Meandering Thoughts

It occurred to me while watching the sunset that this place, or for that matter all the anchorages or harbors from which we have witnessed such sunsets, represents about the best place to watch sunsets.  It is as though we are sitting under a picnic cover in the world's best location looking at the day turn into nights.  Bear is getting over her grunge but slowly so we do not know if we will leave this place tomorrow.  Having no schedule allows such freedom.  I am thankful that she is recovering but question the symptoms.  So be it.

This is the vessel, not sure if sailing or just power, Freddy Freddy.  The forward part is about 20 feet abeam and the aft part is about 13 abeam.  The part where it makes the transition is at the end of the tanbark colored stripe at the wheel house.  There is on transome structure at that point, just open scoop.

Today was one of boat maintenance.  I polished stainless steel, which by the way is not.. I tested many concoctions to see which would remove the "grin" on the bow that the tannin laced waters of the ICW left.  Most did not work but the last one in inventory did.  Kaboom is my new friend.  Bear spent the whole day attempting to get over the grunge.  I spent the whole day making Why Knot prettier and re-provisioning.  Found a restaurant with a dinghy dock that would, if I ordered something, let me tie up long enough to go to the nearby grocery store. I did not have a list so we now have enough tangerines to support the fleet. Given that, it was good to get more bagels and Fritoes for the bean dip and pot pie night at sea.  Dang, that is actually starting to be something I look forward to.

Tonight, we sleep.  Tomorrow, if Bear is well, we sail

Update 4/30/10- We decided to give it another day here for additional maintenance and recovery.  Besides that, a cruiser friend suggested that in these waters, one really should be someplace by noon on Friday and depart Monday so as to minimize the potential for some high speed moron to do damage (no offense to morons). We are debating whether or not to bite the bullet and skip Marco Island to do the direct passage to Key West, a distance of 134 nautical miles.  It would take a good weather window and serious enthusiasm on the part of the crew.  Who knows, we might just do it----or not.

Down Day

sign at Cabbage Key

Every now and then the crew hits a spot where we must stay for an extra period.  Today is one of them due to the Bear having some grunge of some type.  This is protected water, fairly smooth and a good spot to ride out the situation.  I will be working on boat maintenance such as that pesky rust spot on the transome.  I might install new hailing port letters on the transome which confirm to the Coast Guard requirements for the size of "Port Aransas, TX".  The second line might not conform but we'll see if we get into trouble.  It reads, in much smaller letters, "Texas, The Republic Of". 

Bonita Bills

Some years ago, Ft. Meyers converted what was a very nice free anchorage to the mooring field for which they charge a nominal fee.  That did two things: produced income for the city and it forced the derelict boats away from the area.  Any time there is free anchorage near town, it has it's share of folks who move aboard a boat with no intention of ever moving them or maintaing them.  From what I can tell, the derelict boats have moved back into the mangroves and there are several dozen of them.  Some have not seen a human for years.  Some are works in progress such as the three boat raftup that is firmly laced into the mangroves with a deck built over all three hulls.  Someone lives aboard without electricity and other conveniences, but he cannot be seen from the high rise condos. 

small ferry across the ditch

The local hang out is a place where folks gather all hours of the day to mostly drink although the food is good.  We were at the place for a burger yesterday around noon when several of them were heading for the fourty bottle limit to ease the pain from the night before.  I am thinking that is the best they will feel all day. 

So this is alligator and manatee country?  We have yet to see either.  Even yesterday when I took the dink looking for some, no joy.  I think it is a Florida hoax to keep the speed down in the mangroves. 

Tomorrow, if Bear is feeling better, we will head down to Marco Island for a day or two then on to Key West.

Venice, Cabbage Key, Fort Myers Beach

The trip from Venice to Fort Myers Beach has been a good experience for the crew of Why Knot. It took us away from the internet but through some of the most scenic waterway we have encountered thus far. We left Venice the day before yesterday( but only after I had a long missed cheeseburger) and decided to stay inside and see some of the ditch again. Our concerns included five bridges. Most of them open on a schedule and none were tall enough for us to pass. We arrived at the first, just after leaving the dock, just two minutes late for the opening. We cooled our heels for another twenty minutes for the next opening. The thing that became apparent was that the bridge tenders were professional, mission oriented punctual. This was a drastic difference to the attitudes we witnessed in Louisiana. The tenders would take the vessel name and type then transmit it to the next bridge down the line. They gave us the next bridge name so we did not have to guess. In Louisiana they would not answer even if you were looking at them, if you did not get the bridge name just right. Traffic in the ditch was lively. At one point we had nine high speed large boats passing us from astern. They were all courteous and went to slow bell as they passed. We later encountered a total bonehead that passed us very close by at about thirty knots and nearly turtled our dink. 

