To Key Biscayne

From the Captain

He who fights and runs away may turn and fight another day.     Tacitus, Roman historian 50-120 A.D.

As my old pappy used to say, 'He who fights and runs away lives to run away another day.'  Brett Maverick, TV western character 1957-62

12/23/13 Ft. Lauderdale to Virginia Key, FL  30nm

Today we bailed. The plan was to sail with our friends on Mar-a-Lago. Their mast is too high to go under the Julia Tuttle Causeway in North Miami. So we planned to leave Port Everglades and sail offshore to the Government Cut in Miami, about 20 miles. Today's forecast looked a little better than yesterday's. SE winds 12-17 kts, seas 2-4 ft. We are heading due south, so should be able to sail the distance.

Luna left first. We motored out the inlet and once again learned the fallibility of wind forecasting. We encountered 20-kt winds with gusts to 25. Direction was SSE, too far south to be able to sail. Waves were 4-6 feet. We don't mind sailing in such conditions, but motoring into wind and big waves is simply no fun for us or Luna.

We turned back and passed Mar-a-Lago on her way out. We talked on the radio. We're going to motor down the ICW to Miami. Or we can anchor back in Ft. Lauderdale and wait another day. Brian and Jane decide to see for themselves what the conditions are like and wind up making the trip off shore. They arrived in Miami a little before we did, though considerably more jostled and sprayed.

Our plan was to moor the boats at the public marina at Dinner Key, below Miami. This is a huge

View of the Miami Skyline from the Stadium anchorage

facility. But the weather has been windy ever since we arrived at Ft. Lauderdale last week, and there are many boats waiting for a break in the weather to make the trip to the Bahamas. In keeping with the season, there is no room at the inn for us.

Instead, we anchored across Biscayne Bay at the site of the Miami speedboat racing stadium. This was built in 1962 and sits on a large protected basin. There is plenty of room here. There is very little wind. Water is blue green and about 80 degrees. It's a lovely spot, and I take a swim in the late afternoon.

In many ways, we'd rather be out on anchor than moored in a marina field, but the marina allows us access to shore and lots to do in Miami. The weather is calming down, and we imagine there will be a great exodus of boats overnight and in the morning. We will likely move to the marina for a couple days. The commander and I have made an appointment with Customs and Homeland Security in the Port of Miami on 12/26 to get pre-clearance to re-enter the country after our stay in the Bahamas.

12/24-12     Dinner Key Marina mooring field, Coconut Grove, Florida.

From the stadium anchorage, it's a short trip across the bay to Dinner Key. Moorings are inexpensive at $21/night. The facility is owned by the City of Miami. There are some old industrial looking buildings nearby. Indeed, we read that the site was the terminal for the Pan American Clippers, the flying boats of the 1930's that carried passengers from Miami to the Caribbean and South America. In World War II the clippers were pressed into military service, and the site became a Coast Guard base.

The marina is a curious mixture of the luxury of the golden age of air travel (the later Clippers had individual staterooms available) and the funky decay of old Florida. There are slips and a well-appointed clubhouse for mariners who dock their boats there. The mooring office and laundromat are in a converted trailer. Next door is another trailer with bathrooms and showers. Yet the staff is friendly, and the price is right.

The advantages offered by the moorings are security (moorings don't drag) and access to shore services such as a dinghy dock, showers, bathrooms, and nearby local merchants. The disadvantage of this location is that the mooring field sits in the bay, exposed to winds, especially strong ones from the north. We spent a rough night pitching on the mooring as north winds reached 20-25 kts on Christmas Eve.

We didn't care about this so much. We had an extended Christmas Eve party on Mar-a-Lago with 6 other cruisers and dinghied home in the dark across the waves to a dinner of fresh grouper that we had bought that afternoon at the local market. Rubbed with olive oil and Caribbean seasoning and cooked on the grill. Afterwards the waves rocked us to sleep.

12/25/13

We cared a little more about the wind on Christmas morning as the choppy bay would make for a wet half-mile dinghy ride over to the dock. It's the commander's birthday, and we have plans to celebrate with a late lunch with our new friends. Craig from Mighty Fine has researched which restaurants are open on Christmas Day and made a reservation for Panorama, on the 7th floor of the nearby Sonesta Hotel.

The commander and I put our party clothes in a dry bag, don our foul weather gear, and take the dinghy in. It's not that bad. We tie up at the dinghy dock, take showers next to the mooring office, and leave our gear in the office until we return. We have an hour or two free to explore Coconut Grove before meeting our friends.

Banyan roots grow over a wall

The area around the marina is interesting. This is the original Miami vacation spot on Biscayne Bay. Near here lived Julia Tuttle, namesake of the causeway whose low bridge forced Mar-a-Lago to take the outside route from Ft. Lauderdale. In 1895, she met Henry Flagler down here and convinced him to extend his railroad from West Palm Beach to Miami. Thus started this city's upward spiral as the upscale vacation destination that it was and in some respects still is.

There is a park at the site of the estate of another early citizen, Ralph Munroe, boatbuilder, seaman, naturalist, who bought and preserved what is the last bit of hammock (woodland) in the Miami area. He built The Barnacle, which is one of the oldest original houses in Miami-Dade County, having survived both the 1926 hurricane and Hurricane Andrew in 1992.

Munroe moved to Miami in 1881 on the advice of his wife's doctor. She suffered from tuberculosis, and was told the climate would help her. It didn't. This story is reminiscent of the Henry Flagler story. He was advised to move with his wife to Florida because the climate would restore her health.

This is curious to me. Certainly malaria and yellow fever were endemic to the area before the development of DDT. There's mold, and decay and all sorts of allergenic pollens in this tropical climate. I can imagine a physician who really had nothing much to offer his suffering patient saying, "I think the climate there (somewhere far away) will help your health." But southern Florida? Really?

