What the heck is going on with the world? I don’t seem to be able to keep anything on the boat anymore, well anything of value. I seem to have the unique ability to drop anything and everything of importance over the side. Any ideas?

Jim Dandy

S/V Seanile

Dear Jim,

You ability is far from unique. Believe me, we all have the same problem you do. Some time in a millennia from now an advanced civilization will excavate an ancient marina and wonder why we hid all of our valuables in the muck below our boats. The advanced archeologists will probably surmise that we had a real problem with pirates or looters or something like that, when in reality it is something quite simple.

Saltwater.

Yep, saltwater. You see, saltwater possess some very mystical qualities. We think of it as a common and very much understood resource on our planet when in fact it is quite different than what our scholars understand to date.

Saltwater has a special kind of unknown cosmic source it that is actually very much misunderstood. It’s not like the ordinary magnetism that attracts iron, in fact it tends to repel iron and particularly galvanized steel. Toss your 45 pound anchor over the bow and let the wind blow. The surface tension created by stiff breezes interacting with saltwater tends to energize the seawater thusly repelling anything made from iron or galvanized steel.

I once, during a heavy blow, saw my anchor floating past me downwind. It was being repelled to the point of almost weightlessness. I eventually caught up to it near the shore where the magnetic properties were in fact much less due to the decreased dept of the saltwater, which allowed my boat and the anchor, to finally stop near the shallow beach.

The magnetic properties are particularly strong with several other metals such as gold, silver, brass, bronze, and stainless steel. Try setting your brass keys on the deck next to an aluminum beer can. The keys will quite easily slip over the side guided by this unseen force while the empty beer can remains in place.

I was on top of the mast last week replacing my masthead light. I dropped the plastic lens cover to the Admiral standing below, with no problems as we had zero wind. I accidently dropped the stainless steel one of a kind bulb holder thingy from the inside a minute later. . Straight down… Not on your life.

This non-replaceable part began a gentle arc and in a matter of 54’ (mast height) had exceed the width of the beam by two feet exceeding the Admirals grasp over the side.

When I got down she immediately accused me of tossing this highly prized stainless steel part over the side to facilitate my request for a new LED masthead light.

I tried to explain to her about the magnetic properties of saltwater, which seemed to elude her to some degree, as I was getting ‘The Look’ again.

I once dropped a brass spacer ring on the cockpit floor. It bounced three times, up onto the cockpit combing, once on the deck and finally over the side. I’ve had stainless steel clevis pins roll up and over a fiddle, into the sink, and finally out the open thru hull drain.

The Admiral, still in disbelief, continued with the look. “Here, I’ll show you,” I said. I picked up one of her rings that she had taken off while cleaning a nice fat grouper. I held the ring at chest level and was going to drop it on the cabin sole.

This turned out to be one of those out of body experiences you’ve heard about. My inner core reverberated with an uneasy feeling that what I was doing was absolutely dangerous, but somehow I had no control, I couldn’t stop the chain of events already in motion. I was bent on concluding this poorly thought out experiment…

Anyhow, the bruising will eventually heal, the Admiral has her ring back, and it was in fact my watch that we lost. As she was grabbing for her ring the pin came out of my watch band which allowed the watch to hit the deck.

Not only was my point made, but every morning I can hear my waterproof dive watch producing a muffled signal to the fish that it’s time to get up. It went over the side in three bounces…

The magic of saltwater, what else can I say~

Ahoy,

Capt. Bilgeplug

The best scalloping areas are a bit too shallow for our big boat as I draw 5′ of draft.However, I only need 6″ on the dinghy. So, we put the dinghy on a trailer and headed to the great north hunting grounds. By the way, for us, the great north is about 3 hours from here up along the west coast of central Florida.

We met with the family at the usual Horseshoe beach location and immediately commenced to collecting the little critters. We headed out to the usual pack of boats that seemed to always find a few square feet of open water in-between each other. We managed to eek out our few square feet and began snorkeling.

Once again, easy pickings. It’s amazing how we can still find scallops among this crowd of people. We would head out every day and return with our daily limit within a couple of hours.

Once again it became routine with the cleaning. We started an assembly line with the whole scallops on one end, and the other producing the tender little morsels we so dearly treasure! Not waiting, we again went to the ‘Cook your Catch’ restaurant a few blocks away.

Our little pal’s were fried and served up with grits, fries, slaw and hushpuppies. Nothing but healthy eating for us. The only thing that made it more healthy was an ice cold bottle of grain, wheat, hops, barley and pure sparkling spring water.

Turn left by this pole, down the dirt road

The rest of the family had to head back to work a week after the adventure began. I however, attempting to become a full fledged beach bum, decided to stay a bit longer. There was more to this adventure… It couldn’t end this soon.

We set out in our quest to visit the past-

Old Florida. We found it. It took a bit of hunting and searching, but we finally found what we were seeking. The spot we found was a lonely patch of Florida’s sawgrass and marshlands. Perfect for the dinghy. We put her in the water and set out to exploring.

Without much trouble we made our way out into the Gulf. The water was clear and clean with a perfect mixture of grass and weeds. Scallop heaven. No boats except us. Everyone opted to go to the regular spots within earshot of civilization and well within cellphone range.

We like to see the bars fade to nothing and finally grant us the freedom of ‘No Service’.

The scallops were there by the hundreds, for just the two of us. We slipped into the water and had easy pickings in the chest deep water. Most of the time I didn’t have to get the top of my snorkel wet. Just reach down and pick ‘um up. A couple of volunteers even swam into my bag.

This is the hidden spot for getting to the scallops

This was truly a wonderful spot. Pristine in the old world ways. Clean, refreshing, and best of all; quiet and lonely.

We cleaned our catch in the dinghy out of necessity. With the two of us, and 4 gallons of whole wet scallops, the little engine that usually could, couldn’t. We were too heavy to get up on a plane. So, under duress, we gladly sat in our secluded spot cleaning scallops as the sea birds hunted nearby and sound of the quiet calm Gulf wrapped around us.

Another slice of paradise~

Heading out to the scalloping area

The scallops are right here! Everywhere!!!

Just a few minutes in the water!

Going to have to throw some back, over the limit a little...

Okay, so now that you know where my new favorite scalloping spot is, I expect to see you there next season!

Ahoy from the great northern hunting grounds.

Larry and Sheree,

Aboard the S/V AbbyGale’s tender, the ‘BabyGale’

I’ve been reading a lot lately about extensive problems with the onboard MSD, more commonly known as the ‘head’. With all the horror stories out there, we are now very concerned, if not actually afraid, of this necessary device. Is it a basic design flaw? Would it be safer for us to use a five gallon bucket with a Glad Forceflex trash bag full of kitty litter?

Somehow this does not seem like a very pleasant option, what’s the real story here?

Capt. Jonathon Privvy

S/V Thrones Stow

Dear Jonathon,

“Two heads are better than one,” is actually a term with nautical origins. Due to the unseen grand cosmic source which requires something mechanical on a sailboat must always malfunction and at generally at the worst time, repetitive systems have great advantages. Thereby, the manufactures of sailing vessels have added a second head to some vessels.

I have two heads on my boat, one port and one starboard. This fantastic design is so at least one heads saltwater thru-hull pick up will always be submerged, no matter what tack we are on. When my port side head fails, guess which tack I’m on… for days, go figure. Which ultimately leads us back to the cosmic anomaly of functionality, or lack thereof.

I have never, for more than 48 hours, had two functional heads at one time… ever~

Immediately after rebuilding the forward head I stupidly stood on deck with a cold beer and proclaimed success! Within 30 minutes a jellyfish decided to get sucked up the intake of the other head. (Had to get rid of the cold beer) Which leads to a short side story…

The MSD (Marine Sanitation Device) apparently converts urine and poo into an extremely toxic and highly caustic substance, not yet defined on the periodic table, when pumped through the head and into the briny deep. This illegal action requires a multitude of official punishments from numerous local, state, and federal authorities. Apparently when pumped through an MSD directly overboard, the ensuing destruction can be catastrophic to the environment. I offer the teal blue tropical waters of the Bahamas and Exumas as an example. No MSD pump outs for a hundred miles in most areas…

I once saw an FWC officer standing between twin 250hp outboards peeing in the water. As this is unpressurized via the marine head, the chemical elements are unaltered, and thereby rendered safe upon contact with saltwater. Also, the city recently (quite by accident) dumped several million gallons of untreated sewage directly into the bay. Not much of a problem as I believe it was unpressurized via an MSD, so no fines were incurred.