The trip down the ditch from Venice to Ft. Myers Beach is about sixty five nautical miles and we did it in two segments. Our first night found us in the vicinity of Cabbage Key, a popular little, quaint key that has a few rental cottages, a famous pub and restaurant and one heck of a history. It started as a stopover for Tarpon fishermen in the early twentieth century. One is reminded of the pub in Bimini where Ernest Hemingway stopped for a beer or two. The folks then started the tradition of hanging a dollar bill on the wall upon which they wrote their name. That way, the bar tender would hold a cold beer for them when they came by. That tradition is still in place. We placed a dollar on the wall with s/v Why Knot of Port Aransas, Tx, came this way on 4/26/2010. The bar keep told us that our dollar made well over one hundred thousand dollars hanging on the wall. If a buck falls off that wall, they donate it to a local charity. They told us that they give over fifteen thousand dollars a year to charity. I always heard it is illegal to deface currency and they said that ever since a past Secretary of the Treasury did it, they have a bye from the Treasury. I can’t confirm that but it sounded good.

docks at Cabbage Key

Cabbage Key is a snapshot from the twenties. Ducks and tortoises play in the heavy mangroves. We were told that the no seeums would leave us alone given the wind. Dinner was grand and not expensive. In fact, I have overdosed on seafood and tried the lemon chicken. It was without doubt the second best chicken I have ever had (second only to Bear’s preparation). Just as we were dropping dock lines, the crew of Guiding Light, a Lagoon catamaran, came by. We met him in New Orleans. Along the way, we see boats we have met elsewhere. It is fun to see them again.

We left Cabbage Key yesterday around 1100 after a conversation with Guiding Light crew. The run across Pine Island Sound was a good one and most of the power boaters were courteous. We sailed past places with pretty names such as Cayo Costa, Charlotte Harbor and Sanibel Island. As we approached Fort Myers we saw narrow channels, many boats and several very pretty sail boats underway. We ducked out into the Gulf and back in behind Estero Island into Matanzas Pass. The goal was to use one of the mooring buoys just inside the pass. It was out first mooring buoy grab and it went very well in heavy current and opposing wind. Bear steered us into position and we got it on our second try. Not more than two minutes later, the Harbor Master came by and asked us to register. So, the dink was required to get to shore and register. The dinghy dock was a bit of a challenge because of the number of boats tied up there. There is a local boat called Freddy Freddy whose skipper just barged in with his wooden dink and nosed in between other boats without regard for possible damage. I guess that is the way it is done. We will observe local customs for further guidance as to how one gets to a dink dock if it is crowded.

Dinner ashore last night was at a place called Bonita Bill where locals hang out. It was quite a place. Locals do hang out there and some of them are “colorful”. The sign over the bar reads “40 beer limit strictly enforced”. Methinks some of the locals, even at 1700 were approaching the limit. Bear had more seafood and I had to have something different. I am seafooded out for a bit. We dinked back to the boat a few minutes before the sunset/moon rise. What an evening it was watching the mooring field settle in. Dinks of all sorts were returning to the mother ship. I am surprised that some could find their boats save the bright moonlight. It reminded me of the time several Port A boats anchored behind Mud Island. One boat hosted the sundowner and some stayed late. Some forgot to turn on their anchor light thus making the trip in the dark to a dark boat a bit of a challenge. One fellow rowed to the gathering and had to meander around in the dark to find his dark boat. Ever since, we keep a light on even in the mooring field. Yesterday was a rip snorter of a day in the mooring field. Heavy current opposing moderate winds made the night a roller. We like rollers to some degree since the motion of the boat makes for a great night sleep.

Our next port will most likely be Naples (nawh not that Naples). Then we will cross to Key West. We expect that we may be there by the weekend----- or not.

Going Ashore in Venice

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Yesterday was an active day on the waters around this marina. As the outlet to the sea and the intersection of the ICW, boats were everywhere. The little island is known as Snake Island but we doubt that snakes live there. Being only about a quarter acre, it is the focal point for many boaters to swim and camp. Bear and I took the dink up and down the ICW just amazed at the development along the waterway. It is the opposite of the GIWW in Texas.

It was fun to see the different types of boats. Boaters are, for the most part, considerate of others but every once in a while there is some knucklehead that has to demonstrate disdain for the rules. We guessed that is why the Sheriff patrols the area all day long. The jetties are occupied with hundreds of fishing fans and because they are only about a hundred and fifty yards apart it resembles a city street during a parade.

We took a taxi to the local grocery store yesterday and did some tourism stuff afoot. Venice was designed from scratch by architects who envisioned a master plan around a long green way from the sea to the inland water some two miles away. The downtown is preserved as it was in the turn of the century, the last century. It is an assemblage of stucco stores that would have been inspiration for some Norman Rockwell scene. One old hotel has a barber shop no longer in operation but it has manikins in the barber chairs with the wraps used to keep the hair out of one’s shirt. They are posed so as to wave to the passerby. We definitely get the feeling here that we are youngsters in this community.

Evenings in a marina are always different. Just after dark last evening, Bear was already in the rack when I saw a woman on the jetty just beyond the fence of the marina. We had the sun screen zipped on the back of the bimini so she did not see me sitting in the cockpit. She took individual flowers from a bouquet she held and one by one tossed them into the outgoing tide. She paused between each toss and sobbed a bit. When done she sit back down for a few minutes. After a few minutes, she saw me and we spoke. She was saying bye to a nephew who was killed recently. It was a touching moment.