The area around the marina is Coconut Grove. There are shops and restaurants. Examples of older

Christmas Day in Coconut Grove

Florida architecture are around. The buildings are low. The pace here is less rushed and frantic then, say, South Beach. There are people walking around on the sidewalks. Unlike every other part of Florida we've seen, cars actually stop for pedestrians in crosswalks. Today there are people eating in outdoor cafes. Clothing stores are open. It's a relaxed, but busy place. 

There is no sense whatsoever of any time out of the ordinary. Business as usual. A homeless man walking by wishes me, "Merry Christmas." And then I realize what is missing.

Craig and Donna Lewis, Jane and Brian Wilson and us

Lunch at the Sonesta was magic, however. Uncrowded, slow paced. The view from the seventh floor terrace overlooking the harbor and mooring field was a delight. The menu revealed Cuban influences. The server, a nice Honduran lady, told us of her family's Christmas tradition. They celebrate and exchange presents (secret Santa) on Christmas Eve. They make tamales from masa harina, rice, garbanzos, cilantro (lots!), plantains, raisins -- all wrapped in banana leaves and boiled for 2 hours or more. She had been up celebrating until 4 am.

Christmas birthday celebration complete with silly hats

This is the most elegant restaurant of the trip. Craig, Donna, Brian, Jane, the waitress, and I joined in singing "Happy Birthday" to the commander. By her own admission, it was a most wonderful birthday. Thanks to all.

12/26/13 Coconut Grove, Fla.

This morning we met Freddie, a very nice Colombian man now known to us as Diver Number Four. When diver number two freed the stray line from Luna's propeller in Fernandina Beach, he noticed that the zinc, the sacrificial anode on the end of the propeller, was wearing away. He recommended we replace this and told me how to order another. I emailed boatzincs.com and had the proper fitting sent to Ormond Beach. We have been carrying it with us since. Two days ago, while swimming in the Stadium Harbor, I looked at the propeller and found that the zinc was gone. Just the three mounting bolts remained.

I considered trying to replace this myself with snorkel and mask, but we asked the marina for a recommendation, and they mentioned Freddie. He agreed to come at 8 am on Dec. 26. It's a good thing we called him--he was under the boat for 11 minutes trying to line up the fitting properly. The propeller and propeller shaft remain in good shape, he notes. And Luna's bottom is relatively free of marine growth, which is also good.

After Freddie finished his work, the commander and I took the dinghy in for a meeting with the federal immigration and homeland security officials. If we register before we leave the country, we can re-enter after our stay in the Bahamas with just a phone call to them. Otherwise, the captain has to leave the ship and travel to their office to register our arrival.

Victoria, who lives on her sailboat in the mooring field, has a car and offers to drive us to the Port of Miami for the meeting. We are fingerprinted, and photographed. It's a little disconcerting. We pass the inspection. We are issued numbers to give the officials on our arrival back in the US.

It's pouring rain off and on most of the morning, but it's dry when Victoria brings us back to the marina. We walk into downtown Coconut Grove to have lunch at Johnny Rocket's, "the home of the original hamburger." I had an original hamburger. The commander had a root beer float. We shared a plate of french fries and onion rings.

The little diner has counter space only. A Life magazine cover on the wall shows a navy sailor from World War II enjoying a soda at the same counter. This place has been around for a long time. There

Old Miami

are little juke boxes on the lunch counters. You can play a song for 5 cents. The songs are from the era when it only cost a nickel to play a song on the juke box.

Here among other classic tunes on this little slice of history lunch counter are La Bamba, by Ritchie Valens, Chantilly Lace by the J.P Richardson ( The Big Bopper), and Everyday by Buddy Holly: the three artists who perished in a plane crash over Iowa in 1959. On "the day the music died,"  the baby boom generation received perhaps their first intimation of life's transience and of their own mortality.

From Johnny Rocket's, we walked a mile or so to West Marine. I bought some motor oil and filters for Luna's next oil change and a replacement turnbuckle fitting for the one that fell from the lifeline into the bay yesterday. The commander bought a sun hat and some microfiber capris and dish towels. Microfiber, we are told, doesn't get clammy from salt water like cotton.

Phil and Nancy called. We haven't seen them since Charleston, though we are keeping in close phone contact. They are traveling south on Emerald Sunset and have reached Dinner Key this afternoon. They are walking to meet us.

Walking back from the market

From West Marine, we walk over to the IGA supermarket for some last minute provisions. Phil and Nancy help us carry our bags back to the marina. They are leaving tomorrow, eventually to end up in Key West. Craig and Donna are leaving tomorrow as well, toward Marathon. Brian and Jane are staying behind with us, and hopefully the weather will permit us to cross to the Bahamas in a couple days.

The front is passing. The sky is clearing. Winds are forecast to decrease and turn to the east then south by 12/29. We make tentative plans to cross the ocean with Brian and Jane. We meet for happy hour on Mighty Fine and say goodbye to Craig and Donna. We dinghy over to Emerald Sunset to catch up and have dinner with Phil and Nancy.

Tomorrow, Thursday,  we will travel across the bay to Key Biscayne and No Name Harbor. We will anchor there among other cruisers waiting for a weather window to cross the gulf stream. We will pick up our mail at the post office nearby and get ready to cross over to the Bahamas Saturday or Sunday.

12/27/13 Dinner Key Marina to No Name Harbor, Key Biscayne, FL 4.4nm.

Today was just a quick jump across the Biscayne Bay from Miami to Key Biscayne. The strong north wind continued, and we sailed across, making good speed under foresail alone. Near the narrow entrance to the harbor, one of life's little victories occurred.

We tried to furl the jib once we neared the harbor, but the line jammed. We unfurled what little we took in and tried again. Again the line jammed. I walked onto the foredeck and looked up at the top of the mast. Sure enough, our spare jib halyard, the one we use to hoist the dinghy onto the deck was wrapped around the forestay and rolled in the jib.

This happened once before. On our C&C 30, Echo, the furling line stuck. Believing the line was caught in the furler, I pulled harder. I had the crew put the line on the winch and used the force of the winch handle to pull it in. It came a bit, then stopped. The commander suggested looking up the mast. Sure enough, the spinnaker halyard was wrapped around the top of the furler.

