January 15, 2011
The last report was from the dock at the boat yard where we store Gratitude for the off season. We finally got all straightened away to depart (including having Thumbelina checked out by a vet and getting her Bahamian papers). We pulled away from the dock at about 4:00 pm on Tuesday, January 11. We travelled through the canal system toward the lock and anchored in the Lake, preparing for an early morning departure on the 12th to catch the high tide outside the lock. We arose at 6:00 am, but then diddled around too long having breakfast and getting everything shipshape (i.e. doing things to prepare to pass through the lock that we should have done the night before). We up anchored at about 7:00 and headed to the lock but we were not the first there, plus we were further inside the Lake than we had thought so it took us longer to get there than anticipated. The other boat (also from the yard and from Vermont) had some difficulties with the manual locking system (it is a self-operated lock and always causes problems). But, watching them go first helped us see what to do differently and what not to do. We were in the lock by about 8:15 (high tide was at 7:42) and finally through by about 8:30. Obviously, we missed the high (much less the rising high) and the "high" was only a mid high, not a full high, hence not as much water as we would have liked or should have had. Leaving the lock is a circuitous series of channel markers with warnings (from friends) to hug this one or that. We did touch bottom at the shallowest point, but were able to squeeze through the mud out into the open water (relatively deep at 8 feet!).
Our first stop was the Burnt Store Marina for dinghy fuel and a few other matters of preparation and then we headed over to Pelican Bay on Cayo Costa Island (a state park and one of our favorite anchorages). We arrived at about 2:00, readied the dinghy, and went ashore for a walk to the Gulf side beach. The winds were blowing and the seas were rolling, but it did not look too bad. We celebrated being out on the open water and underway at last.
Our celebration came too soon. (Pelican Bay is a lovely anchorage, but difficult to enter - very shallow entrance and one has to hug the north shore beach to find the deepest water. I mean hug - we enter only about 40' from the beach and, if someone had a beer concession, it feels as if we could reach out for a cold one.) Again, the early morning tide was not a full high and the winds were blowing hard from the north (and had been for all night). As we approached the point of departure, the depth gauge (even in the deeper spots) registered too close for comfort. Discretion being the better part of valor, we turned back and re-anchored. We revisited our options because the high high tide was scheduled for 5:00 that evening - too late to go anyplace within Charlotte Harbor before dark and far to late to make our next usual port of call, Naples. Finally, we decided to make an overnight passage, skipping Naples and Marco Island altogether, and head for Little Shark River in the Everglades. We plotted our course, put the dinghy up on deck (the forecast was winds in the 20-25 knot range and we would be in a following sea, so it would be easier not to tow the dinghy and worry about it all night).
At about 3:00 PM, we pulled anchor and headed out. Although the tide was not high, we calculated it would be high enough and rising so that, if we struck bottom, we soon would be floated off. We passed the "beer concession stand" and made it out with water to spare. Exiting Charlotte Harbor, one passes through the Boca Grande (Big Mouth) cut and then follows along a reef system on the north side of the channel. The waves were crashing over the reef and we set a partially furled jib to steady the boat as we headed out under power. When we finally reached the outer mark, we turned south, running before the wind, and unfurled the jib to its full size. Because we were making hull speed with just the jib and because we would be sailing all night, downwind (when having multiple sails can create real confusion), we decided to run under jib alone. We made excellent time, registering a steady 7+ knots. We watched the sun set, a gorgeous, entirely vertical rainbow, and the moon rise as the day came to a close.
At one point, during her watch and as the winds built (to over 30 knots), Lauren said the boat speed meter (not as accurate as the GPS) registered 9-10 knots (we really were doing 8-9, still no slouch). At about 3:00 AM, we decided we were doing so well that we would alter course to Marathon (on Boot Key). As we approached, we called the City Marina to see whether they had "room at the inn" (i.e. whether a mooring would be available; because Marathon is a favorite departure point for boats going to the Bahamas, it often gets full - and there are 220 moorings at that one facility alone!). We were assured they did and were welcomed back by the familiar voice of Ann. When we started the engine and put it in gear, we heard an unfamiliar "thump thump". We put it in neutral and looked astern because that is the sound a crab pot float makes when it hits the hull. Sure enough, we had snagged one (which may explain why our speed recently had declined from 8 to 5.5 knots). Fortunately, one of the improvements we made this year was to install a Prop Protector - a ring of razor sharp stainless steel that surrounds the propeller shaft. It did its job, the line was cut, and we were freed from our pesty little float.
We arrived at the mooring at 2:00 having travelled about 150 miles in 21 hours (not counting the time to make the harbor entrance and pick up the mooring, etc.), which is excellent time. We readied the dinghy and went to see Ann, who had our paperwork all ready when we came ashore. We didn't even need to sign in - it felt like "Cheers, where everybody knows your name." Showers felt wonderful, we were pleased to have made such distances, and to have picked up literally 2-3 days (by avoiding the intermediate stops customary to a trip south), and we were especially pleased to lay our heads on our pillows for a good night's sleep.
Friday morning, we set about doing chores - replenishing water, topping off the larder, getting some new parts for the hot water heater that was installed last fall (the plastic/nylon fittings keeps expanding and leaking), etc. One need was to replenish the supply of LP. At first, we were told they could not fill the tank because it did not have the proper valve (even though the same place had refilled them last year and the same rules were in place). We called the LP gas company, expecting to have to replace the valves and were told that would take weeks! We were crestfallen. Fortunately, the manager just returned and he said the lay down tanks are exempt from the new valve requirements. He advised us to return to the filling station and tell them all was OK, so we did and the tank was filled. Hallelujah, we can cook!
We had a delightful - and delicious - lunch with our friend Bill R. and we caught up on his and his family's news and the goings on at the Community Theatre where Bill volunteers, this time as stage manager for one of the season's productions. Bill, who was widowed five years ago, has come alive again with his involvement in the community, which is a delight to see. We completed our shopping, returned to Gratitude, and worked on projects (including re-plumbing the water heater) to enable us to get out at first light.
Saturday (1/15) dawned bright and beautiful and we departed Marathon at 7:00 AM. It will be a motoring day, as the wind is in our teeth, but the batteries need a good charge and we are happy to oblige them. Tonight, we will anchor in the lee of Rodriguez Key and make our plans from there. In the meanwhile, our buddy boats in Miami (Sanity II and Igloo) are awaiting the turn of the wind and our arrival so we can cross to the Bahamas together, as originally planned. Maybe all those "issues" and "problems of abundance" we experienced were intended to slow us down and ready us for the crossing. We will let you know.