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.
No comments:
Post a Comment