Our return to Florida was punctuated by a train horn that Janet heard, and I mistook for the whine of truck tires on the hi-rise bridge we were approaching. Then as we were five boat lengths from the Kingsley Creek swing bridge (which means we were in plain sight) it began to close in front of us. No whistle, no lights, no nothing — been that way for years. This is an “always open” bridge — unless a train is approaching, something that has never happened to us here even counting 1980!
We whipped into a tight turn in the narrow water way and waited for the train to cross. It was short. Maybe a dozen graffiti-garnished cars. After it had passed, we heard what sounded like a duck kazoo brazzing from the direction of the bridge house, and the bridge began to open. We waved to the bridge attendant (who had driven out in a pickup to operate the bridge). He looked like he was anticipating a different kind of wave.
The run down to the St. John’s was uneventful and impassible in a couple of spots had we not had high tide. Just before we entered Nassau Sound, the wind was gusting 30 kts, then it dropped suddenly, and we saw little more the 15 for the rest of the day. Of course the Sister’s Creek Bridge Tender continues to be one of the three nicest one’s we’ve encountered on the ICW, and his timing is impeccable! The St. John’s was as near slack water as we’ve ever seen it, but it was still an ebb that pushed one toward the rock jetties on the south side.