Ann
05/15/2013, North Carolina

We thought the ICW (Intercoastal Waterways) would just be boring, but not so, it is hard work. First we dealt with 65 knot winds in the squall and last night we dragged anchor. We had worried about the set that afternoon, but the mud makes for poor sets. The anchorage protected us from the North, the wind blowing at the moment, and given time the anchor would settle deeper in the mud. Just after dark the wind shifted from the South and perked up to 15 knots; so much for our settled anchor. Dave started to worry and set the anchor alarm, which went off two minutes later. I was up and hauling in the anchor. Kara was up asking what she could do to help. Seeing nothing to do she went to her bed to wait for the excitement to pass. Anchor up, now we just had to thread our way past the crab pots we had avoided that afternoon. They were hard to see in daylight - low in the water and painted black, but almost impossible at night. I kept the flashlight pointed in front of us, basically sure of 10 feet of clear water. I don't know how we missed them, but we did. Next it was the frantic search for safe moorage for the night. We could head to a dock at Coijack, but had 15 miles of the twistyest, turniest course. There was an anchorage across the ICW, but it had a hook, and few notes from Active Captain (notes from cruisers about the best and the worst you can find), but a few miles more would take us to Buck Island and two anchorages. The first gave us slightly better protection than where we just left, but we missed the turn. We were trying to find a tug and barge that was working its way down the waterway. The next had two anchor lights that were not bobbing around. Once again I found 10 feet of clear water and we worked our way into the deep water (seven feet this time.) The wind was now 10, and good protection from the SW and the anchor dug in well, obviously this was the place to stop for the night. I went to tell Kara that all was well, but she was asleep, the first crisis I've known her to handle by sleeping.

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Ann
05/15/2013, North Carolina

We stayed at Deep Point for two days - the Anniversary- Birthday days, because yet another Cold Front would be coming through with winds from the NE. This was the best anchorage until the Chesapeake for those winds, so we sat. This ICW dimple does not have much to offer, since it is surrounded by marsh. No sign of humankind, even in the airways - no cell coverage. Dave and I had a fine 12th anniversary. Kara made a banner for us, and I cooked special food. I made my first successful pie crust, and we enjoyed a great apple-cherry pie. The wind was milder than expected, but we still sat. Kara's birthday had a bit more fanfare. I had used my time in Florida and Charleston to find some presents of interest. Kara planned the meals - one of them even a little healthy - and designed the cake. Kara spent the day playing and watching movies. It was a good day. We had promised Kara that we would not transit on her birthday. A promise we could keep. Last year Kara wished she could celebrate her birthday in the states, but I'm not sure that this lived up to her anticipation.

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Ann
05/15/2013, North Carolina

