From the Captain

Heading down through Florida

11/25/13-12/1/16 Marineland, Florida.

This is probably the strongest cold front we've encountered, and we felt we should stay with Luna until the worst of it passes. Which it did, but not until later on the 26th. That gave us a couple days of not much happening. Which actually felt kind of good. There is a state park adjacent to Marineland, and we took a long walk through the semi tropical forest among the live oaks and giant palms. We were able to walk on the beach along a coquina outcropping. Unfortunately, we were not able to check out Marineland. There is a virus among dolphins, and the area is quarantined to outsiders. Especially to mariners like ourselves who might have been exposed to the virus by wild dolphins swimming by. I was wondering how one would diagnose a runny nose in a dolphin, but the virus is more virulent than that. There have been reports of dolphins dying from the Carolinas through Georgia.

We did learn about Marineland from some of the plaques along the beach side boardwalk south of the facility. Apparently, it was built in 1937 and opened in 1938, making it the oldest theme park in Florida. One of the founders was W. Douglas Burden, who lived in our hometown, Charlotte, VT, for a while. Another was Leo Tolstoy's grandson. Originally, the facility was called Marine Studios of Florida, and it was conceived as an aquatic movie studio. Indeed, The Creature From the Black Lagoon was filmed there as was the Lloyd Bridges TV series, Sea Hunt.

In its earlier days, Marineland was an upscale destination. Ernest Hemingway was a customer of Moby Dick's Bar there. By the end of the 1970's, it entered a period of decline. But now the University of Florida has a research facility there, and the dolphin tanks have been taken over and refurbished by a Georgia aquarium firm.

Beyond the marina, we can also thank Marineland for providing us an appreciation of the local culture. Local culture and a strong sense of community are attributes I have considered Florida to be lacking. A Florida writer noted that the state is populated mainly by two types of people: either old people waiting to die or rapacious developers looking for opportunities to turn the landscape to their own profit. He might have added those who don't really live here at all but maintain a residence because Florida has no state income tax. Among none of these groups is there any concern for the land or the environment or the state itself. This is a false generality, of course, but you don't have to drive far through southern Florida to start to believe it. The belief is reinforced by the general disdain for planning and environmental control among the succession of Republican administrations.

The park around Marineland and the estuaries we pass in the northern part of the state give us hope. I am impressed that Florida is the easiest of all states we've passed to get Luna's holding tank pumped. All three places we've stopped have offered free pump outs as part of the dock fee. Adding to the sense of community are two events we attended here. On Tuesdays, there is a farmers' market at Marineland. Today, the weather is cool, drizzly, and the wind is starting, but people show up. We bought a bag of frozen crab cakes from the crab cake lady. We had a cup of Minorcan clam chowder and bought a pound of fresh shrimp from a seafood vendor. We bought some fresh veggies. And from a Russian lady selling baked goods, we bought some sesame bagels.

We returned to the marina after Thanksgiving in time to attend a concert that was part of the Gamble Rogers folk festival. We heard Sam Pacetti and Gabe Valla, a great guitar duo, sing and play. About a hundred others attended the event in the Marineland auditorium.

Gamble Rogers, a storyteller and folk musician, is a local legend and hero. On one visit, we heard him play at the Tradewinds in downtown St. Augustine. Jimmy Buffett and David Bromberg count him as an influence. The hero part came in 2001 when he was on the beach in Flagler. A man was caught in a riptide, and he swam into the surf with an air mattress to rescue him. Neither survived. The annual folk festival binds the community and keeps his memory alive. As do the state parks named after him.

We learned that friends of the former governor wanted to establish a youth golf camp with (of course) a large high-rise luxury hotel. This would be at the Washington Oaks state gardens. A group of dedicated environmentalists stopped those plans. Others are working to block current attempts by private space firms to develop industrial sites near the marshland by the Kennedy Space Center. So there are Floridians who do not want to see the entire state drained of wetlands and paved over.

Rain and strong southwest winds came overnight on the 26th into the 27th. Even in the protected harbor, Luna tossed in her slip. People say this November has seen unusually unsettled weather along the southeast coast. The good news is that Luna's cabin leaks are all but stopped. There are a couple small drips in the corners of the windows on both sides. I have been using a preparation called Captain Tolley's Creeping Crack Cure that I found recommended on the internet and bought at West Marine. Despite the mind's attempts to insert one, there is no "Butt" in the name. This thin liquid finds the leaks, penetrates them, and hardens into a vinyl sealer. It seems to have worked well around the windows and along the toe rails.

