Tuesday, December 10, 2019
Chub Cay, Bahamas
25.24.550N
77.54.615 W


We were underway at 5 am this morning after experiencing a rather noisy and somewhat uncomfortable night.  With nothing to protect us, the winds and waves had their way with our little home so it was no problem rousting ourselves up and out.  Unfortunately, it also made for another nasty transit bashing into waves and winds.  We took to “tacking” in an effort to modify the pounding which did help to a degree.  Otherwise it was overcast all day with little to see or comment on. 


We arrived at Chub Cay by 1:30pm and anchored outside their marina where we are tucked behind the island which knocks down the nasty conditions.  Chub is a private island and we heard just how private when the rather large motor yacht anchored behind us asked to make reservations at the club restaurant.  Although they explained that due to issues with their bow thruster they were not able to negotiate the channel, they were turned down unless they were registered at the marina.  Well, alright then.  I guess we better not try either. 

Chub Cay

 Tomorrow, we’ll make our way to Nassau and if the weather stays the same, we’ll actually be able to motorsail if not completely sail as the wind will be on our beam.  We’re looking forward to putting up those white flappy things and actually start sailing!

December 9, 2019
Russel Beacon Light, Bahamas
25.29.146 N
78.29.879 W


Morning came early for me again but today, after making a quick peek outside to make sure we were still where we left ourselves, I went back to bed and fell asleep until Dale turned on the radio to listen to the weather.  I kind of listened with one ear until we decided that we might as well get underway.  We checked our cruising guides and elected to not check in at Cat Cay but instead continue on and check in on Nassau.  Thus began our day long journey across the Bahama Bank. 

The trades were blowing, so the wind was on the nose all day but the bank was tranquil and sunny.  Except for the occasional boat (as in 4 all day) we didn’t see a thing except for the beautiful turquoise Bahamian waters with the sun twinkling in the ripples. 

Although, we did do something we haven’t done in the past, we anchored on the bank tonight.  About 5:15, we pulled off the route we had been following and motored about a mile in.  There was a shallow area depicted on the chart where the old Russel Beacon Light used to be so, we motored to the side and dropped our anchor in 15’ of water.  The light is broken so, we’ll be the light tonight.

Anchored on the bank

Dale wants to get underway by 5 am tomorrow so that we have enough time to get to Nassau before dark and have to anchor in a new harbor, so its lights out now.  See you tomorrow.  

December 8, 2019
Gun Cay, Bahamas
25.34.995 N
79.18.26 W



Our overnight transit from Ft. Pierce to Miami was as calm as any we’ve ever made.  The few “big boys” (cruise ships) were mostly located around Ft. Lauderdale and behaved in an orderly fashion that we could weave through without undue stress; Dale disagrees and says there was plenty of stress.  One of the few sailboats we encountered, hailed us on the VHF and said that we might want to have our AIS antenna checked out as we weren’t putting out a signature until within a mile of another vessel.  I thanked him for the heads up and then thought “Great!, I haven’t worried about anything new in almost 10 minutes”. 


We entered the Port of Miami jetty at 7:40 am and proceeded to Miami Beach Marine for fuel where the manager on duty, Keston Superville, seemed unusually impressed to see a woman at the helm.  I had a nice chat with him about our long range plans and left with his telephone number as he has family in Trinidad that he promised to put us in touch with when we needed to make marina arrangements there. 


Once again we were underway at 8:45am but this time heading due east to Cat/Gun Cay in the Bahamas.  As nice as the transit was yesterday, today was sloppy.  The 12-15 knot winds ended up being 20-24 knots and the 1-1.5’ waves were decidedly taller.  All cats pound regardless of what the salesman may have told you and today, I thought my teeth were going to jar loose.  The occasional misbehaving wave would sneak though the hulls and slap against the bridge between the hulls causing a pounding that would raise the salon table.  I can take a bit but after a couple of hours, it really wears on your nerves. 


The “big boys” we met on this transit were mostly on the east side of the Gulf Stream and were going in both directions at the same time in a relatively narrow path as if they had their own street they were following.  I was on watch when one passed from south to north in front of me but using the AIS, I was able to see that it was going to pass behind us with a couple of miles clearance.  I then saw 2 more approaching from opposite directions and although I could see that they too would pass with plenty of clearance, the one that appeared from behind the one seen heading south, showed that it would only pass with a .5 mile separation.  I start to really watch anything passing within a mile of us.  As luck would have it, this was exactly 4 pm and shift change.  Dale came up and took over.  Then he got excited when the 4 ships became 5!  He kept our course and speed until the ones that were clearly going to pass us did so, then slowed to allow more clearance for the 2 that appeared to be a bit too close for comfort.  Whew! 


