March 6, 2012

Disney must own Florida.  A surprising number of the draw bridges in Florida have this sort of Neuschwanstein lookalike architecture.

It was time to leave Miami and go to Key Biscayne to spend the night before leaving for the Bahamas.  This was the “Red sky at night” the evening before we left Miami.

The sunset at Key Biscayne was again a good red one.  We would leave in the early morning hours to cross the Gulf Stream for Bimini.

We stopped at Weech’s Bimini Dock to clear in through Customs and Immigrations in Alice Town, but windy weather has kept us there.

We are in a marina enjoying 75°, sunny Bimini.  That is the good news.  The bad news is that is blowing a stink today, has been for the last five days, and will continue to blow for the next few days.  Chris Parker (the short wave weather guru) has called the cold front that just passed through and the high winds we have now “the weather event of the winter.”  I wish it would go away so we could leave.

Bill and I spent the Presidents’ Day weekend anchored in Lake Worth, Palm Beach, Florida.  We shopped at the nearby Publix replenishing our food.  Of course, Bill made a trip to the local West Marine store.  I thought he could smell them out, but this time he failed.  He walked a mile north on US 1 to the spot where the store was last year only to find that they had moved to a new location one and a half miles south.  He ended up walking a total of 3 miles to buy his things.  Bill finished installing his new short wave radio while I unpacked my spring clothes.

On Presidents’ Day we took our dinghy to a nearby spot on the shore where it would be just a short walk to the John D. MacArthur Beach State Park.  We found a place to land the dinghy among the mangroves along the shoulder of the road leading to the park.  The bottom there was rock where it was rock and mud where it was mud… hard, sharp, marl limestone and black, deep, gooshy, sticky, nasty mud almost to the shore, if you can call a jungle of mangrove bushes and roots a shore.  We tied the dinghy to a downed tree then walked through the mangrove muck, through the woods, and down the sidewalk along highway A1A to the park.  We walked out to the beach, got our feet wet, then bought a Diet Coke and two packages of chips for lunch.  The Florida sun was quickly changing our pale winter skins to a brilliant pink color, so we headed back to the dinghy.  Unfortunately, the tide had gone out while we were gone and our dinghy was 30 yards from the water.  The rocks meant we had to pick the dinghy up rather than slide it along, and the mud meant I often had no place to stand without my feet sinking out of sight and the mud stealing my shoes.  I am not a fan of yucky, gross, possibly snake filled mud especially when it is spread all over me and our dinghy.  Bill and I were not speaking to each other when Robert and Susan Banks on Impetuous III invited us over for drinks and snacks.  That let us end the day in a good mood – and speaking to each another again.

On Tuesday, February 21 we left Lake Worth and headed for South Miami Beach.  This two day stretch had twenty-seven drawbridges, most of which opened on restricted schedules.  In the built up areas the concrete sea walls made the ICW a wake reflecting canal.  On previous trips we have had to wait at every bridge and have been rocked terribly by passing motor boats, but this year’s trip was fairly easy.  Halfway through, we anchored in Lake Boca Raton well before 5pm.  The second day, one bridge closed in our face as we approached it, but two others were graciously held open for us long after they should have closed.  We anchored in the evening just south of Belle Isle in South Miami Beach.  I felt like we had cleared a major hurdle when we arrived at South Beach. We were almost to the Bahamas.

After we put the outboard motor on the dinghy, we spent Thursday, Friday, and Saturday doing laundry, shipping our winter clothes to Julia, getting water, filling the fuel tank, and buying the electronic bits Bill needed to hook the shortwave radio to the computer.  We walked around town doing some serious people watching and having lunch; one day on Lincoln Road and another at Mango’s Tropical Café in the Art Deco district.  A cold front went by on Saturday night increasing the wind speed a bit.  Robert and Susan on Impetuous III arrived in South Beach a day after us.  Sunday morning they had to re-anchor when they found themselves too close to another boat.  They hosted a Bloody Mary party to celebrate the successful re-anchoring.  Anything for a party, right?

Monday we stayed on Irish Eyes doing chores, reading, and knitting (my favorite).  On Tuesday we began the provisioning for the next few months.  The drill went like this:  Bill dropped me off at the Police Station Dock.  I walked to the more distant but larger Publix.  Bill took the dinghy up the Collins Canal to the smaller Publix which is just across the street from the dinghy landing spot.  He bought all the heavier Cokes and beer he could carry on our hand truck, took them to Irish Eyes, came back to the Police Dock, and walked to the larger Publix to help me carry the things I had bought the four blocks back to the dinghy.  We brought my purchases back to Irish Eyes, put everything away, and repeated it all over again.  It took us two days of this routine before we were ready to go.

Impetuous III’s crew had been working hard too.  An evening on the town was in order.  We all boarded the South Beach local bus, dropped a quarter each in the till, and rode out to the Art Deco District.  It was Happy Hour everywhere.  The sidewalk was covered with the outdoor tables from all the restaurants along Ocean Avenue.  The staff at each restaurant tried to get us to stop, but we were bound for Mango’s Tropical Café with its live music, dancers, booze, and food.  All four of us had a blast. The music was good, the dancers even better.  We each had our two-for-one Happy Hour drinks plus one more before deciding it was time for us to go.  If we had stayed any longer a two drinks an hour minimum would apply… too much for these old sailors.