If you are the daring type and want to have some fun: The next time you see an onboard inspection about to happen, run below and set your ‘Y’ valve to discharge overboard and pour in a bottle of yellow food coloring. Give the head two pumps to get the bowl clean, but keep the food coloring in the discharge tube. When they drop a blue dye tab in your head and start pumping it comes out a vivid green…

Another fun thing to do is periodically remove your discharge hoses and take them up to the dock. The hoses, in time, collect deposits which harden inside the hose making the internal diameter smaller and smaller as the months go by.

Firmly grab one end of the hose and start swinging it like a baseball bat striking it against a dock piling. As you continue your swings the hardened material breaks up and at the same time slings out of the hose in a multitude of directions.

I’ve seen people fully dressed, while walking the dog, dive off the dock (with the dog) to avoid the scattergun outflow. You can actually clear an area the size of half a city block in less than 10 seconds of any living creature with this method. This of course does not garner any new friends… but it’s funny as all get out.

Anyhow, a friend of mine came up with a new solution to this tired old problem of cleaning out the hoses. He made a hose connection that attaches to the discharge hose at the joker valve (and it’s called that for a very good reason) and then to the fresh water hose on the dock.

He claims that simply turning the water hose on applies 20-30 psi of pressure on the discharge hose thereby forcing through any clogged TP or other material. He further reports that once the water is turned on the source of the block can be found by locating the growing bulge somewhere along the length of the sanitary discharge hose. A couple of whacks with a flashlight, hammer, hairdryer, or any other suitable object will generally free the obstruction. Of course this only works at the dock. To free the blockage while under way, he rigged a connection from the J-Valve on his SCUBA tank directly to the overboard discharge hose fitting. This would give him 3,000 psi of working pressure.

I would suggest not being within 4NM of his vessel when under way. After all, he enjoys spicy Mexican food and his heads clog regularly.

Ahoy

Captain Bilgeplug

I’ve been kind of busy lately and have been a bit remiss in keeping my website up to date with postings. I’ll have to give myself 20 lashes whilst tied to a phone pole as I haven’t been around a good solid mast for a while now.

I made it back to the States for a brief stint a month or two ago, and then I was off and running again. While home for a short time the Admiral and I managed to chop the dock lines for a week and head south. We ended up in our favorite hole, Pelican Bay at Cayo Costa.

That will be another story when I have time to catch up.

But for now, I’m out running around the world again in a frenzied pace tackling new adventures. I presently find myself in Entebbe Uganda, overlooking Lake Victoria.

Entebbe Sailing Club rules

There are a lot of islands just off shore from Entebbe that I can see from my balcony. They, quite interestingly enough, are on the south side of the equator, while I’m on the north.

I’m in the process of formulating a very scientific experiment that has to do with the Coriolis Effect, which revolves (pun intended) around the spinning of the earth. It’s what causes hurricanes to spin one way, and cyclones to spin the other. Ever wonder why the water in the bathtub drain spins counterclockwise north of the equator? Will it go the other way on the south side?

I’ve been to the south side of the equator many times, Angola, South Africa and such. But this is the first time that I’ve been ON the equator. Someplace where I can have one half of my person in the northern hemisphere while the other half is in the southern hemisphere, at the SAME time! This should top the time I stood in four US states at the same time…

Boats at the club shore

My mission now is to get to the other side of the equator to test said theory. I shall need a water bottle, a funnel, and a bucket… along with suitable transportation to the other side of the equator.

Side story: When I was a young lad I was in the US Navy. I’d crossed the equator, and befitting the finest of US Naval traditions, I was transformed from a mere Pollywog to a Shellback on board a US Destroyer, the Dennis J. Buckley, DD808. I think I was all of 18 at the time. Thusly, being duly indoctrinated into this elite realm of King Neptune himself, I should be allowed safe passage across the equator by boat for this experiment.

To that end I went on the hunt for the local yacht club and subsequently found the Entebbe Sailing Club, thereby meeting the Commodore, Michael Austin. He was gracious enough to take this Yank on a quick tour of the facilities. Michael is from London, and is now a permanent resident of Entebbe, as well as the Commodore.

Commodore Austin and myself on Lake Victoria

http://www.entebbesailingclub.com/

So, I’m busy schmoozing up with the Commodore in hopes of gaining acceptance and membership into the club. With a valid membership card in hand, I believe I’ll make it to the south side of the equator via the sweet little Laser club sailboat…

But first, I need to research a bit more about the local crocs and hippos… I think they are both larger than a Laser~

Ahoy

The Entebbe Sailing Club clubhouse

Sailing Club beach bar

The beached white sailboat is the Commodore's latest project

The islands, center distance, are on the south side of the equator

The Southern Cross as seen from my balcony (double click for larger)

This is designed as a really easy place to list any of your boat related items or services for sale, and as I tend to do… it’s FREE!

www.boatstuff4sale.com

With our out island cruising this past month, we have popped in and out of the modern world. We had a cell phone signal sailing with Naples to our rudder for about eight miles. For the next 200 miles, nothing. What a wonderful change of pace, leaving all the electrons ashore.

Marco Island coming into view

When we did get a signal we would pop up on line and download a ton of email and phone messages. Generally, I would have somewhere near 100 email messages.  About two were all that really mattered. Not much on the phone as everyone knew we were out of touch.

There was one night I hauled the TV antenna up the mast, hooked up the digital TV and we watched Survivor. After the show we turned it back off, it interfered greatly with the view of the night sky.

Nothing on TV compared to we were watching over the bow, the stern, in the water… everywhere around us. Nature was presenting us with the best live show ever. If you stopped idly gazing about you were sure to miss something. A bird, a dolphin, a stingray leaping five feet out of the water, the huge loggerhead turtle, something.

In the everglades we smelled the wilderness. Vegetation, swamp marshes, critters of all sorts, air… pure salt air, fresh and clean. I hadn’t taken a sinus allergy pill in a month now.

We anchored across from here, the Snook Inn Marina

As we pulled into Marco Island, civilization returned. The smell of deep fat fryers permeated the air. There was construction noise, traffic congestion, vehicle exhaust… the pounding of a pile driver for a bridge nearby, the din was unsettling.

In front of Marco was a small island on the charts. It had a 10 foot deep anchorage behind it which was our destination. We would drop the hook, get some sleep, and set sail at sunup.

One minor problem; the island was GONE. Not there. We did see a big patch of sand barely breaking the surface. Most of the water was ankle deep. Dump trucks, cranes and pile drivers lined the shore. A barge was busy excavating the bay and channel we were going to.

Mother nature has a different master plan for the area. It seems that a few years ago when we had all the hurricanes, the island was erased. It all returned to the sea in the fury of strong winds and waves. But, that is what barrier islands do. They come and go, and it has been this way for centuries.

Sunrise, time to head back to sea

Man however, had another idea. Let’s put it back and build something on it.

This should prove interesting sometime in the near future when Mother Nature changes it back again.

We went up the Marco River about a mile and found a spot on the side of the river in a no wake zone, and dropped the hook. Someone from the Snook Inn Marina was on the radio giving us directions to this spot. (THANK YOU AGAIN!)

It was turning dark and time for an adult beverage or three. One interesting thing was a fleet of small boats passing us in the opposite direction. When I looked behind us I saw why.

Sunset.

Everyone was heading out to watch the sunset. This massive glowing ball was inches from the horizon unobstructed by anything. It was going to be a grand view. The sky was sparkling clear. It was a great evening for a green flash.

Another beautiful sunrise

We joined the throngs looking for the flash and were, along with everyone else, disappointed. We will have to just keep making trips out to sea for this event. I saw it once, years ago, while in the Caribbean. My Admiral has yet to witness the elusive event, so it is on our permanent to-do list.

The anchorage was nice, quite peaceful for civilization. The waterfront bars and eateries were full with their sights, sounds, and smells wafting across the water. The dinghy remained upon the foredeck. We would not be joining them this evening, maybe another time. The steady light breeze was enough to provide a perfect night’s sleep on the hook.

We still couldn’t bring ourselves to turn the TV back on…

Ahoy

Vice Admiral Abby at the helm, heading north

We spotted the entrance to Little Shark River as the sun was beginning to kiss the horizon. Our trip took a little longer than we expected because of all the course changes and crab trap rope removal. Had it not been for the traps, it would have been a perfect sail.

This was a new flag when we started

Ahead of us, and slightly inland, were some pretty ferocious looking thunderstorms. Not only were we anxious to make Little Shark River anchorage before the sun completely disappeared, we wanted to get the anchor set ahead of the storms.

Everything happened pretty quickly at this point.

We entered the mouth of the river and made it several hundred yards to the first bend. The chart showed twelve feet of depth there, and a good bend in the river to offer protection from all directions.

The tree line and shore offered protection from the winds and waves, giving us a nice calm anchorage. I pushed the Danforth anchor over the bow roller and let out about fifty feet of chain.

The Admiral was putting the mosquito panels on the cockpit enclosure as the bugs began to find us.