The thousand miles from the tip of Florida to Sag Harbor, for us, includes 200 miles of the ICW. We could have picked up the channel in the Keys, but we would have hit on both end - the keel in the mud and the mast on some bridges. We also knew it would involve lots and lots of motoring. The ICW is part natural inland waters, and part canal dug in the 1930's to create a water highway between the Chesapeake and Southern Florida. We opted to sail off-shore, rather than motor inland. The final 200 miles avoids Cape Hatteras, for those on the West coast this is the Cape Mendacino of the mid-Atlantic states, for those on the East Coast it is the widow-maker of a coast. Dave and I have motored around Mendacina twice, but with the weather we have been having, we decided to play it safe. Anyway, we have heard about the beauty of the ICW. It is beautiful, in a low country kind of way, but the Inside Passage in Canada is majestic. One thing the ICW has stunning sunsets and. Our first day up the ICW was as expected, seven hours of motoring. We were able to motor sail the last hour, ya hoo. We pulled off and anchored in Goose Creek. We found the deep spot - eight feet and set the hook. Without a tidal drop or lift we were fine for the night. Dave and I are learning new anchoring skills to find a spot in this thin stuff. We can't motor around to check all the depths, because at six feet we are aground, so we trust the charts - not something we ever did in Central America. We set out 10:1 chain, opposed to our old 5:1, and worry. You never know when soft mud will liquefy and off you go. We were protected from the wind, so our worry was unnecessary. Day two dawned with cherry red stripes fading to coral wisps, and the orange orb rising quickly. The 15 knots from last night was still with us, and we were leaving a man-made cut for an open bay. Time to set the chute! As my mother would say "we had a glorious sail" for half of our daily passage of 42 miles. Then we hit Alligator cut and were able to motor sail with the genoa. I felt like we stole a day of glee from in our itinerary. The transition from Alligator Cut to Alligator River is a very small bay. We passed a boat motoring into the 15 knot wind, and smirked that we were in shorts, but they had full foulies. Dave and I were sitting in the cockpit planning our sun shower as soon as we anchored, when the wind suddenly gusted to 20 knots, and didn't drop. We had 1.5 miles to the anchorage, and decided to furl the genoa. That is when I looked back to see the huge, black thunderstorm bearing down on us. I hurled things down below, like the camera, clothes and books, I even grabbed a foulie jacket for myself (I offered one to Dave, but he declined) before the full brunt hit. Dave kept aiming for the anchorage, and I watched anometer climb as the rain came down in streams. 30 knots, fine, 45 knots, I've seen that before but I don't like it, 50 knots, we should peak soon, 55 knots, this first blow only lasts a few minutes. Visibility was the limit of our boat - just rain behind us, and nothing past the bow. The crack of lightning and the drum of thunder, simultaneous, 58 knots, it should go down now, the waves behind us were building, and we were in 15 feet of water. 62 knots, is this like the micro burst in El Salvador? 65.8 knots, hurricane force. Then 63 knots, it is finally going in the right direction. Where will it settle, please drop below 50, yes we have 45 knots. The lightning didn't expand our visibility; the rain was a curtain around us. 35 knots and holding, we passed the anchorage, and the landscape opened before us - not a good thing, because we wouldn't have any wind or wave break, and we also wouldn't have deep water. I pulled a cushion in front of the companionway to keep some of the rain from blowing down the steps. Visibility is better, we can see a power boat, just off the ICW, they must have known we had no place to go, and got out of our way. Thank you. Dave sent me down below to find another anchorage, but I couldn't get the computer to recognized the GPS, and before the river delta there were only two anchorages, really dimples off the ICW, exposed to the SW storm. I don't want to anchor in 35 knots, especially at Deep Point, which sports 9 feet of water (misnamed in my book.) I'm blinded by another crack of lightning, but I don't hear the thunder for half a second. It is passing. We turn around and head for Deep Point, by the time we have the hook down it is blowing a mere 23 knots. Where was Miss Kara during all this drama? Our clever girl found her own emergency to handle. She saw the leak over our bed turn from a drip to a stream. She grabbed some towels and protected our bed. Thank you. I found why I couldn't get the computer-GPS connection. I forgot to turn on the back-up GPS, the one connected to the computer - oops. Dave and I stripped off our soaking clothes, and lamented the loss of the sun shower. Kara felt that the cold rain was an adequate replacement for the sun shower. Too bad I hadn't grabbed the shampoo.

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Kara
05/15/2013, Florida and S. Carolina

We are in St. Augustine because of weather. Mom remembers a big slide that is not here anymore. The city is really amazing so we are glad we are staying. There are two different tours: The Red Train Tour and the Old Towne Trolley. We also went on a tour of a chocolate factory and we went on a tour of Castillo de San Marcos. Did you know that St. Augustine is the oldest city in the U.S.A.? Did you know that Castillo de San Marcos is the oldest fort in the U.S.A.? The oldest house is not the oldest house built in the U.S.A. The oldest houses built were burned down by pirates. The oldest house is called the oldest house because the old thing in it.

Fort Sumter We went to Fort Sumter. Fort Sumter is a National Park. There was a ranger talk when we arrived. I didn't really pay attention to tell you the truth though Mom did. The Fort had three levels, but two levels were destroyed. Only one level is still there. There is a museum about the Fort and its history. The Fort was started in 1830. It was never really finished.

A Mother's Note: between the two cities we spent almost three weeks at these grand old cities. St Augustine was a great spot to wait out a cold front. We spent three days at Castillo de San Marcos, learning about the different tenants - the Spanish, the British, the Spanish again, the Americans and finally the National Park Service. Kara took part in the Junior Ranger program, which ensured we read every placard and handout. We toured the city by trolley and by foot, finding excellent food and gems of interest. I even found a great farm stand with a wide selection of fruits and vegetables, but alas no Florida Oranges, no one sells those. Charleston also had us stopped for a week of stormy weather. We found a great, inexpensive (all is relative) dock with a weekly rate, that was also less than a ten minute walk from all the historic sites. Kara and I spent a great day at the Aquarium and even took a tour by horse and carriage. I was able to find some birthday treats for Dave and Kara. The National Park Service gave us an excellent background to discuss the antebellum and civil war South. Fort Sumter has two sections, the visitor center on the mainland and the Fort itself. The visitor center was our first stop in the city. To visit the Fort itself we anchored off and took the dinghy into the dock. It wasn't as easy as we thought for we had to climb a 10 foot ladder. Going up was not fun, but coming down coincided with a squall, so really not fun. We signed Kara up for the Junior Ranger program (the hardest one yet), but were disappointed that not all the information was posted. One question was answered during the ranger talk, and another required asking a ranger. It forced Kara to be more outgoing than she wished. Despite these downfalls Fort Sumter was a high point of our time in Charleston.

