May 19th. We haul the anchor as planned and head over to the fuel dock. The current is ripping along the dock and the potential for disaster is huge but we get on the wall okay. The fuel dock here is called the “Megadock”, its 1530 feet long, that’s over a quarter of a mile long, its pretty impressive. We are the last boat all the way down at the furthest end.
While I fuel the boat and fill the water tank one of the dock boys loads Christy and the dogs into his golf cart and drives her down to pay the bill. Then she walks the dogs to shore and has to walk all the way back to the boat. By the time we get underway its 0810 and we’re running behind.
Just north of Charleston is the Ben Sawyer Swing Bridge. It’s open upon request until 0900 and then it’s only open on the hour, so if we don’t make it by 0900 there won’t be another opening for an hour. We have good wind so we get some sail up but continue motoring and we arrive at the bridge in a nick of time.
The trip is a slow one as the tide is running against us for the better part of the day. But the wildlife watching was extraordinary complete with a few alligator sightings. Not the pelligators of our trip south but actual alligators.
We’ve decided to stop just about a dozen miles short of Georgetown and spend the night in Minim Creek. It’s a nice little spot with an old dock that I can use for the dogs. The dock was scary as hell as the whole structure wobbled and was missing boards.
We didn’t realize it until after we stopped that Minim Creek is actually a mosquito breeding sanctuary where they raise free range mosquitoes. They raise mosquitoes here for movie and television production companies. All the mosquitoes on the series LOST come from the Minim Creek farm.
May 20. Since we’re only about 2 hours from Georgetown we decide to leave at 0830. The anchorage we’re headed to is fairly small and I figure it would give people anchored there a chance to get underway and create some room for us if we arrive in mid morning.
As Veranda and Freedom pull into the tiny, packed anchorage we’re thrilled to see 2 boats pulling their anchors. Perfect planning, 2 out 2 in.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
May 18th
May 18th. While we were in Charleston we found out that the up coming weekend was a tall ships festival. The boats were arriving from all over the world on Wednesday and Thursday for the festivities which started on Friday.
Also on Friday was the beginning of the annual Charleston to Bermuda race. So we ended up staying here for a full week when at first we thought it would be 2 or 3 days at most. It was well worth it though as the tall ships were awesome and the start of the race was actually very exciting considering that it’s an 800 mile race.
We rode our bikes all over town and had a real easy time getting around as the downtown streets became a parking lot due to the extra traffic drawn by the weekend’s events.
The tall ships were very interesting but talking to the crew was even more fun. The ship from India was my favorite because you could see that every young sailor was just dying to try out his English. They were all fairly capable with our language and you could see their honest enthusiasm with being here. They all get one night of shore leave while in port and you could see that it was special for them.
By contrast, not really negatively, was the crew from Columbia. I’m not sure if it’s the Latino Machismo that they’re saddled with carrying around but it was different. They were much more formal, as every man boarded the ship he was saluted, every woman was offered a hand transiting the gangplank. Not many of them spoke English but if you went out of the way to try and engage them they would produce a card from their pocket with common phrases translated into English for them. The Columbian boat was the largest with a crew of 131.
The boat from Bermuda was also a favorite. It was only a year old and even though it was just over a hundred feet long it could probably be handled by a crew of 4. We were the first persons to tour the boat as there had been a problem with their gangplank that was rectified just as we walked up. It was the only boat that actually assigned each group a guide. There were 6 of us in our group so it made the visit that much more personal. We had Reid the assistant ships engineer as our guide and he enjoyed showing us around. This boat had by far the nicest galley/ salon area of any boat we toured. The boat was spotless and well kept with bunks for 27 and currently crewed by 18. When we went into the engine room we were astounded by the size of the fuel filters and the watermaker they had on board. Since Reid was the assistant to the engineer I asked him how much water the watermaker would produce and he answered “Oh, it makes a lot of water”. I’m glad he didn’t get to technical on me.
Tomorrow we’re pulling the anchor at 0700 to get underway to Georgetown. We have to hit the fuel dock and take on a little diesel and fill up the water tank.
Also on Friday was the beginning of the annual Charleston to Bermuda race. So we ended up staying here for a full week when at first we thought it would be 2 or 3 days at most. It was well worth it though as the tall ships were awesome and the start of the race was actually very exciting considering that it’s an 800 mile race.
We rode our bikes all over town and had a real easy time getting around as the downtown streets became a parking lot due to the extra traffic drawn by the weekend’s events.
The tall ships were very interesting but talking to the crew was even more fun. The ship from India was my favorite because you could see that every young sailor was just dying to try out his English. They were all fairly capable with our language and you could see their honest enthusiasm with being here. They all get one night of shore leave while in port and you could see that it was special for them.
By contrast, not really negatively, was the crew from Columbia. I’m not sure if it’s the Latino Machismo that they’re saddled with carrying around but it was different. They were much more formal, as every man boarded the ship he was saluted, every woman was offered a hand transiting the gangplank. Not many of them spoke English but if you went out of the way to try and engage them they would produce a card from their pocket with common phrases translated into English for them. The Columbian boat was the largest with a crew of 131.
The boat from Bermuda was also a favorite. It was only a year old and even though it was just over a hundred feet long it could probably be handled by a crew of 4. We were the first persons to tour the boat as there had been a problem with their gangplank that was rectified just as we walked up. It was the only boat that actually assigned each group a guide. There were 6 of us in our group so it made the visit that much more personal. We had Reid the assistant ships engineer as our guide and he enjoyed showing us around. This boat had by far the nicest galley/ salon area of any boat we toured. The boat was spotless and well kept with bunks for 27 and currently crewed by 18. When we went into the engine room we were astounded by the size of the fuel filters and the watermaker they had on board. Since Reid was the assistant to the engineer I asked him how much water the watermaker would produce and he answered “Oh, it makes a lot of water”. I’m glad he didn’t get to technical on me.
Tomorrow we’re pulling the anchor at 0700 to get underway to Georgetown. We have to hit the fuel dock and take on a little diesel and fill up the water tank.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
May 14th
May 14. We’ve been in Charleston for a few days now. The anchorage is wonderful and horrible at the same time. There’s a 2 or 3 knot current ripping through at all times. It makes finding the right spot to drop the anchor a real challenge for some people.
This Canadian boat came in late yesterday and dropped the hook. At the time they were off to the side of us and seemed to be a pretty good distance away. As the tide here goes out all the boats are held to the rushing current facing west. The wind meanwhile is blowing straight from the east. So as we get to slack tide different boats start to turn and face the wind at different times. As the last of the tide is ebbing we notice that the Canadian Catalina next to us is starting to sail at anchor and is way out of rhythm with everyone else in the anchorage. Of course you know who their anchored next to.
We’re still facing the last of the retreating tide as the Catalina darts towards and then away from us. What was once over a hundred feet of space between us at times becomes less than 6 feet. We were just about to head into town and now we’re saddled with watching this A-holes boat as they have already gone ashore for the day. At one point Christy is able to easily reach over and touch the other boat with our 8 foot boat pole as she crosses our bow.
Finally the tide starts to flood and we all fall into place facing east. Shortly thereafter the Canadians come home to their boat and before we can bitch to them at all they pull their anchor and leave for parts unknown. They have no idea how close they came to disaster and left in a fog of idiot’s bliss.
Alright back to Charleston. The town is awesome, the place just oozes history. On our first trip into town we walked about 6 miles and covered a lot of the downtown scene. It did turn into a kind of a forced march after awhile as the day was pretty hot.
So on our second day we rode our bikes into town to do our nosing about. We decided to take a narrated horse drawn carriage tour of the town. We were fortunate to draw a very enthusiastic young lady who was very animated about the characters, patriots and scoundrels that once roamed these streets. It was a lot more fun than I thought it would be.
Charleston had a more prominent role in the history of the United States than I realized. It was important to the patriots of the Revolution, the pirates during the days of pillage and plunder and of course the Civil War. Its really a remarkable place and we look forward to our return.
Boat Name Of The Day: Everyone has heard of Sinbad the Sailor: well there’s a powerboat here called Sailbad the Sinner.
This Canadian boat came in late yesterday and dropped the hook. At the time they were off to the side of us and seemed to be a pretty good distance away. As the tide here goes out all the boats are held to the rushing current facing west. The wind meanwhile is blowing straight from the east. So as we get to slack tide different boats start to turn and face the wind at different times. As the last of the tide is ebbing we notice that the Canadian Catalina next to us is starting to sail at anchor and is way out of rhythm with everyone else in the anchorage. Of course you know who their anchored next to.
We’re still facing the last of the retreating tide as the Catalina darts towards and then away from us. What was once over a hundred feet of space between us at times becomes less than 6 feet. We were just about to head into town and now we’re saddled with watching this A-holes boat as they have already gone ashore for the day. At one point Christy is able to easily reach over and touch the other boat with our 8 foot boat pole as she crosses our bow.
Finally the tide starts to flood and we all fall into place facing east. Shortly thereafter the Canadians come home to their boat and before we can bitch to them at all they pull their anchor and leave for parts unknown. They have no idea how close they came to disaster and left in a fog of idiot’s bliss.
Alright back to Charleston. The town is awesome, the place just oozes history. On our first trip into town we walked about 6 miles and covered a lot of the downtown scene. It did turn into a kind of a forced march after awhile as the day was pretty hot.
So on our second day we rode our bikes into town to do our nosing about. We decided to take a narrated horse drawn carriage tour of the town. We were fortunate to draw a very enthusiastic young lady who was very animated about the characters, patriots and scoundrels that once roamed these streets. It was a lot more fun than I thought it would be.
Charleston had a more prominent role in the history of the United States than I realized. It was important to the patriots of the Revolution, the pirates during the days of pillage and plunder and of course the Civil War. Its really a remarkable place and we look forward to our return.
Boat Name Of The Day: Everyone has heard of Sinbad the Sailor: well there’s a powerboat here called Sailbad the Sinner.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
May 11
May 11. Up and underway by 0800 for our 34 mile trip to Charleston.
After 7 miles as we were approaching one of the ICW markers I was informed by the navigator that the Skipper Bob guide advised staying to the far right side of the channel as there is considerable shoaling. The only problem is that there are only markers on the left side of the channel so where the opposite side of the channel actually is, is open for debate. I think we’re doing fine but the navigator thinks we need to steer more to starboard.
Bump, okay no big deal we just bumped. BUUMMP, okay, still moving, we’ll be past the shoal any second, plenty of water, no worries, not a problem, everything’s gonna be fine. Thud, okay, we’re not moving. Damn. We’re stuck as hell, can’t back off or move forward. The tidal range here is almost 6 feet but fortunately it’s only about 9 inches above low tide. Checking the tide chart and the clock I figure that if we just sit here we should be able to float free by 1130.
We are able to convince Jim and Deb to keep going as the tide falls so quickly here that once you’re stuck on a falling tide you’re pretty much screwed. So we shut off the engine and watched as Freedom disappeared around a bend.
Christy made breakfast omelets and after we ate she sat on the bow in the sun as I watched for boat traffic coming up behind us. Only 2 boats came past and I was able to raise them from close to a mile away and ask that when they got close to please slow down so as not to push us further onto the sandbar with their wakes. Both Captains were very cooperative and crept past us with nary a ripple. Not riffle, there was none of that. The second boat was actually kind of funny because when I asked them to slow down for us I could hear relief in the woman’s voice as she repeated to me “ Ohhh, you just want us to slow down”. I’m sure she thought that we were going to ask for a tow or some kind of help.
I figured that by 1115 I could start the engine and by 1130 we should have enough water to try backing off. At 1110 a small workboat came by and I figured I could use his wake to get the boat moving so I started the engine. I didn’t hail him on the radio and as he approached he realized what was wrong and immediately slowed down. I quickly called him and told him that we were just about refloated and asked him to keep his speed so I could use his wake. He resumed his speed and his wake was just enough to get us off the bottom and moving backwards. In less than a boat length we were back in deep water and on our way again.
The funny thing was that as Freedom headed north they were fighting the outgoing tide while we sat through it. Then when the tide started to fill back in we were able to ride a full knot push for over 2 hours and we arrived at Charleston only an hour behind them.
PAC’s were never so good and then we went over to Freedom to enjoy the evening. Christy and Deb coauthored a fabulous dinner followed by sundowners. Poor Deb was freaked out about our insistence that they leave us behind. We explained to her that there was nothing they could do, we weren’t in any danger and there really wasn’t any stress involved. It is what it is. We had breakfast, sat in the sun, pondered stuff and when it was time we floated off. And a good time was had by all……….
After 7 miles as we were approaching one of the ICW markers I was informed by the navigator that the Skipper Bob guide advised staying to the far right side of the channel as there is considerable shoaling. The only problem is that there are only markers on the left side of the channel so where the opposite side of the channel actually is, is open for debate. I think we’re doing fine but the navigator thinks we need to steer more to starboard.