We walked down Washington Avenue window shopping the tattoo parlors and stopping to check out the restaurants and bright lights along Espanola Way.  We were a little hungry and stopped for some pizza before catching the return bus.  After the short dinghy ride back to our boats, we were sound asleep by 10pm.  It was a lovely old folks evening.
The weather forecast for Thursday sounded just about perfect for crossing the Gulf Stream.  A quick trip into town for forgotten items and we were ready to bring the dinghy on board and move out to our departure point south of Key Biscayne.  The trip was pretty, but we had lots more boat traffic than we would have expected for a weekday afternoon.  One last task remained.  In the middle of Biscayne Bay we steered Irish Eyes around in slow circles as the electronic compass recalibrated itself.   I’m sure we looked a little odd to the passing boats.

The anchorage near the National Park at Key Biscayne was very quiet compared to the hubbub of South Beach.  The sunset was beautiful.  Impetuous III anchored near us after stopping along the way for fuel and water.  It was early to bed because we had to be up soon.

On Thursday, March 1 we were awake at 3 am and away in the moonless dark by 4.  Later when the sun came up in the Gulf Stream it was clear, not too windy, and the waves were about 2 feet in height.  It was a nice day to motorsail to Bimini.  We arrived in Alice Town and tied up to Weech’s Bimini Dock just before 3pm.  Bill headed to Customs and Immigration, cleared us in, and replaced our yellow quarantine flag with a Bahamas courtesy ensign.  Impetuous came into Weech’s behind us, cleared in, and the celebration began.  It was another early night for all of us.

The weather forecast on Saturday informed us that a serious weather event was to unfold during the next week.  The wind was expected to blow at about 25-30 knots all week.  In spite of Bill’s reluctance, we decided we were better off tied to Weech’s dock then trying to find a place to hide at anchor from the near gale force winds from the northeast.  We took a walk around town, bought some bread and ran into the lobsterman.  We bought a dozen lobster tails.  Late in the afternoon I made the trip to the liquor store for rum.  A Canadian boat with Pierre and Renee aboard came into Weech’s as well as an American boat with its single hander Gill.  We all had a Rum Punch or two aboard Impetuous.  Robert and Susan later joined us on Irish Eyes for lobster, mashed potatoes, fruit salad, and Susan’s homemade bread.  Yummy.

Sunday the cold front passed over us at 2pm.  It got dark and cloudy, and it rained some.  The wind blew first from the south, and then from the north.  When the wind changed, the temperature dropped almost instantly from 85 to 75.  Susan was the clear winner of the afternoon’s fishing tournament catching a blue runner and a lizard fish.  The others didn’t catch a thing.  Bill and Robert isolated Robert’s leaking water heater.  Monday was sunny and cool with a still strong but decreasing wind.  We walked the beach a bit and had a hamburger at CJ’s. Somehow a hamburger and fries eaten in the shade of a casuarina pine with a beach view tastes better.  The boats at Weech’s Dock had a community happy hour sheltered from the wind on the patio.  In spite of the weather it was a very good day in paradise.

This morning the wind was really howling.  It was warming up but windy. Did I say it was windy?  The Bahamas Met Office weather forecast didn’t have its usual small craft caution or a small craft advisory; it said, “Operators of small craft should remain in port.”  We took that advice.  We may get away from Bimini on Friday, or on Saturday, or…  We shall see.  We are in the Bahamas.

Stay safe and happy!

February 19, 2011

Early in the morning this blue heron was standing on our dinghy watching us.

A nice picture of a flock of birds silhouetted against the setting sun.

There are shallow spots in the intracoastal waterway.  We draw five feet.  I think the dog draws five inches.  He could not have been a boat length away from us.

The Jupiter lighthouse was built in the 1850s.  Its lens spent the war buried in the bottom of the nearby Jupiter Creek preventing the Federals from using it.

Greetings from sunny, warm North Palm Beach Florida.  We are anchored in Lake Worth waiting out the Presidents Day weekend.  The boaters in Florida are numerous and for some reason do not have good Southern manners.  It is best to just stay anchored working on boat projects, reading, and of course, knitting until they return to work.

The adventure continues…

On February 1^st and 2^nd we motored through most of Georgia’s notorious shallow spots.  The tides were in our favor for once.  After two fairly long days, we anchored in a creek, Wally’s Leg, just north of Brunswick, Georgia.  The weather was still cool but not terribly cold.  We woke up on February 3^rd to a windy day.  We were seeing gusts up to 25 knots.  Jekyll Creek, which is just south of Brunswick, has a spot where the reported depth at low tide is 4 feet.  We need at least 5 feet to float Irish Eyes.  The wind was blowing and the tide was falling, so we decided to stay in Wally’s Leg for the day.  We read, knitted, surfed the web, watched a DVD movie, and had a very nice day off.

Bill turned in about 9pm and was asleep in a half hour.  It was pitch black dark, and I was just shutting the computer down for the night when I heard a beep.  I thought it was the computer, but no, it was the whoop from the siren of a United States Coast Guard boat with flashing blue lights coming along side to board us.  I rousted Bill out of bed, and he quickly got dressed.  The four Coast Guard folks were very nice, polite, and did their jobs.  They came aboard, went below, checked Bill’s ID, counted life preservers and fire extinguishers, inspected our holding tank, looked at the engine, checked Irish Eyes’ documents, and then left.  By this time it was almost 10pm.  I am amazed they can just come on board without a warrant or any probable cause.

The next morning we hung around till about 11am waiting on the tide to be right for passing through Jekyll Creek.  We made it through the shallow spot without a hitch.  It helped that a large motor boat was aground, conveniently marking the spot where the water was shallow.  A bend in the Brickhill River behind Cumberland Island was our anchorage that night.