Using force on the jammed line twisted the foil on the forestay and totally destroyed the roller furler. This had to be replaced at great expense. Fortunately, our insurance company covers both acts of God and personal stupidity. They absorbed much of the cost.

We learn from our mistakes. Finding a similar problem this time and unwinding the wayward halyard before we tried to force the line showed the lesson had stuck.

No Name Harbor is part of the Florida State Park system. It is a totally protected small and crowded anchorage. No matter how hard the wind blew, Luna stayed steady. This was a most welcome change from the rolling and bucking of the past two nights.

We walked into town to the library to use the internet and to a couple stores. Not one flower child, I believe, can hear "Key Biscayne" without thinking of Bebe Rebozo and his vacationing pal, Tricky Dick Nixon. Despite this association, I like Key Biscayne. There are wide sidewalks and bike lanes, and people actually use them. Crosswalks along the main street, Crandon Blvd., are clearly marked, giving rise to the hope, if not the possibility, that a driver might actually stop. I will say we did not observe this. Mellow downtown Coconut Grove is the only place cars have stopped for us. Otherwise drivers in Florida speed by changing directions only to move slightly toward you. They'd as soon run you over as look at you.

 We will jump off from here to the Bahamas in two or three days. Excited anticipation is building.

Happy Birthday, commander!

Luna sits in the mooring field beyond the harbor at Dinner Key

From the Captain

South to Ft. Lauderdale

12/16/13 Stuart, FL to Hobe Sound, Jupiter Island, FL 17 nm.

Today, we passed what is probably the last piece of undeveloped land along the southern Florida east coast. Northern Jupiter Island is a nature preserve. Mangroves line both sides of the waterway. We are headed toward Peck Lake, an anchorage recommended by Silas, our friend in Vermont. He told us it is a short walk to an uninhabited beach.

We left Stuart in a 10-15kt. north wind. Today, the waterway is fairly straight, and we can sail. We put out the jib tentatively at first for it has been quite a while since we've sailed at all.

We're rusty. The wind fills the sail on a port tack. Luna heels to starboard. The commander has cleaned all the lockers and left the doors off so they can air out. Things begin to fall from the port lockers. The starboard jib sheet keeps fouling in the winch. It is not led through the block on the jib track on deck. Finally, we get everything straightened out and turn the motor back to a fast idle. We're sailing again!

We reach Peck Lake, but there is a major dredging operation going on, and there is a barge across the entrance channel. We continue south to another anchorage further down Jupiter, where the mangroves have given way to moderately well appointed houses. We find a spot suggested by Skipper Bob from his book of ICW anchorages. We move close to the developed shore to minimize exposure to the north wind. The anchor is secure. The full moon rises.

12/17/13 Hobe Sound to Lake Worth, FL 13.6 nm

If we ever do this trip again, I'm bringing a crew member, and his last name will be Cousteau. We had an opportunity to meet another diver today, and it's getting expensive. We were anchored  alongside the ICW off Jupiter Island and were unable to raise the anchor in the morning. We used Luna to pull the anchor rode in various directions: nothing doing. I took another anchor line and looped the chain around the original line. Hopefully the loop of chain will  sink down the line and reach the shank of the anchor. Pulling the new line from the opposite direction may dislodge an anchor stuck under a pipe or a cable or a rock. I row the spare line out in the dinghy and pull. Nothing.

I tried to flag a fishing boat across the waterway. He didn't see me, but a man standing on shore did. He called on the VHF radio asking if we needed help. His name is Matthew, and he works for the owner of the house near our fouled anchorage. She lets him keep his boat there. He came out to meet us. I tied the second anchor line to his boat and had him pull in a different direction: still nothing doing.

So, I got another opportunity for an unplanned swim, this time with mask, snorkel, and fins. Pulling myself down the anchor line, I saw the anchor chain tightly looped around an old pipe coming up from the bottom. There was no way I could stay down long enough to loosen the chain. So I put a line on the end of the pipe which was quite near the surface, and had Matthew try to pull it up with his boat: nope.

I asked Matthew if he knew a diver, and he did. He called a friend on his cell phone, and his friend agreed to come over in the afternoon as soon as he was finished with another job about 45 minutes away.

Our friends on Mighty Fine guide us in to Lake Worth anchorage

Chris Kent, the diver,  was able to undo the loop, and we raised the anchor easily. His services were reasonably expensive, but much less so than the Rocna anchor and chain we would have cut away. We were on our way south by 2:30 pm. Fortunately, we didn't have far to go to. Our destination was an anchorage on the northern end of Lake Worth where our friends from Stuart had spent the night before. Luckily, we arrived to meet them just at happy hour. Unfortunately, we missed a lunch date with my mom further south in Palm Beach.

We never have a chance to sit and observe the Intracoastal Waterway. When we're traveling, we rarely see other boats, because all are going at about the same speed. A few faster motorboats pass us, an occasional faster sailboat. Most of the time, we're traveling alone. Therefore, I was amazed by the great number and variety of boats that paraded past us as we sat on our anchor next to the channel. Sail boats outnumbered motor yachts by 3-4 to one.  Once we got past the urge to move, waiting was a rather relaxing and pleasant experience. The commander made muffins. I did a few small tasks. The sun shone. The time passed quickly.

12/18/13 Lake Worth.

The northern part of Lake Worth is a very pleasant anchorage. From the boat, it is a short dinghy ride up a small creek to a beach by the roadway bridge. Tie the dinghy there and walk up to the road. It's only a couple blocks to a Publix supermarket, a bank, and other stores and restaurants. None of which, by the way, seem decorated for Christmas, now only a week away.

Afternoon at the beach, John D. MacArthur State Park

In the afternoon, we returned to the road and walked a couple of miles to the John D. MacArthur Beach State Park. This is a 324-acre wildlife preserve and bird sanctuary. A long boardwalk crosses an estuary where white ibis, herons, and egrets fish in the shallows. We can reach the beach from here and sit for a time admiring the turquoise water.