Bump, okay no big deal we just bumped. BUUMMP, okay, still moving, we’ll be past the shoal any second, plenty of water, no worries, not a problem, everything’s gonna be fine. Thud, okay, we’re not moving. Damn. We’re stuck as hell, can’t back off or move forward. The tidal range here is almost 6 feet but fortunately it’s only about 9 inches above low tide. Checking the tide chart and the clock I figure that if we just sit here we should be able to float free by 1130.
We are able to convince Jim and Deb to keep going as the tide falls so quickly here that once you’re stuck on a falling tide you’re pretty much screwed. So we shut off the engine and watched as Freedom disappeared around a bend.
Christy made breakfast omelets and after we ate she sat on the bow in the sun as I watched for boat traffic coming up behind us. Only 2 boats came past and I was able to raise them from close to a mile away and ask that when they got close to please slow down so as not to push us further onto the sandbar with their wakes. Both Captains were very cooperative and crept past us with nary a ripple. Not riffle, there was none of that. The second boat was actually kind of funny because when I asked them to slow down for us I could hear relief in the woman’s voice as she repeated to me “ Ohhh, you just want us to slow down”. I’m sure she thought that we were going to ask for a tow or some kind of help.
I figured that by 1115 I could start the engine and by 1130 we should have enough water to try backing off. At 1110 a small workboat came by and I figured I could use his wake to get the boat moving so I started the engine. I didn’t hail him on the radio and as he approached he realized what was wrong and immediately slowed down. I quickly called him and told him that we were just about refloated and asked him to keep his speed so I could use his wake. He resumed his speed and his wake was just enough to get us off the bottom and moving backwards. In less than a boat length we were back in deep water and on our way again.
The funny thing was that as Freedom headed north they were fighting the outgoing tide while we sat through it. Then when the tide started to fill back in we were able to ride a full knot push for over 2 hours and we arrived at Charleston only an hour behind them.
PAC’s were never so good and then we went over to Freedom to enjoy the evening. Christy and Deb coauthored a fabulous dinner followed by sundowners. Poor Deb was freaked out about our insistence that they leave us behind. We explained to her that there was nothing they could do, we weren’t in any danger and there really wasn’t any stress involved. It is what it is. We had breakfast, sat in the sun, pondered stuff and when it was time we floated off. And a good time was had by all……….
May 10
May 10. As I told you earlier the Ladies Island Swing Bridge is on a restricted opening schedule. We’re leaving today so we got up before 0800 to get ready for the 1015 bridge opening. Miss it and we’re screwed.
Christy fills the water tank while I take the dogs on their morning walk. On my way past the dockmasters office there’s another boater asking about the bridge’s schedule. The dockmaster is holding a piece of paper from the office of Homeland Security that says as of today there will be no 1015 opening, its going to be an 0915 opening instead.
On the VHF the bridge tender has been telling everyone that the opening will be 1015 and he says he hasn’t received any new opening schedule from Homeland Security when the dockmaster is asked to call him. So its 1015, period.
So I continue on my walk with the dogs and just for the heck of it I stop and ask about the schedule one more time and the dockmaster assures me of a 1015 opening. When I get back to the boat I hear the bridge tender announce that he’s just gotten an update from Homeland Security and the next scheduled bridge opening has been moved up to 0915. Holy shit, get ready we’ve got to go.
Luckily since we were up plenty early we were able to get underway quickly. Christy backed us off the wall as I pushed the stern away, fended the bow and hopped on at the last moment. Only one other boat beside us made the opening, Jim and Deb on their catamaran Freedom. The poor guy who had been assured of a 1015 opening had taken his group into town for breakfast and missed the newly scheduled time. The next opening wasn’t until 1415 hours and we listened to him bitch, whine and bitch some more at the bridge tender on the VHF when he got back to the boat and found out things had changed. They actually had a Coast Guard boat go down to the marina to calm him down.
The rest of the day was an uneventful trip of about 30 miles. We stopped for the night at a fork in the ICW. When the path most traveled turned right, we went left into a secluded section of the river and dropped the hook in 10 feet of water. The trip to Charleston would have been about 60 couple miles so with the late start we decided not to kill ourselves and split it up into 2 days.
Jim and Deb on Freedom have similar plans for the immediate future so we are traveling together. We had met the Freedom’s when they were in Marathon with us for a few days and our paths once again crossed briefly in Saint Augustine. So they dropped the anchor 100 yards away and enjoyed the private anchorage along with us. Late in the evening a few boats that had been trapped until the 1415 bridge opening showed up and joined us in the anchorage. The place was plenty big and we were all able to put out plenty of scope to deal with the ripping tidal current. Tomorrow will be a short day as well so a starting time of 0800 will give us plenty of time to make Charleston by early afternoon.
Christy fills the water tank while I take the dogs on their morning walk. On my way past the dockmasters office there’s another boater asking about the bridge’s schedule. The dockmaster is holding a piece of paper from the office of Homeland Security that says as of today there will be no 1015 opening, its going to be an 0915 opening instead.
On the VHF the bridge tender has been telling everyone that the opening will be 1015 and he says he hasn’t received any new opening schedule from Homeland Security when the dockmaster is asked to call him. So its 1015, period.
So I continue on my walk with the dogs and just for the heck of it I stop and ask about the schedule one more time and the dockmaster assures me of a 1015 opening. When I get back to the boat I hear the bridge tender announce that he’s just gotten an update from Homeland Security and the next scheduled bridge opening has been moved up to 0915. Holy shit, get ready we’ve got to go.
Luckily since we were up plenty early we were able to get underway quickly. Christy backed us off the wall as I pushed the stern away, fended the bow and hopped on at the last moment. Only one other boat beside us made the opening, Jim and Deb on their catamaran Freedom. The poor guy who had been assured of a 1015 opening had taken his group into town for breakfast and missed the newly scheduled time. The next opening wasn’t until 1415 hours and we listened to him bitch, whine and bitch some more at the bridge tender on the VHF when he got back to the boat and found out things had changed. They actually had a Coast Guard boat go down to the marina to calm him down.
The rest of the day was an uneventful trip of about 30 miles. We stopped for the night at a fork in the ICW. When the path most traveled turned right, we went left into a secluded section of the river and dropped the hook in 10 feet of water. The trip to Charleston would have been about 60 couple miles so with the late start we decided not to kill ourselves and split it up into 2 days.
Jim and Deb on Freedom have similar plans for the immediate future so we are traveling together. We had met the Freedom’s when they were in Marathon with us for a few days and our paths once again crossed briefly in Saint Augustine. So they dropped the anchor 100 yards away and enjoyed the private anchorage along with us. Late in the evening a few boats that had been trapped until the 1415 bridge opening showed up and joined us in the anchorage. The place was plenty big and we were all able to put out plenty of scope to deal with the ripping tidal current. Tomorrow will be a short day as well so a starting time of 0800 will give us plenty of time to make Charleston by early afternoon.
May 8 & 9
May 8th. Well we’ve been here for a couple of days waiting out a big wind storm. We’ve been very fortunate as we’re in a seam between the wind and the calm. The wind is from the north and 20 miles to the west of us it’s blowing about 5 to 10 knots. While 30 miles to the east of us the Coast Guard is being kept busy saving the unwary boaters who were caught out. Out there it’s blowing a steady 35 knots with much higher gusts.
We’ve seen short half hour bursts into the high twenties but it’s been basically less than 15 knots while we were here. So tomorrow looks as if it will be the day to get underway for Charleston.
The Ladies Island Swing Bridge is 300 yards north of the marina. There’s a fixed 65 foot bridge about 2 miles south of here that was hit by a barge. The damage was fairly mild but until the bridge is repaired all the traffic from the barrier islands has to come across the only remaining bridge. This leaves the Ladies Island Swing Bridge overwhelmed with vehicular traffic. Now the bridge only opens at 0515, 1015, 1415, 2000 hours and then on the hour all night. So we’re planning for a 1015 bridge opening to start our trip to Charleston.
May 9th. We’re still here. The wind has been building and I don’t think we can get the boat off the wall that we’ve been moored too for these last few days. The wind has us pressed tight against the wall. We’re down at the end of a fairway with boats side tied along both sides. Once clear of the wall we’d have to back down a hundred yards of boat lined fairway with a pretty good crosswind blowing, oh yeah, and there’s adverse current too, Lol.
We’ve just seen on CNN that the storm has been named. So here we sit as the first named storm of the season runs its course offshore. It looks as if Charleston, 50 miles to our north is going to get the brunt of the rain and because of the counterclockwise rotation of the storm we should only see the winds after they’ve worn themselves out coming across the land.
So we’ll be patient, enjoy our surroundings and make the best of the situation. It’s just starting to rain…..
We’ve seen short half hour bursts into the high twenties but it’s been basically less than 15 knots while we were here. So tomorrow looks as if it will be the day to get underway for Charleston.
The Ladies Island Swing Bridge is 300 yards north of the marina. There’s a fixed 65 foot bridge about 2 miles south of here that was hit by a barge. The damage was fairly mild but until the bridge is repaired all the traffic from the barrier islands has to come across the only remaining bridge. This leaves the Ladies Island Swing Bridge overwhelmed with vehicular traffic. Now the bridge only opens at 0515, 1015, 1415, 2000 hours and then on the hour all night. So we’re planning for a 1015 bridge opening to start our trip to Charleston.
May 9th. We’re still here. The wind has been building and I don’t think we can get the boat off the wall that we’ve been moored too for these last few days. The wind has us pressed tight against the wall. We’re down at the end of a fairway with boats side tied along both sides. Once clear of the wall we’d have to back down a hundred yards of boat lined fairway with a pretty good crosswind blowing, oh yeah, and there’s adverse current too, Lol.
We’ve just seen on CNN that the storm has been named. So here we sit as the first named storm of the season runs its course offshore. It looks as if Charleston, 50 miles to our north is going to get the brunt of the rain and because of the counterclockwise rotation of the storm we should only see the winds after they’ve worn themselves out coming across the land.
So we’ll be patient, enjoy our surroundings and make the best of the situation. It’s just starting to rain…..
May 5th
May 5th. All the weather sources that we can check are all predicting big time winds for Sunday afternoon through Tuesday. It’s supposed to be a Northeaster with anywhere from 25 to 35 knots of wind with gusts into the forties.
We’ve made the decision to make a 75 mile day of it and get to Beaufort, South Carolina. We passed by on our way south without stopping and it’s supposed to be quite beautiful. If we’re going to be trapped somewhere for a couple of days we’d like to be somewhere we can still get out and do something.
I took the dogs to shore at 0615 and were back underway at first light. The number of flies in Georgia is just amazing. What’s even more amazing is that the flies disappeared once we crossed into South Carolina. Don’t question small miracles.
The day seems to take forever as there’s no discernable wind and we’re motoring back and forth, east and west as the ICW winds its way northward. We do hit the tides just right and throughout the shallowest parts of our trip we arrive at either a rising or full tide. I was able to get the main up for an hour or so and with the couple of knots of wind we gained about 3 tenths of a knot of boat speed.
When we were crossing the Port Royal Sound we were able to get the genoa up for a full knot boost, for an hour. We arrived in Beaufort at 1820 hours just after the marina closed so we took a spot on the fuel dock for the night. We’re taking a slip for the next few days while we wait out this wind storm.
We’ve made the decision to make a 75 mile day of it and get to Beaufort, South Carolina. We passed by on our way south without stopping and it’s supposed to be quite beautiful. If we’re going to be trapped somewhere for a couple of days we’d like to be somewhere we can still get out and do something.
I took the dogs to shore at 0615 and were back underway at first light. The number of flies in Georgia is just amazing. What’s even more amazing is that the flies disappeared once we crossed into South Carolina. Don’t question small miracles.
The day seems to take forever as there’s no discernable wind and we’re motoring back and forth, east and west as the ICW winds its way northward. We do hit the tides just right and throughout the shallowest parts of our trip we arrive at either a rising or full tide. I was able to get the main up for an hour or so and with the couple of knots of wind we gained about 3 tenths of a knot of boat speed.
When we were crossing the Port Royal Sound we were able to get the genoa up for a full knot boost, for an hour. We arrived in Beaufort at 1820 hours just after the marina closed so we took a spot on the fuel dock for the night. We’re taking a slip for the next few days while we wait out this wind storm.
Sunday, May 6, 2007
May 4th
May 4th. We left the Fredericka River and motored 50 couple miles to Kilkenny Creek in the heart of Georgia. Deliverance wasn’t filmed here but I’m sure it was the inspiration for the story.