We have enjoyed this marina but we will leave it tomorrow. We are planning to do a short hop down the ICW, if for no other reason just to see the communities along the ditch. There are only a few bridges along the way and we need some bridge work in preparation for the east coast of Florida. We think we will make Key West by the end of next week and we are looking forward to a few days there and to visiting with Salty Sailors.

This is Pep-E who lives in front of the Crow's Nest Marina office.  He is an Amazon Blue Front Parrot that was born in 1986.  He can live over 100 years according to the sign on his cage.  He questioned me for several minutes before dismissing me by saying "Good Bye"

Today, we plan to do more exploration by dink. Rumba Line came through the jetties late yesterday. He ran aground just as we established radio communications. “Gotta go.” He said. “Am aground”. He has a small dog that won’t use facilities on the boat so his schedule is somewhat determined by the pooch urges. So it goes in the shallows of Florida.

Venice

Bruno

We weighed the anchor at 0730 yesterday bound for Venice, Florida.  The winds were very light and from the wrong direction as usual, so our actual sailing time was only an hour or so.  Underway, we dodged crab pots by the hundreds even 4 miles offshore.  The waters around this part of the west coast of Florida, even miles from shore are less than fifty feet deep.  The color is amazing and the clarity continues to improve with each mile we put under the keel going south.  Around 1130 we were about five miles off shore when a large brown, hawk looking bird circled the boat once then landed on some dock lines in the liferaft cradle.  He stayed there looking forward for the whole trip to Venice.   He would not look back at us and was completely unafraid of me when I stuck my head around the dodger to get a picture of him.  I hope he was just resting and not on his final approach to the hereafter.  What a pretty bird.  We have never seen one like him before.  We named him Bruno since he looked like he might be a bit of a bully to other birds even twice his size.  Bruno is the third bird to sign on.  Each has given us a bit of joy and certainly something to discuss other than crab pots.  As we were getting ready for docking I needed the dock line Bruno owned.  I literally had to push him off the dock line and wondered if he was about to attack me as he reluctantly moved then flew.  Good luck Bruno.  By the way, your pay is docked. 

We arrived at what turned out to be a very nice location, the Crow's Nest Marina in Venice just inside the jetties.  We can see the intersection of the GIWW (the one that started in Tarpon Springs heading south) and the channel from sea.  What a great place for people watching.  We plan to stay here for two more nights and just watch the boats and the folks. 

Egmont Key- Tampa Bay

4/21/10

 Sunrist Egmont Key s/v Rumba Line

We left Clearwater Marina this morning at 0925 heading to an offshore sail to Egmont Key.  This Key is the westernmost boundary of Tampa Bay.  We decided to do this short run offshore so as to stay out of the Intracoastal.  There are several bridges which do not open on request but rather a schedule and while we know that sooner or later we will have to deal with bridges on schedules, we like offshore far more.  The only thing that distracts somewhat in this area is the crab pot situation.  One cannot just activate the autopilot and ignore it.  We are told that sailboats are somewhat less susceptible to them since we have a keel to help protect the prop.  Then again who would not want to deal with them unless necessary.  We plan to spend two nights in this place so as to allow us to dink ashore and explore this historic Key.  I did notice that there were two large gun batteries guarding the approach to Tampa Bay.   Gee, might they be part of the Third System?  Old Bligh will definitely explore them tomorrow. 

We were relieved today when we spoke to our friends on Lagniappe with whom we have not spoken for several days (or is it weeks?).  They are fine and are approaching Titusville, Florida today.  They have made good progress since our last conversation. 

4/22/10

 Battery Mallory, Fort Dade

Bear doing what Bear does while I explore old military forts

First thing today, we launched the dink and after Bear made the sandwiches for a walk ashore, she felt the ocean swell and had a wee bit of mal de mer.  She elected to stay aboard and run my rump off so at not to bugg her.  I made a bee line to the old Fort Dade and the lighthouse that has protected the Tampa Bay approach since the late 1800’s.  It was a treat,  I must admit , to be walking in an old military post long ago built to protect this area during the Spanish American war and later to deploy mines to protect Tampa Bay during WWII.  What a wonderful place for a history freak.  The paved roads that once connected the garrison with the shore batteries is still there.   Most of the batteries are there too.   I spent about an hour ashore and returned to Why Knot to find Bear back to sparring strength.  We managed some long naps before boarding the tender and returning to the lighthouse area.  This is Bear’s first approach to any landmass aboard our dink.  We just took it easy so as not to chip any teeth in the rolling waters approaching Fort Dade.  Two historical things about this place:  a lighthouse that is still in service after 150 years and the old Fort.  She was not impressed much with the idea of walking the old batteries but was impressed with the beaches and the tortoises running amuck near the light house. I was impressed at the National Cemetery on the Key.  This is a place of great history and a real treat for us.  Tomorrow, we sail on the tide for Venice for a day or two, thence to Fort Meyer.  That will be our jumping off point to Key West.  The overall plan is to spend a week in Key West and then the milestone is to turn up the Atlantic Coast.  There are many stops we can make here on the west coast of Florida, we have a bit of a drive to get to the Atlantic.

