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 |
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 |
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 |
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 |
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 |
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 |
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 |