There is a marina 2 and a half miles up the Kilkenny Creek. It’s the only place for at least 20 miles to get diesel. When we get there Bedazzle takes her spot at the fuel dock while we circle slowly as there’s only room for one of us at the dock at a time. She has 2, 34 gallon tanks and took 33 and a half gallons in each tank. Talk about cutting it close.
After Bedazzle pulls away we take our place on the fuel dock. I tell the attendant that I need diesel and he points at the pump handle lying on the dock and says that’s it right there and walks away. So while I’m pumping fuel Christy takes the dogs for a walk. When I’m done she’s up near the office so as she approaches to pay for the fuel a huge dog / bear thing rushes from the door and attacks. In an instant he has Molly by the neck and flings her through the air then goes after Tucker who is now after him. Christy is screaming, I’m 100 feet away at the fuel dock and to far away to help but luckily a guy standing there kicks the beast and gains control of the animal.
Christy lets our dogs go and sends them down the dock to me. Molly is completely uninjured and Christy goes inside to pay and confront the marina owner about his dog’s behavior. His only answer is “hmf, he’s never done that before”.
When its time for us to leave the fuel dock we have a cross wind holding us tight to the dock. A boater who has taken a slip here for the night comes over to fend for us as we back away from the dock. The guy says he’s helped the last couple of boats leave as nobody from the marina will come down to the dock and help. What a shit hole. Later the crew of Bedazzle told us that their experience there was pretty much like ours. What a shit hole.
Both of us anchored further up the river in 10 feet of water. It’s just after low tide and the tidal flow here is going to be about 8 feet. The wind is 15 knots from the north. The meandering river flows basically east and west at this spot. Whenever we anchor someplace with a change of direction due to tidal flow I always stay up to size up the situation as the current turns.
The tide was supposed to change around 2300 hours so I was writing a trip report while waiting. At about 2330 hours I went topside to check out the situation. Holy crap, they’re gone!
Where we are anchored is dark as hell with only a scattered handful of lights around us on the horizon. I had established a line of position with a distant red flashing ICW light, Bedazzle and ourselves. When I came topside we were still tucked up against the north shore of the creek. I saw the red light but Bedazzle was gone. They had dragged more than a hundred yards from their starting point east of us near the north shore. They had traveled with the outgoing tide and were driven south of us by the wind. Their anchor seemed to be set now and I could see that they were not moving but I couldn’t tell how close they were to the southern shore. I woke Christy for a consultation and we decided to call them on the phone so they could assess the situation themselves. They ended up pulling the anchor and dropping it again, this time they were good for the remainder of the night.
Since so much of this trip report was dedicated to the Bedazzles I asked them for a suggestion for “Boat Name of the Day”. So here goes………
Boat Name of the Day………”Bow Movement” was a sailboat they saw in Titusville with a runner up award for a powerboat named “Dollars Aweigh”
There is a marina 2 and a half miles up the Kilkenny Creek. It’s the only place for at least 20 miles to get diesel. When we get there Bedazzle takes her spot at the fuel dock while we circle slowly as there’s only room for one of us at the dock at a time. She has 2, 34 gallon tanks and took 33 and a half gallons in each tank. Talk about cutting it close.
After Bedazzle pulls away we take our place on the fuel dock. I tell the attendant that I need diesel and he points at the pump handle lying on the dock and says that’s it right there and walks away. So while I’m pumping fuel Christy takes the dogs for a walk. When I’m done she’s up near the office so as she approaches to pay for the fuel a huge dog / bear thing rushes from the door and attacks. In an instant he has Molly by the neck and flings her through the air then goes after Tucker who is now after him. Christy is screaming, I’m 100 feet away at the fuel dock and to far away to help but luckily a guy standing there kicks the beast and gains control of the animal.
Christy lets our dogs go and sends them down the dock to me. Molly is completely uninjured and Christy goes inside to pay and confront the marina owner about his dog’s behavior. His only answer is “hmf, he’s never done that before”.
When its time for us to leave the fuel dock we have a cross wind holding us tight to the dock. A boater who has taken a slip here for the night comes over to fend for us as we back away from the dock. The guy says he’s helped the last couple of boats leave as nobody from the marina will come down to the dock and help. What a shit hole. Later the crew of Bedazzle told us that their experience there was pretty much like ours. What a shit hole.
Both of us anchored further up the river in 10 feet of water. It’s just after low tide and the tidal flow here is going to be about 8 feet. The wind is 15 knots from the north. The meandering river flows basically east and west at this spot. Whenever we anchor someplace with a change of direction due to tidal flow I always stay up to size up the situation as the current turns.
The tide was supposed to change around 2300 hours so I was writing a trip report while waiting. At about 2330 hours I went topside to check out the situation. Holy crap, they’re gone!
Where we are anchored is dark as hell with only a scattered handful of lights around us on the horizon. I had established a line of position with a distant red flashing ICW light, Bedazzle and ourselves. When I came topside we were still tucked up against the north shore of the creek. I saw the red light but Bedazzle was gone. They had dragged more than a hundred yards from their starting point east of us near the north shore. They had traveled with the outgoing tide and were driven south of us by the wind. Their anchor seemed to be set now and I could see that they were not moving but I couldn’t tell how close they were to the southern shore. I woke Christy for a consultation and we decided to call them on the phone so they could assess the situation themselves. They ended up pulling the anchor and dropping it again, this time they were good for the remainder of the night.
Since so much of this trip report was dedicated to the Bedazzles I asked them for a suggestion for “Boat Name of the Day”. So here goes………
Boat Name of the Day………”Bow Movement” was a sailboat they saw in Titusville with a runner up award for a powerboat named “Dollars Aweigh”
May 3rd
May 3rd. Got underway at 0800 for a 46 mile sail to Fort Oglethorpe on the Fredericka River in southern Georgia. We leave the Saint Mary’s inlet behind as we head into the Atlantic and turn north yet again.
The winds are predicted to be 10 to 15 knots from the east and we’re seeing 6 to 8 knots. It’s better than yesterday but not by much.
We came in through the Saint Simons inlet and were immediately inundated with flies. They’re kind of like the green heads back in New Jersey but slower and much larger. In the hour and a half from when we were besieged until we dropped the hook near the fort it was a non-stop slaughter. I spent quite a while tossing smashed flies over the side after dropping the hook. I lost count at about 170 victims of Christy’s “Swatter of Doom”. Thankfully as quickly as they had come, they disappeared, we didn’t even have mosquitoes. On the VHF I heard some guy explaining that the fly is the Georgia State Bird and that a Georgia man’s favorite cologne is Off
During the day we are visited by a pair of Finches. We were about 7 miles off and they landed on the boat and stayed for about 4 hours. The male was exceptionally brave and came into the cockpit for a couple of minutes about every ten minutes.
The dogs were really surprising as they weren’t interested in the birds at all. In fact several times as the birds traipsed through the cockpit they walked across both dogs.
We got to Fort Fredericka a few hours before sunset so we went over to Bedazzled for sundowners then we all took the dogs to shore together. Rick and Linda are traveling with their dog Kirby the wonder dog. We had the park to ourselves so we were able to let the dogs run free for an hour as we walked around the park. The fort is part of a state park that’s very remote so there’s hardly ever anyone here. This place is really very nice and anyone planning to pass through this area should consider this place a must see.
The winds are predicted to be 10 to 15 knots from the east and we’re seeing 6 to 8 knots. It’s better than yesterday but not by much.
We came in through the Saint Simons inlet and were immediately inundated with flies. They’re kind of like the green heads back in New Jersey but slower and much larger. In the hour and a half from when we were besieged until we dropped the hook near the fort it was a non-stop slaughter. I spent quite a while tossing smashed flies over the side after dropping the hook. I lost count at about 170 victims of Christy’s “Swatter of Doom”. Thankfully as quickly as they had come, they disappeared, we didn’t even have mosquitoes. On the VHF I heard some guy explaining that the fly is the Georgia State Bird and that a Georgia man’s favorite cologne is Off
During the day we are visited by a pair of Finches. We were about 7 miles off and they landed on the boat and stayed for about 4 hours. The male was exceptionally brave and came into the cockpit for a couple of minutes about every ten minutes.
The dogs were really surprising as they weren’t interested in the birds at all. In fact several times as the birds traipsed through the cockpit they walked across both dogs.
We got to Fort Fredericka a few hours before sunset so we went over to Bedazzled for sundowners then we all took the dogs to shore together. Rick and Linda are traveling with their dog Kirby the wonder dog. We had the park to ourselves so we were able to let the dogs run free for an hour as we walked around the park. The fort is part of a state park that’s very remote so there’s hardly ever anyone here. This place is really very nice and anyone planning to pass through this area should consider this place a must see.
May 2nd
May 2nd. We’re underway again and we’ve picked up another buddy boat. Rick and Linda own a 41 foot catamaran christened “Bedazzled”. This is their first year living on their boat and they will be traveling with us as far as Beaufort, South Carolina.
We left Saint Augustine at 0730 and headed out the inlet and into the ocean. The trip to Fernandina Beach was about 55 miles with 50 of it out in the ocean. The forecast was for 10 to 15 knots of wind out of the east and as we turned north we got 4 knots from the northwest. Stupid weathermen. It was an entire day of motor sailing with the wind finally clocking around to the east after lunch. The winds did build later in the day to almost 6 knots. There are large brush fires in southern Georgia and as the winds clocked from west through north to east the smoke over the land was something to see. We were only 5 miles off and everything on shore was hidden in a blanket of smoke.
Fernandina Beach has just put in a mooring field where we had anchored 5 months ago. Its only 15 dollars a night and that includes dinghy dockage and the use of the showers if you desire.
The town is really nice and a 30 minute walk down Main Street and back yields a lot to see. On the other hand though, when you’re in the anchorage the shoreline is dominated by 2 huge industrial complexes. One manufactures noise and filth while the other one produces stench and pollution. I think they’re some type of paper mills but what a pall of unhealthiness they cast over this beautiful little town. We were sitting in the cockpit after sundown when Christy said “let’s go below, I feel like we’re catching cancer”. When we got up the boat was covered in dew, filthy dew. The boat was covered in grime, it was disgusting. The town is really nice but we’ll never be back.
We left Saint Augustine at 0730 and headed out the inlet and into the ocean. The trip to Fernandina Beach was about 55 miles with 50 of it out in the ocean. The forecast was for 10 to 15 knots of wind out of the east and as we turned north we got 4 knots from the northwest. Stupid weathermen. It was an entire day of motor sailing with the wind finally clocking around to the east after lunch. The winds did build later in the day to almost 6 knots. There are large brush fires in southern Georgia and as the winds clocked from west through north to east the smoke over the land was something to see. We were only 5 miles off and everything on shore was hidden in a blanket of smoke.
Fernandina Beach has just put in a mooring field where we had anchored 5 months ago. Its only 15 dollars a night and that includes dinghy dockage and the use of the showers if you desire.
The town is really nice and a 30 minute walk down Main Street and back yields a lot to see. On the other hand though, when you’re in the anchorage the shoreline is dominated by 2 huge industrial complexes. One manufactures noise and filth while the other one produces stench and pollution. I think they’re some type of paper mills but what a pall of unhealthiness they cast over this beautiful little town. We were sitting in the cockpit after sundown when Christy said “let’s go below, I feel like we’re catching cancer”. When we got up the boat was covered in dew, filthy dew. The boat was covered in grime, it was disgusting. The town is really nice but we’ll never be back.
April 29
April 29. Having Christy’s parents and her brother and his wife visiting us for a couple of days was bloody good fun. We’ve done a ton of walking around town.
We took the tour through Flagler College. The building was finished in 1887 by the railroad baron Henry Flagler. It was originally the Ponce de Leon Hotel. It was the most expensive and opulent resort hotel of its day. There are 2, 4000 gallon water towers that provided hot and cold running water. There is also a separate building that housed 4 giant dynamos’ that provided electricity for the new fangled incandescent lighting. Both of these modern conveniences were unheard of at that time.
Thomas Edison himself built and installed the power plant to run the lighting. The hotel was only open January through March and rooms were between 6 and 90 dollars a night. The only catch was that if you wanted a room you had to rent it for the entire season. The dining room could seat 700 people and each table had it own waiter. This dining hall is used by the student body today but much to their dismay they have to carry their own food trays.
A young designer named Louis Tiffany designed most of the furniture and his new company installed over 70 stained glass windows. Today those windows are insured for about 30 million dollars. The place is absolutely beautiful, carved wood, imported marble, inlaid tiles and hand painted ceilings, nothing but the best.
On Monday we all went for a ride on the boat. We were out for 3 or 4 hours with only a wisp of wind moving us along. I saw what I thought was a jelly fish and as we moved closer I realized it was a message in a bottle. We turned around and scooped the bottle up. It was sealed with wax melted over the cork. Inside was a picture and address of a young couple that had gotten married 2 days earlier and had thrown the bottle into the sea as part of their new lives together. We’ll write to them and tell them we found it.