The park was a gift from John D. MacArthur. He, and his second wife, Catherine T., both well known among public radio listeners for their eponymous foundation, also established a fund to maintain the park. I learned that John D., born to humble circumstances in Pennsylvania, acquired and built Banker's Life and Casualty Insurance Company. In 1954, he bought 2,600 acres of land in northern Palm Beach County. This included the area around the park, the lake in which we are anchored. Eventually the holding became the towns north of West Palm Beach. At the time, he was one of the wealthiest men in America.

It was a long walk to the park from the bridge under which we tied our dinghy. It will be a long walk back. But, there is a gift shop. Fortunately, the shop sells ice cream. Believe it not not, I found my

Luna adds light to the presolstice darkness

first ever (wait for it…) mango creamsicle. Next time I'm in Mexico, where this was made, I'll look for another.

The walk back was fine. All in all, some decent exercise and a good, relaxing day after the anchor problem of the day before. Luna's Christmas lights, wound around a long spinnaker sheet attached to the end of the boom and bow and hoisted up the mast with the main halyard, shone in the harbor.


12/19/13. Lake Worth to Las Olas Marina, Ft. Lauderdale, FL 53 nm.

We had another reason for spending a second night in Lake Worth. Watching the weather forecast, today looked like a good day to make the trip to Ft. Lauderdale by leaving the waterway and sailing off the coast in the ocean. Not only would Luna actually get to sail, but we would miss the 20 or so drawbridges between us and our destination.

No one making this trip has anything favorable to say about drawbridges. Many run on a schedule: they open every half hour or hour. Going south from here, some open on the half hour and some on the quarter hour. You can time your speed so you don't have to wait for an opening. The speed is about 7 kts, which Luna makes only with some difficulty if there is not opposing current.

Waiting at a drawbridge is always a source of anxiety. If the current is going toward the bridge, you have to sit in reverse or make circles until the bridge opens. If there are other boats around, you have to gauge their intentions and avoid them when you turn. We met some Vermonters on their sailboat in St. Augustine. The husband said of his wife, "She never uses bad language, but tell them what you said about the drawbridges last time we were down here." "Fuckin' drawbridges," she replied.

Having hoisted and lashed the dinghy to the foredeck last night, we weighed anchor at 7:45am and motored south toward the Lake Worth inlet. Just before the inlet, we rounded Peanut Island.

Peanut Island is of some historical significance. A former Coast Guard station, it sits like a bull's eye in a cosmic horizontal dartboard in Lake Worth. When President John Kennedy vacationed in Palm Beach, this was the site of the presidential bomb shelter. During the Cuban missile crisis, when Americans held their breath and the Russians blinked, I imagine the insurance companies were having fits. A well-placed Russian nuke would have wiped out half the property and marine wealth in the country, or so it seems. That was then in the 1960's. As we were to find, the balance of ostentatious wealth has moved south toward Miami.

Nonetheless, I would imagine that Peanut Island would have been to a Russian Bomber as a new hat is to an overflying seagull. This actually happened to me once. We were standing on the wharf in San Francisco waiting for the Sausilito ferry. I felt a splash on my head. Luckily I was wearing a hat. Unluckily, it hit my shirt as well.

The commander and I have had an ongoing discussion since: was this a random act of nature? Or did the seagull aim for my hat? She favors of the former interpretation. I, of course, the latter. What does this say about us?

This would be a good addition to the standard psychiatric intake interview: "If you were sitting in a theater and noticed a fire, what would you do?"…"I see."…"And how is an apple like an orange?"…"Yes, yes." .."And if you were standing around and seagull droppings landed on your head, would you consider this an intentional act on the part of the seagull or a random event of nature?"…"Oh, I see. And why, do you suppose, at you, in particular?"

In any case, the weather called for NNE winds at 11-17 kts with waves 2-4 feet and an occasional 5-footer at a period of 6 seconds. To me, it sounded perfect. Remembering the broad reach down from Sandy Hook, I imagined we'd be making nearly 7 kts the whole way and reach Ft. Lauderdale by mid afternoon.

It didn't quite work that way. Leaving the inlet, the wind speed was 20 kts, and direction had turned more to the east. Waves were more frequent and at the high end of the prediction. Not confident in the forecast, I climbed up on the cabin top and reefed the mainsail. I wore a life vest and clipped a safety line to the boat.

It felt wonderful to be sailing again. Luna handles the swells. The spray occasionally breaks over the bow, but does not reach the cockpit. Making a sandwich in the bucking galley is unthinkable, so for lunch the commander brings out some crackers and cheese, a can of Pelligrino Orange and a can of seltzer.

Meanwhile, the deep blue color of the ocean is gorgeous. There are occasional turquoise highlights closer to shore. There are no dolphins, but little flying fish skitter over the wave crests, flying on their wing-like pectoral fins. Where there are a lot of them, there must be larger fish below. Mahi Mahi prefer flying fish.

Maybe in retrospect, we could have left the mainsail fully set. On Lake Champlain, I wouldn't reef the main below 20 kts. The ocean is so much larger and to me, daunting and unpredictable. We met a Canadian couple who are sailing on a 48 foot boat they built from a hull. They retired this year, sold everything, and are intending to live on their boat until it's time to go to the nursing home. They started their journey in Toronto and sailed down the St. Lawrence, past the Bay of Fundy and down the coast of Maine. They have sailed outside the shore including a harrowing run from Norfolk to Cape Fear. Running downwind near Hatteras, the wind kept backwinding the mainsail, eventually breaking their battens and tearing their sail. All cheerfully told, of course, but I accord the sea much more respect at this point.