Normally we do not like coming into an unfamiliar anchorage after dark but due to the conditions and nightfall descending

at 5pm these days, we were forced to do so this evening.  Dale stood out on the bow with a flashlight and headset directing me in as I concentrated on the chartplotter’s suggested route calling out depths to Dale until we snugged into 13’ on what was supposed to be clear sand.  Dale played out the anchor and we waited for the tug to say that it was set.  What we got was a sound that we interpreted to be a rocky bottom.  After the hurricane this past summer, its possible that it was cleared of sand and this was what was left.  We let the anchor drag a bit and then the familiar tug was felt.  Hopefully tomorrow, we’ll be able to retrieve it without drama as we really don’t know what we set it.  In any event, we’re snugged behind Gun Cay which blocks the easterly trade winds from rocking us too much and as long as it stays quiet, we’ll get a good night sleep before checking in at Cat Cay in the morning. 


Now!  Time for a hot shower!

December 7, 2019
Ft. Pierce, FL 
27.28.016 N
80.19.677 W


We arose early today; me at 5:30 (and the world didn’t come to a screeching halt); Dale at 6:30 and listened to Chris Parker for the weather report.  Dale had been analyzing our weather reports for a couple of days and telling me that when I returned, we’d be leaving the next day before noon to get a good jump on heading south.

I arrived at 8 pm Friday night into Ft. Lauderdale.  Seven thirty am today, Saturday, we took my laundry in to be washed and ate breakfast next door.  He dropped me off at the boat, returned the rental car and finally checked us out of Harbortown Marina where we had left our boat for the past month.  Harbortown has been so very kind to us making adjustments as needed with little warning and often a change of plans on the spur of the moment. 

Nine thirty he put on his scop patch in an abundance of caution as he sometimes suffers from seasickness when newly at sea. I turned on the engines at 10:30 and we pulled away from the pier 10 minutes later, looking like we knew what we were doing in front of the small group of onlookers gathered (tight maneuvering always draws the attention of anyone nearby).  We saw a few dolphins as we left the marina channel and made the turn to head out of the Ft. Pierce inlet; dolphins are a sign of good luck to most sailors; we were looking for all signs of good luck we could find today.  

Although it started off rather brisk, the day was sunny and warming up beautifully.  We passed the Ft. Pierce jetty at 10 minutes after 11 am and turned south into flat calm seas stopping and turning into the slight breeze to put up our sails.  We ended up rolling in the Code Zero (used only in very light winds) as there just wasn’t any wind but left out our main (so we’d at least looked like a sail boat) revved up the engines, put in a waypoint for St. Lucie and motored on. 

November had been a bad month for my family and me.  Telephone calls at 3 in the morning are never good, so when the first one came in on 11/9 telling me that my mother was back in this hospital after having only been released 2 days prior, I knew it wasn’t good.  She had coded, they had revived her but she no longer showed any brain waves.  Although our father had DNR instructions in his medical records, my mother did not.  As I am the oldest, their designated executor and guardian, I told my sister who was with her not to resuscitate again as my mother was vehemently against living in a nursing home and now, that was her only recourse.  The next call was 30 minutes later saying that she had died.  Dale and I were on a plane to Dallas a few hours later. 

As I mentioned earlier, I am the oldest of 5 and it was the first time in years that we had all been together.  We organized the funeral and afterwards, took lots of photos; some serious, some silly.  It was a good thing. 


Dad has Alzheimers and is essentially bedridden, so my sister Marcie who was already helping Mom take care of Dad knew that she was his sole caregiver (besides the various daily nurses that come in to check on him).  Although Dale returned to Florida after a week, I stayed behind another week and set about paying off all their bills, taxes, cancelling credit cards and services no longer needed.  Basically, setting things in motion so that Marcie could continue without having to worry about finances.  I returned to Florida on a Friday. 

Saturday 11/23 was my birthday.   Dale, Gerry and Nicky (Tinkering Consultant and She Who Must Be Obeyed) took me out to a local restaurant for a great dinner.  We were getting underway the following morning at high tide which was at 7:30am and were discussing the various plans.  That night, the second 3am call came in.  This time it was my sister, Marcie.  She had been out with one of her friends, was driving home on a dark, unlit country road and failed to negotiate a curve going off a steep embankment.  We could see from the ruts left behind that she was trying to bring the truck back onto the road but in turning perpendicular to the steepness, she instead rolled the truck onto the drivers’ side and slid into a tree pinning herself inside the vehicle.  It took first responders and hour and a half to find her as she was literally in a cow pasture with no lights still functioning. 