It was good to see everyone, I learned a lot, no animals were injured, I got soap and nobody was forced to shave.
We took the tour through Flagler College. The building was finished in 1887 by the railroad baron Henry Flagler. It was originally the Ponce de Leon Hotel. It was the most expensive and opulent resort hotel of its day. There are 2, 4000 gallon water towers that provided hot and cold running water. There is also a separate building that housed 4 giant dynamos’ that provided electricity for the new fangled incandescent lighting. Both of these modern conveniences were unheard of at that time.
Thomas Edison himself built and installed the power plant to run the lighting. The hotel was only open January through March and rooms were between 6 and 90 dollars a night. The only catch was that if you wanted a room you had to rent it for the entire season. The dining room could seat 700 people and each table had it own waiter. This dining hall is used by the student body today but much to their dismay they have to carry their own food trays.
A young designer named Louis Tiffany designed most of the furniture and his new company installed over 70 stained glass windows. Today those windows are insured for about 30 million dollars. The place is absolutely beautiful, carved wood, imported marble, inlaid tiles and hand painted ceilings, nothing but the best.
On Monday we all went for a ride on the boat. We were out for 3 or 4 hours with only a wisp of wind moving us along. I saw what I thought was a jelly fish and as we moved closer I realized it was a message in a bottle. We turned around and scooped the bottle up. It was sealed with wax melted over the cork. Inside was a picture and address of a young couple that had gotten married 2 days earlier and had thrown the bottle into the sea as part of their new lives together. We’ll write to them and tell them we found it.
It was good to see everyone, I learned a lot, no animals were injured, I got soap and nobody was forced to shave.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
April 22. Today we left our private little pond just south of New Smyrna Beach and headed north towards Saint Augustine. We’ve decided to stop just short of Saint Augustine and wait until Tuesday the 24th before we arrive.
Christy’s parents and her brother and sister-in-law are all meeting us there so we’ve reserved a slip starting on the 24th. We thought we’d arrive close to the 24th and anchor nearby rather than anchor in the craziness of Saint Augustine itself.
We had picked a few places that we thought looked interesting to spend the night and as we arrived at each one we discounted them as being undesirable for one reason or another. Finally when we got the last one it was just right.
We’re only 2 miles from Saint Augustine and are on the inside of a bend in the ICW. There’s a shallow area between us and the boats traveling the ICW so they can’t come plowing through the anchorage. There’s only one narrow entrance into an area of 8 to 15 feet of water
We are well aware that by traveling on a Sunday that we’re breaking one of the cardinal rules of cruising Florida, Stay Where You Are On The Weekends. We got overtaken by some type of Sea Ray fest. At least a dozen of every different size, all traveling together one after another, wide open in a canal 60 yards wide. There’s barely any breeze and the tranquil surface becomes a confused sea with 5 foot white water coming from every direction in moments. The wakes are so big that there actually bouncing off the sides of the canal and coming back at you again. It wasn’t really that bad for us but there were little bass boats, bow riders and oh my god you should see what that does to a pontoon boat. We could actually see the entire bottom of pontoon boats as they were twisted and tossed. An hour later we ran into the same group as they returned back down river reeking havoc on any unfortunates in their path.
Speaking of pontoon boats, they’re everywhere here. It’s like golf carts in a retirement community. Families, fishermen and retirees all out and about enjoying the water. Also very popular here are the backyard boatlifts. Nobody has their boat in the water in their backyard. The wakes from passing boats would reduce their boat to scrap in no time.
The trip here today was very nice. We started out motoring in about 4 knots of wind. We came around a corner and there was a sailboat ahead of us with his main up so even though there wasn’t much room to maneuver we threw ours up as well. We picked up a third of a knot in boat speed and were slowly gaining on them. The wind picked up ever so little and up went their genoa. It was still to light and fluky for us to raise ours but we were continuing to gain on them. Then I realized it was the Germans.
THE GERMANS. Just before dark on our last night at anchor in our private pond a beautiful sailboat ghosted past. It’s a very sleek craft with virtually no freeboard and long overhangs. The thing just looks like speed. The boat is without a motor of any kind. The Germans, Hans and Franz, (humor me) have to sail through every tight spot, against any adverse current and through every bridge. We can hear the bridge tenders all having fits trying to determine “if the sailboat approaching from the south would like an opening”. They must not speak too much English as they never acknowledge the bridge tenders until they’re right at the bridge and it sounds something like, “bridge openzie sailboat yah”.
So anyway, we’re both fighting another head current moving along at a little less than 6 knots. Except we’re motor sailing and they’re under sail power alone. We are right behind them when we enter a wider body of water rather than the breeze killing canals we’ve been transiting. There’s still only a narrow channel but there’s enough water around to allow some wind to build to 8 or 9 knots. I decided to pass them on the low side since they were only sailing, I didn’t want to steal their wind. Of course, the half knot advantage in speed we had was gone as soon as we sailed into their lee. Now we’re committed to passing and are both doing exactly the same speed so we unroll our genoa and pick up enough speed to get by. The wind continued to build and by the time we got to our chosen anchorage we’re doing close to 8 knots under sail. We passed several sailboats and even managed to overtake a trawler.
The late day course was a winding affair so it was tough to keep the genoa filled as the path turned left and right. So it was a day of put it up, take it down. It’s amazing how gratifying an extra knot here or there can be.
We were sitting at anchor with PAC’s and got to watch as the Germans once again slid past in the diminishing breeze of the early evening.
Boat Name of the Day. Its not really a boat name but we were passed by 8 Grady Whites full of old people. They were evidently on their way to a marina for a luncheon and when they arrived they hailed the marina and announced that the Grady Bunch was there. Grady Bunch………I thought it was funny.
Christy’s parents and her brother and sister-in-law are all meeting us there so we’ve reserved a slip starting on the 24th. We thought we’d arrive close to the 24th and anchor nearby rather than anchor in the craziness of Saint Augustine itself.
We had picked a few places that we thought looked interesting to spend the night and as we arrived at each one we discounted them as being undesirable for one reason or another. Finally when we got the last one it was just right.
We’re only 2 miles from Saint Augustine and are on the inside of a bend in the ICW. There’s a shallow area between us and the boats traveling the ICW so they can’t come plowing through the anchorage. There’s only one narrow entrance into an area of 8 to 15 feet of water
We are well aware that by traveling on a Sunday that we’re breaking one of the cardinal rules of cruising Florida, Stay Where You Are On The Weekends. We got overtaken by some type of Sea Ray fest. At least a dozen of every different size, all traveling together one after another, wide open in a canal 60 yards wide. There’s barely any breeze and the tranquil surface becomes a confused sea with 5 foot white water coming from every direction in moments. The wakes are so big that there actually bouncing off the sides of the canal and coming back at you again. It wasn’t really that bad for us but there were little bass boats, bow riders and oh my god you should see what that does to a pontoon boat. We could actually see the entire bottom of pontoon boats as they were twisted and tossed. An hour later we ran into the same group as they returned back down river reeking havoc on any unfortunates in their path.
Speaking of pontoon boats, they’re everywhere here. It’s like golf carts in a retirement community. Families, fishermen and retirees all out and about enjoying the water. Also very popular here are the backyard boatlifts. Nobody has their boat in the water in their backyard. The wakes from passing boats would reduce their boat to scrap in no time.
The trip here today was very nice. We started out motoring in about 4 knots of wind. We came around a corner and there was a sailboat ahead of us with his main up so even though there wasn’t much room to maneuver we threw ours up as well. We picked up a third of a knot in boat speed and were slowly gaining on them. The wind picked up ever so little and up went their genoa. It was still to light and fluky for us to raise ours but we were continuing to gain on them. Then I realized it was the Germans.
THE GERMANS. Just before dark on our last night at anchor in our private pond a beautiful sailboat ghosted past. It’s a very sleek craft with virtually no freeboard and long overhangs. The thing just looks like speed. The boat is without a motor of any kind. The Germans, Hans and Franz, (humor me) have to sail through every tight spot, against any adverse current and through every bridge. We can hear the bridge tenders all having fits trying to determine “if the sailboat approaching from the south would like an opening”. They must not speak too much English as they never acknowledge the bridge tenders until they’re right at the bridge and it sounds something like, “bridge openzie sailboat yah”.
So anyway, we’re both fighting another head current moving along at a little less than 6 knots. Except we’re motor sailing and they’re under sail power alone. We are right behind them when we enter a wider body of water rather than the breeze killing canals we’ve been transiting. There’s still only a narrow channel but there’s enough water around to allow some wind to build to 8 or 9 knots. I decided to pass them on the low side since they were only sailing, I didn’t want to steal their wind. Of course, the half knot advantage in speed we had was gone as soon as we sailed into their lee. Now we’re committed to passing and are both doing exactly the same speed so we unroll our genoa and pick up enough speed to get by. The wind continued to build and by the time we got to our chosen anchorage we’re doing close to 8 knots under sail. We passed several sailboats and even managed to overtake a trawler.
The late day course was a winding affair so it was tough to keep the genoa filled as the path turned left and right. So it was a day of put it up, take it down. It’s amazing how gratifying an extra knot here or there can be.
We were sitting at anchor with PAC’s and got to watch as the Germans once again slid past in the diminishing breeze of the early evening.
Boat Name of the Day. Its not really a boat name but we were passed by 8 Grady Whites full of old people. They were evidently on their way to a marina for a luncheon and when they arrived they hailed the marina and announced that the Grady Bunch was there. Grady Bunch………I thought it was funny.
April 21. We got up and got underway from Vero Beach about 0800. Our planned stop for the night is to be about 38 miles north in Melbourne where we had stopped on our way down.
Our trip north was a day of motoring dead to windward, 15 to 20 knots of wind right in our face. We did make excellent time though so instead of stopping we continued on for another 15 miles to the town of Cocoa Beach. With the wind out of the north and expected to swing to the east we decided to anchor in the lee of a large fixed bridge. There were already 15 boats there but true to our recent promise to each other we squirmed through the anchorage and dropped the hook in 12 feet of water in front of everybody as the furthest boat to the north.
There was a boat ramp 200 yards away so it was an excellent place to take the dogs. As I was returning to the boat in the morning 2 other boats were just leaving the anchorage so it looks as if we’ll have company heading north.
They had about a 45 minute head start on us. When I got back to the boat Christy was ready to depart and we noted that the wind was now from the west southwest at about 10 knots so it looked as if the sails would be the choice for the day and hopefully the adverse current we were to face wouldn’t cost us too much distance on the day. By the time I had checked the fluids, hauled and stored the dinghy motor, hung the dinghy in its spot in the davits and started to raise the anchor the wind had backed around to the north northwest. Crap.
Getting underway we decided to raise the main and try some motor sailing in the moderate 7 to 12 knot headwinds, I figured we should do anything we could to over come the tide running against us. We could hear the 2 boats ahead of us conversing on the VHF and they were talking about boat speeds around 5.7 knots. Our speed was 5.9 and when we caught little puffs of wind we would jump to 6.3 every now and then. We had the main sheeted tight and ever so slowly gained ground on the boats ahead of us.
After 20 miles or so our wind died just as we caught up to the slower of the 2 boats while the other slipped away through a well timed bridge opening. After the boat, El Rio, and we passed through the Haulover Canal Bridge things quickly went to hell in a hand basket. We still had the full main up and now the breeze was starting to freshen from the northeast. We were moving almost a full knot quicker than they were so we soon passed and put some distance between us.
The winds quickly built to a steady 25 knots and we were fighting the tide and now a building head sea in the confines of a very narrow channel. The water on the left side of the channel was about a foot deep and the bottom was readily apparent. On the right side was 4 to 7 feet deep so we hugged that side of the channel as we clawed our way forward sometimes as slow as 4 knots. We were quickly leaving El Rio behind. So even though we were sailing so close to the wind I wasn’t about to take the sail down. It would have been a tremendous gamble to try and drop the sail as for us to do this we have to head straight up into the wind so the sail doesn’t hang up in the Lazy Jacks. Visibility had deteriorated to such a level that visual navigation was difficult as there was so much spray in the air. Picking out the channel markers was only doable with the binoculars. I don’t think the channel is 30 or 40 yards wide so turning just a few degrees to get up on the wind was out of the question unless absolutely necessary.
After 2 hours we were clear of the Mosquito Lagoon and behind some land which flattened the seas out. After another 30 minutes our course had put us right into the wind so we dropped the sail and motored into beautiful clear skies and fading wind. Better late than never. With an hour to go before our arrival we started to see the tidal flow change in our favor.