We passed large sport fishing boats bobbing around off shore. A larger sailboat passed us further out

Give the cruise ships a wide berth in Port Everglades Harbor

to sea heading south. With our shortened sails and larger waves abeam, our speed drops to 4-5kts. According to the GPS, we will not reach the Ft. Lauderdale inlet until 5:30 pm. It will be getting dark. At noon or so, we turn on the engine and motor sail the rest of the way. We get to the inlet at about 4:30 pm, drop the sails, dodge a cruise ship leaving port, and motor up to our waiting slip at the public marina at the base of the Las Olas Blvd bridge.

Our friends from Mighty Fine and Mar-a-Lago are here to help us. We tell them of our adventures at sea. We covered about the distance from Key Biscayne to Bimini, though always within sight of land. They tell us of the huge houses and boats along the waterway and their experiences with the drawbridges (all uneventful).

While we are sitting at a picnic table in the early evening, the Las Olas bridge opens. On alternate openings only one side raises. I'm not sure why this is. A huge motor yacht, the size of Rhode Island, glides by. As she passes the bridge, we hear metal scraping. She emerges with her antennae bent. The radar dome looks askew. Her captain must have missed the fact that half of the bridge was down.

John Prine sings, "Have you ever noticed, when you're feeling really good. There's always a pigeon that'll come shit on your hood."

12/20 - 12/22/2013 Las Olas Marina, Ft. Lauderdale

Ft. Lauderdale beach--Where the Boys Are

This is a nice place to be. Inexpensive at $1.35 per foot. A block and a half away from the beach. Clean. Friendly. A little noisy with the bridge going up and the boat traffic. "Get back behind the barricade. The bridge is going up!" yells the bridge tender over the loudspeaker with a great sense of urgency to an errant pedestrian.

I changed Luna's oil in the morning. Tightened up a hose clamp on the fuel pump that was leaking diesel fuel into the bilge. We took a walk to the beach in the afternoon. My mom's friend and caretaker drove her down to visit later. We walked out to Luna. Visited for a bit. Had an early dinner on Las Olas Blvd.

Dinner on Las Olas Blvd.

Later we met Craig and Donna, Brian and Jane for the remnants of their dinner party at Hooters. We have never been to a Hooters before, but I imagine they are not talking about owls. The six of us walked back to the marina and made plans to take the dinghies to explore some of the canals  lining the waterway. One of them leads close to a Publix and West Marine, always popular stops among the yachting set. All the canals, it seems, are lined with large houses and boats to match.

We had a nice time with my mom. While I can trace my introduction to and love of sailing to my dad, I think I have my mother to thank for my sense of fun and adventure.  And for the optimism to believe I can take on some of the more ambitious things I do, and it will work out ok. Such as this trip.

Greetings from Ft. Lauderdale

Oh, Lord, stuck in Lodi again….John Fogarty

Sojourn in Stuart.

From the Captain.

Dec 5, 2013. Vero Beach to Stuart, FL 35 nm

Green sea water enters at the St. Lucie inlet

When we pass inlets on the rising tide, the influx of sea water is green in color: brighter, it seems, the further south we get. The green color fades as it mixes with river water, but it's a preview of the ocean voyage to come. Our plan is to travel to Stuart, a few miles off the ICW. It's up the St. Lucie River toward Lake Okeechobee. At the crossroads of the Indian River, the St. Lucie River, and the inlet to the Atlantic, we turn back north. We're heading toward the Sunset Bay Marina.

Our friends, Jim and Irene Falby moor their sailboat here. Jim's sister, Judy, lives in Charlotte and is an old friend of ours. Jim and Irene have made the sail to the Bahamas several times, and Judy introduced us over the summer. They provided a wealth of information and advice.

On our first meeting, we sailed on Luna and anchored in Kingsland Bay for dinner. A storm came up and the wind suddenly backed around to the north, threatening to push Luna against the rocky lee shore. There was a tense twenty minutes with the motor running, ready to move should the anchor drag and we get too close to the shore. The anchor held. The storm passed, and we decided to return to Long Point to have our dinner. We arrived at dusk. It was a great dinner, but I think, the mosquitos ate more than we did.

Having survived our first meeting, Jim and Irene gave us some charts and told us about the Marina in Stuart where they stay before heading out on a cruise. It happened that they were there when we arrived. They returned the dinner invitation, and we brought our smoked salmon appetizer and a bottle of wine over to their O'day 37, Escapaid.  It was great to renew our acquaintance and have dinner minus the storm and the bugs.

There are a lot of support services for mariners in Stuart, and we found a canvas worker within walking distance of the marina. We brought our dodger and bimini cover to her for repair of some loose seams.

December 6, 2013 Stuart, FL to Sanibel Island, FL. 150 statute miles.
December 6-8 Sanibel Island, Florida

The next morning, we called Enterprise auto rental, and they picked us up to sign up for our rental car. The economy model Chevy was available, but they also offered us, for only $15 extra for the week, a Mustang convertible. I was ready to stay with the Chevy. As the commander pointed out: it's Florida. How can we turn down that offer.

We're heading for Sanibel Island where our son, Tris, and his wife, Preetha, and two daughters, Zara and Violet, are vacationing with Preetha's sister and brother-in-law and their two children. In our Mustang, with the top down, we bombed across the state along the southern edge of Lake Okeechobee. We made in three hours what it would have taken three or four days to accomplish in Luna. But less fun in the car I think. The center of the state here is sugar cane country, and not much else is happening. There is a levee along the road that contains the lake; you can't even see the lake from the road. There is a pull off, and we stop, just to check out the lake. We walk up a steep bank, but all we can see is a moat and another levee inside the first one.

Sanibel Island is a nice spot. Not crowded until January, we're told. The family is staying in a lovely

Flamingo nativity scene, Sanibel Island

resort on the beach, and there is a suite available for us. Within the 10-mile long island are 22 miles of bike paths. Tris and Preetha rented bicycles for us, and we traveled as a group--adults, kids, bicycles, bike trailers, third-wheel trail-a-bikes. We rode downtown for dinner and the annual luminary festival. Candles in white paper bags lined the main streets. Christmas lights decorated the trees and shops.There was music, wine-tasting. As in St. Augustine, it was a town party, and everyone, it seems, was out. We rode back to the hotel using our smart phones as headlights.

