JOHN & AMY HANZL

Catch up with John & Amy aboard Sequel in the present day. "Yes indeed, there is life after the ICW. As almost a full year has passed since our 25 day voyage, I can attest to that fact first-hand. And I’ve been itching to share them with whomever I can."

It’s been an honest pleasure for me – and I know the same resonates true for Amy – sharing our experiences on Sequel with all of you. Till some time in the future… Thank you!

Technically, the bitter end is the part of a rope that’s tied off. And from that definition has sprung more dire meanings. But for Amy and I, its meaning is something else altogether.

Arthur is heading our way as we're anchored in Connecticut, which leaves us to play a game of "find the boat hidden in the storm radar."

On their way from Sag Harbor, New York, to coastal Connecticut, John and Amy endure a day-long visit from Foghorn Leghorn.

I opted to delay my post of Sag Harbor for a day because I wanted to relate my trials and tribulations with the mooring ball at Oyster Bay. But that’s behind us, we’re at a mooring in Sag Harbor in the Hamptons.

We love a good mooring, especially when they offer a (thought sleep-depraved) lesseon in humility. Behold, dear readers, the tale of John versus the mooring ball.

We’re sitting on the bow at our mooring, drinking a glass of wine and watching the dazzling array of watercraft pass. Sometime you have to stop and smell the roses.

Everything was looking good as we left the protected harbor of Deltaville and turned north. Unfortunately mother nature had other plans. For those who’ve never been on the Chesapeake, it’s big. Really big.

Sequel and her crew run across the Alligator River and into the Dismal Swamp; facing waters as smooth as glass and the ever looming threat of running out of wine.

It’s going to be a short one today – since it’s been a rather long one today. Ten hours running the boat, much of it through small rivers, inlets, and canals lined with docks.

In a video heavy update, the Hanzls accomplish their longest transit to date, 128 nm, stopping at the little known Leland Oil in McClellanville, South Carolina. But not after a karmatic event brings a tug to a screeching halt.

Amy is sorta planning the next two days, although she just said, “They don’t accept transient lips for more that ten days”. Perhaps I made the margaritas too strong.