 Why Knot tugging at the anchor

Goodbye Clearwater

We have enjoyed the Municipal Marina in Clearwater, particularly the transient dock with the Ft. Meyer group heading north.  They were most concerned about the dock bolts I mentioned to them at the City Marina in Tarpon Springs.  You see, they all have large, really expensive looking trawlers and those bolts might just scratch their sweeties.  If one were more of a jokester, one could really have fun with groups seeking "local knowledge".  Then again, there is honor in the system that prevents telling someone about some unexploded ordinance in their anchorage.

We launched the dink for the first time yesterday and ran around the area looking at boats.  One boat had an interesting foredeck addition: a recliner/rocker.  It was sitting forward of the mast and appeared to be quite suitable for sunset watching.  The red pirate boat comes by the transient docks several times a day.  Before getting back to dock, withing a few yards of the same place, their loud speaker is playing "Who let the dogs out? Umh! Umh!" The whole dock gets into that when they pass.  Sort of funny looking at old cruisers dancing around singing that.  Must have something to do with the adult beverages being consumed.  Of course Bear and I do not participate.

The latest foredeck addition

Bear and I were at dinner last evening enjoying a nice meal when a group of five adults and at least eight youngsters were seated next to us.  They were from New York and loudly let everyone in the dining room know it.  The kids were most obnoxious as was the mom who kept yelling loud enough for everyone to hear.  Great thinks I but Bear and I were determined to enjoy the food.  In a few minutes a thirty something jerk yelled at me from the table.  "What's you problem old man?".  Ignoring him, he did it again only louder.  My response was to suggest he accomplish something anatomically impossible to which he got even louder.  The oldest fellow moved the thirty something away from me and for some reason the kids got quieter.  Then the fellow admitted the group had been in the booze all day and apologized.  Gee, did they think were were enjoying their presence?  Anyway, that was last night.

 Kiosks for charter boats

Today, we plan to sail to Egmont Key.  It is southwest of Tampa Bay.  That means that we are skipping the Bay area altogether.  We want to anchor out for a couple of days if the weather allows us to stay in the anchorage.  The determining factor is wind.  If it comes around to the east, that would put us on the windward shore.  Forecast calls for W and NW winds.  We'll see.  Most likely, there will be poor signal strength there so we may not post for a couple of days.

We saw a boat approaching the marina late yesterday that looked familiar.  It was a boat that was in Port Saint Joe for over six months.  The locals there said it was berthed there and based on observations would most likely make PSJ their permanent home. They docked just across from us and told us that they set sail from Apalachicola some thirty six hours earlier.  Having found no wind of any use, they motored the entire time.  When they arrived, they were ready for showers and a long nights sleep.  We know that feeling.

Greece to Tampa

 downtown Tarpon Springs sponge dock

We left Tarpon Springs yesterday around 1100 for the short sail to Clearwater.  It is as though we left Greece when we pulled away from the sponge docks of Tarpon Springs.  Having spent two days at the dilapidated docks at City Marina, with those bolts that really wanted to scratch Why Knot, I constantly improved her chances of survival.  So, on the scenic trip down the Anclote river, I was busy at least half of the time stowing six fenders, two fender boards and at least ten miles of lines used in the protection scheme.  By the time I got all that done, Bear had managed to maneuver the boat nicely down the Agean Sea to Anclote river.  We had six knots of wind, this time from the right direction for a casual sail some twelve nautical away.  We decided to take our time since it was the first day since beginning the cruise that we could sit comfortably in shorts and tees.  That's right, the first time at sea in shorts. 

 sponge boat

We hugged the four fathom line on the way down but that was a couple of miles offshore.  Seas were flat and that allowed us to spot the endless  array of crab pots.  I wonder where all those crabs go?  Certainly, we do not see crab on menus. 

 these guys literally sailed circles around us

We decided to stay at the City Marina next to Pier 60.  Said location holds a sundown celebration every day similar to Mallory Square in Key West.  Vendors magically appear as do musicians on the pier every day.  This marina is completely full.  We got the last slip for the day.  We are the only sail boat on the transient docks.  The trawlers around us are part of a yacht club from Fort Meyers that takes long trips each month. 

We have sailed away from those we met in Apalachicola and we have lost contact with Lagniappe.  We hope they did not abandon their plans.  It has been fun to stay in touch with folks we have met.  The folks next to us in Tarpon Springs are heading up stream to Iowa via several rivers including the ole Miss. 

Pier 60 Clearwater, Florida

We awoke today to fog and some really weird moaning sound we could hear through the hull.  I wonder if we are listening to Manatee.  We have not seen one yet but there are warnings everywhere about avoiding them.  We will stop here another day at least to do some repairs (read West Marine). 

The shuttle just landed.  There are only three missions left.  I cannot help but remember how futuristic it sounded when the news first announced plans to build and deploy a re-usable space machine.  Wow!  Where did the years go?