The moon was full, so high tide was really high and the low tide was really low.  We left Cumberland Island on Sunday, February 5, Bill’s 61^st birthday.  We motored past the submarine base near St. Marys Georgia.  There was a British submarine in the degaussing station which gave us something to see and gave Bill something to explain to me.  The security boat with the machine gun stayed between us and the sub as we passed by.

By midday we were at last in Florida!!!  The stretch south of Fernandina Beach behind Amelia Island had some very shallow spots.  Irish Eyes’ keel brushed the bottom a few times but nothing to stop us.  (Other boats were not so lucky.)  We anchored north of the Sisters Creek Bridge just before the ICW meets the St. Johns River.  It was finally warm enough to take off our shoes and socks.

The night at the Sisters Creek Bridge was calm and not nearly as noisy as I anticipated.  In the morning we went under the drawbridge and headed toward the St. Johns River.  At the shipyard to the right some sort of evil looking military ship was being maneuvered into a slip by 5 tugboats.  There was also a patrol boat zipping around keeping boat traffic out of the security zone that surrounds all warships.  The tugs would signal each other with first one then two toots from their whistles making me think of the children’s book ‘Scuffy the Tugboat’.  I forgot to say it was a little foggy.  Just as we began to cross the St Johns River, a tug towing a barge appeared around the bend going upriver to Jacksonville.  We needed to cross over the river and continue down the ICW.  It was a busy place for a little sailboat, but the tug and barge operator hailed us on the radio suggesting we meet him on two whistles.  We turned to port and stayed out of the way of the barge, and the patrol boat let us get closer to the military ship than we should.  We then made it safely across the river.  The fog lifted some as we headed south to St. Augustine.

After my troubles last year, Bill invented a special hook to help me pick up the pennants attached to mooring balls.  St. Augustine was my first attempt to use it.  The hook worked like a charm.  We were tied to the mooring before 5pm and before the fog rolled in again.  It was time to try out our new dinghy.  It is bigger than our older ones.  Notice I say ones.  We now own four dinghies and two outboard motors, but we only have one of each with us.  It took us only twenty minutes to get it inflated, off the deck, and into the water.  Not too bad for a couple of old sailors.  Tuesday was spent doing laundry, mailing postcards to the grandchildren, and of course walking to Sailor’s Exchange, a huge used boat stuff store.  I looked at the books while Bill prowled around amongst all the enticing bits of old boat things.  Believe it or not, Bill did not buy anything.  I was soooo proud of him.

Wednesday morning was clear and sunny.  We let go of the mooring and headed south again.  It was just south of St. Augustine when I had a too close encounter with a green daymark.  Think of a telephone pole sticking 15 feet above the water with two numbered fluorescent green plywood boards the size of basketball goals nailed to its top.  That is a green daymark.  The red ones are similar but are triangular and of course red.  They are placed just outside the channel to let boaters know where the deepest water is and which way to go.  Greens are on one side and reds on the other.  Well, that morning I was off in my own little world as I was steering.  I did notice that I was out of the channel because the water was getting very shallow.  I was looking at the depthfinder and did not see the green mark.  I hit it!  What a shock.  Bill came flying back on deck when he heard the loud bang.  The mark hit the boat on its starboard (right) side.  The green mark should have been on the port (left) side.  I not only hit the daymark; I hit it from the outside-of-the-channel side.  The cap rail, a teak board that covers the place where the hull and deck join, was smashed in two places, and there is a scuff in the hull paint.  Not good, but not terrible, a couple of boat bucks worth of repairs to be done this summer.  It was a really stupid thing to have done. (Sorry children, I know stupid isn’t a nice word).  The moral of the story --- Pay Attention When Steering.  We anchored in Daytona Beach that night.

We continued motoring south through Mosquito Lagoon and entered the Indian River.  Both were full of birds.  I saw lots and even took a few pictures.  I was more than little nervous steering, but I did pay better attention.  We anchored for the night on the south side of the Titusville high rise bridge.  That night, lit by lights from below, the bridge was pretty as far as bridges go.  I never thought I would be sleeping under bridges in my retirement, but I do.

The town of Cocoa, Florida was in this stretch of the Indian River.  It was time to be tourists.  We anchored before noon, got the motor on the dinghy, and went in to tour the old town and have lunch.  Cocoa is full of shops, art galleries, and a great pizza restaurant.  (Bill was more interested in the hardware store.)  After a couple hours of walking around, we were ready to head on south.  We anchored that night beside the Eau Galle Bridge.

A cold front was forecast to pass through Florida over Saturday and Sunday, February 11^th and 12^th.  When we got up on Saturday, the wind had already picked up, and it was cooler than the day before.  Off we went anyway.  We had not gone a mile before the wind speed increased to 20 knots.  We decided to go back and re-anchor in our old spot.  We spent the rest of the day reading, knitting and web surfing.  The wind was very strong, and when the sun went down it got cold.  During the night the wind changed direction, and the causeway leading to the bridge no longer gave us protection from the waves in the river.  We had a very bouncy night.

Sunday morning was sunny but COLD.  I had to again put on my wool long underwear, heavy coat and hood, gloves, and wooly hat.  The wind was still strong, but it was luckily coming from behind us and was not too unpleasant.  By 4pm we were tied to a mooring in Vero Beach.  My new mooring ball catching hook worked perfectly again.  Not long after we got into Vero Beach, Robert and Susan Banks aboard Impetuous III came in and rafted up with us.  For years our two smaller sailboats had shared a slip at Lakeshore Marina on Watauga Lake.  A year ago the Banks sold everything, bought Impetuous III, and moved aboard her in Oriental NC.  They had left North Carolina a couple of weeks before us, and we had passed them that morning.  Both crews were cold and tired but still had enough energy to drink a beer and discuss our trips down the ICW.  It was really good to see the Banks.  The low temperature that night was 39°.  Cold.

