December 11, 2010.

So when was the last time you saw someone perform an incredibly romantic act and you inadvertently crushed the moment? Let me start from the beginning….

There’s at least 40 cruising boats in the immediate area waiting for this forecast cold front to pass through. The weather is once again warm so why not have a little fun while we’re waiting.

Monument Island is a couple of hundred yards away so a cocktail hour was planned for this afternoon for anyone who wanted to attend. Everyone is going a little stir crazy so at 1500 hours about 50 people and dozens of dinghies were crammed onto a very tiny wood lined beach.

I was standing near the tree line when I happened to see a man creeping towards us down a path. He was dressed like a limo driver and when he realized that we saw him he turned and trotted back up the trail. A jacket, slacks and polished shoes…..I’m thinkin’ that he’s way overdressed for cocktail hour. FBI? I dunno. He approached several more times during the next ten minutes. He was bug eyed and looked absolutely panic stricken and retreated every time someone attempted to engage him.

This is the same island where Christy and I had discovered a boatload of Cuban refugees several years ago. I’m thinkin that this guy might be the best dressed “rafter” ever.

Finally Christy and her friend Lynn cornered him and got him to talk. It turns out that he’s having his girlfriend brought here on a power yacht and delivered to the island by dinghy. We never noticed that he had created a trail of bougainvillea petals from the beach, up the trail, ending in a large heart shaped flower covered clearing. She’s enroute on the yacht, he’s been spreading flowers and awaiting her arrival and 50 cruisers with cocktails and snacks show up just before she’s due to arrive. He’s waiting to propose to her, he’s nervous as hell and we all show up. SURPRISE!!! Hey what’s that stuck to the bottom of my foot…..Oh, its romance.

We’re packed like sardines on this tiny ass beach but the women try to help the guy out. They offer to have us all stand aside as best we can while she’s landed and ignore her as she follows the flowery path. The dude is semi crushed but he adapts and calls the power boat and changes the plan. She’s inside the large power boat and while her attention is diverted the dinghy runs to shore, picks him up and whisks him back to the yacht without her being aware. Then they sneak him up to the flybridge where he waits until she lured topside on some pretense. We all watched from the beach while he dropped to one knee and asked for


her hand in marriage. The tension was palpable while we watched but could not hear. Finally he stood and she threw her arms around his neck, SUCCESS!!!

They went out on a harbor tour in the powerboat while we resumed the business of our cocktail hour. By chance the powerboat was coming slowly by as we all headed home from the beach. The newly betrothed couple were ear to ear grins as one dink after another sped by yelling out their congratulations. So inspite of our unintentional attempt to completely crush romance it seems that alls well that ends well.

Wait’ll we show up on the honeymoon….

December 8, 2010.

We’re sitting here in South Beach ready to go but the weather is just not cooperating. We could leave on Thursday and motor the entire way, but by Sunday night a brutal cold front will be pushing well down into the Bahamas. Getting there, getting checked in to the country and then finding someplace to hide with adequate protection is a pretty tall order on a tight schedule. Anything goes wrong and you can be pretty well screwed. We’ll pass on this “opportunity” and await the next window.

In the meantime we’ve spent some time walking around town. Soon after securing the dink we came
across this line of over a dozen 7 foot tall pink snails lining the side of the road. It’s some artsy fartsy crapola that’s supposed to be promoting recycling and the promoters promise to have their display popping up all over the country. It reminds me of that “artist” that made a statement by wrapping trees in Central Park in brightly colored bolts of cloth. Somebody has definitely slipped some hallucinogens into their crappa frappe chinos.

After that we visited the Holocaust Victims Memorial. It’s kinda bizarre in the fact that when you first come upon it you are standing with your back to a fairly busy, very loud roadway. But after only a few steps




into the memorial the sounds of the city disappear. Central to the memorial is a huge sculpted forearm that reaches skyward. I think the designer/ sculptor really nailed it with the design and recommend that anyone visiting the area take the time to walk through this thought provoking memorial.