26 Hours At Sea

A different kind of spotted dolphin

Ok, I will admit it. There was a time when the Bear and I would plan an overnighter for a few days then just do it. We knew that it would be a long day when the winds were forecast to be east at 10 to 15 knots dropping after midnight to 5 knots. Thursday, Bear and I staged Why Knot to Dog Island to save a few miles on our departure. At 0755 Friday, we had WK ready and we hauled up the anchor bound for Tarpon Springs to the south of us some 140 nautical miles. We made the sea buoy just south of Carrabelle by 0955 where we encountered a lively East breeze.  We turned off the engine and enjoyed a beating such that we have not had in some time.  Said beating was in good seas of about five to six feet in threes (they came three at a time about 4 seconds apart).  We were rocking an rolling.  Even Bear started to feel the effects of having to make a trip below.  I can always tell, even if she denies it, when she is not enjoying the present.   There is a sparkle in her eyes that gives away her physical and mental state.  That sparkle was only a dim glow as she emerged from below.  Instantly, seeing the horizon, that sparkle got brighter and in a half an hour, she had her head down in a book.  Later on that day, the book went overboard as she admitted it was a lousy book (my words, not hers). 

sunset on the Gulf

The winds dropped dramatically over the next hour and by 1100 it was right on the nose, what there was of it.  Sails down, engine on.  At at whopping 2.8 knots under sail, it would have taken two days to get to Tarpon Springs.  We turned the engine off and set sail three more times during the day.  Finally, we decided that the wind gods went elsewhere to harass some other crew.  By 1735, it was dead calm.


We stowed the sails and started the engning which we used for the next 100 nautical miles.  It was boring and noisy.  Sailors like the sound of the water and the sails, not a small, red, 42 horsepower diesel grunting and groaning below while vibrating the boat.  However; in this case, it was good to have old weezer.
 
I don't recall having our usual bean dip and chicken pot pie dinner underway that night.  Methinks it was crackers, nuts and Red Bull.  Not sure since the crew settled into a sort of trance for the long night ahead.  Flying fish were starting to show up as the brown water of St. Georges Sound gave way to the clear emerald wasters of the Gulf.   Nightfall settled in on Why Knot and we had everything in place for the night.  The ditch bag with EPIRB was sitting in the ready position and the radar was up.  All the instruments were in night mode, meaning low light with wierd reverse colors.  No moon made those lights too bright.  I switched to the masthead tri-color nav light so I could not see them at the helm.  We were humming and as always, I was listening for something to break. 
 
With little do do for the next twenty or so hours, Bear and I decided to suspend the watch system and spell each other on need.  As it turned out, I did not call for a watch change until 0300 or so but that was a waste.  I could not sleep.  Had this been another day or so on an offshore passage, that would not be a problem.  Bear later admitted that she did not sleep either. 

sunrise off Anclote Key- starting to look the same as sunrises, huh?

 
We reached the sea buoy off Tarpon Springs just before sunrise.  That was according to plan.  What was not according to plan was, as the guide books say: "the minefield of crab pots".  I saw the first some five miles offshore in fourty feet of water.  I saw it during that time of the long watch one is prone to hallucinate, which I was.  At first, all the trees and sea deamons obscured that pot.  Then the brain said, dummy, wake up.  You know what that was.  A quick search of the area revealed that we were in a string of them.  One does not want to have to deal with the float line wrapped around the old prop shaft, especially at that time of day.  We did not see any more for about two minutes then we had some, but not enough light to charge into the area.  Dead slow until daylight was the decision.  Awh heck, that added another two hours to the effort which delayed the intense desire to tie off and sleep somewhere.

Anclote river to Tarpon Springs

 
Once into the Anclote River, we noticed that even "no wake" zones have little meaning to some folks here.  "Hey George, see that slow sail boat from Texas? Let's see if we can throw them a wake they will never forget and maybe toss them into a day mark." "Got 'em.  Did you see that old dude at the wheel spill coffee all over the cockpit".  The river travels about five miles to the town of Tarpon Springs.  It is a nice chance to see many marinas and boats.  It is narrow in spots and as luck would have it, the right spot for some nucklehead to get the sailboat.  Those who know me might think I responded with gestures or radio calls to the offending boat.  We did not because we were too tired and it would have had no effect.  Several before us have mentioned this little quirk about some Floridian power boaters (emphasis on some since it takes only one to spill the coffee).
 