Bill bought a new shortwave radio on ebay while we were in South Carolina.  It was sent to Julia who sent it on to meet us in Vero Beach.  When we went ashore to take showers, Bill found his packages in the office.  From that point on he became a boat hog.  I moved out to the cockpit while he drilled, soldered, wired, and whatever else he did while installing the radio.  The boat was a complete mess.  Nothing was in the right place.  At 5 o’clock he straightened things up, we had a drink, and walked over to the Riverside Cafe with Robert and Susan for dinner.  I had oysters on the half-shell and a fish taco.  Yummy!

On Valentine’s Day Bill surprised me with a heart shaped box of chocolates.  It was hard to hide the box on a 34 foot boat, but somehow he managed!  We took the bus into the shopping area and went to West Marine, Radio Shack, and Fresh Market.  Fresh Market had a special on roses.  Lots of typical looking old Floridian men were buying flowers for their sweeties.  It was heartwarming to watch them.  Bill spent the rest of the day working on his radio project.

Wednesday a package for Bill was delivered containing some special radio wire and a 30 amp circuit breaker.  Rather than finish the radio installation in Vero Beach, we decided to continue south traveling on Thursday and Friday then anchoring in north Palm Beach for the Presidents Day Weekend.  Bill could work on his radio there, and we would avoid the holiday nuts on the waterway.  Along the way we anchored in Peck Lake; not really a lake, more like a wide spot in the ICW.  It was a peaceful night, but with little wind and with mangroves nearby, we had to put in the screens to keep all the bugs outside.  South of the St Lucie Inlet the waterway passed through the Hobe Sound National Wildlife Refuge.  Wilderness alternated with large impressive homes for mile after mile.  It was the last undeveloped land we will see until the Bahamas.

This is also where Bridgeland begins.  South of Peck Lake there are six bridges that have to open for us before we get to North Palm Beach; Hobe Sound, Jupiter Bridge, Jupiter Federal, Indiantown Road, Donald Ross, PGA Boulevard, and Parker.  The last four are on restricted opening schedules, and usually we have to wait for up to a half hour for at least one of them to open.  This trip we lucked out and arrived at each bridge just as it began a scheduled opening.  We also saw the least amount of traffic ever in this usually crowded section.  We had expected a tense and frustrating day; it wasn’t.

It was just after lunch when we anchored in the north end of Lake Worth.  The Banks, who had stopped to see friends in Jensen Beach, arrived a few hours later.  The plan is to spend the three day weekend here enjoying the sunshine, doing a little shopping, and getting the radio to work while hiding from the holiday crowd and waiting for a cold front to pass over us.

Happy President’s Day to you all.

January 31, 2012 

We backed out of our slip at Northwest Creek Marina and left it empty for the next five months.  The boat on the right, Freedom, is a Crealock 34 like ours.  One of the owners of the boat on the left was a student of Bill’s aunt Liza in Kinston decades ago.

The camp stool lets Bill sit high up so he can see over the dodger.  It saves him from standing for eight hours each day.  Doesn’t he look regal on his throne?

Although it was January it was warm in the sun.  The turtles in the Waccamaw swamp woke up from hibernation to enjoy it.

This spoil bank island north of Charleston is the first spot with naturally growing palm trees.  Bill messed with the color to make the water blue.  He thinks it looks like the Bahamas.  Not!

Well, we are off again, fifth time, can you believe it?  Five winter trips to the Bahamas.

On Sunday, January 15 Olivia, our youngest granddaughter, was baptized in Kingsport.  Our house was full of family and friends all weekend.  Most thought the party was for our fifth grandchild, but really it was for us.  What a great send-off we had!

Captain Bill wanted to leave on Monday, but that would not work.  It takes me a while to decide exactly what I will wear for the next five months.  I mean, it is hard to choose between bathing suits with snow on the ground.  We both worked as fast as we could crossing things off ‘The List’, and with one exception, we were ready to leave on Thursday at noon.

Bill’s prescription dive mask was our dilemma.  Neither of us could remember which boat he had left it on.  Just to make sure the mask wasn’t on our little sailboat, Canary, we decided the smartest route to New Bern should be by way of Watauga Lake.  That proved to be a good idea; Bill found his mask where he left it, sitting on the shelf over his bunk on Canary.  The distance to New Bern via Watauga Lake and Boone was about 25 miles shorter than the usual Interstate highway through Wytheville, Va.  The only problem was that it took eight long hours rather than the usual seven because of the curvy mountain roads.

It was after dark when we arrived in New Bern. We unloaded everything in the car that night, then spent the next three days getting things stowed away and doing our last minute grocery, West Marine, and WalMart shopping.  We were ready to go on Monday, January 23.  We were ready, but the weather wasn’t.  It was foggy; really, really foggy.  It was so foggy we could not see the river bank across from the marina.  Bill used the opportunity to take some things back to West Marine and to WalMart.  It gave him something to do while I waited for the fog to lift.

At noon we did the hardest of our jobs; we untied the dock lines and left.  It was something like jumping off a high dive.  So much can go right.  So much can go wrong.

Just like every other trip, our first night was spent anchored in Adams Creek, three or four hours from our slip.  The short first day made us feel that we are on our way, but if we had forgotten something major or something vital broke, we could easily go back.  I say that, but it would have to be very serious before Bill would ever backtrack.

