Day 104-107 Cruising the Keys
19 December 2013 | Marathon Key
Our first visitors from home at Dinner Key Marina were so welcome. Stef and Roy (Anchor Pointe Marina!) found us at the dock and what a great greeting! We spent time with them and this is when I first found out that more people were reading our blog than just the few we knew of. I apologize for not keeping up but we were no longer confined to waiting out locks with time to spare, that we put the pedal to the metal and by the end of each day, dog tired. I promise to go back and write the blogs from days 47-103, but for now we are out of the canals, rivers, and Intracoastal Waterway where you must follow the “road” or pay the consequences. I’ll take up my story where the travel seemed markedly different than the previous and new choices available to us.
We knew the travel was different as we left the Dinner Key Marina in Miami and set out on Biscayne Bay. We were shedding the familiar and sometimes that is not an easy thing to do. The comforts we found through each segment of our journey is mostly gone. We started over on several levels. First, most noticeable was that the ICW chart book we were using was done. We had to put it with the others (Great Lakes, Erie Canal, Hudson River, New Jersey coast and Delaware Bay, and Chesapeake Bay). The ICW chart book guided us 1095 miles safely along the US coast, Virginia to Florida, and was easy to read, understand, and follow. Now we use the big chart book, sort of awkward with tiny print and the magenta line is only a suggestion or non-existent. We rely heavily on the compass as well as the GPS. Second, the people we were traveling with were not going south. Biscayne Bay was their departure point to the Bahamas. They were scattered along the ICW waiting for their weather windows, each in a different spot. We were the furthest south, and had expected to see them all once more before we left. It was not to happen. I’m glad I had on my sunglasses so that John couldn’t see that I was upset about this. That’s the way of transient life: enjoy and appreciate the company while it’s here; expect sailors to follow their own way in their own time to their own tune. (Hey Drew, is there a song here?) Third, I felt that we are truly an island in the ocean. All we need has to be found on 37 x 12 feet of space or do without. It was the first time in a long while that we used the autopilot for any length of time. Then once the sails were set, they got to stay that way for hours. 4 ½ hours with the engine and 2 ½ hours under sail alone on Day 104 dried my eyes and put a smile on my lips. The only concern on this day was the antifreeze level. John added 3 quarts of fluid over the past few days, ever since we pushed to make some scheduled bridge openings so we didn’t have to “hover” for half an hour. We shouldn’t push Mother Perkins! Fourth, this area of Florida is not so built up and polished as Miami north. Rustic and wild comes to mind. Some of the people we meet are living on the edge of mainstream. I wonder how their boats float, let alone sail. Yet they are friendly and informative and happy to clue you in on the best places for the best prices. At Boot Key Harbor, you can dingy up to any vessel (sail or power) and strike up a conversation. It’s easy to let the time slip by, so don’t plan too many chores or errands to do in one day. Other changes are not so obvious; we might not even notice them at first, then realize we are in a different lifestyle, why not different habits?
On Thursday, Day 104, emotions went from low to extremely high. The clouds threatened rain from the ocean to the east and the wind was blowing 20 mph. To the south where we were heading, the sky was clearer with only a few white clouds. I hoped we would outrun the rain and that it would pass behind us. It did. Biscayne Bay was huge. How can the ocean be any bigger? We followed the recommended course even though we could have gone anywhere in the bay. It was consistently 11 feet in depth so we had no fear of running aground, a freedom we hadn’t felt in a long while. The only restrictions on this day were the cuts through mangroves between large bodies of water. One cut I particularly liked was the cut through the mangroves just before reaching Route A1A, the overseas highway to the southernmost point of land in the continental USA. We went under the highway and stopped for the night at Gilbert’s Marina, a bit expensive, but we wanted to celebrate: great restaurant and bar under a grass roof, beach, and salt water pool. There was live music, but again, we called it a night pretty early. It seems this is another subtle change in our lifestyle that was becoming a habit.
