The Great Bahamas trip: Part 1 / Tampa to Bimini

On the 20th day of January, in the year two thousand and nine the great ship Elice II set sail from the docks of Lands End Marina proudly and stately with the Skipper, the Admiral, and myself, (Nat Manning) as foredeck crew. The air was electric with the excitement of an adventure that would see us at sea for almost two months. An hour later we were back at the dock with a raw water pump impeller failure. Hell, we’ll try it again tomorrow!

On the 21st day of January, in the year – yea we made it this time, leaving the dock at around four, or four thirty, or five, ok, I don’t know what time it was. Lets try to recapture the magnificence and glory of the moment please! Not an easy task. Just out of sight of the dock, around the corner, we promptly ran aground in the channel. Twenty minutes of waiting in the flow of the incoming tide and we were clear and on our way.

Dark came quickly as we motored through the blackness of the night, dodging the thousands of lit and unlit buoys as I tried to learn the operation of a new chart plotter and radar controls. The fact that we cleared Egmont Key and set out into the open waters of the Gulf of Mexico fours hours later without incident was not my fault.

With the turn to the South in the open waters, the Skipper rolled out the sails and we settled in for the long night. That’s when I noticed the cold. With frost warnings facing the dirt dwellers, the night was bitter cold and there’s not much to say except that it was just one of those nights that seem to never end. My goose-bumps were actually hugging one another, trying to stay warm. After several eternities, the sky began graying in the east and eventually gave way to what turned out to be a very pleasant day.

Our little ship continued its southward voyage through the day on calm seas and when Sanibel Island was cleared abeam, we angled in, closing with the coast slowly until we entered Capri Pass and steamed up the Marco River to the Marco River Marina, deftly backing into the same slip where I parked my own ship, Snap One in several years ago. As always, the marina staff is very helpful, professional, and courteous, making it a favorite of mine. By five p.m. we were secured and ready for some well earned rest.

Morning came much too soon and in short order we were casting off the lines and on our way again. With the anticipation of another big day at sea, and needing to make good time, we charged down the Marco River and promptly ran aground at the “Y”
intersection at Capri Pass. Are we seeing a pattern emerging here?

Within twenty minutes the tide had floated us free and we were on our way again. With the light winds today, we kept the iron beast in the bilge roaring to help the sails speed us on our way to adventure. Today we rigged our trolling rod with a rather attractive greenish skirt and began trolling in anticipation of catching enough fish to feed the crew and most of the children of Somalia. I’m not sure what’s going on. I found the green skirt to be very attractive. I had the Skipper examine it and he advised that not only did he find it very attractive, but that if he was a fish, he would surely bite it. The Admiral just frowned. We drug the skirt all day and with fish jumping all around, none found the skirt as attractive as the Skipper and I.

Barely winning our race with the sun, we approached and entered the Little Shark River and lowered the anchor in the Florida Everglades. Not long after we settled in, the Skipper killed the only mosquito that was seen as night settled over the jungle river like a black shroud. The reason for the lack of mosquitoes might have something to do with the Admiral tasking me with the grilling of the chicken. This led to an eleven alarm fire that took the entire ships complement to control. The chicken turned our great though and no damage was done to the boat. Admiral says that my eyebrows should grow back within a couple of weeks.

Refreshed from a good nights sleep in the comfort and safety of the River, we hoisted the anchor and got underway with a growing excitement, knowing today we will cross the infamous Florida Bay. Of course, we ran aground in the mouth of the Little Shark River. After about ten minutes this time, the rising tide floated us free and we were on our way. The Skipper is confident that the fish will discover our skirt today. The Admiral just frowned.

It would be best to summarize the voyage across Florida Bay then jump to the approach to the Florida Keys and the seven mile bridge. Crossing Florida Bay we drug the very attractive greenish skirt to no avail. We picked up one of the seventy four million crab pots and dragged it about a quarter mile before we backed up and set it free. I was flogged once by the Admiral and three times by the Skipper. We had a jarring crash with an underwater object at full speed. The Skipper said that it was a submarine. I have no comment. Approaching the seven mile bridge, the Skipper advised that we either had the standard mast of 63 feet, or the high mast model of 67 feet. The bridge clearance is 65 feet, so the difference in masts heights is a bit more traumatic than it at first seems. In the end, we came up with the very effective scientific plan of having the ships complement duck as we reached the bridge. We ducked, the ship passed under the bridge without touching, and we emerged armed with the knowledge that our mast height is 63 feet. I wept and soiled my pants. The Admiral ordered the entire crew (me) flogged.

We arrived at the Marathon Marina at eight bells in the afternoon watch, took on fuel, and disposed of my pants. Dinner at the marina restaurant of Mahi Mahi and continuous rounds of Margaritas helped to put the day’s passage behind us. Both the Skipper and Admiral insisted that I take a shower. Next, crossing the Gulf Stream.

Filed Under: Travels

Tags: Bahamas • Nat • travel