We next anchored in Mile Hammock Bay then in Carolina Beach Harbor before spending two nights dockside at the Coquina Yacht Club in Little River, SC.  My sister Elaine and brother-in-law JP (who live in nearby Little River) came to Irish Eyes the first evening for drinks, and we went to their house the next evening for a great dinner.  My Aunt Mary Ellen and Uncle Ken joined us for dinner.  It was good to be with family we had not seen since summer.

The trip from Little River to Georgetown, SC went through two very different parts of the ICW.  The first part was in the dreaded “Rock Pile”.  The Corps of Engineers blasted an arrow straight canal through old rock leaving jagged limestone ledges just below the water surface at the edges of the channel ready to tear holes in wandering boats.  It was a good idea to stay in the middle of the canal while passing by the lovely backsides of the Myrtle Beach restaurants, bars, and sewer plant.  We managed just fine.  The second part of the trip was down the winding Waccamaw River which makes up for the un-lovely first part.  It was beautiful. The leafless but moss draped cypress and gum trees in the swamp were set against the light brown reeds in the abandoned rice fields.  In the unusually warm January weather the turtles were out of the mud sunning themselves on every available log.

We made it to Georgetown before sunset and had a pleasant quiet night at anchor.  Up to that morning the weather had been pleasantly warm.  After a brief attempt to get by in light clothes, I gave in and wore my heavy coat and light long underwear bottoms.  Still, it was warmer than previous years.

With another 50 miles behind us, we anchored just north of Charleston, SC in the part of Deweese Creek that is on the west side of the ICW.  The Ben Sawyer Bridge does not open during the morning rush hour, and its first morning opening is at 9:00.  We got up early and timed our arrival perfectly hitting 9 o’clock on the nose only to learn that the bridge was broken and an electrician had been called.  We anchored and waited.  Finally, after a couple of false starts and with apologies from the bridge tender, the bridge opened, and we passed through just over an hour late.  I could have slept later.  Although it was cool in the early morning, the light weight long underwear was off by noon.

We passed through Charleston and wound our way through the creeks and rivers behind Johns, Kiawah, Seabrook, and Wadmalaw Islands anchoring for the night along the Fenwick Island shore in the South Edisto River.  Bill started to fret about fuel; worrying if the last 5 gal jug along with the last bit in the tank would get us to Beaufort and a fuel dock.  Well, it did with gallons to spare.  But, we did not get there fast.  Unknown to us the Ladies Island Swing Bridge did not open from 11 to 1.  So, once again we anchored and waited for a bridge before passing through, stopping for fuel, and continuing on to Hilton Head where we are anchored tonight.

So far the weather could not be better, at least not for January; no snow, no ice, no frost.  Georgia tomorrow, Florida in just a few more days.

Monday, June 13, 2011

During one night while I was asleep two flying fish landed on our deck.  I don’t think they meant to.  Bill took this picture holding one’s wing out before tossing them both back into the sea.

Off the Florida coast ten or more small porpoises swam over to visit with us.  Here are two of them; one coming up and the other going down.

The Charleston pilot boat accompanied us into Charleston.   He goes faster than we do.

Near McClellanville, SC we were invaded by swarms of horse flies.  There were no horses nearby so they came after us.  We killed hundred in the cockpit.  Most blew overboard.  These landed dead on the boat where I vacuumed them up.  I have not counted them yet.

We are back in the USA.

We left Marsh Harbor on Tuesday May 31.  That wasn’t the original plan, but the online weather forecasters (guessers) were talking about a tropical low pressure system off Panama that could possibly turn into a tropical storm.  We were itching to leave and the local weather while windy was not too bad.  Bill dingied over to the Marsh Harbor Marina with our three fuel jugs, bought 15 gal of diesel, and we were off, headed to Bakers Bay on Guana Cay for a change of scenery.  When we got there Bill revised his plans and decided to go north through the Whale Cay Passage and stop at Green Turtle Cay.  Going out Loggerhead Channel, around Whale Cay on its ocean side, then back in through Whale Cay Cut can be a bit scary if the wind and tide are opposing one another or if there are swells in the ocean.  I don’t know what was going on when we went through, but it wasn’t a smooth passage.  We took at least two waves over the side of the boat that wet me and washed one of my small conch shells overboard.  Oh well, I still have a few of my shells left.

As I said, the revised plan was to stop at Green Turtle Cay.  That didn’t happen.  The wind and waves were good, so we continued on to Powell Cay (revision two).  Captain Bill got me to sail there by telling me there were nice beaches and trails on the island.  There may have been, but we never left the boat.  After spending a very pleasant night at anchor, Bill said the weather forecast was good for a crossing to Florida.  Chris Parker‘s shortwave radio forecast said there was a two day or maybe a two and a half day weather window for crossing the Gulf Stream.  It was time to go.  So, off we went headed to Fort Pierce, Florida (revision three).  We were sailing downwind which made the ride very pleasant as long as the waves weren’t too big.  It was going good for the first day and part of that night as we sailed across the Little Bahamas Bank.

When we left the banks behind and entered the Gulf Stream, it became way too rolly and bouncy to suit me.  Bill said “Let’s change course and head north as an experiment to see if the ride will get a little more comfortable.”  We did, and the boat settled down.  The course change meant we were now headed to St. Augustine and would have to spend another day and night underway (revision four).  Oh well, it was more comfortable; not a lot better, but better.  As we got near the middle of the Gulf Stream our speed increased to 9 knots.  We were really flying.  The wind, and more importantly the waves, died down during the night as we moved over to the Florida side of the Gulf Stream.

