Finally! We went out overnight to sail her and see how she behaves on the hook (at anchor, in case I never define it anywhere else), what the power usage is, how the positions of the cabin fans work for us when there's at-anchor wind coming in the wind scoops and when there's not, how the refrigerator works when there's no A/C running outside the box (that is, when the cabin temperature rises a bit more). Even whether the knotmeter impellers really work and which depth gauge is most accurate. Many, many little things to think about.

But first, the fate of the dinghy. Remember the dinghy I shined up, the one we patched when a fisherman snagged the tube? Turns out the bottom of the transom on the port side was rotted. I consulted Mr. Ed Bright, and he suggested that a dumpster might be an appropriate final resting place, since actually replacing the transom would cost almost as much as just buying a new one. But we know about Git-Rot (link at right), a plasticizer that uses the cellulose of rotted wood to hold itself in place while it hardens, but essentially replaces the rotted wood with epoxy. Strong. Not pretty, but strong. Derek was already uncomfortable with the dinghy, since the outboard is 15HP and the dinghy was not really rated for 15, and this transom thing just slid him over the edge; not going to trust a git-rot transom out in the wild waves we will encounter occasionally in faraway places (where spare dinghies are not readily available). So we purchased from Defender the next generation of the same dinghy (Zodiac/Bombard "Zoom"), which by good fortune *is* rated for 15HP engines. This meant we had a repairable inflatable (to sell for $1 - facilitates title transfer) that would be useful for inland and near coastal work and could be git-rotted and support a smaller engine without worries. And fortunately for all, this is a friendly marina! The dinghy has a new home, with cruisers who will fix it up and use it (they had one of the all-around-tube inflatables that has to be rowed) with a small motor. TOO COOL!!!

As a result, for our inaugural cruise, we had THIS dinghy (she will get her name later this week). Derek and Grant took an initial row in her once she was inflated:


Then it was time to set out. We pulled out under both-engines' power, something I still have to get used to doing: I can spin her on a dime with one in fwd and one in rev, but I might miss the lateral position of that dime by several feet as yet! :-) Derek and Grant handled the docklines and fending us off from crushing impacts (OK, Grant isn't allowed to do crushing impact fending yet, but Derek was really useful there!), and Terry our cross-slip neighbor was really helpful too, tossing lines and being encouraging... so we did get out without running aground or hitting anything... well, not too hard...

Derek gets his turn at the helm:


We have to get used to the low-lying terrain. There are landmarks, but they are not always immediately obvious. You can also see that there's a small weather cell coming in from the Gulf (to port):


The new dinghy rides well beside our 4th-of-July-appropriate flag:


Partway to McRee we slid in front of that T-storm that was headed NE to Pensacola. The wind picked up and we hit 7.5 kts. The port side was thundery-looking and the starboard side was clear and cheerful -- weird contrasts, dramatic but without sharp edges. Grant's looking ahead to see where the edge of the cell is:


Once we were past that, Grant resumed his favorite place on the bow pulpit -- think a seat for that area would be a great addition!


A piece of history, on a broad reach: our baggy mainsail! This is the original dull red Prout Catamarans sail with the PC logo and our hull number, 180, on it. The marine surveyor said it still has a few years left in it, how about that. We'll let you know!

What we did find out was that the roller furling genoa has too much friction in the system right now. Derek wound up having to rotate the drum by hand at one point both to deploy and to furl. That won't do, so the first thing we have tried is treating the whole path of the roller furling line with dry lubricant. If needed, we will go to step two, new blocks for the line.

Grant gets his turn at the helm:


We headed over to Fort McRee, but it was really, really full of boats. Kind of like that Oscar Mayer commercial: fat boats, skinny boats, boat that climb on rocks... OK, NO boats were climbing on rocks, but many were pulled up to the beach, side by side in a long, long line. Many more were anchored in really close proximity. Not on our first trip, nuh-uh... so we anchored in a shallow spot between two points nearby. There were other sailboats all along this area, too, but they were a sedate distance apart, so it would be easier to anchor without annoying anyone. This guy had a racy little sailboat as a tender to his roomier sailboat:


And our nearest neighbor was this fun-loving couple who hoisted the colors once their anchor was set (arrrrh):


First order of business after anchoring (Derek was at the bow to make sure things were setting correctly and to attach his anchor bridle for its first real-world test) is to dive the anchor to be sure it's dug in correctly. Not to be left out of the cooling dip, Grant geared up for it as well. First he hands Derek his flippers...

Then joins in:


There's nothing like a free Dad tow when you're lazing about on pool toys:


Visibility was less than 5 feet in this water. Derek's following the chain down:


And diving where it disappears:


I watched the bubbles move away. Then Derek returned to report turning the anchor over so it would bite in, that the bottom is a kind of silty sand, and that he and Grant will use the pool toys as a platform to scrub Parallax's bottom! And so they did:



Once the bottom was cleaner, it was play time.


Meanwhile, I was deploying the wind scoops to harvest as much ventilation as I could get into the boat:


Got to chat with Harold online for a little bit -- he's in Edinburgh being a little touristic for a few days -- definitely a good idea! Our chat got cut off when we had to deal with a powerboat wake which managed to knock a radio off a countertop. Not everyone knows how to enter or leave an anchorage gently (but expecting things to stay on countertops -- that's just SO catamaran-ish!).

After sundowners and dinner, we sat out on the foredeck to watch fireworks going off under a crescent moon westward along the coastline and to play some music. It was peaceful and wonderful, and despite the earlier haze, some of the southerly constellations even came out to be seen (Antares in Scorpius was particularly visible).