Those in the medical field or those who have experience in these types of accidents can tell you that there is a type of injury that doesn’t show until a person is cut out of the car.  Then they crash.  That was Marcie.  She was conscious the whole time, honking the horn when instructed and, I’m told, that she had a bit of a sense of humor until she was removed from the truck.  She coded in the life flight helicopter and then one last time at the hospital.  She had only a single tiny cut visible on her temple; presumably from glass and a bit of juniper in her hair that showed any indication of what had happened.  Once again, the family gathered. 

In the week that Dale stayed with me this time, he was able to contact Dad’s physicians, straightened out his medicines and helped us gather the various military records I would need to have him placed in a Veteran’s Home.  As he requires round the clock care and no one lives near, there was no other choice. 

My brother and sisters rallied as we knew that early in Dad’s condition, he had taken out a reverse mortgage on their home and both had accumulated 50 years’ worth of stuff on their property that now needed to be sorted out or sold in order to take care of him.  Additionally, Marcie had brought all of her belongings when she moved to Texas which were stored now on the property.  To say that this was a monumental undertaking is an understatement but we divided the tasks and made progress. 

Then, the attorney I had consulted told me that the Court would not approve me to be my mother’s executor as I would be out of the country.  It was either give up the trip, or learn to let go. 

I spent my remaining time concentrating on getting Dad in and settled in his new home and setting up the finances to take care of him.  Marcie’s husband, children and various nieces and nephews helped sort through dividing what was hers from what was theirs.  My brother and sisters helped sort through Mom’s things, dividing what we were going to keep with what would go for sale.  My sister, Carolyn, the only one who actually lives in Texas, will now be the designated executor.  

I agonized over the decision as I’ve never side stepped a responsibility, particularly one involving family.  In some respect, I feel as if I’m giving up my promise to protect them.  However, ultimately it was family that said go.  Dale and I have been planning this trip since before we were first married.  Back then, it was a pipe dream.  Over the years it became a possibility and then, a reality.  As neither one of us is a spring chicken, its now or never. 


So here we are, on a beautiful sunny Florida day heading south.  Not perfect sailing conditions as there is no wind but definitely perfect motoring conditions as there are no waves.  We’re close to shore so we can keep our cell phones active but each time mine rings or a text comes in, my chest tightens and I say a quick prayer that its only to answer a question here or there and nothing more.  And as Scarlett would say, “tomorrow is another day;” we will survive this.  


 

 

November 7, 2019
Ft. Pierce, FL 
27.28.029 N
80.10.591 W



Wow!  What happened?  I didn’t wake up to WWIII this morning.  Apparently, the Pelican Squadron stood down today and I was able to sleep in a bit. 

However, Dale was anxious to get to the liquidator store early and purchase some larger electrical cable to rewire the wind generator.  Evidently, this was the solution to the extra voltage and he was hot on the trail to resolution.  Never a dull moment. 

On our way there, we passed an electrical box that had what looked like a photograph wrapped around it.  I remember Gerry telling us that the City had allowed the local graffiti artists to decorate the downtown electrical boxes.  New York has bulls, Jacksonville has manatees, Chicago has planters, Ft. Pierce has both planters and electrical boxes.  I thought it was a great idea.  Dale thought the locals would probably be annoyed that people were slowing down to photograph the artwork and holding up traffic. 




Back to the liquidator store.  I get a kick out of hardware stores and the like, basically because I see all sorts of gizmos that I think I could use for some totally different purpose other than that for which it was intended.  Today I found 2 right-hand gloves that would have fit the Jolly Green Giant.  They were really warm and furry inside (I think they were a type of lineman’s gloves) but here they were, just waiting for someone to put them on and start singing the muffin man song.  The owner laughed, Dale rolled his eyes and said that any woman that likes a hardware store is dangerous--knowing full well that we were on our way to Home Depot next.  I was left wondering where the left-hand gloves had gone. 



We returned to the boat so that Dale could work his magic and I could fill out insurance forms.  Our current insurance only covers us to the bottom of the Turks and Caicos, then we need another carrier who is willing to cover us not only through the Caribbean but also through the Pacific.  Our current broker told us ahead of time that this would require a new survey (thus the survey last week) and possibly two different underwriters, so now I’m filling out forms.  Forms for the insurance quotes, forms for activation of the satellite phone, you name it, there’s a form for it. 



Including going paperless at my bank.  Get a load of this, in order for me to turn off the paper statement to my grandchildren’s savings accounts that I created, I have to fill out a paper form for each one of them and mail it in.  What?  Let me get this straight!  Every envelope I received from the bank says “Go Paperless” but when I try, I have to file a piece of paper for each account, by mail; it can’t be done online.  There seems to be a disconnect somewhere!  Ugh!!