That night as we were sailing along in the dark, I was on deck alone and Bill was asleep below when something began flapping about in the rear of the cockpit.  It scared me, and not just a little.  I dove below and woke Bill.  He came on deck and picked up the flapping thing.  It was a storm petrel; a brown dove-like sea bird with black webbed feet.  It seemed confused and could not stand up without falling.  I guess it had flown into us in the dark.  The second time Bill put the bird on the stern of the boat, it seemed better and flew away.

At noon on Friday June 3, we were at the sea buoy off St Augustine, Florida.  It was hot.  There were wildfires in Florida and Georgia.  We could see the smoke plumes from miles offshore.   St Augustine was bathed in smoke.  We decided that even though we had been at sea for 48 hours we would not stop in St Augustine but keep going (revision five).  Bill called Customs and Immigration to clear us into the US using our Florida Frequent Boater cards.  The cards show that we have passed a background check.  They should exempt us from having to appear in person before a customs or immigrations officer.  At first my Frequent Boater Card number didn’t work.  The agent said I would have to appear at the federal offices in Jacksonville.  Bummer!  But, after Bill’s persistent prodding, my records showed up in the system, and we were cleared into the US without ever touching land.

We motored sailed on until late afternoon when the wind picked up and we shut the engine off.  Several times during the day we had dolphins swimming along with us.  The dolphins we saw at sea were different from the ones we saw in the Intracoastal Waterway.  They were shorter, a fatter, and spotted.  They seemed really happy to see our boat.  They would race over to see us, jump completely out of the water, and swim in formation very fast alongside the boat crossing from one side of the boat to the other by passing under the boat.  They put on quite a show in the crystal clear water.

When the wind blew, we sailed.  When the wind died down, we motored.  Friday night, Saturday, and Saturday night crept by slowly with each of us catching two hours sleep as the other sailed the boat.  We passed Jacksonville, Fernandina Beach, Brunswick, Savannah, and Beaufort, SC as we sailed north toward Charleston.  With the autopilot steering the boat, there was little to do except watch for ships and other boats.  My Kindle kept me entertained and awake as Bill slept.  I could read a book, or I could play some of the word games I had downloaded.  When we were within cell phone range, I could check my e-mail.  With its nice little light I could do it in the dark.  I probably would have been terribly bored without the Kindle.  During one of Bill’s nighttime watches, two flying fish landed on deck; one just outside the cockpit.  Rather than waking me up, he took lots of pictures then threw the two fish back into the sea.

Early Sunday morning we were off the entrance to Charleston Harbor.  We were ready to have a full night’s uninterrupted sleep, so we came in through the jetties, turned north on the ICW, stopped, and waited the longest drooping eyed 45 minutes for the Ben Sawyer bridge to open.  By noon we were anchored in Deweese Creek.  Captain Bill lifted the ship’s temperance order, and we each had a couple of beers with our lunch.  I was instantly asleep.  It was good not to be moving.  If fact, it was so good that we planned to remain for two nights and savor the sleep.  During our trip from Powell Cay we had covered 500 miles in 100 hours.  Whew, we deserved a rest.

Another sailboat, Tranquility, was anchored with us in the creek.  Around midnight a thunderstorm passed by to the north of us.  We got a fireworks show, 30 knot wind gusts, but very little rain.  Our anchor held, but unknown to us Tranquility’s anchor dragged.  In the morning we discovered she was very much aground; heeled over 45° with her hull and keel high and dry.  But by the time Sea Tow arrived, the tide had risen and she was refloated with little effort.  We spent the day being lazy.  Gary McGraw, who lives on Deweese Island and has sailed with us in the past, came out with a friend for a drink that evening.  I am afraid that after being alone for over a week Bill and I nearly talked them to death.

Tuesday morning Gary came by in his boat and waved, and we headed north.  The plan was to anchor before we got to Georgetown, SC.  There we would have to decide whether to hop outside for a quick trip up the coast or to continue up the ICW stopping in North Myrtle Beach to see some of my family.  That day was hot in the ICW, and there wasn’t any wind.  We spent the day killing greenhead flies.  There were hundreds and hundreds of them.  Bill would swat, and I would suck up the carcasses with our Dust Buster.  It was a regular fly Auschwitz.  In the midst of the mass killing, I baked a loaf of bread.  With the current speeding us on, we arrived off Georgetown earlier than we had expected.  Since the forecast offshore winds were light and variable and since we find the Waccamaw River so delightful, we abandoned our offshore plans, slowed down, and spent the next two nights on the river and the following night in a marina in Little River.

Our first night anchored on the Waccamaw wasn’t very peaceful.  Bill forgot to put a screen in one of the open ports.  The bugs found the opening in our defenses, and they found me.  Our second night we anchored in a bend of the river behind an island near Bucksport.  It was lovely.  We could see three osprey nests from the boat and could hear them calling to one another.  Several times an osprey would fly by dipping down into the water for a drink.  They weren’t fishing, just getting a little water to drink or to cool off.  We too took a refreshing fresh water swim.  With the sweat washed off and the sun awning and wind scoop up, it was nice and cool.  This time Bill got the screens in all the port holes, and it was a really lovely night.

Thursday we motored up the ditch to Little River.  We saw my aunt, uncle, and cousins as well as my sister Elaine and her husband JP.  It was good to catch up with family.