Next, it was a few short blocks to the Lincoln Mall. We’ve been here before and after dark it certainly qualifies as a freak show. There are block after block of excellent people watching. Even during the daytime it’s a lot like going to the circus but without the elephant smell. At every turn you’re likely to come face to face with model like beautiful young women or guys built like Greek gods. But the reason I like to take this stroll is that there’s an even more likely chance that you’ll run into a dude that’s a few decades past his prime but still out there workin’ it like John Travolta strutting down the boulevard in Saturday Night Fever. Dude, they’re not smiling at you, they’re suppressing laughter. Then there are the older women with lips pumped as thick as my thumbs and their boobs pushed up so high they can barely open their mouths. They strive to be on the cutting edge of fashion including shoes that force them to gimp around like they have some type of scoliosis. Ooohh, you look so sexy when you hobble along like Quasimodo on his way to ring his bells.

The anchorage here is landlocked with good protection depending on where you decide to drop the hook. The only drawback is that during the weekend it can get a little lively as the large powerboats blast from one bridge to another. But it is a good sand bottom with room to swing so we'll sit here through this next cold front.


I need a weather window bad.....

December 6, 2010.

I awoke yesterday with anticipation to explore the shore along our anchorage in the Middle River. We had heard about a dinghy dock in a park where you could get fresh water, dump your garbage and take a short walk to West Marine, Publix, a liquor store and a laundromat. Sounds like traveling boater nirvana to me. But alas, it was not to be.

Our traveling companions were nervous about getting to Miami before the next front was due, which was sure to make the ocean uncomfortable for the next 3 days. I didn’t understand why we couldn’t wait out the weather here but I also didn’t want to miss the chance to sail to Miami on what promised to be a golden opportunity to sail in perfect conditions.

So we pulled the hook and set out for the inlet at Fort Lauderdale.
Once we motored under the 17th Street Bridge we raised the sail and headed east into the ocean. As soon as we cleared the inlet we pulled out the genoa, killed the engine and settled in for a too die for day of sailing.





Just south of the inlet we ran the gauntlet of small fishing boats trying their luck. Then there was a fleet of high performance sail boats racing from mark to mark. We dodged the occasional fishing boat over the next 15 miles before running into another small racing fleet warming up for an afternoon of racing.

When we arrived in


Miami we found that the main channel, Government Cut, was closed to pleasure traffic. Whenever there are 2 or more cruise ships at the docks they close the cut. When we arrived there were 4 of these behemoths tied in a row. We had to take the long way in but it’s just a slight inconvenience adding only a half mile or less to the trip.

We led our row of ducklings in through the “secret” ultra shallow entrance to our favorite anchorage just off Miami Beach. As we neared our preferred anchorage we were met by the sight of a welcoming committee of sorts. We were passing behind one expensive house after another when I spotted what looked to be…..yes, yes it is, the fabled Beast With Two Backs. Right there in the middle of the lawn was a couple going at it like a pair of 17 year olds at the drive in. I grabbed the mic and called back to our traveling companions so they would feel the warmth of Miami’s welcome as well. Surprisingly, even though there were four boats passing by the yard in quick succession none of us thought to grab a camera. I guess we were all preoccupied with the binoculars. Crap.

We’ll sit here for a few days awaiting the next weather window and a shot at crossing to the Bahamas.

December 4, 2010

We've done the ICW trip a few times and I have found myself to be a little lax in the picture taking department. The Savage Sons have a friend, Mike, aboard who is seeing this area for the first time and he put together a really good series of snapshots depicting our 20 bridge day.

December 4, 2010.

The weather window for a crossing to the Bahamas just hasn’t opened sufficiently for us. So for now, we’ll be satisfied with moving further south.

We were up and listening to Chris Parker’s morning weather guess, er, forecast when I decided to start the engine to prepare for getting underway. Turn key, press the go button, but no starty. Shit. It usually fires right up and it had been running fine when we shut it down when we got to North Lake Worth. When the diesel turns over but won’t fire it’s usually either fuel, fuel or in extreme cases fuel. Oddly enough, in this instance it turned out to be a plugged secondary fuel filter, so it was fuel after all.