We ended the day with Dale declaring with pride (but not quite thumping his chest) that not only had he rewired the wind generator, he had made me another shelf after I had come up with a concept of what to do with the ice maker cabinet; and he had made it happen in a single day!

November 6, 2019
Ft. Pierce, FL 
27.28.029 N
80.10.591 W


This morning Dale was finally able to speak with a technician about the faulty icemaker only to learn that the part needed wasn’t sold separately.  No, it was part of an ice cube making assembly which, of course, cost not quite half of the total machine itself.  Dale got a list of the distributors in the area and proceeded to call around to see if or when, the part would be available and could be sent to us, as we intended to leave Ft. Pierce this weekend.  We even went to a local liquidator store to see if they might have one.  The answer was a decided “No”.  So, Plan B was to purchase another.  Gerry had told us about one he had seen at Sam’s Club for less than $100 that “pooped” out ice cubes in less than 10 minutes. 


So off we went to Vero Beach to the local Sam’s.  As long as we were going, might as well pick up a few grocery items we needed as well.  We found what we were looking for, then went and sat in the car for 15 minutes weighing the pros and cons to ordering the part and having it shipped to us in Ft. Pierce and just waiting until it arrived or buying a completely different design that was smaller, only made ice but it didn’t hold it once it was made, but also didn’t use nearly as much electricity storing it.  Among my favorite monikers for Dale besides Tweaker in Chief, is Amp Nazi.  Guess which way we went. 


On our way back to the boat, I started thinking about the decision we made and wondering what we were going to do with the old one.  Its stainless steel and about the same size as the outdoor refrigerator on our patio.  I came up with an idea that I proposed and much to my surprise, Dale went for it.  That’s how I found myself on I-95 North flying low trying to make it to our mail forwarding service before they closed at 5pm; as long as I’m heading home, might as well get an errand run while I’m at it. 


I was doing fine until it started raining and I slowed for a period of time.  Then my MapQuest indicated I was going to be 5 minutes late.  I gave a quick call (I have hands free calling in the car) to the company explaining the situation and asked if they would either leave our mail in an envelope outside their doors or wait for me.  The supervisor said that she would wait as long as it was only 5 minutes.  Bless her heart, I came skidding in 5 minutes after 5 and she was still there with my mail already prepared. 


After that, I made my way back to our old stomping grounds in St. Augustine, dug the ice maker out of the trunk, as well as a few items that I decided I could live without for the next couple of years and certainly didn’t want to mail back from Australia and put them in our storage unit.  Then, it was back to Ft. Pierce.  A little over 6 hours of driving but a better solution to just throwing it away. 


While I was gone, Dale read up on rewiring the wind generator as its putting too much voltage into the batteries.  I would have thought that it was a good thing, but apparently not.  He also rearranged all of my storage in the guest room so that he could open the engine compartment more completely.  This, of course, means that I’ll have to reorganize things once he’s not looking but making sure I don’t block his access again.  He also put the new ice maker in where the old ice maker used to live.  It was truly sad; and a colossal waste of space.  

November 5, 2019
Ft. Pierce, FL 
27.28.029 N
80.10.591 W


This morning came as early as the previous one with a loud smash followed by a second and third at one end of the boat, then more at the other end before it seemed to settle down.  Today, we discovered that there may be other culprits involved; pelicans diving for fish taking shelter under the boat.  At this point I’m not sure who’s crashing into the boat, the fish or the pelicans!  They seem to have a strategy too!  A couple aces dive bomb the back of the boat while the rest of the squadron simultaneously attack from the front.  The poor fish don’t have a chance!   Still, couldn’t they start their war a little later in the morning and be a bit more stealthy in the process?  Instead they start at the crack of dawn with the loudest crash possible right next to my pillow! 


Doesn’t matter, we needed to be up early today in any event as we were taking Gerry and Nicky to the airport for their last visit to Gerry’s step-mom in Wisconsin.  They were none too happy that the temps in Chicago were predicted to be in the 30’s and they only have tropical clothing to wear.  They decided to layer as best they could and take their foul weather jackets as the final layer.   We found it humorous when they arrived and sent us a photo of their rental car equipped with a brush for wiping snow from the windshield with the caption “what’s this?” 


With the 4 hour transit back and forth to the airport, it pretty much took up the better part of the day, however, we did find time to visit the largest West Marine in Florida just to see if there was anything we couldn’t possibly live without.  Dale found a light to replace the one burned out in the compass and I found a couple of Velcro wraps for our electrical cords to keep them from tangling when stored. 