After refueling at the Myrtle Beach Yacht Club, we were on the way north Friday morning.  We motor sailed out of the Little River Inlet headed for Carolina Beach.  The outside run from Little River to the Cape Fear River only takes a couple of hours.  The plan was to go up the river to Snow’s Cut and then into an anchorage at Carolina Beach.  There we would spend the night, move up the ICW to Wrightsville Beach, anchor there for the day, and head out Masonboro Inlet late in the afternoon for an overnight trip to Beaufort, NC.  Well, once again Captain Bill changed his mind.  We listened to the NOAA offshore forecast.  It said Friday night would be the best night of the next three.  We never stopped.

We sailed in the ocean until the wind died in the early morning then motored arriving off Beaufort at sunrise Saturday morning.  From there we motored through Morehead City’s ship turning basin and up the ICW to Adams Creek where we anchored in Cedar Creek.  Our friends Robert and Susan Banks on Impetuous III sailed down from Oriental to spend the evening with us.  We dined on the last of the dolphin fish we caught in the Exumas.  It was cooked on the grill along with the fresh corn on the cob that the Banks brought.  The evening wasn’t as hot as the local radio had led us to believe it would be.  We had a good breeze, and in the shade of our sun awning lots of sea stories and boat adventures were told and retold.

Sunday morning Robert ferried us over to Impetuous III for Susan’s great breakfast of ham and bacon and eggs and grits and toast and tomatoes and fruit, and juice.  Stuffed, Bill and I raised our anchor and headed up the Neuse River to Northwest Creek Marina.  We were safely tied up in our slip by 4pm.  The boat’s air conditioner was waiting in the trunk of my car, but the car’s battery was completely dead.  Bill got the car running.  We installed the air conditioner on the boat and then drove to the Little Italy Restaurant for a celebratory pizza.  We were back on board Irish Eyes and sound asleep by 10pm.

Today will be a work day.  We have lots of cleaning, fixing, packing, and sorting to accomplish.  We should be at home in Kingsport within a week.  Our trip was 143 days long.  We have no idea how many miles we covered.  It was great…     and, we are still speaking to one another.

Sunday, May 29, 2011

I have taken plenty of pictures of sunsets.  Bill tells me that sunrises are just as pretty and took this picture looking east across Great Guana Cay to prove it to me.  Someday I’ll get up in time to look for myself.

We caught this dolphin fish trolling in the Exuma Sound.  Within a half an hour it was in the freezer - ten meals for two people.

Isabella (along with her parents, Julia and Josh) came to George Town and spent a week with us on the boat.  She spent most of her time developing her digging-in-the-sand skills.

On the rocks at Spanish Wells we saw two of these yellow-crowned night-herons.  It was the middle of the day, but they were night herons just the same.

We are anchored in Marsh Harbor, Abaco, the Bahamas, and we are now moving north and officially headed toward home.   Things have calmed down for a few days, and I have time to write.

We saw Haynes and Laura off in Staniel Cay back on April 30.  After a day’s rest, we pulled up the anchor and sailed south to White Point on Great Guana Cay where there is a beautiful sand beach and nothing else.  Along the way we noticed the genoa sail UV protection strip was coming loose.  The sun had rotted the thread that held it in place.  Between long walks on the beach, we took the genoa down, Bill sewed the UV strip back on by hand, and we raised the sail again.  That took us two days.  Life is tough when you are cruising.

A few days later, we motored the 4 miles south to Bay Rush Bay, another beautiful beach without so much as a single footprint in the sand.  We walked the length of the beach in the morning, and Bill later crossed the island to the Exuma Sound side of the cay.  There he found a Plexiglas bottomed, two person sea kayak washed up and overturned on the ocean side beach.  Bill talked about this kayak all night.  In the morning, I followed him across the rocky island to see the boat.  It really was a nice kayak, but there were 300 yards of the sharpest, most jagged, loose limestone rock that would have to be crossed to get it to our side of island.  Julia, Josh, and Isabella were to meet us in Georgetown in a few days, and it would have been perfect for paddling about with our grandchild looking at the fish and coral below.  But…  We were 60, the boat weighed 80 lb, the rocks were sharp, and a single slip and fall would have ruined everything…   If you need a glass bottomed kayak, it is plainly visible atop the grass covered sand dune at 23°59.2’N 076°19.7’W.  That is where we put it down.  It wasn’t for lack of trying.  Maybe its owner will find it.

May 8 brought Mother’s Day, and both kids sent notes.  We motored south to Cave Cay and anchored between Cave Cay and Musha Cay.  It was a nice spot.  Cave Cay has a marina and the beginnings of a resort development, but it looks like the money ran out before the development was finished.  Musha Cay is owned by David Copperfield, the magician.  The whole island can be rented for $375,000 for a week, maximum of 20 guests.  Sounds like a great place for a family Thanksgiving or Christmas holiday, don’t you think?  That’s only $16,000 each exclusive of food and transportation.

Monday we motored out of Cave Cay Cut into the Exuma Sound headed to George Town.  The wind picked up a little in the morning allowing us to raise the sails and motorsail south.  The sea was fairly flat, so we put out a fishing line.  We hooked and lost one dolphin fish (mahi-mahi), but landed the second, a 42 inch, 14 pounder.  Bill cleaned and filleted the fish making a huge bloody mess in the cockpit.  I put 10 packages of fish with two servings each in the freezer.  A few hours later, we were anchored off Hamburger Beach near George Town in time for a supper of fresh fish, peas and rice, and the bread I had baked along the way.  Suitably stuffed, we joined the other cruisers ashore for a bonfire and a few drinks.  Among the cruisers was a couple from Tennessee, Trevor Wilson from Kingsport and Sara Magee from Chattanooga.  They had quit their jobs, and still in their twenties, took a year off cruising on her 27 foot Hunter sailboat.  We enjoyed their conversation at the bonfire that night and again a few days later over beer and hamburgers at the Sand Bar Grill.

