made it dangerous to imperial powers. Britain and France depended on controlled colonial trade, but St. Eustatius showed what could happen when goods moved with fewer restrictions. It also showed how merchants, credit networks and shipping families could challenge empires without firing a shot.

        a fort surrounded by palm trees and shrubs  
      Fort Oranje, from which the ‘First Salute’ was fired, still stands today. SV Zanshin via Wikimedia CommonsCC BY-NC-SA

      When the American colonies declared independence in 1776, they desperately needed military supplies. The Continental Congress knew that ideals alone would not defeat Britain. The new United States needed muskets, cannons, ammunition, uniforms, cloth, food and credit.

      St. Eustatius was perfectly positioned to provide them.

      The island’s merchants had long-standing connections with North America, and some of the American founders knew these networks well. Alexander Hamilton, who grew up in the Caribbean, spent his youth in the commercial world of shipping, accounts and credit. His family had ties to the region, and the Caribbean trade helped shape his understanding of finance and power.

      St. Eustatius soon became a lifeline for the Revolution. American agents used the island to buy and ship supplies. Cargoes moved from Europe to Statia and then onward to North America. Arms and gunpowder that might have been impossible to obtain through official channels could be purchased through this Dutch free port.

      The First Salute

      Then, in November 1776, a small but historic event took place in Oranje Bay. The Continental brigantine Andrew Doria arrived carrying a copy of the Declaration of Independence and flying the Continental Colors – the predecessor of the stars and stripes. Following maritime custom, the American vessel fired a salute. Fort Oranje answered with its own guns.

      This exchange became known as the First Salute. Many historians regard it as the first formal recognition of American independence by a foreign power. The gesture was brief, but its meaning was enormous. By returning the salute, St. Eustatius publicly acknowledged the flag and authority of the new United States.

      Britain understood the significance. The island was not merely a trading post; it was helping sustain rebellion. Over the next several years, much of the gunpowder, shot, cloth and other material that kept the American war effort alive passed through Statia’s warehouses and harbor.

      The story of St. Eustatius serves as a reminder that revolutions are not won by ideas alone. The American Revolution depended on farmers, soldiers, diplomats and political thinkers, but it also depended on merchants, sailors, warehouses and credit.

      Without St. Eustatius, without Dutch trade and without access to a free port in the Caribbean, the United States might not have survived long enough to celebrate any anniversary at all. The Revolution was a struggle for political independence, but it was also a struggle over who controlled trade. In that struggle, one tiny island helped change the course of world history.

      LOOSE CANNON covers hard news, technical issues and nautical history. Every so often he tries to be funny. Subscribe for free to support the work. If you’ve been reading for a while—and you like it—consider upgrading to paid.

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    • Out with the Seaquarium, in with the mega yachts? SunSentinel


      https://www.sun-sentinel.com/2026/07/12/out-with-the-seaquarium-in-with-the-mega-yachts-a-new-plan-for-the-old-marine-park/

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    • LTM Additions: Yesterday (Sun, Jul 12)

      5 New LTM\’s Added Yesterday

      SELECT LTM Area:

      SELECT Format:

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    • ‘He Hadn’t Lost His Mind. He’d Lost His Moon!’ – Loose Cannon

      Cruisers Net publishes Loose Cannon articles with Captain Swanson’s permission in hopes that mariners with saltwater in their veins will subscribe. $7 per month or $56 for the year; you may cancel at any time.

       
         
       
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      When all else fails, try journalism.


      ‘He Hadn’t Lost His Mind. He’d Lost His Moon!’

      Navigation at Its Most Atavistic. Not Totally Eclipsed by Electronics, Not Yet

       
       
      Guest post
       
       
       
       
       

      READ IN APP

       
         
      Diana, Huntress of the Moon, bas-relief (at left), available on eBay, at least she was.

      Besides being a regular Loose Cannon contributor, the author is a longtime professor of Psychology and Communications. She landed in Vermont in 1987 after a decade of voyaging under sail. This is an excerpt from her forthcoming memoir tentatively entitled “Jenny: A Night Sea Journey.”


      How did we get our bearings, back in the day? Back in the night, back in the dark ages before the Internet. Before there was “an app for that?”

      You kept your star charts, your local tides, your moon phases, your dawns and dusks in your mind. You tracked stuff half in your head, half in your hands, half in your heart, half up your ass, and half in pages of your notebook or in scribbled margins of reference books.