When we returned to the boat, we were just in time to watch a 50+ foot power boat pulling into the slip behind Gerry.  Opal is 52’, so when it comes time to get underway, it may be a challenge to maneuver his single engine, full keel, around quick enough to avoid catastrophe.  We walked to the end of the dock, where we are tied, stopping occasionally to chat briefly with those on their boats before boarding ours to attack the next project.  Remember?  Fixing your boat in exotic places! 


On our trip down the ICW, we had noticed that our ice maker, although it was freezing beautifully, wasn’t making ice cubes.  Thinking that it just needed to be primed, (he’s really showing his age here) Dale added water to the ice cube tray.  Nope, that wasn’t it.  So we continued by putting containers of water in the storage bin and making ice that way. 


The Tweaker in Chief was not happy with this arrangement, so today he tore it apart.  I was under the impression that we had forgotten to turn on some switch (because we had shut this boat down completely when we thought a hurricane was on our doorstep) but no, he found a burned out gizmo (I’m sure he told me what it was but I only remember that it sounded like it belonged on a spaceship) and proceeded to contact the manufacturer, for the name of the local distributer, to speak with someone in the technical department, to learn if he could order a replacement part.  The technicians had already left for the day, so this will be a continuing saga.  

In the meantime, all of our safety gear, which just happens to be stored in the same closet, is now on the settee in the salon with pieces and parts, manuals and notes, strewn across the table.  I was just starting to get the salon settled so that more than one person could actually sit at the table while eating. 


I have to keep reminding myself that I wouldn’t be on this adventure, if I didn’t have full confidence that Dale could fix just about everything on the boat, so I’ll be quiet while he’s working, and he can sit on one corner of a stool and I’ll sit on the other. 

November 4, 2019
Ft. Pierce, Florida
27.28.029 W
80.10.591 W


Today began with a rude awakening about 6 am when a loud thud hit the side of our boat, right about where my head was laying.  Our first impression was that we had been hit by another boat but it was the wrong side.  Then we thought that our fenders had shifted and we were smashing against the dock.  We later saw that it was actually fish hitting the boat.  We learned that it was a common event that fish, about 18-24” long go crashing into boats all the time in this marina.  We saw a dolphin later in the day and wondered if it was chasing them.  We considered that the bottom of our boat is painted black and maybe they just didn’t see us but wow! Talk about an eye opener!  The rest of the day was spent running errands, getting a rental car, and continuing the saga of the temperamental anchor windlass. 


When we left off, the Tweaker in Chief had decided to chase all of the electrical connections and clean them thinking the possibility of corrosion creeping into various parts might have been the problem for the on again, off again situation.  Which he did.  Then he ran the anchor up and down a couple of times, just to make sure everything was working as intended.  The last time leaving the anchor itself dangling just below the waterline to wash off the accumulated mud.  Once the mud had dissolved, he pushed the button to retrieve it and, . . . nothing!  OK, now things are getting serious.  So he called the number on the wiring diagram only to learn that the original company had been sold to another.  He contacted that number and talked to “Dave”. 


Dave was regaled with the history of the misbehaving mechanism and offered that he thought it was bushings in the motor starting to go bad.  His company didn’t actually sell a new motor but he offered a couple of places that did.  When the discussion of price came up, it was discussed as to whether it might be better to order a new windlass instead of just a part.  We were both surprised when Dave was adamant that no, no, no, we actually had a workhorse of an apparatus and the newer models weren’t anywhere as beefy as the one we had.  He also offered that with our long range plans, taking an extra solenoid would be advisable as they had a nasty habit of quitting too.   


Sometimes, it feels good, when another tells you that he’d love to take more of your money but you don’t need to spend that much, so why don’t you just keep it.  There may be hope for this world yet. 

November 3, 2019
Ft. Pierce, Florida
27.28.029 N
80.19.591 W


Our anchorage was less than comfortable last evening, so between the rocking and rolling, wind howling and worrying about what had happened to the anchor windlass, it was easy to be up and moving at 7:00 this morning.  I say 7, as we had not taken into account that it was the change back to standard time, so we really woke up at 6am.  Doesn’t matter, the sun still comes up when it wants. 


Of course, the first thing Dale did was check to see if the windlass had miraculously healed itself during the night and pushed the button to see if it would work.  Nope!  Still broken. 


As I mentioned yesterday, we learned a few tricks the first time we made this trip, so I laid out a cloth for Dale to drop the chain on as he grabbed another type of snubber to keep the chain from falling back into the water from its own weight.  Then I went back to the cockpit and slowly advanced the engine, so that all the pressure was taken off the chain.  Except for having to flip the anchor around, he hand hoisted it back up without incident and much quicker than either of us expected.  Once again we were heading south and really hadn’t lost any time in the process. 