We were up and running by 0800 and after a quick conference on the VHF it was off to Fort Lauderdale. Since the ocean was forecast to be fit for neither man nor beast it was to be a trip down the ICW.

Twenty minutes into the journey Savage Son called to report that his engine wasn’t running right. Crap. So we cut the day short and headed into the anchorage at Peanut Island after a 4 ½ mile day. The Savages went about changing all of their fuel filters and went for a test drive with no discernable difference in performance. They did however discover that the engine ran fine on the port tank but wouldn’t run worth a damn on the starboard tank. Bob had just topped this starboard tank off with 29 gallons of diesel. Suspecting bad fuel they went into a marina where they had their tank drained and refilled with fresh diesel. No difference. Shit. Everything in the fuel delivery system has been checked except the fuel pickup and the selector valve so they decided to travel on the port tank and find the starboards problem somewhere down the line.

So Saturday was a repeat of Friday with the only difference being 20 lift bridges and 35 miles. We pulled the hook at 0700 and turned south into the ICW. It was at about the fifth bridge of the day when I noticed that a disturbing trend was emerging. I had to yell at someone again. It was a beautiful sunny day, butterflies were flitting about and unicorns were unicorning. I can’t believe this shit.

We pulled up to a bridge with our 3 compadres behind us and 2 smaller sailboats were waiting single file for the timed opening. We were about 6 minutes early and were bobbing along towards the bridge in neutral with a very gentle breeze urging us forward. Christy’s side of the enclosure was down and she looked over at me and said “That guy is yelling at us”. I couldn’t hear him, so I went out on the aft deck and this guy is screaming “WTF are you doing, you can’t just show up and cut the line, you need to be behind us”. The guy was screaming like I kicked his puppy. At first I was a little bit taken aback by this guy just exploding on us and then I realized that he had been heaven sent. God had actually sent him to me so that I could vent some of the stress of having to deal with 20 ICW bridges in a single day. So once he had his say, it was my turn and vent I did.

I started with “Don’t worry captain, nobody’s trying to cut your little line. WTF difference does it make if I pass you before the bridge or after it. What’s the matter, are you afraid that we’re going to use up all the water?” I can’t even remember half the crap I said although I do remember a liberal amount of f’ing idiots. By the time I was done he wouldn’t even look over at us and his poor wife was studying her pedicure. Single file? We’d be stretched out for half a mile. Oh yeah, the bridge tender would just love that. Buffoon. I can’t imagine traveling a thousand miles in the ICW and sweating about someone getting ahead of you. Christ, it’s not like we’re waiting in line at the bank or grocery store.

SO when the bridge went up I allowed Captain Single File to go through and then all 4 of us blew past him. It’s actually easier to get the overtaking done while waiting for a bridge, then it is in the sometimes narrow confines of the ICW. I dunno, maybe he was having a bad day. Me, I’m seeing butterflies and unicorns.

Shortly thereafter we were passed by a small powerboat doing about 15 knots. Small wake, no problem. Not 2 minutes later we’re passed by some young guy in a triple engine monster center console type boat. The resulting wake rocked the shit out of all of us but it’s pretty much the norm when traveling on the weekends in Florida. Doing 35 knots or better he soon overtook the smaller powerboat and the shenanigans really started. The smaller boat tried to accelerate to stay ahead of the bigger boats tremendous wake. But they were sucked into the roll of the wake and nearly broached but ended up at speed headed right at the passing larger boat. Whack! When we caught up and passed by they were bobbing along side by side yelling at each other. Ah, life on the water is sooo relaxing.

After our twentieth bridge we turned up into the Middle River. Alibi II had told us about this anchorage and we were not disappointed. We also found our friends from Annapolis, Val & Harold here. About 2 hours after our arrival Captain Single File showed up and after reconnoitering decided to move on. I hope it wasn’t something I said…….

November 30, 2010.

Bear with me. I think that it’s been quite a while since I had a mini meltdown, shit flinging hissy fit.