By the afternoon of the 27th, the winds had moderated somewhat, and we readied ourselves to leave Luna to spend a few days in Ormond Beach. By "readied" I mean packing sheets, towels, and most of our clothes for laundering. In the meantime, our good old biking and hiking friend, Brett Poirier, who lives in California, is visiting family and friends in the southeast. He arrived in St. Augustine and drove down with a friend to meet us. We visited for a bit, then they drove us to Flagler for lunch. There is a great burrito place there--The Burrito Works. It's the size of a food cart. you order up inside and take your order outside to eat. The UFO burrito is the one to get.

Vintage clothing in Daytona

We had Thanksgiving with my father, Siri, and two of her friends. We took their car and did some shopping and visited an old friend, Barbara Scott, and her son, Danny, who have established Moxie Vintage, a clothing, furniture, and accessory shop in Daytona. Three months into it, they're doing great with a steady clientele of repeat customers. They seem truly at home there. If I attend a yard sale or a rummage sale and can't find anything worthwhile, I imagine it's because Danny or Barbara has come earlier and found all the good stuff with their perfect retro vision.

My brother lives in the area, but has found steady carpentry work in St. Thomas. Maybe we'll get to see him on our way back. His friend, Cynthia, joined us on Friday night for leftovers of Siri's Mexican Thanksgiving dinner from the night before. This time, we didn't even get past the appetizers: quesadillas, carnitas, shrimp with fresh salsa, and pico de gallo. The turkey with mole sauce makes great sandwiches, however.

Pot holder for Luna's Galley

My dad is doing well. At 89 he still works in his woodshop. I had sent him some measurements for a holder for Luna's frying pan. He had this for us when we arrived. He and Siri went over their charts and experiences of the Bahamas from their 15 years of cruising and living there. We looked at the guidebooks we had brought.

By November 30, we were back on Luna tidying up and getting ready to move southward on December 1.





December 1, 2013. Marineland to Seven Seas Marina, Daytona Beach Shores, FL. 33nm.

We spent a couple more days in the area. Seven Seas is an old marina and not nearly as polished as the others we've used. On Active Captain, the bathrooms are accurately described as "grim." The commander is ready to use the shower on Luna instead. My report was: lots of hot water and great water pressure. She came ashore.

The marina is attached to Pat's Riverside Cafe, a gem of a place to have breakfast and lunch. I had a wonderful three-egg omelet (Mariner Special) with home fries. We had an appointment in Daytona and had an early dinner with my father and Siri who drove us into town and back.

Jerry, Siri, and Brie

Back at the marina, we lingered a little over goodbye. Perhaps this is understandable with aging parents or aging friends, which group is starting to include us. We don't know when a goodbye really means goodbye and not "till I'll see you again." Hugs to Siri. My dad and I shook hands, then shook hands again. I'm not sure whether the vibe is coming from him or me--or both simultaneously.

December 3, 2013. Seven Seas Marina to Cocoa, FL. 55.4 nm.

We're up and out early. It's a travel day. We have spent time in St. Augustine, at Marineland, and two days at Seven Seas. It feels like time to move south. We find we can cover a lot of ground if we leave at 7 am. We were in Cocoa by 4:30, anchored just north of the Cocoa-Merritt Island bridge, on the east side.

Motoring down the wide Indian River

The waterway here follows rivers and sounds. The rivers are fairly wide, but the channel is narrow and straight. As if someone said, "Let's crank up the old John Deere," and, having done so, plowed a single furrow straight down the Intracoastal Waterway. We turned on the autopilot, which suddenly seems to be working. Prior to this, it would suddenly throw the wheel over in one direction or another, putting Luna into a tight circle. I have had the control unit rebuilt by the factory, the compass checked, and I replaced the wire from compass to control box. Waiting in Marineland, I dove back under the deck to see if there were any loose connections in the control arm--the final component of the system we have not checked. All seemed fine. When I got it back together, it worked. In medicine, we would call this a sham operation. The placebo effect cured the patient. I believe the cure for the system was tightening the grounding screw, which I had done some weeks back. This is the first time we had tried the autopilot.

Dolphin Races Luna

Heading south from Daytona, we began to see dolphins again. Between Marineland and here, we hadn't seen any. Perhaps the water in the upper reaches of the Halifax River is too brackish for them. Perhaps the weather was just too cool, rainy, and the seas too rough. Maybe the fishing was bad. Maybe they're wary of getting anywhere near Marineland. In any case, as we approached the Ponce de Leon inlet above New Smyrna beach, they appeared in good numbers. This always feels like a good sign.