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Ann
05/01/2013, St Augustine

I know it is time to update the blog when I start getting emails asking if we are still sailing. We have been in Florida for the last six weeks, and every day seems to rush past. The title is a list of what has affected our time in the Sunshine State. After the Dry Tortugas we sailed over night to Key West, where we found a soaking wet V-berth, and once again I was denied access to my bed. We waited out a weather system in Key West, visiting the city. It was our first chance to buy groceries, we're excited to see fresh milk and a huge variety of cheeses. This was a small, family-owned store, just wait until we reach a supermarket.
With fine weather we made the hop from Key West to Marathon, and began to fill our time with friends. When Dave and I sailed ten years ago we became great friends with Sangaris and Siesta. Ed and Daisy on Siesta live on their slice of heaven in Marathon. They have Siesta tied up to their dock, their motor home parked by the side of the house, their little house upstairs, and a guest bathroom under the house - for guests like us, who bring their own bed and kitchen, but it would be nice not to fill the holding tank. Ed and Daisy always have a full plate, and this was no exception, for we were the second guests visiting. Dan and Martha had their RV parked in front of the house. Ed was getting ready to take a charter of Boy Scouts out on Siesta through the Keys, and Daisy was getting ready to host their grand-daughters.
After we dried out the boat, again, we realized that we were looking at another cold front. Dave and I looked at who we wanted to visit, and the locations, and thought things would be easier by car. So we rented a car and drove to my cousin's house in Miami. We had one evening and morning to catch up. It was far too short. Then we invaded Craig and Katherine, Sangaris in Boca Raton. I won't say they live in their slice of heaven, but only because Sangaris is in Turkey, so they still move to a different paradise as the wind blows them. Their condo in Boca was a great place to catch up. We also made a pilgrimage to the Playmobil Fun Park, which turned out to be a room filled with toddlers playing with playmobil sets - half the pieces glued down, and parents ignoring the suggested age signs. They did have a huge Playmobil store, with everything marked 25% off. Kara is now penniless, but has two new sets that she has been eyeing for awhile.
Kara was not the only to spend her pennies on this trip. We visited almost every Verizon store in South Florida trying to get a WiFi system for the boat. There were about six options. And each store had a different version. It felt like a colossal waste of time, but it was hard to make the decision. The other big purchase was to find a spinnaker, for Taking Flight without a spinnaker is just not our boat. We blew the old one going to Isla Mujeres. We found a used one, which had little use in Fort Lauderdale. It is wonderful, an asymmetrical, the only down side is that it is solid blue, so much for the color scheme of the boat.
Once back in Marathon we had one last play day with Ed and Daisy, and their grand-daughters Lily and Caitlin. We toured the Dolhpin Research Center, where Ed is a member. This is very different from the place on Isla Mujeres, for here the dolphins have choices. During hurricanes they send the dolphins out to sea for the storm, and the dolphins all come back. The dolphins push through the plastic gates between the pens, but never try for the ocean. Also, the dolphins do "tricks" when the staff isn't around, and they teach their young some of the tricks.
Finally it was time to make our way North. We day hopped through the Keys, and then turned the corner for Miami. This time I took everything out of the V-berth, and laid a plastic sheet over the lockers. The Gulf Stream was great, and we were sailing 8 or 9 knots up the coast. Things were looking up. The V-berth stayed dry.
We had another Cold Front to contend with at the end of the week, but maybe we could get to Palm Beach before it hit. One night in Miami and we were on our way. It was not as comfortable as the day before, but we still had a favorable current. The V-berth stayed dry, so I could sleep in my cozy bed.
In Lake Worth (Palm Beach) we waited out the weather system. Kara made a friend at the Sailing Club, and had a playdate with her. We toured Peanut Island for the day, which is an island made from dredging spoils. It used to be a Coast Guard station, and housed a bunker for President Kennedy, for when he was visiting the family home in Palm Beach.
Our next stop along the coast was Cape Canaveral. Again the length of time spent here was determined by an oncoming Cold Front. I was excited to stop here, having always wanted to visit the Kennedy Space Center. First things first, we rented a car and drove to Orlando. Not for Disney World, but Universal Studios, where they have the Wizzarding World of Harry Potter. Kara and I loved walking down High street in Hogsmeade, and staring at the Hogwarts edifice. The first ride was a bit wild for my girl, but once we discovered riding a Hippogriff there was no turning her off. We also enjoyed the River Rats Barge, but once the sun dipped, we no longer wished to be completely soaked. It was a great day.
Before returning the car we went to the Kennedy Space Center. Things were not as great, for Kara was exhausted after the long day before. She didn't understand why Dave and I were so excited. She has heard more about NASA failures than successes. She knows the story of the Mars probe that crashed because someone missed the change from meters to feet. She has seen the plaques commemorating the crews of Columbia and Challenger. Then she learned about Apollos 1 and 13, and she thinks the entire space program has been a waste of human life. She just wasn't psyched to see things about the Space Station or Mars trips.
Now we sit in St. Augustine, waiting through another Cold Front.