We had previewed 3 different anchorages where we thought we might like to spend the night. We passed on the first anchorage as the entrance is unmarked and looks a bit sketchy. The second has several shoals and had more than a few boats in the already overcrowded waters. I nixed the third spot without actually seeing it as it was unprotected from the northeast and the wind was supposed to blow 20 or better from that direction at night. So after seeing the second anchorage I turned the boat around and headed back a mile or so to our first possibility.
The charts and the chartplotter both showed a 7 foot deep narrow passage into an area of 14 feet of water. On paper this spot is protected from all sides with shoreline within 100 yards on 3 sides. When we approached the entrance channel it was easy to see that it simply wasn’t there. There was a visible underwater shoal across the charted entrance. To the north was a small island and off to the south there was some water that looked deeper although not according to the charts.
We were pretty much stuck with no good place to spend the night so we crept forward at about 2 and a half knots. I steered for the deepest looking water while Christy sat glued to the depth sounder as we hugged the shoreline. She called out the numbers and after about 200 yards with the chartplotter having a stroke we started to see a pocket of deeper water where the charts said it would be.
So here we sit nestled in among the mangroves. We can see the ICW from the boat but nobody else has tried to get into “our” spot. Last night the wind did howl but with the wall of 10 foot mangroves all around us we were snug in our calm little pond.
This spot is so nice that we decided not to leave today. We dinghied into town and found an eclectic little main street. The office supply place had the owner’s collection of vintage typewriters and adding machines displayed in the front window. It turned out to be a recurring theme as the appliance store had an icebox and a gas stove from the forties prominently on display. The town was more than a little sleepy, especially for a Saturday although we did find an excellent farmers market.
Our little pond is on a preferred route for the local fishermen in their 20 foot bass boats. They wiz by and disappear into the mangrove streams behind us. So I figured when in Rome…… Anyone who knows me knows that fishing and I are like oil and water. Never done it and don’t really care too. We brought along a pole and a rudimentary tackle box because it seemed like the thing to do. So anyway, I tie on a sinker and hook, load it up with roast beef and promptly catch a decent sized crab. Every offering after that my bait is stolen by the little crab bastards on the bottom. Okay, so I gotta get the bait up off the bottom and I’m switching to Canadian bacon.
I don’t have a bobber in the tackle box so I take one of those floating key chain things and transform it into a bobber. Now with just my hook and bobber I can’t get the drag set properly to allow me to cast. To tight and I fling it nowhere and too loose and it results in a giant bird nest of line. It may have something to do with the pole and reel being out on the radar arch in the rain, sun and salt for the last 6 months. I dunno, remember I’m no fisherman. Anyway, now I tie a small sinker to the “bobber” to give me some weight for flingin’. So I get a pretty decent cast out and let the tide take my offering further from the boat. I’m sitting reading my book when I realize that I can’t see the bobber anymore.
I pick up the rod and reel in a 15 inch Catfish. Might be enough for one of us and there’s no chance I’m getting another one so I set him free. I rebait the hook, fling it back out there, pick up the book and you know what happens next. Yup, another one, well I let the other one go so I kick this one loose as well. Hell, we’re not even sure you can eat these things anyway. Christy goes below and gets our fish identification book out. Turns out that they were both Topsailgaff Catfish, the book points out that their excellent eating. Crap. On the bright side though, turning them loose was the right thing to do as I’ve never caught a fish before let alone cleaned one. So below Christy goes and gets another book (the library is bigger than I thought) that explains the whole cleaning process. In the Catfish section, the Topsailgaff Catfish is used as an example because their such good eating. Good grief. Stupid fishing.
Our trip north was a day of motoring dead to windward, 15 to 20 knots of wind right in our face. We did make excellent time though so instead of stopping we continued on for another 15 miles to the town of Cocoa Beach. With the wind out of the north and expected to swing to the east we decided to anchor in the lee of a large fixed bridge. There were already 15 boats there but true to our recent promise to each other we squirmed through the anchorage and dropped the hook in 12 feet of water in front of everybody as the furthest boat to the north.
There was a boat ramp 200 yards away so it was an excellent place to take the dogs. As I was returning to the boat in the morning 2 other boats were just leaving the anchorage so it looks as if we’ll have company heading north.
They had about a 45 minute head start on us. When I got back to the boat Christy was ready to depart and we noted that the wind was now from the west southwest at about 10 knots so it looked as if the sails would be the choice for the day and hopefully the adverse current we were to face wouldn’t cost us too much distance on the day. By the time I had checked the fluids, hauled and stored the dinghy motor, hung the dinghy in its spot in the davits and started to raise the anchor the wind had backed around to the north northwest. Crap.
Getting underway we decided to raise the main and try some motor sailing in the moderate 7 to 12 knot headwinds, I figured we should do anything we could to over come the tide running against us. We could hear the 2 boats ahead of us conversing on the VHF and they were talking about boat speeds around 5.7 knots. Our speed was 5.9 and when we caught little puffs of wind we would jump to 6.3 every now and then. We had the main sheeted tight and ever so slowly gained ground on the boats ahead of us.
After 20 miles or so our wind died just as we caught up to the slower of the 2 boats while the other slipped away through a well timed bridge opening. After the boat, El Rio, and we passed through the Haulover Canal Bridge things quickly went to hell in a hand basket. We still had the full main up and now the breeze was starting to freshen from the northeast. We were moving almost a full knot quicker than they were so we soon passed and put some distance between us.
The winds quickly built to a steady 25 knots and we were fighting the tide and now a building head sea in the confines of a very narrow channel. The water on the left side of the channel was about a foot deep and the bottom was readily apparent. On the right side was 4 to 7 feet deep so we hugged that side of the channel as we clawed our way forward sometimes as slow as 4 knots. We were quickly leaving El Rio behind. So even though we were sailing so close to the wind I wasn’t about to take the sail down. It would have been a tremendous gamble to try and drop the sail as for us to do this we have to head straight up into the wind so the sail doesn’t hang up in the Lazy Jacks. Visibility had deteriorated to such a level that visual navigation was difficult as there was so much spray in the air. Picking out the channel markers was only doable with the binoculars. I don’t think the channel is 30 or 40 yards wide so turning just a few degrees to get up on the wind was out of the question unless absolutely necessary.
After 2 hours we were clear of the Mosquito Lagoon and behind some land which flattened the seas out. After another 30 minutes our course had put us right into the wind so we dropped the sail and motored into beautiful clear skies and fading wind. Better late than never. With an hour to go before our arrival we started to see the tidal flow change in our favor.
We had previewed 3 different anchorages where we thought we might like to spend the night. We passed on the first anchorage as the entrance is unmarked and looks a bit sketchy. The second has several shoals and had more than a few boats in the already overcrowded waters. I nixed the third spot without actually seeing it as it was unprotected from the northeast and the wind was supposed to blow 20 or better from that direction at night. So after seeing the second anchorage I turned the boat around and headed back a mile or so to our first possibility.
The charts and the chartplotter both showed a 7 foot deep narrow passage into an area of 14 feet of water. On paper this spot is protected from all sides with shoreline within 100 yards on 3 sides. When we approached the entrance channel it was easy to see that it simply wasn’t there. There was a visible underwater shoal across the charted entrance. To the north was a small island and off to the south there was some water that looked deeper although not according to the charts.
We were pretty much stuck with no good place to spend the night so we crept forward at about 2 and a half knots. I steered for the deepest looking water while Christy sat glued to the depth sounder as we hugged the shoreline. She called out the numbers and after about 200 yards with the chartplotter having a stroke we started to see a pocket of deeper water where the charts said it would be.
So here we sit nestled in among the mangroves. We can see the ICW from the boat but nobody else has tried to get into “our” spot. Last night the wind did howl but with the wall of 10 foot mangroves all around us we were snug in our calm little pond.
This spot is so nice that we decided not to leave today. We dinghied into town and found an eclectic little main street. The office supply place had the owner’s collection of vintage typewriters and adding machines displayed in the front window. It turned out to be a recurring theme as the appliance store had an icebox and a gas stove from the forties prominently on display. The town was more than a little sleepy, especially for a Saturday although we did find an excellent farmers market.
Our little pond is on a preferred route for the local fishermen in their 20 foot bass boats. They wiz by and disappear into the mangrove streams behind us. So I figured when in Rome…… Anyone who knows me knows that fishing and I are like oil and water. Never done it and don’t really care too. We brought along a pole and a rudimentary tackle box because it seemed like the thing to do. So anyway, I tie on a sinker and hook, load it up with roast beef and promptly catch a decent sized crab. Every offering after that my bait is stolen by the little crab bastards on the bottom. Okay, so I gotta get the bait up off the bottom and I’m switching to Canadian bacon.
I don’t have a bobber in the tackle box so I take one of those floating key chain things and transform it into a bobber. Now with just my hook and bobber I can’t get the drag set properly to allow me to cast. To tight and I fling it nowhere and too loose and it results in a giant bird nest of line. It may have something to do with the pole and reel being out on the radar arch in the rain, sun and salt for the last 6 months. I dunno, remember I’m no fisherman. Anyway, now I tie a small sinker to the “bobber” to give me some weight for flingin’. So I get a pretty decent cast out and let the tide take my offering further from the boat. I’m sitting reading my book when I realize that I can’t see the bobber anymore.
I pick up the rod and reel in a 15 inch Catfish. Might be enough for one of us and there’s no chance I’m getting another one so I set him free. I rebait the hook, fling it back out there, pick up the book and you know what happens next. Yup, another one, well I let the other one go so I kick this one loose as well. Hell, we’re not even sure you can eat these things anyway. Christy goes below and gets our fish identification book out. Turns out that they were both Topsailgaff Catfish, the book points out that their excellent eating. Crap. On the bright side though, turning them loose was the right thing to do as I’ve never caught a fish before let alone cleaned one. So below Christy goes and gets another book (the library is bigger than I thought) that explains the whole cleaning process. In the Catfish section, the Topsailgaff Catfish is used as an example because their such good eating. Good grief. Stupid fishing.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
April 14
April 14. When last I left you we had just survived the night from hell as all the boats around us had broken free and dragged during the night. I got to bed at 0430 and now its 0800. I was awakened by the sound of the boat behind us using his windlass to hoist his anchor.
We had planned to spend the day here enjoying the oceanfront with the dogs. We’ve awakened to a wet dismal day with more rain in the forecast. We make the decision to get underway for Vero Beach as I can’t take the chance of another night with very little sleep. I take the dogs to shore and it starts to rain. When I get back Christy dries the dogs as best as can be done while I pull the dinghy up onto the davits for the days trip.
Once we’re all ready for the trip we haul the anchor with Christy at the wheel in the building rain. After we’re underway I go below and change into dry clothes and start our trip north. It’s only a 40 mile trip north with a half dozen bridges to negotiate. After 30 miles we’re able to catch up to the boats that left an hour before us. Oh, and the sun has come out.
Once we arrive at Vero Beach we hit the fuel dock for 45 gallons of diesel and over a hundred gallons of water. We’re sent to a ball that has a 40 foot Island Trader on it. We rafted up with no problem and were set for the night.
We’ve been here for a week now and things have been good. The free bus system here is very handy so getting to any store you’d like is no problem. They also have a nice laundry mat here on site so laundry isn’t too bad to take care of either.
Christy’s brother and his wife were in the neighborhood so we got to spend a bit of an afternoon with them on Saturday. Things are pretty nice here so we’ll probably stay here until the 20th or so as we have to be in Saint Augustine by the 26th to meet Christy’s parental units.
We had planned to spend the day here enjoying the oceanfront with the dogs. We’ve awakened to a wet dismal day with more rain in the forecast. We make the decision to get underway for Vero Beach as I can’t take the chance of another night with very little sleep. I take the dogs to shore and it starts to rain. When I get back Christy dries the dogs as best as can be done while I pull the dinghy up onto the davits for the days trip.
Once we’re all ready for the trip we haul the anchor with Christy at the wheel in the building rain. After we’re underway I go below and change into dry clothes and start our trip north. It’s only a 40 mile trip north with a half dozen bridges to negotiate. After 30 miles we’re able to catch up to the boats that left an hour before us. Oh, and the sun has come out.
Once we arrive at Vero Beach we hit the fuel dock for 45 gallons of diesel and over a hundred gallons of water. We’re sent to a ball that has a 40 foot Island Trader on it. We rafted up with no problem and were set for the night.
We’ve been here for a week now and things have been good. The free bus system here is very handy so getting to any store you’d like is no problem. They also have a nice laundry mat here on site so laundry isn’t too bad to take care of either.
Christy’s brother and his wife were in the neighborhood so we got to spend a bit of an afternoon with them on Saturday. Things are pretty nice here so we’ll probably stay here until the 20th or so as we have to be in Saint Augustine by the 26th to meet Christy’s parental units.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
April 5 & 6
April 5th was nothing special. We stayed the day in Lake Worth so we could have the dogs groomed. On the way down Christy found a groomer that did a really nice job on Molly & Tucker so we wanted to hit that place again. We spent the rest of the day shopping and hitting the local West Marine.