      Maybe you’re a prawn trawlerman who needs to get up and down the channels and out to the fishing grounds, mind the tides or maybe you’re a woman who needs to track your cycles. If you’re moving through unfamiliar places you are extra observant.

      When you sail out of a harbor, you take a good look back to study the way you came in at different distances, just in case you ever need to sail back in. You might hold up your thumb to make a sight by a landmark where there’s a crook in a shoal underneath. Turn here, when the treeline appears as separate dots.

      One evening, not long after the first satellite circled the earth, not long after the first black-box satnavs graced the bridges of well-equipped boats, around the time of the Challenger explosion—which rocked our worlds, and which I personally heard recounted over a scratchy radio—we were anchored on the Ningi Creek south of the Great Barrier Reef.

      Share

      Our prawn trawling friend came aboard in the dusk to swap yarns and discuss boats and generally shoot the breeze and eat up the supper I’d made. They were nattering on, not particularly interesting to me yet sort of comforting to hear their voices rambling and wrestling in a pleasantly low volume, low key, slightly competitive, brotherly kinda way. Same old stuff.

      This one piece of gear, some brand of equipment, a few fond insults exchanged in camaraderie; a particularly fond and well worn argument about preferences when it comes to this or that maneuver or bit of tackle, or a type of engine, a detail of machinery, feat of mastery, stupid mistakes, a new enthusiasm, an old disappointment, a critique of some product seen in an ad…The conversation rambles along in a kind of chummy intimacy on shiny rails like a cheerful little choo choo.

      Horns toot and brakes squeal and crossing signals dinga-dinga-ding and harmlessly power on by, and that’s a trusting friendship, amongst men. They go somewhere, do something, together. Silences and one upping, punctuated by contests. Men talking on a boat is something you appreciate like a river, but mind the rocks. Stay alongside, on the riverbank. Don’t get in the way.

      I’m bored stiff, as I’ve been pretty much solid for…years. On end.

      I quietly gather up the supper stuff and I go up on deck to wash dishes in the bucket of salt water and a dab of lemon Joy and just drag on a roll-me-own when I’m done, gazing at the Southern Cross and all the stars laid out above me, some dimmed by the orb of a fully pregnant, perfectly round moon, a vast spider’s web of lights, cast across an upturned bowl of ancient mysteries and long sent messages I only now receive.

      I think about the glimmering promises of actual ideas in life. The embers still glowing from things I’ve been reading, but nobody wants to talk about. It’s okay. I’m fine with it. I suppose “fat dumb and happy” lives right next door to contentment and what the other sibling called satisfaction. I guess it boils down to lowering your expectations, basically. I mean, what do you want? The moon?

      Our buddy is a third generation prawn trawler, son of a son of a son of shrimpers. You know the breed.

      They crank up the diesels at 3 a.m. and chug out down the channels no matter what the weather to the scent of bitter burnt coffee grounds and oily fumes of exhaust and their own body odors, while they busy the works on decks and getting all the clanking tackle ready to drag nets for the many-legged little morsels of food out of the sea, along with the occasional hideous monster of the deep that may have sharp teeth or strange poison, weird antennae or various sharpnesses, google eyes or razor fins—they drag this hidden aquatic life up in their hapless nets and never know WTF is coming up in any given catch, figuring they just gotta throw it back, if they don’t die first, and hence these particular guys are not, on the whole, that impressionable.

      Everything is just either dinner or a dollar or a good story to share a million times.

      But he’s recently deserted the boats, his life, his heritage, to get with the times, modernize, be sensible. To work in a paper factory and “get benefits.” Doing typical normal life quite well, thank you very much. Hasn’t even glanced at an almanac in ages.

      He comes up the hatch at length and at long last, a welcomed guest, welcome to go back home already. I start to get up to fetch the painter and ferry him ashore when I hear a supernatural gasp. His eyes are riveted on an empty quadrant of the night sky. He’s frozen half in and half out, crouching like a stone statue of some Neolithic hunter overwhelmed by a tusked mammoth and no weapons at hand.

      Stroke? Heart attack? UFO sighting? Stuck Chicken bone? Heimlich? Ghostbusters? Traumatic flashback?! What is happening? Is there something I need to do?

      “Moon!” he croaks.

      My god. He hasn’t lost his mind. He’s lost his moon!