We made Ft. Pierce by 12:30 and were met by the smiling faces of Gerry (Tinkering Consultant) and Nicky (She Who Must Be Obeyed), on Opal of Queensland, our buddy boat for the remainder of our big adventure.  Gerry met us on the fuel pier and then grabbed our lines when we finally tied up along a pier just across the channel from them.  The guys were soon noodling around the possibilities of what possibly could have gone wrong with the windlass. 


The four of us grabbed a quick bite, we collected the mail they had picked up for us and then the Tinker Twins were in high gear.  Each gathered their multimeters, Dale provided the schematics and diagrams of the offending motor, they donned radio headsets and while Gerry was down below, Dale went above to attack the dang thing from two different directions.  You can imagine their surprise when, for grins and giggles, Dale tried it again, and presto! It worked.  After much discussion, it was decided that as there was some noticeable corrosion on the outside of the motor, so the theory is, that it’s possible one or more of the connections needed to be cleaned on the inside.  Guess what Dale is doing tomorrow!  Just to be on the safe side, he’s going to run the chain up and down a few times just to make sure that it continues to work “under load” and that its not just a trick to get us into some remote spot to die again. 


And so the fun begins; also known as:  fixing your boat in exotic places. 

November 2, 2019
Melbourne, Florida
28.04.826N
80.35.850W



Don’t you love it when a plan comes together?  After the sun went down last evening, it began to calm and it was a very peaceful night.  No darting for an unknown sound during the night and we were in the same place when we arose this morning.  Although it started off a little chilly, it warmed up well into the 70’s. 


We hoisted anchor and were underway by 7:30am and except for looking at the scenery for the next 10 hours, there was nothing extraordinary to tell you about.  I don’t remember so many  mobile homes near the shoreline; you’d think the developers would have bought up all of the scenic property.   There were more dolphins in the ICW than I ever remember too.  Most were babies, frolicking near the shoreline.  I did see one manatee.  Lots of herons and seagulls. 


There was certainly more traffic on the ICW but for a nice Saturday, not as many as you’d expect.  We thought we were going to have entertainment at one point when a power boat would hail vessel after vessel, signaling he was going to pass them, but would just say “southbound sailing vessel, this is Flykt, the vessel behind you”.  Although a couple of people tried to tell him he needed to either call the vessel by name, give a marker, or at least identify what body of water he was in (so that every vessel in a 15 mile radius of his radio heading south, didn’t have to turn around to see if he was on their stern) he never picked up on the hint.  After he had passed us, we heard part of a heated exchange that dissolved as quickly as it started.  Someone ahead of us had clearly had enough of his less than clear communications. 


No, the excitement came when we pulled in to anchor just to the south of the Melbourne Bridge.  We pulled to the east as our guide had directed and dropped anchor.  We backed down on it, got a sharp tug indicating that it had set securely, and Dale proceeded to put a bridle on the anchor (this takes the strain off the anchor windlass and puts it on the cleats designed take the pull).  Unfortunately, when he returned to let out more anchor to put the strain on the bridle, nothing happened.  No click, no pop, no grind and NO motion.  So for the next hour, we let out the remaining length by hand, Dale got out his trusty multimeter and started tracing electrical connections.  The long and short of it is, something’s broke.  We will make our Ft. Pierce destination tomorrow in any event, where we have marina reservations.  There he and his tinkering consultant can start sciencing things to get it to work again.  What this means though, is first thing tomorrow morning, we’ll hoist 50’ of chain by hand back onto the boat.   We know a couple of tricks learned the hard way to making it easier. 


Sort of a comical sidenote: when we took off for our sabbatical back in 2005, our anchor windlass gave us grief all the way to Puerto Rico.  Dale got quite the workout back then hoisting the anchor several times when it would falter.  We’re not going to do that this time.  I’d rather buy a new one now, than start putting bandaids on this one for the next 3-4 months. 

November 1, 2019
New Symrna Beach
29.03.669N
80.55.875W

Who turned off the heat!!  Holy smokes!  We went to bed last evening grateful for the power to  the AC.  This morning Dale got up, got dressed and went outside.  He was back inside within 30 seconds, completely changing clothes saying that it was 60* outside.  A good time to head south. 

We had scheduled a 7:30am appointment to have our boat hauled for the out of water survey.  Dale went up about 7:15am to make contact with the manager as no one had responded to my text from the night before.  He came back about 7:30 saying that there was a whole new group of people there and they were having a meeting at 7:30 to discuss the day.  My impression was that as soon as our surveyor got there, they would know exactly how it was going to start. 