The sun was set and the storm was overhead. It got extremely dark, the lightning moved on top of us. For a period of time, this was a good thing. With every stroke of lightning, I was able to get a visual fix on our position with reference to the trees to make sure the anchor was holding.

This worked for a few minutes, until the skies opened up in a deluge of rain and hail. When the lightning would strike during the heavy rain, the tree line was invisible, cloaked behind a solid wall of rain.

Twenty-five knots of wind, with a few stronger gusts, were being recorded on my wind gauge. As I could no longer see the trees in the utter darkness, the wind howling, hail pelting the boat, I had no idea if we were dragging anchor.

I turned on my little handheld GPS and fixed our position.

Sunrise on the river

Giving the storm a few more minutes to vent its fury, I saw we had moved fifty feet since turning on the GPS. We were dragging, albeit slowly.

Normally I would start the engine and put the boat in gear thereby taking pressure off the anchor and hold us in place. This would not work this time as I was completely blind. Not one source of light anywhere outside the cockpit. I had no idea where the twisting shorelines were anymore. If I kept dragging, where would I drive us to? I couldn’t see a thing.

The Admiral saw the look on my face, and recognized our dilemma. “What can you do? We are blind, and don’t know where to go.”

Realizing how helpless I was at this point, I simply turned the GPS back off. Nothing to do till the storm is over, and then we will figure it out from there.

Forty five minutes later the rains abated. We discovered that we had dragged a total of 155 feet from when I had  turned the GPS on. The anchor was apparently well set at this stage, so nothing left to do but enjoy some ice cold adult beverages and get some sleep.

When things got really quiet I could hear dolphins breathing beside the cockpit of the boat. I couldn’t see where they were, but they were close. I could hear them broach the surface and take breaths. They had apparently found some comfort in sleeping next to the boat for a while.

Awesome.

The next morning we were up at sunrise. This was one of the most peaceful and tranquil spots we had anchored in to date. Absolute solitude in the Florida Everglades.

Getting a free ride back to shore

We could hear the wildlife beginning to stir. I thought about the jungle noises and the TV series, Survivor. If they filmed Survivor Everglades it would only last the first night. Everyone would quit the next morning…

We fully intend to return to Little Shark River and do some daylight exploring. The safety of the boat at anchor should provide some protection from the panthers, snakes, and other people eating creatures of the Everglades. It will be a wonderful adventure that I’m looking forward to exploring.

Easing out into the Gulf on our way north, we set the sails and enjoyed a pot of coffee. Breakfast will have to wait while we indulge in the sunrise and nature’s beauty.

Leaving the river behind as another boat arrives.

Our first catch of the day!

I have listened to all the stories from others who have been there and have been there in a car a few times… just not quite the same. So, with the weather set into a calmer state, we free ourselves from the mooring and head east.

Well, actually north, then west, then south, then northwest and an hour and a half later, east. The path from the mooring field is nothing near direct due to shoaling, islands, anchorages and such. We have to go past the cruise ships to get to the northwest channel and head for deeper water before heading east towards Marathon.

The water is once again crystal clear, and stunningly beautiful. I decide to cut about 4 miles off my course by turning northeast over a shallow area that is charted at 6 feet.

The Admiral is at the bow nervously watching ahead and pointing my turns. The depth sounder is telling me that I have plenty of water under me so the discrepancy with her directions is curious.

She tells me that she is guiding me around rocks and large brain coral. While giving me her explanation we gently tap the sand as we move forward at 4 knots. This really gets your attention and the explanation stops. I know now that I should simply follow directions to deeper water and stop asking questions.

Going under to untangle the traps

Breathing a sigh of relief once we were in deeper water becomes short lived. In front of us are the most crab/lobster buoys I have ever seen in one area. We have negotiated buoys before, but never in this concentration. They are simply everywhere, and have no rhyme or reason to their placement.

Generally, the traps are strung in a line. You can navigate in between lines or cut through the middle of a line and safely get through.

This however, is entirely different.

I am reminded of an old WWII submarine net. Nothing can get through this, not with any ease anyhow. Normally, buoys in 20 feet of water are attached to about 20 feet of rope. This allows us to just go around the buoys without a problem as the rope is vertical between the seafloor and buoy .

Unraveling the mess

The folks here seem to own lots of spare rope. I’m guessing 100 feet of rope for 20 feet of water. The only reason I can think of is that they don’t want to waste time retying to a shorter scope for this depth, or this is just a crab trap wet storage yard.

I can’t imagine that there are this many crabs or lobsters in any one area. Taking a brief assessment of the area, and adding this count to all the other traps I’ve sailed past in the last few weeks, I quickly determine that there are approximately 7 traps for every man, woman, and child, in the state of Florida (including all newborns until the year 2017).

Some of the lines are so long that the buoys have drifted over to other buoys and have now formed a net. The extra line floating on the surface creates a definite hazard to navigation.

The Admiral is pointing furiously, in every direction, while standing on the bow. We eventually succumb to the odds and hang our first trap of the day.

Trying to be polite...

We were sailing through the mine field which meant the engine was not running. The prop, however, was still turning due to our forward motion.

Looking over the side I can see that the rope is disappearing under the rudder and near the prop. Fortunately, I live in a tank top and shorts while on the boat. I didn’t have to change clothes to go swimming this morning.

I use my spare air (a mini scuba tank) to garner enough time underwater to unravel the rope from my prop. In all the excitement I forget to put a couple of pounds of scuba weights in my pockets to help hold me under, that that was a battle in itself.

I get the loose line free that was twisted onto the prop, shaft, and rudder. I’m still trying to be polite here and not cut it.

Now the current has us drifting right back on top of what I just got free. I have Sheree the Admiral start the engine, with me still in the water, and idle forward to keep out of this tangle of line.

Lots of spare line still to deal with

With me dripping wet and back at the helm, we restart our course east.

The Admiral, with her constant directions, seems to favor a more northerly course. She is trying to get out of the mine field and into deeper water where, hopefully, the length of the lines will equal the depth of the water.

Several catches later I become less polite.

I’m not sure if it is due to laziness, or just plain poor sportsmanship on the part of the fishermen, but this is getting ridiculous. It would be impossible to motor through this area at night, it is that bad.

Several hours later we come to a decision point. Marathon, our original destination, is now an equal distance away from us as our next destination, Little Shark River, on the mainland.

Double click and zoom in, this is only one example

We have managed to get into a slightly less populated area of buoys allowing for a little less tension on board. I didn’t have any intention of turning back into that mess, which appears to run all the way from Key West to the Marathon cut along the north side of the Florida Keys.

I’m left wondering why… why is the Florida Wildlife Commission (FWC) so interested in the expiration date of my flares when it strikes me… If I wrap all this line on my prop shaft, split it from the transmission, split open the cutlass bearing and sink… I can use my flares and blow my whistle!

Of course it would be nice if they would regulate the style of fishing and crab/lobster pot storage here, which creates a serious hazard to navigation, but I do suppose my flares are a bit more important.

Hey, come to think of it… this is probably why they don’t patrol this area. The lines keep fouling their props.

Off to Little Shark River~

Ahoy

Yikes, lines everywhere~

Jimmy Buffett's private island just west of Key West

We entered Key West from the south channel, which took us right past two rather large cruise ships. We were dwarfed by the massive floating cities as we eased by. I had kept a look out for anyone on deck near a buffet line. I was hoping someone would toss over some fresh shrimp and maybe a few fried clams but nobody heard my pleas for a free snack.

We pulled into Conch Harbor Marina which is just north of the cruise ships, and directly downtown. We made arrangements for a local mechanic to assist with the parts hunt for my engine intake cooling valve. The problem with an older boat is parts. Most of the parts you need are not made anymore, and can be difficult to find if you don’t know where the salvage yards are.

This valve, which is in the hull, would mandate a ‘haul out’ if replacement was needed. That requires the boat to be lifted all the way out of the water for the repair, an expensive proposition I really wanted to avoid.

Finally approaching Key West cruise ship docks, the tallest thing here!

The folks at the marina were wonderful, and very helpful. The mechanic would be down in the morning so in the meantime, boat chores.

We topped off the fresh water tanks and did a bunch of cleaning and organizing. I walked the block from the marina through the pool/bar/restaurant area to an upper level overlooking the festivities. Things were winding up for ‘Fantasy Fest’, a Key West party week event.

Fantasy Fest is a bit of a different event from most parties thrown by a town. This one is clothing optional, with a few restrictions. Body paint constitutes covering so… just about anything goes, and it does. Doing laundry was certainly entertaining.