April 6th on the other hand was a day and a half, literally. We only have a 4 hour run to get to our next stop which was to be Peck Lake. So we got up when we wanted and took the dogs to shore together. Christy walked the dogs along the roadside while I walked a bag of garbage down the street to the dumpster behind Publix.
On my way back the traffic is backed up from down where we tied up the dinghy all the way to me close to half mile away. I can’t see what the problem is but my mind is working overtime, I’m sure one of the dogs slipped their collar and ran into the road or some dipshit on a cell phone drifted off the roadway and ran over my family. So I start to run down there and as I’m getting closer I see a group of people gathered around someone on the grass next to the road. Finally, mercifully, I can see Christy and the dogs are part of the group tending to a downed bicycle rider. Good I thought, an ambulance will be here shortly because I may need it as I’ve just run further than I have in 20 years.
Christy greets me with a giant hug and she’s shaking and quite upset. It seems she and the dogs were walking along the side of the road and just as the bicyclist went past he was run over by a passing car. She was the first person to his side and had to keep him on the ground as he was trying to get up. He never lost consciousness but was in pretty bad shape. The skin was gone from both his knees and his hands and he was missing the tip of one of his fingers. He had a lump about the size of half a tennis ball on his forehead, his helmet never came off, it probably saved his life.
It took between 10 minutes and an eternity for the EMT’s to arrive. Once he was in professional care we took the dinghy and went back to the boat. As we were preparing to weigh anchor we watched a helicopter land at the scene of the accident and take the cyclist away to the hospital.
The ride to Peck Lake was a short motor of about 20 miles with about 6 bridges to open along the way. The trip was uneventful and went quickly.
Peck Lake shows up as a wide spot along the ICW on the charts. According to the charts there’s only a foot or two if you leave the channel. Our Skipper Bob’s Guide Book tells of an unmarked channel into the unmarked anchorage. The big attraction is the fact that once anchored you only have a short 50 yard walk across some dunes to the beachfront on the Atlantic Ocean.
When we got there it was fairly crowded and the best spot for us to anchor was right in the middle of everyone. While dropping the hook the sailboat to our starboard waved hello while the powerboater on our port put on his bitch wings. I used the classic bitch wing counter by yelling over “how much scope do you have out”. He replied “50 feet” and went back inside. Not enough scope for the 12 feet of water but the question did counter the bitch wings.
We were able to put out 65 feet of chain and set the anchor as always. We stayed on the boat and had PAC’s and watched the boats behind us come in and find spots. It was a very lovely evening but some ominus looking clouds rolled in late from the north. Christy had gone to bed and I was trip reporting when the wind started to build to a steady 20 knots. I went up to look around and heard anchor chain rattling. One of the late arrivals had already dragged down onto a small trawler and was busy resetting his anchor.
So now I’m sitting in the cockpit watching all the boats to windward of us. I’m starting to get the impression that the bitch wing guy, who’s now swung almost in front of us on our starboard bow, may be starting to drag ever so slowly. Its pitch dark and all the boats are dancing wildly at anchor so it’s difficult to judge who’s doing what. I know he’s only got 50 feet out so I’m a little concerned about him.
All of a sudden the small trawler off our port bow breaks free of the bottom so at 0130 I blast our air horn to alert the captain and everybody else for a mile. He must have been up and keeping watch also because he had the engine running in 30 seconds. He had started out anchored 60 yards off our port bow and was 2 boat lengths behind us by the time he had the engines running and started to haul in his anchor. He had passed between us and the sailboat off our port side with astonishing velocity. He reanchored a lot closer to us this time but did a good job and stayed put for the night.
Bitch wing guy, not so much. It’s been 3 hours now and the wind is between 18 and 24 knots and he’s definitely moving ever so slowly backwards. He started out a little ahead of us and then abreast and now he’s safely behind us. Unless of course you’re on the boat that’s been behind us. Its almost 0330 and I can see lights in the cockpit of the Morgan that’s behind us. Finally he gets out his million candle power spotlight and is shinning it into the stern ports of the dragging powerboat. I’m using our spotlight to shine into his vee berth ports. When their only about 30 feet apart the Morgan captain uses his air horn. Finally the woman on board comes out into the cockpit, looks around and goes back inside. I figure that they’ll be up and start their engines any moment. But noooo, she went back to bed! After 5 minutes Morgan guy lays into the horn while we’re both spotlighting the powerboat. The “captain” comes on deck, fist clenched posturing like a tough guy. He really thinks we’re just messing with him or something, he’s got no clue. He’s just staring at us, finally I scream at the top of my lungs “You’re dragging down on these people behind you Captain!” Sarcasm was properly placed on the Captain part. He does sort of a triple take, wakes from his tough guy fog and starts to run around to get underway so they can reanchor, dumbass.
After they go off into a corner behind us the wind starts to abate and once it’s down to 10 to 15 and everyone seems to be staying put I retire for the evening at 0430. Oh yeah, it was also raining the entire time, perfect.
What we learned: Whenever big winds have rolled through, predicted or not, it’s always been from a northerly direction. When we arrived in this anchorage there was a light wind from the east blowing and nothing else predicted. Christy and I made a pact to always aggressively seek out the northern most spot in any anchorage we visit from now on.
Dictionary reminder: PAC’s……..Post Anchoring Cocktails
April 6th on the other hand was a day and a half, literally. We only have a 4 hour run to get to our next stop which was to be Peck Lake. So we got up when we wanted and took the dogs to shore together. Christy walked the dogs along the roadside while I walked a bag of garbage down the street to the dumpster behind Publix.
On my way back the traffic is backed up from down where we tied up the dinghy all the way to me close to half mile away. I can’t see what the problem is but my mind is working overtime, I’m sure one of the dogs slipped their collar and ran into the road or some dipshit on a cell phone drifted off the roadway and ran over my family. So I start to run down there and as I’m getting closer I see a group of people gathered around someone on the grass next to the road. Finally, mercifully, I can see Christy and the dogs are part of the group tending to a downed bicycle rider. Good I thought, an ambulance will be here shortly because I may need it as I’ve just run further than I have in 20 years.
Christy greets me with a giant hug and she’s shaking and quite upset. It seems she and the dogs were walking along the side of the road and just as the bicyclist went past he was run over by a passing car. She was the first person to his side and had to keep him on the ground as he was trying to get up. He never lost consciousness but was in pretty bad shape. The skin was gone from both his knees and his hands and he was missing the tip of one of his fingers. He had a lump about the size of half a tennis ball on his forehead, his helmet never came off, it probably saved his life.
It took between 10 minutes and an eternity for the EMT’s to arrive. Once he was in professional care we took the dinghy and went back to the boat. As we were preparing to weigh anchor we watched a helicopter land at the scene of the accident and take the cyclist away to the hospital.
The ride to Peck Lake was a short motor of about 20 miles with about 6 bridges to open along the way. The trip was uneventful and went quickly.
Peck Lake shows up as a wide spot along the ICW on the charts. According to the charts there’s only a foot or two if you leave the channel. Our Skipper Bob’s Guide Book tells of an unmarked channel into the unmarked anchorage. The big attraction is the fact that once anchored you only have a short 50 yard walk across some dunes to the beachfront on the Atlantic Ocean.
When we got there it was fairly crowded and the best spot for us to anchor was right in the middle of everyone. While dropping the hook the sailboat to our starboard waved hello while the powerboater on our port put on his bitch wings. I used the classic bitch wing counter by yelling over “how much scope do you have out”. He replied “50 feet” and went back inside. Not enough scope for the 12 feet of water but the question did counter the bitch wings.
We were able to put out 65 feet of chain and set the anchor as always. We stayed on the boat and had PAC’s and watched the boats behind us come in and find spots. It was a very lovely evening but some ominus looking clouds rolled in late from the north. Christy had gone to bed and I was trip reporting when the wind started to build to a steady 20 knots. I went up to look around and heard anchor chain rattling. One of the late arrivals had already dragged down onto a small trawler and was busy resetting his anchor.
So now I’m sitting in the cockpit watching all the boats to windward of us. I’m starting to get the impression that the bitch wing guy, who’s now swung almost in front of us on our starboard bow, may be starting to drag ever so slowly. Its pitch dark and all the boats are dancing wildly at anchor so it’s difficult to judge who’s doing what. I know he’s only got 50 feet out so I’m a little concerned about him.
All of a sudden the small trawler off our port bow breaks free of the bottom so at 0130 I blast our air horn to alert the captain and everybody else for a mile. He must have been up and keeping watch also because he had the engine running in 30 seconds. He had started out anchored 60 yards off our port bow and was 2 boat lengths behind us by the time he had the engines running and started to haul in his anchor. He had passed between us and the sailboat off our port side with astonishing velocity. He reanchored a lot closer to us this time but did a good job and stayed put for the night.
Bitch wing guy, not so much. It’s been 3 hours now and the wind is between 18 and 24 knots and he’s definitely moving ever so slowly backwards. He started out a little ahead of us and then abreast and now he’s safely behind us. Unless of course you’re on the boat that’s been behind us. Its almost 0330 and I can see lights in the cockpit of the Morgan that’s behind us. Finally he gets out his million candle power spotlight and is shinning it into the stern ports of the dragging powerboat. I’m using our spotlight to shine into his vee berth ports. When their only about 30 feet apart the Morgan captain uses his air horn. Finally the woman on board comes out into the cockpit, looks around and goes back inside. I figure that they’ll be up and start their engines any moment. But noooo, she went back to bed! After 5 minutes Morgan guy lays into the horn while we’re both spotlighting the powerboat. The “captain” comes on deck, fist clenched posturing like a tough guy. He really thinks we’re just messing with him or something, he’s got no clue. He’s just staring at us, finally I scream at the top of my lungs “You’re dragging down on these people behind you Captain!” Sarcasm was properly placed on the Captain part. He does sort of a triple take, wakes from his tough guy fog and starts to run around to get underway so they can reanchor, dumbass.
After they go off into a corner behind us the wind starts to abate and once it’s down to 10 to 15 and everyone seems to be staying put I retire for the evening at 0430. Oh yeah, it was also raining the entire time, perfect.
What we learned: Whenever big winds have rolled through, predicted or not, it’s always been from a northerly direction. When we arrived in this anchorage there was a light wind from the east blowing and nothing else predicted. Christy and I made a pact to always aggressively seek out the northern most spot in any anchorage we visit from now on.
Dictionary reminder: PAC’s……..Post Anchoring Cocktails
April 3
April 3. Our neighboring boat that we had dinner with last night was up and underway without making a sound. That is until they had the bridge that was 40 feet from our boat raised to allow them passage. Holy Christ. That bridge had warning bells to slow the cars before the gates came down and then a claxon to warn nearby boats that the bridge was now closing. So needless to say we were up before the alarm and on our way by 0730.
We opted to backtrack a few miles and go out the Fort Lauderdale inlet and sail north on the outside. We were under full sail by 0830 and making about six and a half knots with a beautiful sunny day unfolding before us.
As we left the inlet we had a pod of dolphin put on a spectacular show for us. They repeatedly launched themselves clear of the water. It was awesome and ended as soon as Christy picked up the camera. We also had a weird experience as a container ship was approaching the inlet as we were leaving. We saw him coming and we cut the last red mark short as we left the channel in 35 feet of water and started north. As we were putting up the sails we realized that at the last minute he turned off his approach to the channel and was starting a right hand circle towards our stern.
The picture is deceiving; he’s way closer than was comfortable for us.
Just before noon the wind started to get fluky and when we were down to less than 4 knots we started the engine and were motor sailing along at well over 7 knots. We got to the Lake Worth inlet at about 1400 and had to fight in against the last bit of the ebbing tide.
Once we were inside it was like stepping into the middle of a crowded drunken frat party. Just inside the inlet there’s a small beach only accessible by boat so it was packed with beached speed boats. Jet skis and small powerboats were whizzing this way and that coming and going. It was quite the shock after being alone in the ocean for the day.
After a 5 mile ride north on the ICW we were into the anchorage in Lake Worth that we had stayed in on our way down. We dropped the hook in 15 feet of water, deployed the dinghy, cleaned the boat and were sitting with our post anchoring cocktails when our neighbors from last night pulled in. They had left an hour earlier but had gone inside and had to deal with about 2 dozen bridges so they arrived an hour and a half after us.
Last night was one of the most beautiful at anchor and there’s been many special ones to choose from. The moon appeared from behind a vee shaped cloud and had the appearance of visibly rising as the cloud moved away from moon. It was a huge moon and wonderful to watch. A great end to a really nice day.