On Friday, we left Gilbert’s early to go only 6 miles to Tarpon Basin, a small enclosed bay very sheltered from the wind that was building. Anywhere else we might have planned was exposed and we didn’t want to spend more at Gilbert’s, so 6 miles was the best decision. We had to go very slowly to the anchorage a mile in from the route with depths ranging from 4.5-6.9 feet. Staying near the shore seemed the best course, but as soon at the depth was 4 feet, we dropped anchor. It still was a long distance to the dingy dock, but it was better than running aground. We had gotten new anchor chain in Ft. Lauderdale and well worth the cost when the heavy wind and rains hit in the night. We could hear it in the rigging but the boat barely moved. The live-aboard sailors here welcomed us to their little park and dingy dock at Key Largo behind the government building. It was a pleasant feeling. (Lately, the atmosphere has been less than friendly, though nothing was said directly to us. There are places that cruisers are not looked upon with fondness, if you get what I mean). We talked to several, but Tony and his little 3-legged dog Angel, had the most to share. John bought his fishing license and gear here. He has been talking about trailing a line behind the boat ever since I can remember and now he would do it. I stayed on the boat the second day; and early on Sunday, we planned to travel another 20 miles to the east side of the Keys.
Weighing anchor is easier than dropping anchor, so it was uneventful. I have learned the hard way to retrace my course…oh, yes; you’ll want to hear about THAT, but another time! There were two other boats ahead of us on the magenta line, when another sailboat, Valinor, passed us. We first met this single-hander at a marina in South Carolina so we chatted a bit on the radio. He was going for more miles that day and asked about the weather. John checked it out, and changed our destination to Long Key Bight, about 35 miles away. The wind would be strong from the north tomorrow, but fine for coastal sailing then. Predicting conditions over several days is another subtle change. John then had plenty of time to fish. Ever heard of a Lizard fish? Sharp teeth! They are used for bait, so John threw them back, all 5 of them. We couldn’t go as far up the bight as Valinor, so we didn’t get to have sundowners with him. The wind was strong and clocked around to the north during the night. As I retraced my approach on the way out, it was a little unnerving bashing into the waves. As we turned to go west, the wind became our friend and the compass kept us on track. On this day, we motored 2 hours and sailed for 4. So far it’s a grand Monday….
Approaching Boot Key Harbor on Marathon is straight forward. You round the island, head for Pigeon Key at the seven mile bridge, and turn right to enter the channel. We planned to be at a mooring ball just after noon. Have I mentions before that when we have a wonderful day, something will go wrong to spoil it? I also learned through this trip that my multi-tasking limit is 3. I was steering, watching the depth, and avoiding lobster pot floats successfully as John lowered and tied down the mainsail. I wanted to know how far to the entrance and when we would be settled. Ahh, GPS is a great tool for finding distances, so I started panning the arrow to the channel markers …clunk!! I looked around to see a pot float split in two and the speed dropped considerably. I had to stop the engine and John raised the sails back up. Neither of us was happy and it showed. I think we chopped off a few more floats on the way to a designated anchorage and dropped the anchor. John donned his mask and fins and dove on the propeller. Surprisingly, he came up in 30 seconds and said he was done. A float and line was wrapped around one ear of the prop, which was it. I was certain we had a spider web of lines all tangled and asked again, “That’s it? Really?” A much less expense than what happened at Rock Hall, Maryland…another story … We fueled up at one of the several docks to the harbor. This is the first time we had to pay for water. Guess we’ll be more conservative, as if we haven’t been so far!
Book Key Harbor has 226 mooring ball and most are occupied during the high season. They schedule weekly pump outs where the barge comes to you. There have two dingy docks, showers, laundry, project rooms, and a meeting room with library, television and Wi-Fi. This is a community with plenty of activities: pot luck dinners, movie night, music jams, and local entertainment. Information about the entire goings on is broadcast daily on VHF channel 68 at 9:00 am. I could stay here….
All communities have their dark side. If you want to know about the problems facing this harbor, check out www.cruisersnet.net. It is really important to know that this harbor is located in International Waters so the regulations are a bit different than what we’re used to. For example, we have to have an anchor light on at the mooring ball. Dinghies have to have a 360 degree white light at night and a fire extinguisher if it is motorized. The worst thing is for documented vessels; the moment they enter Florida waters, they are illegal and can be ticketed. I’m not here for politics, nor are the other boaters; this obviously needs to be resolved and the word out to documented vessels. We want to have a great vacation and fine memories. It is happening right here and right now in spite of all the difficulties of being a cruiser.