The daytime activities are reasonably tame. We were riding our bikes down Duval st. enjoying the town. There was a 60 year old guy painted gold and silver wearing a ‘G’ string and fairy wings. He was sitting at an outdoor cafe enjoying his  morning coffee and paper. Fortunately for us he had his legs crossed. (That’s why I’m just guessing at the ‘G’ string)   

Anyway, the mechanic showed up. He tried but could not find the part I needed to avoid the haul-out. Seeing that I was not wanting to spend over a grand for this bit of excitement, he was able to give the valve a temporary fix. He took the valve apart and pulled the barrel out of the center and turned it so it was full open before reinserting it back into the valve body. I was standing by with scuba gear if this failed so I could go over the side and plug the valve from below, which was fortunately not necessary.

The engine tested at 100% cooling so we were good to go, which we did. We moved over to the north side of the island to the mooring field.

We had an interesting time getting tied up. Generally, mooring balls have pennants (a long piece of rope with an eyelet) that you grab with a boat hook and attach to the cleat thereby securing yourself to the mooring. None of the balls here have a pennant you can grab. After several passes the Admiral, while lying on the foredeck, made a lasso out of our dock line and lassoed the mooring ball. We would retie this into a proper arrangement once we launched the dinghy.

Making hats in front of Sloppy Joe's Bar

We managed to make a few new friends while here, and even ran into an old one, Jim, from a marina we used to live at.

Jim is now working in Key West managing a bar, and apparently having a grand time of it. We traded stories and caught up on what’s going on. Jim tells me that he gets lots of requests from people who want him to take them to the Dry Tortugas on his sailboat (moored just ahead of us).

Jim shudders at the thought of making the trip and anchoring in the tricky waters. He told me that he would rather pay for the tickets himself for people to ride the Tortugas Ferry than take his sailboat out there. So, if you’re ever in Key West and want to go to the Tortugas, find Jim, the night manager at Schooners Wharf, you might talk him into buying you a ferry ticket…

We did a lot of the usual tourist things while in Key West. I bought some new Kino sandals and a new straw hat, Mel Fisher museum, and so on. Rental bikes were the way to get around, as long as you kept them securely locked. Bikes here have a habit of being ‘borrowed’ a lot.

Fresh water and free fish!

One night it rained enough to fill the dinghy with fresh water. It was deep enough for a really nice fresh water bath! Their was even one fish in it (I suppose he jumped in) who became cut bait for fishing.

We then took a day to make some repairs. The wind finally eased off a bit which allowed us to take down the jib (foresail) for repairs. We also fix a few other things.

The Admiral climbed the mast to the spreaders and swung out on a Bosun’s Chair to put new spreader boots on the tips of the spreaders. This will prevent any more problems when the jib rests against the spreader every now and then while sailing. The last time, when the starboard shroud popped out of the spreader, the boot popped off (when we heaved to I believe) and a small piece of wire caught the stitching on the sail. It started to unravel and come apart leaving long threads blowing in the breeze.

With the sail on the deck, the Admiral was able to fix this problem once I repaired and reset the shroud.

We generally got the AbbyGale ready for sea. Our plan was to head towards Marathon tomorrow and anchor out near Spanish Rocks on the north side for the night. Then we would jump across Florida Bay and get to the mainland the next morning.

Sheree stitches sails by the sea shore

The rental bikes were returned after a trip to the grocery store topping off our supplies. We were full of fresh water and had plenty of fuel. Sails fixed, rigging fixed, engine valve fixed…

It was time to put Key West to our rudder and move on.

Ahoy~

Blowing the conch horn at sunset

Key West rooster on the loose

Duval street, on a quiet morning

Key West house boats, what a way to live...

Houseboat, the economical way

Stuck in the tourist sector... gotta find my way out~

If the Admiral is this happy, shopping must be nearby...

Ah yes.... shopping!

Mel's museum, a must see when in Key West

Wouldn't you love to find this on the beach?

Or this?

Or how about this?

Taking a break... resting up before going back to sea

It was just after sunrise when we started our trek eastward. Our new friends aboard ‘As You Wish’ were heading out in a few hours. They were going to make a night crossing north to Port Charlotte. The winds would not be favorable as they would be heading into the waves and wind for most of the trip.

Boca Grande Key in the Marquesas

We rounded the shoals and decided to head south of Rebecca Shoals. The keys continue due east until arriving at Key West some 70 miles later. We would have a long run, probably not making it all the way to Key West in one day.

The winds were out of the north west at 15kts when we started, with 4-6 foot seas. It was an interesting sail as we remained just north of the Gulf Stream. Much higher waves were our there, so we stayed in closer to the islands.

The sky was absolutely beautiful and the water an incredible blue color. All systems were back online after fixing the electrical problem.

While in the Dry Tortugas I noticed my energy needs on a steady increase. We were not using more electricity that I could tell, but more incoming electrons were required to keep the systems alive. The wind generator was getting a great work out, just some clouds for the solar panel.

I was at the point of getting the portable generator out and running it to keep the beer cold when I discovered the problem. I have four 12volt house batteries on board that run the systems. With everything very quiet on the boat I could hear bubbling. Not normal.

And here comes the winds... but still pretty!

The bubbling was coming from one cell of one battery. Apparently the battery had developed an internal short and was eating electricity faster than I could make it.

Once I disconnected this battery from the system everything went back to normal. We would only be short a little capacity, but still able to efficiently run everything.

We bounced along on our journey as the winds started to become more easterly. We really started to slow down. A bit slower than I expected, and the helm felt a little funny.

The Admiral looked behind us and saw a crab trap, on about 80 feet of rope, following us. It was making quite a wake.

I put the boat into a ‘heave-to’ position. Basically, you back the jib by turning and trying to sail it on the wrong side with the jib against the mast. Then turn opposite rudder and the boat just stops and drifts. A very controlled maneuver and very safe. Everything just settles down as you drift into your own lee waters.

A tired hawk stops onboard for a rest while out at sea

Once we slowed to a stop the trap simply fell off the front of the rudder and went free. While we were stopped and not beating against the waves, now was a good time to fix lunch, so we did.

We continued our sail until we were abeam the Marquesas Islands. It was clear that we wouldn’t get all the way to Key West so I found a spot on the west side of Boca Grande Island where we would spend the night.

Once we were next to the island we found a funny current, going opposite of the wind. The only way to properly anchor here was with a ‘Bahamian’ style anchor. We put one anchor to the north, set out 150 feet of rode and then dropped the other anchor to the south. With the anchors pulling in opposite directions, we stayed locked in place against the shifting tide and winds.

The next morning brought us a 30 knot easterly blow, so we stayed put for the day and just enjoyed ourselves. It was windy in the lee of the island, but relatively calm.

That night, just after sunset we saw the oddest thing. In the water moving with the current were some very bright luminescent creatures. We were thinking maybe jelly fish of some sort. They glowed like a firefly stuck in the on position and were about the size of a half of a hot dog. We could never get close enough to catch one, so we are not sure exactly what they were.

And now a finch finds us for a rest

The next morning we headed out for Key West. Only fifteen or twenty miles from here, and easy run.

Getting out into the ocean we were once again heading into the wind and waves. This time about 15-20 knots and 4 foot seas. With the winds directly off our nose, we would have to run the motor.

The funny sound of steam escaping, and the smell, broke our revere. I looked over and saw that we were over heating. We immediately pulled back on the power and slowed to a crawl beating into the wind and waves.

We were not going to sail as my starboard shroud (the line on the right side of the mast that runs from the top, across the end of the spreader, to the deck) had popped out when we were sailing east from the Tortugas. I didn’t notice it until we had already departed Boca Grande, and planned on fixing it in Key West. It wasn’t likely we were going to sail on a starboard tack today anyhow.

So, checking the engine room I found the source of the steam. The engine uses a cooling system that is tied into the water heater. When the engine is running, it also makes hot water for us. This was the first time it has been that hot.

With slowing the engine down, everything started to cool. This meant it was a cooling water problem. Not the pump… so back checking everything I end up at the intake valve on the bottom of the boat. This lets seawater in to cool the engine.

Another fine sunset

When closing/opening the valve to clean the sea strainer yesterday the valve broke, in a semi open position. It broke internally, and was difficult to notice. We therefore had about 30% of our normal cooling water flow, which limited us to 1,500 RPM. Enough to make 2.3 knots.

Beating into the waves and winds, that meant Key West was now about 3 times as far away. We were moving forward at a walk. This was one spare part we didn’t have on-board.

This 4 hour trip now became an 10 hour trip.

At least it’s a trip in paradise!

Ahoy

We were really glad to see Fort Jefferson. The pictures do not do the waves justice. We had spent the night pitching and rolling in the confused seas. We were looking forward to a bit calmer water as we entered the bank that supported the fort.

We followed a surreptitious route into the marked anchorage along the western route. The normal channel had some time ago shoaled over forbidding passage. We arrived to find only one other boat in the anchorage.