      His mother, he’s lost, catapulted back, the moon who is always there—changing and waxing and waning and traveling the whole world, and sometimes beclouded or squalled from view. But he had a sky map in his fisherman head of where exactly at any moment on any night he would see her, the moon.

      This eclipse, it snuck up on him.

      I’ve heard that the last thing sailors cry out when they are drowning at sea is “mother!” Oh, mother! In every language: Mom, mama, momma, mother.

      The moon, his mother. She who did suddenly disappear, one time. It was after his dad “beat her out of the house with nothing but the clothes on her back”—a story I’d already heard boasted enough times to know that the man had wronged her

      And that neither he nor the sons, now grown men, would ever stop missing her.

      LOOSE CANNON covers hard news, technical issues and nautical history. Subscribe for free to support the work. If you’ve been reading for a while—and you like it—consider upgrading to paid.

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    • CELEBRATING THE SAVE – Janice Anne Wheeler, Sparring With Mother Nature

       
       
         
       
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      Saving history is far more consuming & complicated than I ever imagined…another week flew by. I’m so glad you took the time to open this email. Thanks!

      If you just dove into our very engaging little community, please read SPARS & SPARRING, .….it introduces my wonders and my wanders. ~J


      CELEBRATING THE SAVE

      The most impactful words I heard two years ago came from a total stranger. I’m still so glad he said them.

       
       
       
       
       

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      Our celebration July 11th really was a thank-you to a community that warmly took me in and a reunion of people the Sailor has known for decades. Regardless of unusual circumstance, these wonderful people have become my backbone, my sounding board and the nurturers of my spirit. James Jacobs, the protagonist in my latest book release made the long drive, as an added bonus to the people who bring me joy.

      In the fall of 2024 that stranger became a regular visitor, a sounding board, a storyteller, a friend who has bestowed us with unusual gifts and priceless encouragement. When he went longer than a week or two between visits we missed him and wondered about his welfare. He became a regular character as the scenes unfolded on our two-year rebuild. We finished the majority of our work, are back in the water and promptly planned our long-promised Launch Party. Unfortunately, he was not in attendance to celebrate with us.

      FROM THE ARCHIVES: August 11, 2024

      Some things are worth saving

      I heard the distinctive crunch of car on gravel, glanced up and estimated that the once-flashy-red now dull-rust-colored Mercedes parking on the lawn was only slightly younger than I am. The be-whiskered gentleman that climbed out of that vehicle was estimated to be a few decades years older; he always leaves the driver’s side door open. Always. I’ve wanted to ask, but decided against it.

      The stranger walked over purposefully and simply stood, stock still, gazing up at STEADFAST for long, long minutes. In my mind she isn’t all that pretty at this particular juncture, hauled out of her natural element for repairs, holes for projects begun here and there, original materials showing some age. She does make an impression regardless, I have to say that much. Our scaffold isn’t tall enough to reach the top rail or long enough to encompass her 56 feet. When he glanced at me I raised my eyebrows in a silent ‘Can I help you?’ but received no response. We are on the fringes of the Richardson Maritime Museum here in Cambridge, Maryland, but we aren’t part of it. We’re not ready for that, yet.

      Arms folded, he stepped closer and without preamble or introduction asked where STEADFAST was built. Wheeler Shipyard in Brooklyn, we told him as we worked, and he raised his eyebrows in turn. For the first time, someone we met had local knowledge of the place, which he spewed with no further encouragement, slowly edging his way into our space, inspecting as he went, murmuring unasked and unanswered questions.

      “Crazy old coot, that’s the fourth one this week,” my Sailor said to me. We smiled at each other. It is rewarding, and heartening, to have people understand instead of just thinking we were crazy. (Which we are, make no mistake.) I tried to properly convey that phenomenon here:

      The gentleman meandered along on his own tour, stepping and then backing up, taking in the topside teak and rig. Unable to resist, I toddled after him, volunteering random answers to common questions. Each time, he put his hand up to his ear and indicated that he hadn’t heard, so each time I repeated myself, a little louder, not sure if he was interested in the facts that I was spewing, un-encouraged. It reminded me of Waterman Johnny Kinnamon, in fact, his story is here. He told me once that if he always wanted to hear what folks were saying, he’d put his hearing aids in. But he doesn’t. He sits in church beside me and appears to listen attentively. At first I commented occasionally (to no avail) and he finally said to me, “I can’t hear any of this.” Now I sit quietly, too, appreciating the simplicity of not trying to make conversation. Johnny is 87 and chooses carefully who he spends his time and energy on.