Bellam-Bernstein-Hanley-Kuruduyara-Hill Family Photo

The next day, we rode up to the the Sanibel Island lighthouse and back. And that night we took asunset cruise in the bay between Sanibel and the mainland. Motoring slowly past the large houses along the narrow channel before entering the bay, we were able to show our family first-hand how we've been traveling for the past two months. We even saw dolphins along the way.

Grandma time writing postcards

We collected shells on the beach, we swam with the kids in the pool, and for the first time on this trip, we swam in the ocean.

  December 8. Sanibel Island to Naples, FL.   33  statute miles

Since Naples is only an hour away, we decided to visit our Long Point neighbors and friends, Don and Joan Zeiter, in their winter home in Naples. They are both active in the choir of their local church and were singing in the morning and afternoon services. We had lunch with them. Joan is singing a solo performance of "O Thou That Tellest Good Tidings to Zion" from Handel's Messiah at the afternoon service. Which is how we found ourselves at St. Mary's Episcopal Church for the Advent service. We enjoyed the singing. We were reminded of the events of the birth of Jesus.

Being in church usually brings to my mind the quirky travel writer, Redmond O'Hanlon. He writes about his travels to impossible places, in this case up the Congo River or somewhere to look for traces of a rare dinosaur. He finds a native village. He blends with the culture. He sleeps in the long house. He hears about eating long pig (humans) some time in the tribe's not so distant past. At one point, the chief of the village speaks to him through his translator. "Explain this to me," he asks.  "How is it that you Europeans think that there was this man who was conceived without a father, who was killed, buried, then came back to life. Who then went up to heaven and watches over everything you do. And if you believe in him, he will give you everlasting life? And you call us superstitious."

We are all entitled to the beliefs that guide our lives. I am aware of the controversy down through the ages around whether the Bible speaks literally or symbolically. But I am also aware that the literal interpretation of the Bible is becoming the norm in a lot of Christian communities. And that over the years, more atrocities have been committed in God's name than God would seem to permit, given the power to prevent them. Reading Michener earlier in the journey, I learned how the Bible was invoked by southern preachers as the moral basis of slavery.

I am also coming from two days with a five-year-old during a Christmas celebration in Sanibel. We discussed the difficulties Santa Claus would encounter trying to deliver his presents to a sailboat. We conclude he could slide down the mast with his bag and climb back up. The patron saint of children imposes a strict moral code on his charges. He is abetted by the parents as the arbiters of what is naughty and what is nice. But this is probably the last year that Santa Claus can be invoked for Zara as the reason to eat her peas.

On the other hand, there are sunsets which touch us deeply. Art and music delight our senses. Good friends and committed relationships stir our souls. We are blessed, and God is all around. And perhaps, He is nowhere more present than here out in nature as we are.

December 9. Naples, Florida, to Stuart, FL 196 miles.

We're back on Luna, having visited our children and grandchildren, our neighbors and good friends, and even my mom in Boynton Beach. We spent most of the day with her, and left after an early dinner at Bonefish.

There is a punch list of tasks to do while in Stuart. We need to do some cleaning, and reprovision at Costco (about an hour away by car). I have decided to dismantle the water tank I constructed beneath the dinette. We can use the storage space, and the tank pretty much failed to hold water reliably. I need to put a discharge valve into our holding tank. There is a little refastening to do.

Traveling down through all the cold weather, we have kept the cabin hatches closed at night. The water vapor in our breath condenses on the surfaces. Everything is damp in the morning. The dampness promotes mold growth, and all the closed lockers have evidence of mold. The commander buys a spray bottle of clorox and resolves that problem.

We are out on a mooring at the marina, but the staff is incredibly helpful. They graciously allow us to tie up at the gas dock to plug into the shore power there. I can use my power saw to cut hoses and dismantle the water tank. We spend two separate days on the dock using the power. At one point, the dock master at the marina drove me a few miles to West Marine so I could pick up a part.

The holding tank revision is for traveling to the Bahamas, and I have been putting this off until I am confident we are going. Here in the U.S., government regulations prohibit discharging holding tanks in all inland waterways. We have been having the tank pumped every week or two at marinas where we stay overnight or stop for diesel fuel. In the Bahamas, however, there are very few facilities for emptying holding tanks. I have installed a valve and an electric macerator pump (think garbage disposal) that will empty the tank through an existing fitting in the bottom of the boat. Responsible cruisers in the Bahamas wait for the falling tide, sail off shore and pump their tanks when necessary.

Luna displays her Xmas present

It hasn't been all work here. There is a historic downtown section accessible by a boardwalk that goes along the river, under the railroad tracks that go through the center of town, and under the main highway. We did some Christmas shopping at a lovely craft place, the Rare Earth Gallery. We even found a Christmas present for Luna-a carved laminated wood dolphin created by an artist from Grand Isle, Vermont.  We had a plate of oysters and happy hour bloody marys at Mulligans. There is a farmers' market down by the city hall on Sundays. We bought some fresh vegetables (strawberry season has started in Florida) and a few conch fritters from Bahama Patty. This seems like a nice place to be, removed from the bustle and ostentation of the Florida further south. Indeed, there are people who spend the entire winter here on their boats.

At the Stuart Farmer's Market

Craig and Donna, from Mighty Fine are here as well. Craig is the maven of happy hour venues and always seems to know where the best places are. We joined them at the Pelican for $6.00 pitchers of beer. Here, the most popular beer seems to be Yuengling, which I've always associated with the mid-Atlantic and northeast. It turns out they also have a brewery in Tampa.

Craig and Donna have been traveling with a couple from Toronto on Mar-a-Lago, their 42-foot Catalina. We met Brian and Jane in Annapolis and met them again at the Pelican. They are intending to travel to the Bahamas in the same manner as we do, and we are all really pleased to go in tandem for this part of the trip. We resolve to meet at South Beach for Christmas.