Getting ready for Self family occupied our next several days.  We moved Irish Eyes to the town side of the harbor, did our laundry, got propane, fuel, and groceries.  While getting fuel at the Shell service station, Bill was approached by a man selling local mangoes.  The smallest note Bill had was $10, so he got $10 worth of mangos.  That turned out to be twenty four mangoes.  Some were soft, red, and sweet; some were yellow and firm and fibrous.  All were rapidly ripening, and they were more than we could eat.  We shared our ripe mangoes with Trevor and Sara.

Sunday, May 15 Julia, Josh, and Isabella arrived bringing with them the sandals, camera, and book we had ordered over the internet and sent to them.  It was like Christmas; gifts and family.  We hung out on the boat for the rest of the day chatting and letting Isabella explore our 34 foot universe.

While they were with us, Irish Eyes became our Mobile Beach House.  The harbor at George Town, Elizabeth Harbor, is formed by the large Great Exuma Island to the north and the narrow and long Stocking Island to the south.  Stocking Island has beaches and beach bars.  Exuma has George Town.  We moved from one spot in the harbor to another as the mood struck us.  Isabella wanted to go to the beach twice a day, so we did.  We had lunch at the Chat and Chill on Volleyball Beach and days later at Alvin’s Sand Bar on Hamburger Beach.  Isabella dug in the sand, we searched for shells on both the harbor and sea sides of Stocking Island, and everyone swam both at the beach and at the boat.  Bill took Josh on a jungle hike and later took both Julia and Josh out to the Lilly Cay reef to see the fish, sea fans, and coral.  Julia filled two cream cheese containers with shells to take home.  Sadly, the week ended, and we took our guests to George Town, put them in Rudy’s Taxi #9, and sent them to the airport and home.  Isabella in her three year old voice declared the ‘hamas to be a good place.

Our original plan was to hang around for a few days of R&R for us and restocking for the boat, but the wind was from the southeast, home was to the northwest, so off we went in the morning.  The first day took us up the sound side of the Exumas through Dotham Cut to the Blackpoint Settlement, the next day north on the Exuma Bank to Roberts Cay, and the third day across the banks and through Current Cut to the Current Settlement in north Eleuthera.  These were all-day trips – sun up to near sun down; that is if we could have seen the sun.  With a trough of low pressure over Cuba the sky was cloudy, the sun was blocked out, and the water was gray.  It was like the Exumas with their blue sky and clear water were leaving us before we left them.  On that third day without sun we had real problems seeing and avoiding the underwater coral heads north of Beacon Cay that threatened to reach up to grab our boat.  That tiring three day marathon was capped off with the shallow approach to Current Cut between the sand bars on one side and a rocky coast on the other ending in the aptly named narrow cut with its fierce current flowing against us.  We anchored near a beach north of the cut in preparation for some time off from our mad dash north and for a day a trip over to Spanish Wells to look around and buy a few groceries.

Spanish Wells is on an island at the northern end of Eleuthera and was about five miles from our anchorage.  We had never been there before because the harbor is narrow and shallow.  We needed a little rest, so we motorsailed over and anchored off the harbor entrance.  The dinghy was in the water and ready to go by late morning.  Bill and I watched a ferry from Nassau go into the harbor as we were readying the dinghy.  The harbor channel is very, very narrow and the ferry used up every bit of the width.  Bill steered our little dinghy along in the shallow edge of the channel.  He said if another ferry came along we could just step out and run.

We walked around town looking at all the industrious people working on the boats in the two full service yards.  We were reintroduced to road traffic by the constant stream of cars, motor scooters, and golf carts that whizzed up and down the streets that lacked sidewalks.  Since Spanish Wells is a Methodist community, our lunch at the Generation Gap restaurant was accompanied by iced tea rather than beer.  There were banana and mango trees among the houses reminding us that we still had some ripening mangos from George Town aboard our boat.

The wind picked up while we were in town, so we moved into the lee of a small island called Meek’s Patch.  It must be a hopping place on the weekends.  There were chairs, tables, hammocks, grills, and all kinds of other stuff in the shade of the trees along the beach.  But on Wednesday it was all deserted, so with the island to ourselves, we had a nice walk and a refreshing swim before supper.  With the wind from the northeast and blowing a little more than we like, our plans were to stay put for a few days and enjoy goofing off.

I woke up at 5:30 in the morning to find Captain Bill already up, dressed, and ready to go.  The wind had died down a little and gone to the southeast evaporating my dream of a lazy day.  “Let’s head for Abaco”, he said before even the sun had gotten up.  Short of munity what could I do but go along?  The sailing was pleasant enough, although at 65 miles, most of which was in the open ocean, it was a long day.  We came through the Little Harbor Cut and were anchored behind Lynyard Cay in time for supper.

We sailed and motored up to Marsh Harbor on Friday morning.  It looks like we will be here for a few days.  The weather is not going to be good for heading to Florida this week.  That’s okay.  I am getting my chance to goof off, and if need be, there are lots of things to do in and around Marsh Harbor.  The Abacos are different from the Exumas.  In the Abacos there are far more restaurants, shops, and bars and far fewer cruiser organized events.  In the Exumas there is more public land to explore and fewer private property signs.  It is just more civilized here.  We like them both in their own way.