About 7:45 a man with his hands stuffed in his shorts and wearing a flowered shirt looking terribly cold came walking down the dock looking for us asking why we weren’t heading for the haul out.  I explained that we were ready but were waiting for the meeting to get out.  He went looking for Dale, who had gone looking for the surveyor.  I turned on the engines and waited.  Sure enough, here comes Dale, circling his finger as in fire it up, we’re going. 

Dale had warned me that the wind and current were opposed to each other, so be careful.  I backed out like I knew what I was doing.  That’s where it ended. 

Heading to the slip, Dale had said to swing wide, that’s the last I heard.  As soon as I started my turn, it became extremely clear that the current was much stronger than I anticipated and as I slid past the slip, three different men were yelling directions at the same time as the AIS started beeping a warning of a dangerous target in the area.  I wondered if it sensed it was me. 

Ready for the out of water survey

What many of you may not know is that I am a private pilot.  One of the things my instructor screamed in my ear (and there were many) was that you shouldn’t try to save a bad approach; its better to go around and line it up better the next time.  I fell back on that lesson as soon as the yelling started.  So I reversed engines and backed my catywompus angle back into the current.  The next time I approached heading into the current which was much easier to control; that time I pulled in reasonably straight.  The line handlers did the rest; they’d seen enough.  Jim Campbell, our surveyor, saw the whole thing.  He was sweet saying that anytime you come in without damage, its good.  Similar to my flight instructor who said anytime you can walk away from a landing, its good. 

We came out of the water about 7:50; Jim did his work, we paid him for his time and effort and we were back in the water by 9:15.  We had to back tract to refuel but we were on the road again (so to speak) by 10. 

Our journey south wasn’t a miserable day but it wasn’t a chamber of commerce one either.  It was overcast, dreary and cold all day.  However, it kept a lot of boaters off the ICW.  There were a few and generally most were polite as they approached us and slowed to knock down their wakes that can give us a nasty rocking. 

As luck would have it, I was at the helm when we went through the Mantasas Cut.  This is an area that has notoriously shifting sands.  They actually keep a dredge permanently anchored there.  Today was no exception.  However, today, they were actually working in the channel which required some serious navigation to get through.  Dale was standing by my side as we heard the boat ahead of us asking for directions.  We followed behind him until he did a complete 180 and started heading back towards us.  A voice on the radio called to us and said to stay put until the little boat leading the one ahead of us returned and then we were to follow him.  OK, I can do that. 

When it did return, a man came out on the deck and motioned for us to come towards him.  I was concerned that we were going to hit him as our boat doesn’t exactly stop on a dime.  He then gunned the engine forward and he again motioned for us to follow.   This forced us to do a hairpin turn, which appeared to take us back out but then he cut back in within feet of the dredger before doing another hairpin turn in front of the dredger.  I grant you, we got through without mishap but man, what a serpentine route!  You’d never get through that on your own.  There were 3 more dredgers along that strip but thankfully, it was Dale’s turn.  He was fortunate that 2 were anchored and the last one was clearly on one side of the channel. 

The remaining part of the day was spent staying in the obscenely narrow channel for such a wide expanse of water making steady progress south.  In fact, originally we had hoped to make Daytona Beach before dark.  We actually got there by 4pm, so we elected to continue on to New Symrna Beach.  Dale picked out an anchorage from a book we have on such information, and when we reached it, had only 2 boats in it.  We anchored in the center and backed down.  We got the sharp tug that indicates we’re well set and started to settle in.  Within 5 minutes, it became clear why there were only 2 boats here.  We were in a cut between the ICW and the beach which caused us to swing 180* on a regular basis.  We guessed the other boats had thrown out a stern anchor to keep them into the current but what happens when the tide turns?  Dale didn’t want to chance fouling two anchors.  As we plan to be underway at first light, we elected to let out more chain, roll up the side curtains to our enclosure to lessen the wind factor and keep checking.  It did seem to help.  We kept a close watch for about an hour and a half until sunset and appeared to be doing well.  Since sunset, it seems to have settled even more.  Every once in a while, we’ll feel the tug on the anchor and Dale jumps up to go check again. 

Let’s hope we have an uneventful night.  Every time, something happens, Dale is quick to say “Well, its something for your blog!”  Please!  Some things I don’t need to experience.

October 31, 2019
St. Augustine
30.14.35 N
81.39.31 W

Morning came early but not as early as a “sparrow’s fart” due in part to the fact that the Main Street Bridge (one of the 6 Jacksonville bridges we have to transit under) doesn’t open between 7:30 and 8:30am during work days.  Being a rather bright individual, Dale took that to mean, sleeping in to 7 am before waking the wifely beast.  (I ease into a morning--not bound out of bed ready to attack the day). 