Below New Smyrna, the Halifax River gives way to the wide Indian River. The marsh grasses of the Carolinas and George and northern Florida are replaced by mangroves--bushy trees whose roots grow up out of the water. Eventually, the roots grow in and form the basis for new land masses. In the meantime, they harbor emergent marine life.

There is a happening in the skies. SpaceX, a California company, has been set to launch a rocket carrying an 8,000-lb telecommunications satellite from Cape Kennedy for the past week or so. After some technical delays, it is set for 5:41 this evening. The commander is following the countdown on her iPhone. The countdown continues as we sit at anchor watching the sky to the northeast of us. Before the counter reaches zero, we see a large orange glow, then a bright light that illuminates the water like an intense sunset. The light rises slowly, a vapor trail appearing between it and the land. It heads off to the east, going slower than we would have guessed. There is a brief dull roar. Soon the light is lost in the sky.

Views of Cape Kennedy Rocket Launch

The night is clear, calm, and the water flat. We haven't anchored out since the troublesome spots at Cumberland Island, and it feels good to be back at it. There is a slight formality to marina life, a bother with the lines, an unnatural relationship of the boat to the prevailing wind. To be sure there are benefits: a safe harbor, stores, bathrooms, electric power, and the ability to get off the boat occasionally. But we're glad to be back, freely swinging on our anchor line.

12/4/2013. Cocoa to Vero Beach, FL 47.3 nm.

Following the magenta line on the Garmin

Carrying the dinghy on the foredeck, we really have impaired vision when we sit at the helm and look through the vinyl windshield of the dodger. Ordinarily we stand and peer over the dodger. I am at the helm, seated. I'm following the magenta line on the Garmin and using that to pilot the boat. My mind wanders over the scenery, the dolphins, the pelicans. Aside from small motorboats, all the traffic on the ICW is heading south, as we are.

For some reason, I stand at the helm. Imagine my surprise to see another sailboat close by heading right for us. Clearly, he is also following the magenta line, heading north. We are like two freight trains going toward each other on the same track, heading for disaster. I swing the boat quickly to starboard, passing the northbound boat port to port. We are close enough to shout. I see the name on the other boat is Elle and I. I know this boat from Point Bay Marina, although I do not know the owners. I shout, "Vermont!"  They shout, "Yes!" I imagine the dreadful coincidence: two Vermont boats collide more than a thousand miles from home.

We reached Vero Beach by 3PM and got the last open mooring ball in the municipal mooring field. The marina never turns anyone away. If all the moorings are full, they will allow newcomers to raft up with other boats. Lots of boats come after we do. The staff in the office is way too busy, answering VHF calls, registering new arrivals. It's a popular spot.

Rafting up in Vero Beach Harbor

Vero Beach is nicknamed Velcro Beach by the cruising community. Once you come, it's hard to leave. Indeed, people at the marina are very friendly. We met some locals at the dinghy dock with a Vermont connection. There is a free shuttle bus that comes hourly for trips to the stores in town. The weather is nice. The beach is a mile's walk to the east.

We said hello to Mike, the retired marine from Michigan sailing to the northern Bahamas. He was docked behind us in Charleston. This trip is like that: boats are traveling at roughly the same speed. People stop here and there. But you keep running into the same people as you travel south. We have been keeping up an email conversation with Bob and Annie, the couple from Massachusetts on Spindrift whom we met in Annapolis. They are behind us, but I'm sure we'll run into them sooner or later.

Our friends, Jimmy and Barbie on Blue Jay are here, and we have made arrangements to meet them for dinner. We are literally in the same boat--theirs. But in other ways, too: They are planning to leave their boat and spend the next month back north. We are heading to Stuart, FL, tomorrow, and will leave Luna there for a few days. Leaving our boats unattended at their respective marinas means cleaning out the fridges. Barb has been carrying some pulled pork that she wants to use up (pity!). And we have some cauliflower in our fridge. The commander makes a delicious roasted cauliflower and parmesan dish, and we bring that and some smoked salmon and herb cheese along with our cocktails in the dinghy over to Blue Jay.

Tris and Preetha are vacationing on Sanibel Island with her extended family. Preetha called and invited us to come. We jumped at the chance to see them and get in some grandparent time with Zara and Violet. So we signed up for a car rental with Enterprise and will drive to the west coast of Florida and use some extra time to see Don and Joan Zeiter, our Long Point neighbors in their winter home in Naples. And we'll skip over and visit my mom in Boynton Beach.

The weather has turned sunny and warmer and quite nice. It is a clear night, and the water is dead calm. Instead of closing the companionway hatch, we leave the screen on for the night.

Vero Beach Bridge at sunset