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Ann
05/01/2013, Marathon, Florida

I don't think I should obsess about my bed as much as I do. I sleep well in my bed, and I feel excited when I get into it. I've been thinking about my bed, because I couldn't sleep in it for three days, and I missed it.
We waited in Isla Mujeres for 10 days, waiting for our next weather window. What we had wasn't a window, but more like a mouse hole. The day before we left I cooked, and we stowed the boat for the 300 mile passage. Kara and I took Sturgeron, and Dave put on a Scopalamine patch, to prevent seasickness. We figured it would take us about 48 hours to sail to the Dry Tortugas, an archipelago at the end of the Florida Keys. I didn't sleep well the night before our intended departure. The wind was howling in the anchorage. I woke at dawn, and Dave was looking at our weather sources. Since it was Sunday, Chris Parker the weather guru would not be on the SSB. The winds were high, but due to subside in the afternoon. Dave agreed to wait a few hours, to let the wind abate. I went back to bed, my cozy bed. Two hours later it was still blowing in the 20's in the lee of the island, but he couldn't wait any longer.
Leaving the anchorage was not too bad, and the wind was from behind us. We were still sheltered by the island, and we rocketed on our way. We wondered if the island was accelerating the wind, or sheltering it. Once we were North of Mujeres we knew. We had been sheltered, and were in 30 to 35 knots of wind. We had left in a gale! Our rum line, the straight line we wished to follow, was a loose beat, but we sailed a beam reach, which sent us in a more Northerly direction. It was a horrible day, with the seas building from the high winds. After an hour we thought about turning back, but gave it a little more time. By 10:30 AM we couldn't return to Isla Mujeres, it would be sailing directly into the wind. I whispered to Kara that the winds would die, and then the seas, and then repeated it to myself, part mantra, part prayer. Finally in the mid afternoon the winds dropped below 30, and by evening it had calmed to the mid-20's. When it was gale force, Dave said "20 knots will feel great." It didn't really, because the seas were still over 10 feet. It was a hard night, and we slept in our sea berths. My bed in the v-berth was pounding into the waves.
The next day the winds abated below 20, and the seas also dropped below 6 feet. Things were much better, but we were all so exhausted that we couldn't enjoy the improvement. We were waiting for the wind to die as the GRIB files predicted. The wind never died, and by nightfall returned to the mid 20's. On night two I went forward and found the V-berth awash. The chain locker had leaked, again. We keep thinking we have fixed this problem, but we only find out our mistake when we are pushing the bow through gallons of water. In the head (the bathroom) the five gallons of fresh water we keep there had jumped its lashings spilling fresh water. At the same time the bottle of vegetable oil I use to lubricate the gaskets in the head, had tipped over. The boat felt like a colossal mess.
I was sleeping in the port sea berth when I heard a new sound. It sounded like the anchor was banging into the bow. I had tied the anchor to the bow, but had tried a new way. The old ways kept chaffing, so I tried wrapping the anchor with line. Chaff had won again, and then the anchor jerked sharply and caused the chain to jump over the cleat I had secured it to. Two of my three ways to secure the anchor had failed, only the extra wrap around the cleat kept the anchor from pulling the windlass. Dave went forward and hauled the anchor back onto the bow, but took multiple waves over his head in the process. We were both shaken afterwards.
The next morning we arrived at Garden Key in the Dry Tortugas. With the anchor set we began to access the clean up. The head was the most dangerous, so I tackled that first. Then we hauled our mattresses out on deck to dry. I opened lockers and found everything on the port side was soaked. It was going to take a long time to dry everything. I would need to dry the lockers in shifts, since we don't have enough room to spread everything out. By afternoon the winds shifted and began to increase. By the next day a cold front came through and we listened as two boats tried to make the Dry Tortugas, they were in gale force winds, but on the nose. We also heard from a boat that stayed in Isla Mujeres, they will probably still be there for the next week. We left in a gale, had a miserable passage, but I'm glad we didn't wait for the winds to die before we left. We could have stayed in Isla Mujeres, but three weeks to a month would have been a long time.
We opened the windlass locker to find a label from our pail blocking the drain; hence all the water went down below. From now on I will empty that locker, tie the anchor with another line and wrap the chain. I just wish I could set an elephant on top of the anchor to keep it in place.
After two days of drying things out I finally got to put the sheets back on my bed. I climbed under my comforter and exhaled. I was in my favorite bed in the world.

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