Having called ahead, we had a reservation with a certain marina who assured us that they had enough depth for our approach, we should have know somehting might not be exactly right.  They said, proceed toward the center span of the bridge you cannot get under (first clue).  Stay in the exact center of the channel until you get abeam of the old trawler that is on stand just the other side of the canal from us (second clue).  Go well past the green day marker on our side before you make the turn (third clue).  Don't cut the corner.  We will be on dock to catch your lines.  I have to say that WK's bulb keel and I have worked out a method to unstick us from the bottom, which has been successful so far.  While Bear stood on the bow with lines in hand, I worked on perfecting the technique five times.  She looked around and said that we might stop playing in the mud and go somewhere else.  That sparkle I spoke of earlier started to turn into a sort of lazer type stare from the foredeck.  I was tired but not tired enough to keep playing in the mud.

tied up and ready for sleep

 
We settled into the City Marina which turned out to be a good thing. We are in the middle of the Greek Historical District.  This town was founded on the sponge industry and still exploits that today.  On top of that, there is a festival all weekend.  We attempted to sleep yesterday but that did not happen until early evening.  We had to stay awake and guard WK from other boats arriving to these very narrow slips.   We did have some libations ashore last evening but will save that for tonight.  By 0600 this morning, we made up for the sleep deprivation of Friday/Saturday.  Now we are dealing with the soreness of wobbling back and forth for 26 hours at sea. Sunday, ah a good day to sleep with rain hitting the deck above.

Leaving Dog Island

It is 0600 Eastern time and I am awake. Bear is still deep in sleep. It is the day we set sail for Tarpon Springs, and it will be over 24 hours before we get there. Motor vessel (MV) Puzzle, with whom we have spent two nights in this anchorage is leaving very soon for Steinhatchee in the Big Bend. Our course will take us ninety degrees south of that. Their lights are on and methinks they are having breakfast and laying in waypoints for their voyage. As I stumbled topside in the dark, two things stand out in the calm night air; there are brilliant lights ashore some five miles distant and I am looking at the Big Dipper and the North Star in the clear night sky. The North Star is in the same position it is when we stand on our porch at home. Same elevation, same orientation. For a moment, we are home, back in the sweet arms of Texas. Nawh, we are at anchor in this fantastic place. The winds are calm which for an anchorage is nice but for a passage is not what we hoped for. We would like to see fifteen knots, in this case from the north east. Maybe it will happen as forecast. Maybe not. Our anchor will be up in a few hours and we will see.

Quiet Day Planning Next Overnighter

Motoring dead into the wind on St. Georges Sound

The day started with the crew almost being ejected from the rack due to great movement in the anchorage.  As it sometimes happens, the winds came from a different direction of that forecast.  It still came from the island behind which we are anchored, but sometime during the night the waves found a way to reach around the island and get us.  It was lively for most of the early morning.  Today, we decided that given the forecast, if it is to be trusted, we will make the long crossing that takes us past the Big Bend.  We will saill tomorrow around 1000 hours for Anclote.  This is the entrance to the Anclote River and to Tarpon Springs, our destination.  For the rest of the day, we will make her ready for the Gulf.  We set up all the deck gear including jack lines, teathers etc.  This time we will stage the ditch bag where we can get it if needed since we will be well offshore this time.  It appears we will have about 140 nautical miles in the effort.  That means a passage time from 20 hours and more depending on wind.  The idea it to arrive at the sea buoy around sunrise or later but well before sunset.  Get the idea?  There are many variables which affect boat speed, thus arrival time.  If things don't go bump in the night, we roughly plan a 24 hour effort which requires the crew to take long naps once we are tied up on the other end.  So. this will be our last post until Sunday, most likely. 

No Crocks, Oysters and Cooper's Island

Gulf County Channel to GIWW

We slipped our dock lines at Port Saint Joe yesterday at 0830 and headed into Gulf County Channel which took us back to the GIWW.  Our destination was Aplachicola for an early tie off.  The trip was magnificent in a part of the GIWW that was mostly swamp.  The charts termed it impenatrible swamp.  Trees lined most of the trip and although the wind was always on the nose, we made good time.  In the middle of Lake Wimico, we spotted a small, and I do mean small island.  It could not have been more than twenty yards by ten yards.  We dubbed it Cooper's Island since no reference to an island name is on the charts.  Along the way, we expected to see our first gators.  There were none to be seen but a boat that tied up next to us that night said they saw one eyeballing their little dog. 

I Dub Thee Cooper's Island

We made it to Aplachicola by 1605 hours and found a spot next to a restaurant on Scipio Creek.  The restaurant, we later learned, is a local favorite and the local specialty is oysters.  The oysters from this area are considered amoung the best in the US. I hate oysters other than fried but had to at least give them a try.  I now like oysters.  Dang, what I have missed all these years.  Anyway, we had a chance to walk the town.  It's existence is a nice change to the usual fishing towns.  Started as a sponge and cotton trading town, it now caters to oysters and shrimp and tourism.  One can walk the  entire historical district in a couple of hours or so.  We decided to take the advice of some, dare I say it:  power boaters, and change plans to skip the Big Bend of Florida.  That is we will visit some of the ports in the Big Bend.

The French Consulate in Apalachicola

Being Overtaken by a Nice Trawler

This morning, we left the dock at 1045 hours in a 24 knot wind, as usual on the nose.  Once out of the harbor, we were able to sail with the headsail for twenty seven minutes before our course took us east and into the wind.  So much for freebie movement.  The rest of the day was under power.  We reached a milestone just one hour before reaching our anchorage for the evening.  We came to mile marker 375 east of Harvey Locks (New Orleans).  That is the end of the GIWW from Brownsville to Carrabelle, Florida.  From this point on, we will navigate buoys and landmarks outside any channels offshore.  In a way, it was the official start of the part of the cruise we both have looked forward to.  We reached a major decision today, thus committing to the cruise in serious fashion.  We called the Port Aransas Harbor Master and "gave up our slip".  It took three years on the waiting list to get that slip and we were keeping it just in case we did not like cruising.  So there, we have done it.  Now the National Weather Service said that there are record high sea surface temperatures in the Atlantic.  They are predicting a very active hurricane season this year.  Great, just great. 