I picked the nicest spot I could find according to the charts and tried to set the anchor. After several attempts and failures, we moved a little bit and tried again, this time with success. The bottom is covered in shifting sands and therefore very loose. It takes a bit to find some solid sand to dig into.

The anchorage view from the top of the fort, all two boats.

The anchorage was rough and rolling as the small shoaled area provided little protection from the open sea. There would be no real relaxing for a while, no matter how tired we were.

As we settled in and cleaned up from last nights passage the National Park Service police force came out into the anchorage and tied up to the only other boat there. Inspection time I guess.

We stayed up as long as we could waiting on our turn to be inspected. Going below and taking a nap we would wait for their knock on the hull. I suppose they felt sorry for our haggard appearance and didn’t disturb us knowing we just completed an all night passage.

It was the fact that we were dragging anchor that awoke us. We were heading out to sea a little at a time. The strong rolling and pitching kept popping the anchor loose of the soft sand on the bottom. We went through our anchor resetting drill and this time let out three times too much anchor rode. Normally you should not need 100’ of chain out in 10’ of water, but I was determined to not drag again.

The view from in the fort, the AbbyGale at anchor

We rolled and rocked and rocked and rolled all night. The water was the prettiest teal blue we had seen in quite some time. The colors and hues were awesome. Postcard perfect. The visibility was amazing as well. Except for the whitecaps in the anchorage, we should have been able to see the anchor 100 feet away on the bottom.

Sunrise, stunning against the fort. It is a wonder why someone would have picked this place to defend. No water on the tiny island, and no other resources either. Everything you wanted had to be brought in, and eventually taken out. Enemy ships of long ago simply avoided this place once it was built so they made a prison out of it.

We explored the fort and really enjoyed the history lesson. Looking at the millions of bricks… each one hand made, shipped over, carried in and placed. One by one. Wow.

The mortar holding the bricks in place was made from the local sand, and not holding very well. The fort is literally falling apart, and under constant restoration.

Welcome to Fort Jefferson, the Dry Tortugas

Out to the west is a small island called Loggerhead Key. It has a light house and several small buildings on it. The lighthouse is now computer controlled with solar and the buildings unoccupied. Earlier photos show lots of trees.

All the trees, sans a few palms by the lighthouse, were erased by the last hurricane that went through here leaving this a deserted island.

We arrived by dinghy on the one day it did calm to less than 15 knots of wind. I believe it went down to 14 knots for three hours. While taking the dink to the calm side of the island I thought about bringing the AbbyGale over here and conducting an invasion of the island with one of my many Coast Guard inspected flare guns.

Taking over, and renaming the island I would immediately form my own government and declare independence from the US. Any attempt to remove me would be an act of war at which point I would immediately surrender and demand reparations.

Loggerhead Key, my new island home... (pre invasion)

Anyhow, we found a rather beautiful reef on the outside of the island. We jumped overboard and we floated along with the dink. I can’t really describe what we saw, and how pretty it was, so just enjoy the photos. Think warm tropical breezes when viewing…

Back on the rolling boat at anchor we met our new friends Barry and Dave.

They sailed down from the west coast of Florida and experienced the same kind of weather. Dave spent all of his spare time fishing from the boat. He would catch a small fish and then just wait a minute. His pole would double over and the reel would smoke.

Turns out they had unofficially adopted a 300 pound Goliath Grouper who called the bottom of his boat home. We pulled up in our dinghy and met the Grouper. He was about the size of the dink, at 9’6” and outweighed us by a couple of hundred pounds. He stayed just out of reach lurking in the shadow of ‘As You Wish’, Berry and Dave’s boat.

When we left a day or so later the grouper was still affixed to his feeding station at Berry and Dave’s boat.

Early in the morning we saw an inflatable approach the fort. It was a green rigid inflatable with a 40hp outboard. The vessel contained 7 Cuban refugees who had just made a night crossing. The fort’s law enforcement team took custody of the new immigrants until the arrival of the U.S. Coast Guard. They were all dressed identical in the common tropical white linen pants and long sleeve shirts. They were happy to be in America and were all smiles as we waved at each other.

New arrivals to the fort.

A good size powerboat arrived in the anchorage and we met him and his wife. They were traveling the entire Caribbean. It is really nice how in an anchorage like this everyone stops by to introduce themselves and say hi. What a friendly group of folks.

So, with three whole boats in the anchorage it was time for another inspection. This time the Florida Wildlife Commission decided to stop by and inspect everyone here. (all 3 of us) When we were boarded I showed him all my papers, ID’s, Coast Guard inspection certificates and on and on… he still wanted to go below. He was a nice and polite officer who said, ‘let’s look below’ and headed down the companionway ladder with me in silent trail.

Abby, our Cockatoo, is a bit territorial and came at him with her feathers crowned up and wings poked out. This startled the officer who stepped back and lost his footing and an unseen step in the unfamiliar cockpit.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=w2iubDlMbl8

I’m glad he didn’t fall all the way over, lest the other two officers standing guard thought I started some sort of a fight with this fellow, and then the real problems begin.

I would have locked the boat guard parrot up before he headed below had he said something. I think that the training they received taught them to do the ‘surprise’ go below thing and not let the owner down there unsupervised.

All worked out well and a thorough inspection showed I was very well protected against hurting myself, maybe. Of course if my boat ever starts on fire, I seriously doubt that my inspected fire extinguishers are strong enough to put out all of my inspected safety flares… another story perhaps.

We had seen what this beautiful place had to offer while not getting much sleep and it was becoming time to move on. We would head east in the morning, pointing towards Key West.

Ahoy

www.youtube.com/watch?v=pWsjM1VDJ9U

We listened to the marine weather forecast intently before striking out into the deep blue seas of the Gulf of Mexico.

The mechanical weather lady repeated the forecast for the next 5 days promising idyllic beauty and serenity with all things nautical.

Weather perfect! Heading for the Dry Tortugas

She also spoke of a ‘Weak dry front’ crossing the Gulf moving into the lower Keys, generally the direction we were heading. That made for the light winds from the north.

We would be making an easy downwind run all night. I’d set the autopilot on Nav mode and let it guide me to the Dry Tortugas. Periodically through the night I would take independent navigation fixes and plot them on my crossing chart should the GPS fail.

You have to know where you are to know where you are going.

The sun had set and the stars were glowing brighter. They started to fade as the full moon began its ascent into the night sky. The night was very bright. Our eyes used to the lack of artificial light had fully adjusted to the night. The moon was almost too bright to look at directly. What a splendid sight.

Around 10pm the wind started to shift from its easterly direction to our stern (out of the north) and several small clouds began to block the full moon.

Here comes the weak dry front she predicted, so I re-trimmed the sails to accommodate the new winds. I settled into my station at the helm half napping while the auto pilot carried out its mission.

That lasted about an hour. The winds were steadily shifting more, coming out of the west, and building. Now at 10knots, with higher gusts.  Quickly approaching from our stern was a wall of black clouds. It was time to start bringing in canvas in preparation for what lay ahead.

Within another hour I had rolled in the jib and had the main boomed out to starboard. The sail was almost flat against the spreaders which allowed us to heel slightly while making 7 knots. We were zooming along. The winds were up to 15 knots now. Any more and we would reef the main and reset.

Hey... where did the clear skies go?

Looking at 2am now… my idyllic crossing had been replaced with 15-20 knots of wind out of the west northwest, seas 6-8 feet off our port quarter. Clouds blocking all but a glow from the full moon. We were rocking and rolling now.

The main helped keep us steady against the winds so the roll was not too terrible. Sliding down the back side of the waves was a grand adventure in itself. The Admiral gave me a very weary eye around 3am. I told her that people pay good money at theme parks for this kind of ‘splash mountain’ ride.

Without humor I got ‘the look’.

“Hey,” I said. “I promised you a night crossing you would never forget didn’t I?”

Again with ‘the look.’

I recall begging and pleading for the Admiral to take the helm so I could go below and use the head. She was a real sport about all this, I have to admit.

An hour or so before sunup we believe we finally have the ‘red sky at night, sailor’s delight’ saying figured out.

It actually has nothing to do with the weather. Back in the 1600’s along the east coast of the now United States, sailors would land on these distant shores, the Americas, where they would be greeted by the Indian maiden, Red Sky.

We took some rollers that rearranged our boat. Some better, some not. I have a generator under the companion way ladder that broke free and rolled upside-down in the passageway on the starboard side. I was able to get to it before it leaked gasoline all over the place.

Here comes more rain

I glanced over and marveled at the now empty book shelve on the port side. I’ve been meaning to clean that out for a while now.

Just another hour or so to sunrise we kept telling ourselves. Everything would look better in the daylight.

Did you know that the military has big huge rather massive large steel towers planted randomly out in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico? We managed to avoid three of them.