      “Who are you?” I inquired. “Who am I?” he repeated, laughing. “Who am I. Well, I’ve been around these places my whole life. I’ve seen people working on boats and fixing them and most of them weren’t worth fixing.” He shook his head at the world. “But this girl, she’s worth saving.” My appreciation of his words was so vast that I said nothing at all.

      Unfortunately, we had somewhere to be when that stranger showed up; we were already hot and tired of trying to put the puzzle pieces of our quickly changed life together while making sure we had all the ones we needed. We definitely don’t. There was no plan to be where we are.

      Our appointment was ticking closer. The stranger and I made it to the bow, where we had discovered Mother Nature had endowed STEADFAST’s stem with an insidious rot not detectable from the outside or the inside. We are still assessing, peeling back the layers. She’ll need rare, expensive materials and even rarer expertise. These are some of the puzzle pieces I refer to, the elements to bring our home back to where she needs to be. We are in a new town, a new boatyard, living on land. It’s an uncomfortable place, depending on others when we are used to being both independent and fully mobile.

         
      Peeling the layers. It seems to take just as long to disassemble as it does to build. We unexpectedly get to experience both….

      I apologized and invited him to come back anytime. I had to repeat myself, and it was priceless. “She’s worth it,” he called after me. “This is a special boat.”

      I stopped in my tracks, because that’s what we say, too, when we are trying to explain THE WOODEN BOAT PHENOMENON. “I hope I won’t be a pest. I’ll be back.” I smiled at him then, this stranger who had encouraged me more than he would ever know.

      “Crazy old coot,” the sailor commented redundantly. “Crazy old coot knows his boats.” I said as we got into the seen-better-days boatyard loaner car, and I smiled again. SOME THINGS AREN’T WORTH SAVING. And some things are.

      The choices are rarely easy. Until next week, may your choices be simpler (mine, too!). ~J


      Are you skeptical? Hope not. My sixth (or is it seventh?) sense this waiting to see how it all transpires.

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      Share SPARRING WITH MOTHER NATURE

      SPARRING WITH MOTHER NATURE has become my favorite routine! Over the course of the week I consider what happened that can offer some commentary on life and the NATURE of it. This story just jumped out at me. If you are enjoying these, consider upgrading to a paid subscription just as you would a magazine that you have forever been skimming in the grocery story line and then you finally buy one! Or not. Either way is perfectly fine with me, honestly! I enjoy and read and respond to all comments so spew those thoughts!

      My weekly Sunrise shot! The Osprey on the Chesapeake Bay are in a wonderful cycle of recovery. I share sunrise daily on our Facebook Page YACHTING STEADFAST, please join us!

      My boatyard neighbor had a freshly built little wooden sloop and oh how I lusted after that beauty. There’s something inherently more beautiful about boats that originate in a forest rather than an oil well.

      As you say, some things are not worth saving, like a big wooden trawler that sank one weekend on the Eastern Shore in the slip next to us. It was memorably sad. They used an excavator to remove her from the water and load her into dumpsters.

      Have you ever caught a glimpse from Key Bridge (RIP) of the Baltimore Clipper hulls that were burned to the water line, sank, and are visible during low tides? Or the wooden merchant marine hulls in that big marsh at the southern tip of MD? During WWII, someone decided that it was a good idea to build a bunch of cargo ships from wood, but the war ended so they towed the unfinished ships to the marsh to rot away.

         

      Until next time, it’s stormy and oppressive here, with low leaden skies but nothing quelled our launch party. IT WAS WONDERFUL to have so many folks from so many walks of life join us in our joy. I’m grateful for that, and also the adrenaline that has flowed since I sat down to write this, just after the witching hour, to make sure it gets to you and we have our weekly hoo-doo. ~J

      Share SPARRING WITH MOTHER NATURE

      Message Janice Anne Wheeler

         
      Ah, dragonflies. Save them every chance you get.

      RESTACK please. Thanks.

       

      I so appreciate your support of my work. Have a wonderful week!

         
       
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      © 2026 Janice Anne Wheeler
      Living aboard Sailing Yacht STEADFAST again soon!
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    • Free Pump Out Service – Indian River County


      Thanks to Keith Drewett for informing us of this new service:

      FREE PUMP OUT SERVICE is now available to all vessels anchored or docked in Indian River County, Florida.

      Sebastian River to Little Round Island.

      Call: 772-268-3189

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