As I write this, we are at the eastern tip of Dog Island.  It is about five nautical miles southeast of Carribelle, Florida on the St. Gorges Sound.  We are in flat, almost Caribbean water with very little wave action.  The sky is clear and we are expecting a beautiful sunset.  Our goal is to make port in Steinhatchee, Florida in the next day or so, dependent on weather.  For tonight, the Colors are retired properly, it is spaghetti and a rather cheap but good chardonnay in a place that few of the  finest resturants in the world can match in ambience. 

Mean Time to Failure

Sometimes one has to know that there is such a thing as lucky guessing.  We decided to leave this wonderful marina and head to Apalachicola today.   This marina, with delivered morning paper, free coffee, a grill and bicycles for use by transients, is the standard by which we will judge other marinas.  Certainly, it is the finest we have encountered thus far.  They are not doing a transient a favor; they welcome them with unbelievable enthusiasm.  Enough for the commercial, as I said, we planned to jump back in the last of the intracoastal water way for the trip south.  That destination is the one from which we will do a 180 nautical mile passage to Tarpon Springs, Florida.  The off shore punch will bypass the Big Bend of Florida’s West coast.  So much for planning in this case since my pre flight check list revealed a small problem.  I recall seeing some soot like stains on the engine compartment vent cowl on the transom yesterday.  The engine uses sea water to pass through a heat exchanger (the other side has antifreeze to circulate through the block) then it injects the water into the exhaust hose.  The part is called the mixing elbow.  So you get hot engine exhaust mixing with sea water in that little part.  Said part is a weak point and ours failed in the recent past, most likely in the final hour of our approach to this place.   The good news is that before leaving Texas, I canvassed the Beneteau  boys and girls and asked what the mean time to failure is for that part.  The consensus was around 1300 engine hours.   We purchased one as a spare at roughly the going price of gold.  Bear questioned the decision three months ago.  “Why do you think we need that part?” Guess what?  Failure occurred at 1354 engine hours. 

The original part has been in service for 12 years and I guessed right on this one.  Since the lead time was twenty days on the spare from the Houston distributor, one can only guess how much time it would have taken to get it here.  So, I started in on the repair.  There are four hose clamps and a compression ring to seal the part to the manifold.  That should be only a half hour to accomplish.  Right!  Slight problem is that one needs to be about two feet tall with two feet arms, tiny hands and a willingness to bleed profusely in order to get that done.  It does not help that the boat troll was running amuck hiding stuff like tools after I put them down.  It also does not help that the yuckypuck I used to seal the deal wound up all over me, my tee shirt and the boat.  Very little of the YP made it to the part.  A trip to the nearby auto supply house for a deep eleven millimeter socket was in order.  Thank goodness there is such a place only two blocks away.  The repair took two and one half hours which put us a bit tight on time to make Apalachicola today.  We opted to spend another night here and suffer through another day at this place.  Dang!

Yesterday was a milestone day for the crew of Why Knot.  It was the first time that I walked to the nearby store for supplies, backpack and all.  At the store, I caught myself making decisions as to what to purchase based on weight.  That is right, weight.  For instance: one does not necessarily want to buy a watermelon if one has to carry it a great distance.  Chips, dips, apples (but not many) and such are preferred to a case of soda or a ten pound roast.  One experienced cruiser casually mentioned that booze is heavy.  No joke. 

Condor Overnighter

After spending four days in Pensacola and the back waters of Bayou Chico, we slipped our dock lines and sailed down the bay, past the Naval Air Station and past Forts McRee and Barracas.  It was 0800 when we cleared the sea buoy on a clear cool morning with light northeast winds.  We were at sea for the first time in many months.  This was to be our first opportunity to actually do a day under sail since starting our cruise.  Our destination was Destin, Florida just a day sail east.  Just as we headed east, there were three other sail boats on the VHF discussing Destin and other ports along the West coast of Florida. All of them decided to wait another day and wait for better winds.  That gave me the idea to check other destinations further south.  That would give us better wind conditions for sailing.  The new destination was Fort Saint Joe in Saint Joseph Bay.  This is in the area where most boats opt to cut across the “Big Bend” and head for Tarpon Springs.  Why Knot we decided and we set the course. 

Now, we had a different mode of sailing.  We rigged for an overnighter which meant that we had to rig jack lines fore and aft, break out the life jackets with harnesses and teathers to “clip on”.  We started to do a different type of stowing gear for unknown rogue waves at night.  On short notice, we slipped into another mindset than we had clearing the sea buoy in Pensacola.  It is a good feeling to point the bow of Why Knot to sea. 