Then there were the shrimp boats… Lit up from stem to stern. They start like a glowing white dot in the rain soaked horizon making you wonder what they are. By the time they are only a mile or two in front of you they become this massive beast of steel illuminating the surrounding waters. It looked like something out of an alien attacks earth movie.

I tried calling on the radio to get a course from them. Nobody would answer any of my calls. It is impossible to tell which way they are going as they are a large glowing ball of lights coming in your general direction. The navigation lights are washed out in the rain and work lights.

One boat seems to track directly at us, nothing I was doing was working in my efforts to escape this creature. I was sure we would get swallowed in his nets as we finally slipped by, unseen.

Normally the Admiral takes a photo of everything. Not this time. She was busy hanging on and working hard as a look-out. My youngest grandson, Kody, would have been proud. (Grandma was a great lookouter!)

Still, not a bad sunrise

The sun finally began to glow on the eastern horizon after a classic dark and stormy night, although darkness might have been better. For in the dark we could not have seen the water spouts. Ignorant bliss…

It worked out well for us though. The water spouts were on the north side of the Dry Tortugas, our destination. Had it not been for the daylight, we would have sailed right into it.

I turned us onto a southerly route. We would enter the atoll from the south, where there were no funnel clouds.

We checked the marine forecast on the radio again. Mostly static as we were now 100 miles from our departure point. We were however able to make out, “Seas 2 feet, east winds 5kts, buszzft… weak dry front approaching the psfftbuzzz Tortugas …  bay and inland waters a light chop.”

10am. Fort Jefferson appears over our bow as we crest the waves.

Sanctuary.

Fort Jefferson, a very welcome sight

So here it is, Wednesday somewhere around the 23rd of October I would imagine. I believe I left off with heading into Burnt Store Marina for repairs.

Anyway, we arrived there and found a neat little marina really out of the way of anything modern, excluding the towering condos. I do believe I found the secret nesting ground of the elusive Northern Snowbird. They were here in flocks. When you pull out of the nesting grounds and onto the nearest highway, it’s 10 miles to the nearest store, shop, traffic light… you get the idea.  

They have a nice little Deli there (The Water Cooler) which is where we got one of the best pressed Cuban sandwiches I’ve had in a long time. We also enjoyed some fine adult beverages at the outdoor bar, and wouldn’t you know it… WEDNESDAY night! Snowbird Karaoke night at the bar.

We docked, yep, in front of the bar. The tunes got better as the night wore on. Either because they were drinking more, or because I was. Either way it became somewhat entertaining.

We got up just before the sun crested the horizon and slipped the dock lines. (with my new depth sounder installed)

The sail across the open bay was grand. We were making 7 knots in a light chop on the water. We zipped across to the ICW (Inter Costal Waterway) and headed south passing Cabbage Key to our starboard.

Tied up at the docks

We passed the anchorage used by Pete in my novel and that brought back some neat memories. As we turned east towards Fort Myers/Sanibel we entered a stretch known as the ‘miserable mile’.

It’s a mile long piece of the waterway that is very narrow, not too deep, and shoals on both sides. Being that this Wednesday happened to be on a Saturday, or maybe it was a Sunday… it was a weekend day at any rate and everyone was out on the water.

When we turned into the miserable mile we saw this… coming right at us.

EGADS! Here they come...

Well, in the world of boating they have ‘Rules of Navigation’ which only a select few of us seem to know about. It has to do with passing, overtaking, right of way… that sort of thing. Well, none of that applies here. The only thing that matters is the old mariners rule of ‘might makes right’. Gross tonnage wins~

We, at 25 gross tons, took the middle of the fairway where we have the deeper water for our deeper draft vessel. Most of the boats were pretty expensive, and weighed less than us, so they got out of our way.

We ended up going behind Estero Island (AKA Fort Myers Beach) and found a marina directly behind a Publix supermarket.

The marina, and grocery store, had solid gold floors, silver steps, and platinum fixtures. I could think of no other reason that their prices were 30% higher than the rest of the coastline. I was hoping that I would get some kind of a discount at Snook Bight Marina as we grounded three times trying to get in. We went to one dock for gasoline for the dinghy. Had to move to another dock to get diesel fuel for the big boat, then moved to another dock, that was too shallow for us to get in, and then to another dock to spend the night.

Doc Fords bar near Sanibel

Nope, no discounts. I’m on a boat so I apparently have unlimited expenses. (this place is checked off my list for the way home)

Sunup found us eagerly slipping the dock lines and heading south once again.

We eased out into the Gulf of Mexico and trimmed sails while heading towards Marco Island (south). We seemed to get mixed up into some sort of a sailing regatta or race. I did my best to stay out of the mix, but was wholly unsuccessful.

We jumped into the line of boats going our way and it looked like we slid into 5th place. The fella behind me looked at us with shrugged shoulders and a quizzical expression. I shouted to him that I had no intention of paying an entry fee.

Six or seven miles south I’d had enough of racing and pointed out to sea. (I almost had a couple of racers follow me and that was really funny)

We joined the race...

With Naples to our rudder and fading steadily, the Admiral rigs out some trolling lines.

She dutifully watches them for the next hour to so her attention gradually waning. She heads below and begins to prepare a nice lunch and as is the custom, I shout, “FISH ON.”

A couple of quick filets later and our lunch plans change. It’s time for some blackened Spanish Mackerel. You just can’t get much fresher than this.

Holy Mackerel! It's dinner time~

The weather was perfect. 6kts of wind on a beam reach. Seas fairly calm. We decided, on a new path. We were going to head further out to sea, away from land. 110 nautical miles distant were the Dry Tortugas, calling us. What better time than now~

Fuel and water tanks full. Reefer and pantry full, fish locker overloaded.

I promised the Admiral a night crossing she would never forget. Calm seas- light winds- full moon- clear skies- 110 miles of beauty. Several dolphins came alongside blowing and whistling at us. A good sign.

The sun set across the calm ocean gently dipping below the horizon. What a truly magnificent sunset. As the old saying goes; “red sky at night, sailor’s delight”.

Little did I know what lay ahead…

Now this is a filet! (and it's only one side)

Shrimp docks behind Estero Island

Sheree saves sea shells at the sea shore

The peaceful beauty of old world Florida is something to relish. It is disappearing so quickly under pavement and towering buildings one has to wonder how much longer till…

The mornings present themselves with a beauty all their own. The birds are chasing breakfast and the Admiral is catching catfish. Well, more appropriately, snagging catfish. She has a unique ability to hook them in the eyeball, over and over again. If you happen to catch any one eyed catfish in the area, she hooked it first!

Back along the mangroves lining the east side of Cayo Costa we find a cut in the mangroves. This leads to, well… watch the video.

It was a neat little trail.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=5XOmXpQaiD8

And speaking of trails, the seagulls seem to follow us everywhere. We always have an escort in our wake. I suppose they are waiting to see what we stir up with the little outboard motor. We have certainly put a lot of time on the dinghy poking around the islands.

On the west side of Cayo Costa we found this rather nice boat washed up on shore. I don’t know what the story is, but I can see how it happened. Pulled on the beach, or washed ashore, the waves came up against the stern and filled the boat with water. The sand was soon to follow. The beach was swallowing this boat pretty quickly. It had not been here but a few days. The engine and prop were in great shape, and someone had already removed the electronics. No telling what was in the lockers buried under the sand.

Free boat to good home

I’m sure it is an interesting story, one I’ll never discover though.

Chasing crab, enjoying a cocktail, watching the sun go up and back down… yep, this is what it is all about.

Under duress, we have to leave to get some supplies and conduct repairs. I’m not sure where we are going next, but I would really like a working depth sounder. The cruising guides say that I can dock and make repairs at the Burnt Store Marina. Being only ten miles across the bay, I believe that is where we are heading.

Stop in and say hello if you are in the area.

Ahoy~

Woops~

The rest of the boat is under here somewhere

This guy owns the island, a Gopher Tortise

Seagull Patrol

Sunrise, my daily view

I climb into the dinghy and row away from my boat. I’ll not be using the outboard this morning so as not to disturb the absolute tranquility of the anchorage. The only sounds now are of the awakening wildlife beginning to hunt breakfast.

Last night was spectacular. We are far enough away from the bright lights of civilization that we can see the Milky Way at night. We watch the skyies for an hour after sunset and see the illuminated satellites speeding across the heavens.

When you don’t bother to turn on a television for a couple of weeks life gets simpler. This morning we listened to the marine radio weather broadcast for about ten minutes and hear of a hurricane forming near Cozumel. We will get a bit of wind this coming weekend, which will be in~ what is today?