We've also had fun exploring the area. The canvas lady who did a wonderful job restitching and patching our dodger and bimini told us of a small park with a dock a block from her shop. We took the dinghy from our mooring, up a small creek, under a very low bridge, to the dock. From there it was a short walk to the post office and to Ace Hardware. We hardly ever pass up a chance to visit the latter.

There is a community among the cruisers, and someone has arranged a potluck and Christmas carol sing-along in the lounge. We missed this one, thanks to the oysters at Mulligans. But I was reminded of a similar sing-along in East Charlotte, out front of Spear's Store. We gathered with a couple dozen neighbors to sing carols. Everyone knew the first couple lines of a lot of the songs, but none could get all the way through. By the time someone from the fire department showed up with printed lyrics, we had run through the first verses of all the familiar tunes, and the crowd had mostly dispersed.

Christmas Lighting, Daytona

It's taken us a while to warm up the the idea of Christmas in the South. The commander wonders how Jesus, who was born in the desert, wound up with the northern European interpretation of his birthday inolving pine trees and snow, reindeer, and furry red hats. However, as the time approaches, we're aware of more and more lights, some impossibly over the top, on both houses and boats. We buy a few stands of LED lights to hoist up the mast and power with the small inverter we have. We send out a few small gifts.

In the holiday spirit, downtown Stuart

Having finished our tasks, we are thinking of leaving tomorrow. We've been in Stuart for over a week, and we're both feeling the urge to move. We're about three days from Miami, but will probably spend a couple days in Palm Beach and Ft. Lauderdale along the way.

The dinks are all in a row as Sunset Bay Marina lives up to its name

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

From the Captain

The Sunshine State

11/20/13-11/22/13 Amelia Island Yacht Basin, Fernandina Beach, FL.

I saw it as we were being towed back from Cumberland Island: hanging off the stern lifeline was a frayed segment of line used as a safety line while lifting the outboard motor onto the dinghy or back on the boat. I suspected right then that we had managed to do it again: wind a line in the propeller. This would be a far better problem than transmission trouble.

When the marina mechanic came to check the next day, I told him I suspected that we'd run over a line and perhaps before he got involved, we could call a diver to check. They marina staff did that for us, and by afternoon, John had come with his wet suit, mask, and air compressor, slid under the boat, found the line and solved our problem. He said I could save a bunch of money if I had a snorkel and mask. I do have a snorkel and mask, but he was under there for quite a long time. The commander was relieved I hadn't detected the line earlier while we were in the Brickhill River, lest I'd be tempted to swim under the boat again.

Will this happen again? Our dock mate, a Frenchman who keeps his 65-foot trawler here in the winter, told me about an attachment you can put near the propeller shaft to cut a line, should one start to be entangled there. Maybe this is worth it. Maybe we should be more careful, but we have been hyper aware of the problem ever since the first episode occurred at the Wrightsville Beach bridge.

We were glad to stay in the marina while the wind and rain raged for the next two days. We borrowed the truck and did some shopping. The staff was helpful. The place was clean. There were "No Fishing" signs on the dock, but we came back after a rainy shopping trip, and there was a man fishing on the dock where Luna was tied. "Excuse me," he said. "I'll get out of your way." We assured him he wasn't and there was no need to leave on our account.

Later I saw him at his car. I couldn't imagine this windy, rainy, and cool day was good for fishing. "It's the best weather," he said. He caught two good size trout and a bass. The latter was a reddish fish with large scales and a black spot on its tail. "Back in North Carolina, this is called a red drum," I informed him with my newly begotten Ocracoke knowledge. "Oh, are you from North Carolina?" he asked.

The commander has a cousin who has just moved to Amelia Island. She called him up, and we took a taxi into town. He gave us a tour of the island. It's a summer destination  for (mainly) Georgia residents who lack developed seashore. Pretty quiet this time of year. Like other Florida communities we have admired before they were spoiled by over development--St. Augustine and Bradenton Beach--Ameila Island has a bunch of older and smaller houses lining the beach. Until you get to the south end, where Hilton has a big new condo development and golf course. But the northern part, where John and Pat Hanley's condominium sits, remains relatively low key.

We also had some time to walk around the historic downtown of Fernandina Beach. This is the site of the first trans-Florida railroad, and I'm glad we could come in by taxi. Coming in by boat at night looked like entering the gates of hell. There is an active shipping port with lights and giant cranes, but the centerpiece of the entrance to the town is a huge paper mill with lights, smoke, and a fairly disagreeable odor.

Downtown, there are a lot of cute shops and restaurants. We had an excellent fresh fish taco at the Salty Pelican, a dive near the waterfront. There was a fish market where we bought a filet of snapper to grill for dinner. The town was nearly deserted on this cool midweek afternoon.

11/22/13 Ameila Island to St. Augustine, FL 50nm.

The waterway in Florida continued the Georgia marshes before giving way to developed shoreline that will get more intense and fancy the further south we get. Boats we encounter seem to be getting bigger. We're moving along at a decent speed. Failing to anticipate and plan for problems with the confused anchorage at Cumberland Island and the fouled prop take a chink out of our self-confidence. Late at night, when the doyens of doubt descend, a little internal voice says, "What ARE you thinking?" A little bad luck, lack of experience. We are gaining more experience each day. People who have less knowledge than we do make this trip on boats less sturdy than Luna. Everything looks better in the daylight, especially in the sunny daylight.

Luna, moored at St. Augustine Marina

St. Augustine lighthouse

In St. Augustine, we are staying at the Municipal Marina, right past the Bridge of Lions on the Matanzas River. There is a field of moorings, and we are renting one for the next four nights. Cost is $20 per night, which includes use of the dinghy dock and bathrooms, showers, and laundry facilities. It's a pretty good deal.