We opted to backtrack a few miles and go out the Fort Lauderdale inlet and sail north on the outside. We were under full sail by 0830 and making about six and a half knots with a beautiful sunny day unfolding before us.
As we left the inlet we had a pod of dolphin put on a spectacular show for us. They repeatedly launched themselves clear of the water. It was awesome and ended as soon as Christy picked up the camera. We also had a weird experience as a container ship was approaching the inlet as we were leaving. We saw him coming and we cut the last red mark short as we left the channel in 35 feet of water and started north. As we were putting up the sails we realized that at the last minute he turned off his approach to the channel and was starting a right hand circle towards our stern.
The picture is deceiving; he’s way closer than was comfortable for us.
Just before noon the wind started to get fluky and when we were down to less than 4 knots we started the engine and were motor sailing along at well over 7 knots. We got to the Lake Worth inlet at about 1400 and had to fight in against the last bit of the ebbing tide.
Once we were inside it was like stepping into the middle of a crowded drunken frat party. Just inside the inlet there’s a small beach only accessible by boat so it was packed with beached speed boats. Jet skis and small powerboats were whizzing this way and that coming and going. It was quite the shock after being alone in the ocean for the day.
After a 5 mile ride north on the ICW we were into the anchorage in Lake Worth that we had stayed in on our way down. We dropped the hook in 15 feet of water, deployed the dinghy, cleaned the boat and were sitting with our post anchoring cocktails when our neighbors from last night pulled in. They had left an hour earlier but had gone inside and had to deal with about 2 dozen bridges so they arrived an hour and a half after us.
Last night was one of the most beautiful at anchor and there’s been many special ones to choose from. The moon appeared from behind a vee shaped cloud and had the appearance of visibly rising as the cloud moved away from moon. It was a huge moon and wonderful to watch. A great end to a really nice day.
April 2
April 2. Well we forgot to set the alarm for this mornings departure. So I didn’t get into the dinghy with the dogs until 0715. I hate oversleeping, it feels as if I’m running behind for the rest of the day. Luckily the dogs felt my pain and did their best to make it a quick trip to shore.
When I got back to the boat Christy had everything ready to go as always. I checked the fluids and started the engine. Pulling the anchor turned into a bit of a scavenger hunt as we pulled up an 8 foot piece of copper tubing tangled in the anchor chain. Once I got it cleared the anchor was stowed and we were underway.
The main course out of Miami goes through a channel called Government Cut. Its here that all the cruise ships are docked. If there are 2 or more ships tied up then the Cut is closed to pleasure craft. The weekend is the usual time for the ships to be leaving port. We could see them leaving from our anchorage. Saturday we watched 5 huge cruise ships leave and then on Sunday, 4 more. When we woke up on Monday there were 2 ships parked there. Oh no! As we were just getting underway we called the Coast Guard and asked if the Cut was open and were informed that it was not. Shit.
We could have traveled a couple of miles out of the way to the south to get out into the ocean but we elected to head north in a more direct fashion along the ICW. This section is just one bridge after another.
We were getting a knot and a half push for most of the trip so it worked out better than I thought that it would. The bridges here are all on a schedule but if you can maintain about seven knots you can hit almost every bridge just right as they open. Things were going real well until we reached a bridge that was being repaired. It was 10 minutes late coming up and when it did only one side of the bridge went up. Getting through made us late for the next bridge and we were forced to circle for 20 minutes. All in all not to shabby for over a dozen bridges in a 30 mile trip.
We were able to grab a mooring ball in a small marina in Fort Lauderdale. There’s only 10 moorings and we were lucky to get there in time to grab one of the two available. We sat and watched the boats go past until dinner time. Then we went into town and had dinner with a couple we had met in passing back in Marathon. Tomorrow its out into the Atlantic and north to Lake Worth.
When I got back to the boat Christy had everything ready to go as always. I checked the fluids and started the engine. Pulling the anchor turned into a bit of a scavenger hunt as we pulled up an 8 foot piece of copper tubing tangled in the anchor chain. Once I got it cleared the anchor was stowed and we were underway.
The main course out of Miami goes through a channel called Government Cut. Its here that all the cruise ships are docked. If there are 2 or more ships tied up then the Cut is closed to pleasure craft. The weekend is the usual time for the ships to be leaving port. We could see them leaving from our anchorage. Saturday we watched 5 huge cruise ships leave and then on Sunday, 4 more. When we woke up on Monday there were 2 ships parked there. Oh no! As we were just getting underway we called the Coast Guard and asked if the Cut was open and were informed that it was not. Shit.
We could have traveled a couple of miles out of the way to the south to get out into the ocean but we elected to head north in a more direct fashion along the ICW. This section is just one bridge after another.
We were getting a knot and a half push for most of the trip so it worked out better than I thought that it would. The bridges here are all on a schedule but if you can maintain about seven knots you can hit almost every bridge just right as they open. Things were going real well until we reached a bridge that was being repaired. It was 10 minutes late coming up and when it did only one side of the bridge went up. Getting through made us late for the next bridge and we were forced to circle for 20 minutes. All in all not to shabby for over a dozen bridges in a 30 mile trip.
We were able to grab a mooring ball in a small marina in Fort Lauderdale. There’s only 10 moorings and we were lucky to get there in time to grab one of the two available. We sat and watched the boats go past until dinner time. Then we went into town and had dinner with a couple we had met in passing back in Marathon. Tomorrow its out into the Atlantic and north to Lake Worth.
March 30 & 31
March 30. As predicted the ride to shore with the dogs sucked. The wind was cranking and by the time we got back to the boat we were soaked. We hauled the anchor and were on our way from Rodriguez Key by 0830. The forecast was for 10 to 15 knots and what we got was 25 knots steady. That’s the job for me, weatherman, you don’t have to ever be right and nobody seems to care. At least they got the wind direction right.
Same thing as yesterday, motoring in big wind but with calmer 2 to 4 foot seas. After an hour we put up a reefed mainsail and then 2 hours later we shook out the reef. We were flirting with 7 knots all day and as the wind abated we were headed directly north so it turned into a pleasant beam reach.
The sail in under Cape Florida was nice as the tide had just turned and was flooding in with us. We saw 8.9 knots on the GPS. When we got into Biscayne Bay the water was FAC (flat ass calm) so it was a very nice trip up into Miami through the back door.
When we got to the Rickenbacker Causeway Bridge some little future inmates were throwing crap off the bridge at the passing boats 100 feet below. We were fortunate to escape without any damage. On the bright side though, they’ll probably get hooked on crack or heroin and die before their 20 years old. Hopefully.
We anchored in the same anchorage as we did on our way south. The current really turns with the tide here but its not that obvious to you when you anchor. The wind was still from the east with the tide trying to face us south. So when all was said and done we ended up anchored only about 40 feet from the boat next to us. That is until the wind started gusting, the tide went slack and then turned. One minute we’re 20 feet apart then we’re 60 feet away. We’re probably going to have to move in the morning but we’re good for now.
March 31. When we got up we moved the boat a little further from our neighbor and went ashore to the bank and for a walk around. When we got back to the boat we did a few boat chores and were sitting when the law pulled up to tell us about the anchoring restrictions in the area.
It was the same officer that had taken care of this paperwork the last time we came through. He was lamenting the fact that the area is overrun with idiot jet skiers. It is amazing to watch so many clueless people with so much horsepower available at the twist of their wrist. We told him that we had a celebrity encounter earlier in the day. Hulk Hogan the former professional wrestler (read that as mental midget) had come through the anchorage in his scarab at 40 or 50 knots within a few feet of anchored boats showing off for his family and friends. While the police boat is tied to our side guess who comes back. That’s right, the Hulkster. He comes within 100 feet of our boat before he’s aware of the flashing lights and blaring siren that the cop now has going. The cop motions for him to slow down and gives him the international sign for ”What are you; an idiot?) He slows way down turns around and leaves with no citation.
We did get some info from the cop that we’d been wondering about. Back in January when we were leaving this anchorage we called the Coast Guard about a group of people that we saw on a deserted island nearby. Turns out that they were “rafters” as he called them; illegal aliens that were abandoned there by the people that smuggled them into the United States. He said that some of those people had paid up to 7000 dollars apiece to be smuggled into the country. I’m think’n, where do I get some?
There was a party on shore more than 300 yards from our boat and they had the loudest sound system I’ve ever heard. Picture Springsteen playing the Meadowlands. It wouldn’t have been bad except it took more than 2 hours before I heard a song that I recognized. Thankfully it stopped at 2000 hours.
Tomorrow we’ll hit the local Pulix for liquids. We’re pretty well provisioned so far as food goes but we’ll stock up on the heavy items being this Publix is right near a dinghy dock.
Same thing as yesterday, motoring in big wind but with calmer 2 to 4 foot seas. After an hour we put up a reefed mainsail and then 2 hours later we shook out the reef. We were flirting with 7 knots all day and as the wind abated we were headed directly north so it turned into a pleasant beam reach.
The sail in under Cape Florida was nice as the tide had just turned and was flooding in with us. We saw 8.9 knots on the GPS. When we got into Biscayne Bay the water was FAC (flat ass calm) so it was a very nice trip up into Miami through the back door.
When we got to the Rickenbacker Causeway Bridge some little future inmates were throwing crap off the bridge at the passing boats 100 feet below. We were fortunate to escape without any damage. On the bright side though, they’ll probably get hooked on crack or heroin and die before their 20 years old. Hopefully.
We anchored in the same anchorage as we did on our way south. The current really turns with the tide here but its not that obvious to you when you anchor. The wind was still from the east with the tide trying to face us south. So when all was said and done we ended up anchored only about 40 feet from the boat next to us. That is until the wind started gusting, the tide went slack and then turned. One minute we’re 20 feet apart then we’re 60 feet away. We’re probably going to have to move in the morning but we’re good for now.
March 31. When we got up we moved the boat a little further from our neighbor and went ashore to the bank and for a walk around. When we got back to the boat we did a few boat chores and were sitting when the law pulled up to tell us about the anchoring restrictions in the area.
It was the same officer that had taken care of this paperwork the last time we came through. He was lamenting the fact that the area is overrun with idiot jet skiers. It is amazing to watch so many clueless people with so much horsepower available at the twist of their wrist. We told him that we had a celebrity encounter earlier in the day. Hulk Hogan the former professional wrestler (read that as mental midget) had come through the anchorage in his scarab at 40 or 50 knots within a few feet of anchored boats showing off for his family and friends. While the police boat is tied to our side guess who comes back. That’s right, the Hulkster. He comes within 100 feet of our boat before he’s aware of the flashing lights and blaring siren that the cop now has going. The cop motions for him to slow down and gives him the international sign for ”What are you; an idiot?) He slows way down turns around and leaves with no citation.
We did get some info from the cop that we’d been wondering about. Back in January when we were leaving this anchorage we called the Coast Guard about a group of people that we saw on a deserted island nearby. Turns out that they were “rafters” as he called them; illegal aliens that were abandoned there by the people that smuggled them into the United States. He said that some of those people had paid up to 7000 dollars apiece to be smuggled into the country. I’m think’n, where do I get some?
There was a party on shore more than 300 yards from our boat and they had the loudest sound system I’ve ever heard. Picture Springsteen playing the Meadowlands. It wouldn’t have been bad except it took more than 2 hours before I heard a song that I recognized. Thankfully it stopped at 2000 hours.
Tomorrow we’ll hit the local Pulix for liquids. We’re pretty well provisioned so far as food goes but we’ll stock up on the heavy items being this Publix is right near a dinghy dock.
March 29
March 29. Well we finally broke free of Marathons grasp. The bridge tender here likes to joke that he arrived a year ago for a two week visit. The wind had been blasting us for close to 3 straight weeks from the east. East was our direction of choice so we were stuck along with dozens of other boats. Wednesday was the first day of a 2 day window where the wind would drop below 20 knots for the entire 2 days. Or so we thought.
On Wednesday morning 2 dozen boats departed for various points north. Some of the boats were heading up the west coast while most were headed up the east coast. The boats with less than 4 and a half feet of draft all went up the “inside route” which is along the west coast of the keys. The route proved to be favorable with calm sea conditions in the protection of the lee of the keys. You do have to be aware of the tides and a lot of the channels are very narrow so it can be pretty intense at times. The deeper draft vessels were all relegated to going up the Hawk Channel along the eastern shore of the keys. Since this was the first day with only 15 knots of wind the sea state was still fairly large and we listened to a lot of unhappy travelers on the radio.
We spent Wednesday doing last minute provisioning and laundry. We decided to let the seas calm down and depart on Thursday. I took the dogs to shore at 0600, OMG haven’t been up at that hour in a long time. Christy had the boat squared away and was ready to go when we got back.