As he singled up lines, disconnected the electrical cable and secured the remaining fenders, I grabbed the deck brush and started the routine of using the heavy dew to give a quick sweep across the deck.  (Look at me with all my nautical terms).  This uses free water to give the boat a little bath; or at least smears the dust around so it looks a little cleaner. 

Saying Goodbye to NAS Jax

 We got underway from NAS Jax at 8:39am and is our habit, I brought the Palace out of her slip and handed off to Dale once he had put the lines away.  Its amazing what you forget in a year.  We have plotted routes in our chartplotter for our usual course up the River.  Once you make it to the first waypoint, generally, its only a matter of engaging the route to make the boat do the work; you just keep a sharp lookout and monitor the progress.  Dale ended up hand steering most of the way past the base before I managed to get the route to engage properly.  Its just a series of 3 keys strokes but they are keys strokes that must be pushed in the right order to make it work!

 We passed through the Jacksonville metro area by 10am, being fortunate to catch an outgoing tide, and made good progress all the way to the turn east toward Mayport.  As we approached the Dames Point Bridge, Dale handed off to me for my shift.  As fate would have it, the St. Johns River is being deepened to allow the larger cruise ship traffic to enter into the expanding commercial area.  The first working crane I came to was afloat on a barge, with its two accompanying tugs square in the middle of the channel; its attending barge and tug to carry the refuse away was anchored out of the channel but still close enough to keep and eye on.  No auto pilot here!  I passed to the north of it as it appeared to have more room (and I had seen two other boats go to that side).  The second crane with its two tugs was more to the north side but its attending refuse barge and tug were on the move, so I zig-zagged to the south side of the channel.   I could see 2 more cranes lay beyond that one.  Dale came up, took one look and decided he had better take over again.  I pointed out that I had already gone around one but since he volunteered, go for it!  The radio was crackling out alerts to various sport fishers to slow down as they had divers in the water around the barges.  At least I hadn’t received one of those warnings. 

 We turned off the River and onto the ICW (Intercoastal Waterway) continuing south through where the rich folk live; yes Rick, that means you (the house is beautiful by the way).  It was high tide, a fairly narrow channel and beautiful landscaping the whole way.  I didn’t mind being at the helm as much as I usually do during this leg; it was daylight, it was deep and it was a weekday, so the fishermen were working and not darting about in their boats.  Looks like a lot of the owners took their insurance money from Irma to enlarge their estates or sold to someone else that enlarged their estates.  Gorgeous homes. 

St. Augustine Lighthouse

It was Dale’s turn at the helm again as we approached the Velano Bridge.  He started to worry that we wouldn’t make our destination of St. Augustine Marine by sundown.  I pointed out a shower we could see in the distance which really added to the pucker power.  As it turned out, we only waited at the Bridge of Lions for 10 minutes for the 6pm opening, was tied up and connected to power with the AC cooling by 7.  A long day regardless, with another scheduled for tomorrow.  We have a haul out at 7:30am for our out of water survey.  I would guess that it shouldn’t take more than an hour or two but we will see. 



Until then, Happy Halloween!

We Miss You Guys!

October 30, 2019

NAS Jax
30.14.35N
81.39.31W

Well, its official!  We’re on the boat.  The first night in almost a year.  The last couple of days have been spent unloading our pantry, refrigerator and freezer and reloading everything onto the boat and put away.  What didn’t fit, got tossed; no need to go grocery shopping after all and no need to pre-make casseroles as we’re not on vacation but actually living aboard; different mind set.  Dale has been very understanding but at one point told me that I couldn’t put the entire house on the boat.  Yes, I can.  This is going to be our home for the next couple of years so  . . .

Geri our friend for about 30 years will be housesitting for us and agreed to drive us to the boat after we did our walk around and a quick introduction to the neighbors.  She tooted the horn as she dropped us off at our slip and I had one of those anxious moments wondering why I wasn’t more excited.  Sheer exhaustion is probably the main reason.  


Once on the boat, I made the bed (something between boat yoga and bear wrestling) as Dale transferred a couple of our hurricane fenders to a dock mate who had shown an interest in them.  That last load of supplies is still sitting on the salon floor waiting for a permanent home but it will have to wait.  I can already tell that I’m going to be rearranging things for awhile until it feels right.  


Tomorrow the big adventure begins.  Dale says the weather isn’t looking good for an ocean transit which means the Intercoastal.  I’m not fond of that particular route as there’s usually more than a few bubba’s hauling buns for the local fishing holes rocking us violently on a very narrow and in some spots shallow, channel.