The nieces, looking like lions

The weather was nice for the ride down, and even better the following day. We dinghied into town, took showers, and I had a Cuban cheese toast with ham and a cafe con leche for breakfast. Looking online, I found a barber downtown. Carol has gotten in contact with her niece, Kristen, who lives in Gainesville.  She brought her two daughters and their friend to meet us at the dock for lunch on Luna. Later we walked for ice cream in the historic downtown.

It turns out we arrived just in time for the twentieth annual Night of Lights. This is the event where visitors and residents of the town gather in the square for the grand unveiling, in the electrical sense, of the town's holiday lights. Kristen and the girls stayed with us for the lighting.

We spent a week traveling through Georgia and saw maybe a handful of people. Tonight in downtown St. Augustine we saw what might conservatively be called, "Everyone else in the world!"  A huge number of people, lots of families and kids, packed into town. We walked over the Bridge of Lions, and marveled at the hordes of people walking the other way into St. Augustine from Anastasia Island, on the other side of the bridge. This is a big event for folks from all over, and everyone seemed to be having a good time.

Party time at the Night of Lights

In the park, there was a bandstand decorated with candy canes. The All Star band warmed up the crowd with Christmas music. The ceremony began with a countdown to light the Christmas tree in the park. Then another countdown, and the mayor flipped the switch for the lights on the square and buildings around it. Very festive. This is the South. You can talk about Christmas without having to mention Chanukah or Kwanzaa under the same breath.

It occurs to me that not listening to the radio, not spending a lot of time in stores, and not walking around downtown Burlington after Thanksgiving, our exposure to the incessant repetition of holiday music will be severely limited this year. This does not feel like a loss. 

After our company left, we walked to Aviles Street, down in the old part of town, and had a late dinner at the Cuban restaurant there before motoring the dinghy back to Luna.

11/24/13 St. Augustine

There is a pattern of weekly cold fronts passing through our journey, and last night strong northeast winds and dropping temperatures brought a pattern of windy and cool weather that will be with us through the next week. With the wind and rough conditions in the river, we cannot take our dinghy ashore. Luckily, the marina has a shuttle that will pick us up and bring us back later. It runs every two hours and has its last trip at 6 pm. We can spend the day in town.

We stopped for showers and dried our towels in the laundry room, stowing our bags there while we walked around town. There is a lounge off the laundry room. With the dryers going, this is the warmest place around. Other boat people are sitting, reading, working on their computers, complaining about the weather.

From the toaster collection at the Lightner Museum

We've made arrangements to get together this afternoon with our friend from our earliest time in Vermont, Tom Santoni, who lives nearby in Hastings. On the meantime, we take in some culture by way of a visit to the Lightner Museum. This is a collection of mostly Victorian era stuff housed in the former grand Hotel Alcazar. They had a lot of stuff in the Victorian Era. Among the furniture, Tiffany lamps, cut crystal and Venetian glass, were a collection of toasters (I'm not kidding here), buttons, beer and wine labels, cigar band collages, embroidered samplers, lace, and some amazing mechanical musical instruments including a player piano/mechanical violin.

Spanish Renaissance Architecture, Hotel Alcazar

The hotel was built by Standard Oil partner, Henry Flagler, in 1887. Drawn to Florida on recommendation of his ailing wife's doctor, Flagler built a railroad to bring wealthy patrons down to the "healthy climate" of St. Augustine. Eventually, he extended his railroad to Palm Beach and then to Miami and Key West. The Alcazar, as many other buildings in St. Augustine, is in the Spanish Renaissance style and is one of the earliest buildings to be made of poured concrete. Publisher Otto Lightner bought the hotel in 1946 (it closed in 1932) to house his collection.

We met Tom, walked, had lunch and eventually dinner before returning for the 6 pm shuttle back to Luna. Winds picked up overnight but subsided by morning. We were securely moored and happy not to be riding on anchor during this blow.

Lunch with Tom, Carmelo's Restaurant

11/25/13 St. Augustine, FL, to Marineland Marina. 15nm.

Today served up a little break in the weather--we could dinghy into town, at least, and the wind has rotated eastward, bringing slightly warmer temperatures. Tomorrow, however, is forecast to be rainy with thunderstorms and strong south winds. We are headed south. Rather than motor into the teeth of the coming storm, we cut short our stay in St. Augustine and set out to Marineland Marina. The trip is a short 15 miles, and we cast off at 11am, timing our departure so we could ride the incoming tide and arrive at Marineland during the slack current.

The ride up was uneventful and even included an easy drawbridge. Calling ahead on VHF Channel 9 to announce our intentions, we were told, "Maintain your speed and come ahead." Steaming toward a closed bridge at 7+ knots with the current seemed like playing a game of drawbridge chicken. It required nerves of steel and a steady hand ready to crank back the throttle in an instant. I was confident in the hand part. But as we neared the bridge, the horn sounded, the cars stopped, the gates went down, and slowly the two halves separated and rose.

On the way to Marineland, a dolphin jumped twice in the distance, coming completely out of the water. Perhaps he's thinking of trying out.

Chris at the marina helped us with the dock lines, suggesting we add extras considering the forecast. This is a small protected harbor closed off from the main waterway but for a narrow opening. We seem quite secure here. We had time after the short trip to take a walk on the beach as the tide receded.

Seizing very opportunity for a beach walk

We'll be here for nearly a week, coming off the boat for a few days to have Thanksgiving dinner with my folks in Ormond Beach before heading south. Our good friend, Lee, back home in Vermont, advises that you can't count on warm weather until you hit Lake Okeechobee down near West Palm Beach. This sounds good to us, but then I read that Henry Flagler pushed his railroad south and established the city of Miami after two years (1894-95) that saw freezing temperatures at his Royal Poinciana Hotel in Palm Beach.

We'll keep optimistic. In the meantime, I'd like to wish all the readers of this blog a very happy Thanksgiving. The commander and I hope that as we on Luna, you feel blessed in your own way and have much for which to be thankful.

Ruins of an old structure on the Marineland beach.