Dinner, Fresh Flounder, Blue Crab and Cajun rice

Listening to the marine forecast, the computer voice simply states ‘Today will be…’ and gives the conditions. Shortly after today’s weather report it jumps to ‘Thursday will be…’ Now I have to do some serious math. Knowing Thursday is in two days, that means, if I subtract two days, then today must be Tuesday. Whew, worn out. Must take nap…

Sunsets are just as wonderful. A nice cocktail while sitting in the comfort of the center cockpit and watching the sky change colors. What could compare to that?

It’s very late. The sun has been down a while now and probably time for bed. We go below and see it’s just after 9:00 o’clock. What the hell, go to bed anyhow. It is easy to be awake for the sunrise when you get a full night, and very restful, sleep.

One of the places we visited in the dinghy was Cabbage Key. The most recent bit of history here is the song ‘Cheeseburger in Paradise’ by an all time great singer.

Pulling into Cabbage Key, ahhhhhhhhh

We park the dinghy at the dock and walk up the hill to the restaurant. We choose to sit outside and take in the stunning view of the waterway while eating, you guessed it, burgers.

We tour the inside of the restaurant where the bar is covered in $1 bills. Every square inch of the walls is plastered with money. This is something you need to see for yourself one day.

We climbed the historic water tower, and walked the trail around the island. Back to the dinghy and the task of fishing…

What a sweet life.

This is truly paradise. I find myself reflecting with a bit of sadness over some of my friends, who can’t ever make it here. For one reason or another, the airplane/helicopter crashes, getting killed in the line of duty, the daily stress of life…

I’ll toast tonight’s sunset cocktail to you my friends.

Ahoy~

Lunch time viewing, what a sight...

Money money everywhere... The bar

The Cabbage Key water tower. Great view from up there as well

Ahoy my friends, more to follow!

The sun rises and presents a breathtaking morning. The dolphins are in full feeding mode next to the boat.

Breaking tradition I started the engine up at our anchorage in Longboat Key. I always let the Admiral start the engine. It’s one of the stupid little things that had developed during our boat ownership. The ritual seemed to help us have a safer voyage for some unknown reason. I don’t question what works… just go along with it.

Morning coffee

Well, for some stupid reason I started the engine. The sun was up, the tide was coming in and the weather perfect. All we had to do was pull out of the anchorage and exit the drawbridge, entering the Gulf, and be on our way south.

The Admiral at the helm, me at the anchor chain on the bow. I start pulling up chain with the winch and it begins to hang on every third link or so. With the strong gusts the past couple of days the anchor was really dug in. The normally 2 minute task turned into 15-20 minutes. (and flat wore me out) Get several links onboard, un-stick them, grind in some more… un-stick, over and over for the next 40 feet or so.

We finally get the anchor up, which at this point is a rather large ball of mud concealing a danforth. I’ll clean it later.

I jump back on the helm and call the bridge as it’s just a few hundred yards away.

Following the clearly marked channel on the GPS chartplotter we enter the marked channel, which is not lining up with the day-markers showing the present channel. As I go aground in the muck I figure out the chart plotter is probably wrong.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=fcTZ6sLe0-Y

The bridge is calling me to tell me I’m aground (thanks, didn’t notice it myself) because he can see a large plume of muck being pushed up by the full throttle I’m using to get nowhere. I start working the rudder back and forth and fish-tail this big boats nose into a 2kt incoming current. It’s just enough to start me moving back into the channel. The bridge tender is warning me to hurry or he will have to close the bridge. (he was a nice guy, thanks for understanding)

One or two more soft bumps along the bottom and we speed towards the open bridge. Everyone in cars waiting on me was probably going to work anyhow, so I was actually doing them a favor…

Sails up!

We hoisted the sails and then had one great sail southbound. The seas were relatively calm with just enough wind to move us along smartly. Out go the fishing poles. We will troll a couple of big spoons way out behind us.

We managed to boat one ‘Little Tuna’ while sailing along. It was worth interrupting one of my many daily naps.

As we were entering Charlotte Harbor the depth sounder quit working… just when we really needed it.

Great. Probably shouldn’t expect things to break at the dock, at the end of a voyage…

Now I don’t have any depth readings. Everything will have to be off of the chart plotter (which I no longer believe in) or back to the paper charts, which don’t show current shoaling.

All the hurricanes a few years back changed the bottom and they have not reflected the changes on some of the charts. It’s something hard to keep up with anyhow as it is always changing.

Tuna-licious!

We began entering Pelican Bay which has a very narrow unmarked channel of 6-7’. I need 5.5’ The plan is simple. Go slow, feel the bumps, back up, try again another direction.

I have the trusty paper charts which show only 5 feet… I was relieved to see other boats in the bay my size. If they could fit in… we could fit in. (which we did)

We get anchored for the evening and cook the fish. The Admiral blackens the tuna, and boy was it great. A couple of evening cocktails as the sun sets and there we are, out of time once again. And I’ve still got so much to do…

I had to stop fishing to write this blog~ perhaps in a day or two I’ll get to work on Chapter 6. We won’t be going anyplace for a few days, and when we do, the Admiral will start the engine.

Ahoy

www.youtube.com/watch?v=mq3Yv3U83ac

The temps are beginning to slide down into the high 60’s at night. The low 80’s in the day. Winds are out of the north, and the Gulf is reasonably calm with 2’ seas.

We have an official float plan. Exit our marina and enter the Gulf via the drawbridge known as structure ‘C’. Once in the Gulf, turn left. We shall head south and see what happens.

Setting sails in the Gulf, heading offshore

Prior to departing I gave a quick check of the safety gear and found that our signal flares and shotgun shells were out of date by 2 months. After topping the water tanks it was a quick trip to the marine store to get back in compliance. I needed 3 night signal flares, one day orange smoke, and four shogun flares. Everything else was good.

We have a registered EPIRB on board that will send a GPS signal to the satellites should we ever have a real emergency, but the flares were still required, so spend the money we shall.

The sheer marketing genius of the guy that sells the flares probably got him some great promotion and a free house in the Caribbean. He probably got the idea from the guy that decided to make a pack of ten hot dogs to go with a pack of four buns… so not really original.

You can only buy packs of four day/night flares. You may only need one, but because they want you to be extra safe, you must buy the four pack. This means that as they expire every 3 years, you have to buy double everything and add to the collection.

One day we are going to have a hell of a Fourth of July celebration.

We head out and turn left. It looks like we are starting to follow the path Pete took in my book. Our plan is formulating, lets follow his path~

So, south we go. It looks like we are heading towards Pine Island.

Spoonbilll feeding near our anchorage at low tide

The weather is absolutely beautiful several miles out in the Gulf. Out course is set and the auto pilot has freed me to handle important Captain tasks… like a nap at sea.

In the first several hours we passed thirty or so dolphins, hundreds of jellyfish, several schools of stingrays, and lost one rather large fish on the end of a line.

The Admiral had a trolling rig out behind the boat and was herself doing important Admiral chores, which included taking a nap as well.

Something made us look up, probably the noise of all the fishing line being stripped away from the spool. The Admiral grabbed the pole as I started to slow the boat down. The line reached it end and sounded like a firecracker as the knot at the end of the line popped off the reel. We watched a couple of large splashes way astern of the boat, about where some rather large fish escaped the frying pan.

Anchored north of the drawbridge

The first night finds us anchored in a little hole on the north side of Longboat Pass at Longboat Key. The anchorage is calm, albeit a bit windy, from the north. We are protected as we anchored against the mangroves in 10 feet of water.

Today we will launch the dinghy and do some exploring.

Ahoy~

I was working on my boat, doing the usual chores when summer vacation happened. I had to take the family to one of the overpriced theme parks that, sans the mouse hat, nobody will remember in six months. BTW, it cost a whole boat dollar just to get in! The entire time I’m walking around the park I’m envisioning my new bilge pump, new LED lights, and a new stereo system vanish faster then my tourist dollars at the gift shop.

Anyhow, when I got back to the boat at the beginning of the school season I found several parts on the galley counter. There was a small 12v electrical switch, two screws, a rubber O-ring, and a small tube of glue. The screws appear to be used, as is the switch.

I’ve turned on everything in the galley, all the lights and fans work. Everything seems to be in place and in working order.

Would you have any idea where these parts might go?

Thanks again,

Capt. Ted L. Surge

s/v Floats-a- lot

Dear Capt. Ted,

I too have been in your position, countless times as my boat and I grow older together. Most recently I found a couple of stainless steel bolts, lock washers, and a small roll pin on my work bench after a long absence. I too began a search for the purpose of the parts.

The difference with me was that I started to find more stuff that needing fixing while checking systems. The problem was, that what needed to be fixed, didn’t fit the parts I had on hand. This caused me to have to go back to the parts stores and nautical flea markets to buy more parts.

What often happens is that I frequently buy more parts than necessary, as you never know when you will need the extra parts. It is always possible that sometimes I forget to put the new spares away and they are simply unstocked fresh inventory lying on the workspace.