We left Vero Beach this morning at first light for what would be a 56 nautical mile day down the ICW. There was intermittent rain with some gray miserabilty (yes, it’s my own word) thrown in for good measure. On the not so bright side was the fact that the wind was blowing between 12 and 20 knots dead on the nose.

We left with Far Niente, My Destiny, Savage Son and the “other” boat. It’s a 12 mile jaunt down to the lift bridge at Fort Pierce. The bridge is on request and all 5 boats were within ¾ of a mile of each other. Far Niente was in the lead and contacted the bridge and was told that the bridge would go up when we were all close enough. So Jay & Di slowed down to allow the group to bunch up a bit. With this the “other” boat pulled out and passed everyone, reached the bridge and was surprised to find out that he would have to wait 2 minutes for the rest of us. As he was about to pass Far Niente he called to tell Jay that he was coming by. Jay replied “sure, just don’t wake me bro”. The guy thought that Jay was serious and explained to Jay that since he was also a sailboat he couldn’t wake him if he wanted to. I might have been a little crabby because of the weather but I quickly decide that the captain of the “other” boat was an idiot.

So the bridge went up and the 4 of us were approaching with a little head of steam while the “other” boat was sitting in front of the opening. After the bridge was completely up he gingerly moved forward at a knot or two. We were still doing about 4 knots, do the math……first we chopped the throttle, then we went to neutral, still not enough. He was looking back at us but still not adding any throttle. We had to use reverse while going under the narrow bridge which might sound like fun, but I can assure you, is not.

The “other” boat was still ahead of us as the 5 of us settled in for the 20 mile trip to the next lift bridge. The next 2 bridges are both on request but he was pleasantly surprised to find this out at each bridge. The 4th bridge is a timed opening only, so arrival time is of the essence.

We had 30 minutes to run 3.1 miles or we were going to miss the bridge and lose a half an hour. The waning daylight was getting to be a concern. We were fighting the current but needed to maintain 6 knots or we’d miss the bridge.

Far Niente and My Destiny are both faster than the rest of us and if one of them could get to the next bridge in time for the opening we’d all get through. If they got there on time, asked for the opening, by the time that bridge keeper stops traffic, drops the gates and opens the bridge the rest of us would have arrived. The “other” boat seemed to have trouble grasping this concept when I laid it out for him on the VHF. It looked a little like roller derby but My Destiny was eventually able to pass the ass clown to give us a fighting chance at making the bridge.

Then Far Niente managed to slip past and I figured that we may as well go too. We were moving about half a tenth of a knot faster than the “other” boat so it was going to take us at least half a mile to get past him. We pulled out to port and were running down the green side of the channel. We were directly abeam of the “other” boat and we had a 10 foot tall green day mark 200 feet directly in front of us. The mark was only about 15 feet from shore so we needed to move back towards the channel to clear the green mark.

I looked over and the “other” boat was literally 12 feet away from us neck and neck. The channel was 200 feet wide, I was gonna hit the green mark and he was RIGHT next to us. Since he was so close I immediately engaged him in direct conversation rather than go through the less personal VHF.

ME— WTF??

Ass Clown--- I’m right on the edge of the channel!!

ME—Are you kidding me?? I have the f@#king green mark directly in front of me. Look around you…!!!

Then he actually squatted down and put his finger on his chart plotters screen and tried to show me where his little boat was on his screen. This is also where the direct interaction became more of a monologue. I lost my mind for a bit and pretty much started yelling.

By then we were on top of the mark and had to turn toward the ass clown and drive him back into the channel. Livid doesn’t begin to cover it. And oh look, and we missed the bridge by 4 minutes anyway. He had me talking to myself for miles. The idiot is looking at his chart plotter instead of what’s going on in the real world outside his cockpit.

I think he may have sensed that I was perturbed with him and he stayed behind us as we allowed the faster boats to get the jump on the next 3 timed bridges of the day. We made all the bridges easily and after a really long day dropped the hook in Lake Worth. He also anchored quite far from us……hmmmm?

On a brighter note we do have an addition to the new Boat Name of the Day collection:
It was a large trawler type boat driven by an older couple, “Biddie and the Beast”.