Because the distance of 100 nautical miles at our speed would put us near shore at around 0200, we decided to slow down so that we would arrive well after sunrise.   Given the wind speed, that would be no problem.  It never exceeded nineteen knots.  Most of the entire sail, we were in less than ten knots  just off our port bow, “close hauled” and beating.  Well, not exactly beating since our speed was a whopping four knots.  That would do it; put us there after sunrise.  When the speed dropped below two knots, we motor sailed. 

Bear settled in with a book and I started fiddling with the charts and calculations on speed, time bearings to the landmarks on shore.  A few hours into the day, we took on another crew member, Condor.  I found him sleeping under a pile of line near the starboard winch.  When I uncovered Condor, he started to make himself at home.  During the following four hours, Condor, as we referred to him,  visited the entire boat.  He signed on as crew but was not good at it.    He awoke Bear by attempting to climb under her blouse during one of her many naps.  Another time, he landed in her hair and pecked her lips.  He landed and stayed on my shoulder for a few minutes.  I gave him water and then he flew toward land which by then was 20 nautical miles away.  He came from sea, gave us an enjoyable visit then headed to land.  This has happened to us before.  Almost every time we get away from land we are visited by creatures wanting to rest a bit.  Just before sunset, another bird resembling a Martin also stopped by. 

Condor centered in the compas guard attempting to steer.

Profile of Condor, aka AWOL crew member

As the daylight settled into darkness, we could still see the lights of Destin and Panama City.   To the south there were no lights.  The sea state was hypnotic as the stars started to appear.  Bear went below to make sandwiches for night watch snacks.  We had the customary chicken pot pie and bean dip with corn chips.  That is starting to be a favorite since it takes little prep time.  We decided that I would stay on watch until I needed some sleep.  Due to the sensory treats of the night, I did not call for a watch change until  0230 and only then for an hour and a half. By then, I had the zombie thing down.  The moon was not to rise until 0315 in crescent stage.  So, it was just Why Knot on the edge of the Milky Way.  We did not even break out the IPod or turn on Buffett.  We listened to the sea, just the sound of the slight turbulence wake behind us and the sea being parted by the bow.  It was magic.  During those times when we had to interrupt the concert by motoring, there was luminescence in the prop wash.  It looked like a large version of Luke Skywalker’s light saber extending some twenty yards astern.  One thinks of the prop wash what they see looking astern during daylight.  It resembles the water in a washing machine, churning and bubbling.  The actual prop wash as evidenced by the luminescence resembles a pure, defined thrust about the diameter of the actual prop.  I am reminded of the after burner on military jets because that blue glow, some thirty feet or so in length, looks just like that.   It was accompanied by the bow and stern wave luminescence.   Imagine that in clear dark water.  I spent more time looking astern that forward.  The night continued to give up treats. 

Bear and I slept very little if at all during the passage.  We never do first night out.  I am convinced that it takes several uninterrupted days at sea for anyone to settle into the rhythm of the sea.  It takes that long for the bod to get tired to the point of accepting sleep, deep sleep in keeping with the watch system.   By sunrise, I was starting to see things and listen to the voices.  No, it is not what you think.  The sea had kept us awake and it had bombarded us with sights and sounds and that boys and girls is like attempting to eat a dozen donuts in one sitting.  It had been so long since we were at sea that we ignored nothing. 

We sailed into one of the nicest places that we have ever visited by sea, Port Saint Joe Marina.  Our definition of “nice”  is the whole package including the facilities, the operations, the tenants, the general stuff that greets one coming through a strange breakwater.  We contacted the Harbor Master, Lisa by VHF who told us to put our fenders starboard and there would be someone to catch us.  The breakwater is narrow and the harbor small and “tight”.  If folks were to help, I muttered the phrase: “Lord, don’t let me screw this up”.  One does not want to botch a witnessed docking.  When we rounded the last dock, there were seven people waiting to help us.  This is way to big a crowd to witness a tired crew smash the dock.  Somehow, we eased into position and it looked proper.  This is not natural.  One must break something every time one docks to be normal. 

First impressions were that this entire place is a boater’s place, the town must have been thumped by storms because it is mostly new buildings.  The grocery, marine store, downtown and even an adult beverage store are all within a few blocks of the dock.   The slip fee is $1.35 per foot,  a bargain.  The folks on the dock are, as always, fun to meet and discuss sailor tales.  Boats around us are mostly local sailors, but there are several of us with cruising plans heading both west and east.  This former paper mill town had transformed the area to a marine oriented community.  Boaters are welcome here. 

This morning, just as I was raising the colors, a young fellow came by with a blue bag.  He said “Good morning sir.  Your morning paper.”   The contents:  local Sunday paper, a printed mariners weather forecast and box with two very good cup cakes.  Not since Rick from the Port Aransas Lighthouse tossed a Sunday paper aboard WK while at anchor nearby, have we had a Sunday paper delivered.  Now that is the way to run a marina.  We think that since we are still feeling the effects of the unplanned overnighter, that we will stay another day before heading to Carrabelle.  After all, we have no plan hence no schedule.