We had 2 anchors down for the last 2 weeks and pulling them up went a lot smoother than I thought it would. The primary had been down there for 2 months! We also have been using a kellet on our primary anchor so it took 45 minutes to collect our ground tackle and get underway.
After going out under the bridge we had to stop for fuel. We arrived in Marathon with one tank practically empty and less 30 gallons in the other. We thought we would only be staying a short while so why bother to fill up at that time. We had to run the generator for almost an hour a day to make hot water and we were pleased to discover that it was ridiculously economical. So we ended up topping off with 65 gallons of diesel and a few gallons of gasoline for the dinghy. We heard the bridge tender counting the boats as they left the harbor, 18 left with us.
After we left the fuel dock we found ourselves with 5 sailboats in view ahead of us. We also discovered that the winds had built to 20 knots and were dead on the nose. We motored for about 2 hours, making about 4 and a half knots into closely spaced 5 foot waves. After those 2 hours we had started to turn a couple of degrees to the north so we put up the mainsail with a double reef incase the winds continued to build. Even though we were so close to the wind we were able to pick up an extra knot while motor sailing with the small main sheeted as tight as I could get it.
With that extra knot we started to gain ground on the boats ahead of us. So of course they had to put up some sail too. The further we traveled the more “off” the wind we could turn so we shook the reef out and were motor sailing at over 6 knots. We actually had some good tacking duels with 2 of the boats as we looked for as much help from the sail as we could get. Conditions were pretty crappy and 2 of the boats ahead of us decided to cut through the keys and take the inside route in calmer seas. It might take them longer because they’ll have to wait for high tide to transit several shallow areas but it would be a lot more comfortable. In the 100 miles from Miami to Marathon there are only five bridges high enough that a sailboat can sneak through from one side of the keys to the other so they opted for this first opportunity.
It took us 30 miles but we were able to catch all the sailboats ahead of us and we were comfortably anchored with our “post anchoring cocktail” as each one came in and dropped their hooks. The anchorage at Rodriguez Key sucks, plain and simple. There’s just no other place to hide for the night near the half way point on this trip from Marathon to Miami. On our way south 2 months ago we anchored north of the key and got our asses kicked for the night as the winds stayed out of the east and did not swing south as predicted. This time we chose to anchor off the south shore of the key behind the 1 foot shallows that surround the key. It worked out well, there was still big wind but the swells were knocked down by the shallows in front of us. Christy went swimming as soon as we were anchored and went out to see the anchor on the bottom. She said that it was completely buried in the sandy bottom with only the chain visible.
The only drawback was the dinghy ride to shore with the dogs was a mile and a quarter with most of it through unprotected water. Both of the dogs and I got soaked and then had to do it again in the morning. Happy happy, joy joy.
There were several good parts to the day. During the trip we saw several sea turtles sunning themselves but they were quick to dive for cover as we approached. We also got to see another Pearson 422 just like ours. They’re fairly rare so seeing one out and about is noteworthy. We saw it coming at us about 200 yards off our port bow and we realized that they looked an awful lot like us so as they passed Christy hailed them on the VHF and chatted them up a bit.
Anyway, it’s good to be on the move again. The boat and crew handled a real crappy 50 mile day very well and we’re headed for Miami tomorrow.
On Wednesday morning 2 dozen boats departed for various points north. Some of the boats were heading up the west coast while most were headed up the east coast. The boats with less than 4 and a half feet of draft all went up the “inside route” which is along the west coast of the keys. The route proved to be favorable with calm sea conditions in the protection of the lee of the keys. You do have to be aware of the tides and a lot of the channels are very narrow so it can be pretty intense at times. The deeper draft vessels were all relegated to going up the Hawk Channel along the eastern shore of the keys. Since this was the first day with only 15 knots of wind the sea state was still fairly large and we listened to a lot of unhappy travelers on the radio.
We spent Wednesday doing last minute provisioning and laundry. We decided to let the seas calm down and depart on Thursday. I took the dogs to shore at 0600, OMG haven’t been up at that hour in a long time. Christy had the boat squared away and was ready to go when we got back.
We had 2 anchors down for the last 2 weeks and pulling them up went a lot smoother than I thought it would. The primary had been down there for 2 months! We also have been using a kellet on our primary anchor so it took 45 minutes to collect our ground tackle and get underway.
After going out under the bridge we had to stop for fuel. We arrived in Marathon with one tank practically empty and less 30 gallons in the other. We thought we would only be staying a short while so why bother to fill up at that time. We had to run the generator for almost an hour a day to make hot water and we were pleased to discover that it was ridiculously economical. So we ended up topping off with 65 gallons of diesel and a few gallons of gasoline for the dinghy. We heard the bridge tender counting the boats as they left the harbor, 18 left with us.
After we left the fuel dock we found ourselves with 5 sailboats in view ahead of us. We also discovered that the winds had built to 20 knots and were dead on the nose. We motored for about 2 hours, making about 4 and a half knots into closely spaced 5 foot waves. After those 2 hours we had started to turn a couple of degrees to the north so we put up the mainsail with a double reef incase the winds continued to build. Even though we were so close to the wind we were able to pick up an extra knot while motor sailing with the small main sheeted as tight as I could get it.
With that extra knot we started to gain ground on the boats ahead of us. So of course they had to put up some sail too. The further we traveled the more “off” the wind we could turn so we shook the reef out and were motor sailing at over 6 knots. We actually had some good tacking duels with 2 of the boats as we looked for as much help from the sail as we could get. Conditions were pretty crappy and 2 of the boats ahead of us decided to cut through the keys and take the inside route in calmer seas. It might take them longer because they’ll have to wait for high tide to transit several shallow areas but it would be a lot more comfortable. In the 100 miles from Miami to Marathon there are only five bridges high enough that a sailboat can sneak through from one side of the keys to the other so they opted for this first opportunity.
It took us 30 miles but we were able to catch all the sailboats ahead of us and we were comfortably anchored with our “post anchoring cocktail” as each one came in and dropped their hooks. The anchorage at Rodriguez Key sucks, plain and simple. There’s just no other place to hide for the night near the half way point on this trip from Marathon to Miami. On our way south 2 months ago we anchored north of the key and got our asses kicked for the night as the winds stayed out of the east and did not swing south as predicted. This time we chose to anchor off the south shore of the key behind the 1 foot shallows that surround the key. It worked out well, there was still big wind but the swells were knocked down by the shallows in front of us. Christy went swimming as soon as we were anchored and went out to see the anchor on the bottom. She said that it was completely buried in the sandy bottom with only the chain visible.
The only drawback was the dinghy ride to shore with the dogs was a mile and a quarter with most of it through unprotected water. Both of the dogs and I got soaked and then had to do it again in the morning. Happy happy, joy joy.
There were several good parts to the day. During the trip we saw several sea turtles sunning themselves but they were quick to dive for cover as we approached. We also got to see another Pearson 422 just like ours. They’re fairly rare so seeing one out and about is noteworthy. We saw it coming at us about 200 yards off our port bow and we realized that they looked an awful lot like us so as they passed Christy hailed them on the VHF and chatted them up a bit.
Anyway, it’s good to be on the move again. The boat and crew handled a real crappy 50 mile day very well and we’re headed for Miami tomorrow.
March 19
March 19. Well we’re still here. We had planned to leave last Monday for a 2 hour downwind sail to Bahia Honda State Park. It’s well protected from the east, only so-so from the north and south and pretty much a death trap in big winds from the west. The bottom has a reputation as not being good holding ground. When we got up on Monday the wind was 15 knots from the east and supposed to build during the day and stay at about 20 knots from the east for several days. Perfect conditions for the trip and a couple of day stay.
While I took the dogs for their morning walk, Christy stowed everything on the boat so we could get underway when we got back. It was no small chore as we’ve been here for a while and a lot of gear had to be put away. I’ve been battling a case of the flu and by the time I got back to the boat the winds had built to 20 knots already and I was feeling a little less than stellar. So I walked in to the now seaworthy, spotless boat and told her I didn’t think we were going to be leaving today. She took it very well and we stayed put.
Since my last posting we’ve gone out on a local snorkeling tour boat. The boat was a 34 foot power catamaran with a 24 foot beam. We had about a 20 minute ride out to the reef and we had a wonderful time. Christy and I were the first ones into the water and the last ones to get out 2 hours later. The reef was beautiful with loads of colorful tropical fish milling about.
We’ve gone to several cruisers gatherings these past couple of weeks and we’ve met some very nice people. It’s really been a great time here in Marathon.
We took the dogs swimming the other day. We dinghied out to Sombrero Beach and spent the day. Molly seems to really enjoy the water and enters it readily to follow Christy or I into the sea. Tucker, well, not so much. When he first started swimming he would bring his front paws completely clear of the water in this clumsy splashing stroke. By the end of the day he did have it down better but he definitely wasn’t enjoying it.
Yesterday we met a very nice couple from Canada. They anchored near us and we decided that when we were going out we would stop by and welcome them to the “neighborhood”. We ended up spending a good bit of time with them at a social event later in the evening. I think I’ve got a handle on the Canadians use of the word “eh” at the end of a lot of their sentences. I think its used as a question mark except that it has an audible sound. As in, the winds blowing like stink eh? Its funny, when I hear an American trying to act as a Canadian and throwing an “eh” in at the end of every sentence it just sounds so forced. When a Canadian does it, it sounds rather charming.
Anyhow, a new word for your cruisers dictionary. First a little background. We were invited to a get together on a neighbor’s boat tonight and Al Cohol was also one of the attendees. Al definitely encourages some interesting topics of conversation with people that you’ve only known for about 37 minutes. Anyway, one of the wives there told the story of how they could never be intimate on a calm, windless night. She was afraid that any “movement” on the boat would be immediately noticeable to everyone in the anchorage. She was afraid there would be “Riffles” on the waters surface. There it was, riffles, she said it a dozen times so its definitely a word. It wasn’t in my dictionary so I thought we should all take this opportunity to add it.
So there’s your new word, Riffles. Riffles……..a water surface condition only caused by sexual activity on a boat. Not to be confused with the more innocent “ripples” which could be the result of more mundane activities such as vacuuming, varnishing or waxing.
If you use it during your next scrabble match you’re probably going to have to define it so use your own discretion.
While I took the dogs for their morning walk, Christy stowed everything on the boat so we could get underway when we got back. It was no small chore as we’ve been here for a while and a lot of gear had to be put away. I’ve been battling a case of the flu and by the time I got back to the boat the winds had built to 20 knots already and I was feeling a little less than stellar. So I walked in to the now seaworthy, spotless boat and told her I didn’t think we were going to be leaving today. She took it very well and we stayed put.
Since my last posting we’ve gone out on a local snorkeling tour boat. The boat was a 34 foot power catamaran with a 24 foot beam. We had about a 20 minute ride out to the reef and we had a wonderful time. Christy and I were the first ones into the water and the last ones to get out 2 hours later. The reef was beautiful with loads of colorful tropical fish milling about.
We’ve gone to several cruisers gatherings these past couple of weeks and we’ve met some very nice people. It’s really been a great time here in Marathon.
We took the dogs swimming the other day. We dinghied out to Sombrero Beach and spent the day. Molly seems to really enjoy the water and enters it readily to follow Christy or I into the sea. Tucker, well, not so much. When he first started swimming he would bring his front paws completely clear of the water in this clumsy splashing stroke. By the end of the day he did have it down better but he definitely wasn’t enjoying it.
Yesterday we met a very nice couple from Canada. They anchored near us and we decided that when we were going out we would stop by and welcome them to the “neighborhood”. We ended up spending a good bit of time with them at a social event later in the evening. I think I’ve got a handle on the Canadians use of the word “eh” at the end of a lot of their sentences. I think its used as a question mark except that it has an audible sound. As in, the winds blowing like stink eh? Its funny, when I hear an American trying to act as a Canadian and throwing an “eh” in at the end of every sentence it just sounds so forced. When a Canadian does it, it sounds rather charming.
Anyhow, a new word for your cruisers dictionary. First a little background. We were invited to a get together on a neighbor’s boat tonight and Al Cohol was also one of the attendees. Al definitely encourages some interesting topics of conversation with people that you’ve only known for about 37 minutes. Anyway, one of the wives there told the story of how they could never be intimate on a calm, windless night. She was afraid that any “movement” on the boat would be immediately noticeable to everyone in the anchorage. She was afraid there would be “Riffles” on the waters surface. There it was, riffles, she said it a dozen times so its definitely a word. It wasn’t in my dictionary so I thought we should all take this opportunity to add it.
So there’s your new word, Riffles. Riffles……..a water surface condition only caused by sexual activity on a boat. Not to be confused with the more innocent “ripples” which could be the result of more mundane activities such as vacuuming, varnishing or waxing.
If you use it during your next scrabble match you’re probably going to have to define it so use your own discretion.
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