One of the things I did to combat this particular problem is to tag, tape, or somehow leave myself clues to where it goes or what the part does. I did this with a very specific small bent metal object. I taped it to the navigation panel on the starboard side. This way it would not get lost as it was very important, and needed to be replaced. 

This was about 4 years ago. I simply can’t bring myself to taking it down for I’m sure once I throw it away, I’ll remember what it was for and immediately need another one. Besides, I think the tape has fused to the panel and I’m kind of used to looking at it. We are old friends now.

My spare parts bin has morphed into several sections with jars, cans, and Tupperware full of curiosities that will one day come in quite handy. It is quite an assortment of odds and ends.

Their is one thing I would like to suggest that you could do with the switch, O-ring, and some small ball bearings if you have them on hand…

Every marina usually has a really nice power boat with a flybridge full of expensive electronics and technical parts. Toss the parts up onto the deck of the flybridge so they land near the helm.

The next time the owner shows up, grab a couple of your friends, some cold beer, and a couple of deck chairs. The show can become quite entertaining.

Ahoy,

Capt. Bilgeplug

Anybody need some Perkins 4-108 spare parts?

BTW:

The word BOAT is an acronym derived from~

Break Out Another Thousand, hence the word boat which = boat dollar, a common phrase among boaters.

Yarr- which is not to be confused with ‘Yarrg,’  -or- just what the hell is A Hoy anyhow? A Vast is something the Grog was in, at least that’s what we figured last night.

Take a bunch of serous minded adults, give them a reason to dress up like pirates and let the festivities begin! First off me matey, thanks to Bill and Earline for hosting this event once again. The docks of Land’s End Marina were again invaded by all manner of scurrvy scallawags and seadogs. Several lubbers even managed to show up!

The eight year run of dry attendees was broken last night. We had two swimmers from the docks during the festivities. It’s always been a curious thing why nobody, till this year, had taken a plunge from the planks to the briny bay before this time. Gathering anywhere between 50 and 100 people at a time on the narrow docks, sprinkle in generous amounts of Grog, and well, you can see why its difficult to understand why it took 8 years to produce a swimmer… Both folks are fine by the way, just a bit salty.

Last years award recipients picked the newest round of winners for several categories. The award was a ‘bung’ or cork like device that seals the keg of grog… yarr

“How would ye like to scrape the barnacles off me rudder?”

“No, nothings dead in the water,it’s me ye smell.”

“Shiver me timbers wench, I’m 97 percent chum free!”

“Is that a belaying pin in yer breeches or are ye…”

“Prepare to be boarded.”

All manner of pirate speak was heard by the bilge rats running loose on the planks. It was a fun time that be had by all…

Yarrg! To next year!

The cannon with 1 oz of powder, about to make a loud noise!

Picking the winners

Bilge Rats on the dock

Was Earline really giving Bill a trim???

Ahoy to my great friends and accomplished sailors!

Florida Scallops with a hitchhiker... fresh from the bay.

We arrived in Horseshoe Beach on July 1 as scheduled. The rest of our crew arrived on time and the great scalloping adventure of 2010 was about to begin. We had our three grandsons with us for the summer and showed them all the wonders of the great outdoors here in sunny Florida. They learned how to sail, catch and release sharks, beach metal detect, and now … scalloping!

Last year we were catching our daily limit within an hour or so at this spot, so we were hopeful. The first day showed us that we were going to have to work a bit harder at filling our five gallon buckets. We ended up going north of Steinhatchee where we ‘slammed’ them. Everyone was limited out in under an hour, no oil either.

Before you head out make sure you know what YOUR daily limit is. Check with the FWC website for the official rules and regulations as they change by the number of people you are scalloping with. The maximum daily limit per boat is 10 gallons of whole scallops, regardless of the size of your crew. Check the per person regulation, too. The youngest grandson, who just turned 5, counted towards the daily limit the same as the adults.

We noticed fewer scallops in this area. I’m not sure if they migrated to someplace different this year or if the early season opening depleted the stocks already, but we were working hard to get our limit.

Teaching my youngest grandson how to 'look' for scallops

If you have never been scalloping before, it’s very easy. Just snorkel along and pick up the tasty little critters as you spot them. It may take a bit to develop an eye for them, but you will quickly get the hang of it.

Sometimes the white part of the shell is turned upwards which makes them really easy to see. Generally though, the darker side is up and it matches the grass beds very nicely. With the sun shining into the water, you can sometimes see their sparkling blue eyes along the entire opening of the bi-half shell as they are filtering water.

As you approach they will generally snap shut and remain still. This makes them easy prey. Sometimes you get a swimmer and they are fun to catch. They rapidly open and close the halves of their shell which propels them through the water in an attempt to escape, usually with out success. I’ve seen them swimming along and I’ll hold open my collection bag and let them swim right in. Volunteers, you got to love them.

Watch out for the OUCH! Scallops can snap shut on your fingertips and they really pinch. If you’re picking up a scallop with Attention Deficit Disorder (the one that forgot to slam his big mouth shut as you are reaching for him), grab it from behind along the hinge side. It will keep you from getting pinched.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=7pU6L_BCwjw

Some folks I know are going scalloping for the first time and have requested a detailed explanation of this fun event. So then, here it is.

BASIC ITEMS NEEDED

A good mask and snorkel. Essential. You will have your face stuck in the water most of the time. The snorkel really makes breathing underwater much easier. When you get your mask home, wet the inside lens in the sink. Take some toothpaste, just a tad, and use the tip of your wet finger to very gently clean the inside lens. Trust me on this … it will really make a difference. Rinse the mask well. If you have some anti-fog drops (recommended), apply as directed before swimming. The drops can be obtained where you got the mask or at any dive shop. Don’t forget to dip your mask in the salt water to give it one last rinse before putting it on your head.

If this is all I got, I'm gunna starve here!

Being able to clearly see the scallops is the key to success. A poorly fitting mask, or one that fogs up constantly, makes for a less fun day. Hint: To find a properly fitting mask, stick it on your face without the strap on the back of your head. If the suction created by the mask holds it in place for a few seconds after you let it go … it fits. Then go for a nice stylish look.

I do suggest going to a dive shop or expedition outfitter type store for the mask and snorkel. Discount stores sell discount merchandise. It won’t fit or last. The professional stores have qualified sales people to help you with your selection.

Fins. Necessary. Quality fins will last years and years. I have a set of Rocket fins that still work well. I’ve owned them for over 20 years now. I highly recommend some sort of bootie or wet sock to wear with your fins. This will prevent chafing and the occasional blister.

Dive Flag: Required by law. The dive flag is red with a diagonal white stripe and must be flown when you are in the water. You are required to remain within 300 feet of the flag. Flags are available at all dive shops.

Collection bag: Necessary. This can be any kind of mesh type bag that will hold your catch.

Five gallon bucket(s): Necessary. You need some place to put all your scallops as you collect them, and the bucket gives you a good gauge of your catch to keep you within legal limits. The scallops NEED some place to chill out (in salt water) until such time as the cleaning process begins.

Scallop knife: Necessary (maybe). It all depends on how you like to clean scallops. Some folks use a spoon, I like the knife. You can buy these at the dive shops as well. They are not particularly sharp and only three inches long. The tip of the knife is curved to fit the inside of the top half of the shell. This is important when cleaning scallops.

Ice cold frosty adult beverage: Necessary, for our crew anyhow. Got to keep hydrated!

Scallop parts, double click for large view

CLEANING SCALLOPS

We generally set up an assembly line for cleaning. This consists of one person splitting the shell open with the scallop knife. You hold the scallop, white shell down, in the palm of your left hand (reverse this for southpaws). Put the back, or hinge part of the scallop facing your fingertips and the bivalve opening of the hinge towards your wrist. The goal here is to use the curved portion of the blade to scrape the upper inside of the shell. This cuts the muscle and membrane free from the top (dark) half of the shell . Peel this half of the shell away. Save the shells if you are crafty … they make lots of neat things.

The next person cleans out the guts (kids love doing this part). Use a spoon or the curved edge of a scallop knife to scrape out the membrane. Practice makes perfect here. The only thing remaining in the lower half of the shell when you are done should be the white muscle. The last person cuts the meat from the remaining bottom shell. This is the easiest job.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=76D5w2Qzcag

Store your scallops in salt water in a good zip lock type freezer bag. A good fresh water rinse before cooking is all you will need after you thaw them out.

Lined up for cleaning..... yummmm

So there you have it … go out and enjoy some of nature’s bounty. Just don’t forget the sunscreen.

The link below has  more detailed information about cleaning, with photos!

http://www.southerncrosses.com/2009/07/15/florida-bay-scallops-the-how-to-guide/

By the way… have you read my novel yet?