I’ve sent the below letter to my representatives, Senator Dennis L. Jones (R) and Representative Rick Kriseman (D).

You can easily find your elected lawmakers at : My Representatives

Please feel free to copy and paste any portion, or my letter in it’s entirety. I’ve left my home address out of this post intentionally but did include it in the email.

Thanks for any support you may lend.

Representative Kriseman,

During your upcoming legislative session, I urge you to dissuade any actions in support of off shore drilling within Florida waters. Take a trip to the shorelines of southern California or the northern Gulf region states where off shore drilling is active.

The hotels provide crude oil towelett’s to remove the stains from your feet for a reason.

Do we want this for our state? Would the profits by a select few offset the losses in tourism by many? Would increased oil company profits be worth this destruction?

There is absolutely no compelling argument showing where any oil recovered from along our coast would reduce our dependence from any foreign oil-producing nation. Nor would it lower the cost of processed fossil fuels to the average consumer.

Should our state feel a need to stick something in the Gulf waters of Florida, how about a wind farm? The water is shallow enough to support this. The power cables would be routed inshore directly benefiting the residents of this state. Any oil drilled here would not.

One day perhaps, we could plug our homes and cars into this renewable clean energy source while preserving our beaches and lifestyles for generations to come.

You were elected to represent the voice of the people, this voice. I trust you will support us in this matter.

Kind Regards,

Larry Annen

Past generations left this for us, is this the way we want to leave our beaches for our future?

Los Angeles California, tar stained feet circa '70s

I had previously seen the Gulfport Florist shop, which is near our new home. No-no, don’t worry, we still have the boat. It is a locally owned and operated business, which I prefer to do business with. We try to avoid sterile retail chain stores whenever possible. I located their website and found the Fields of Europe arrangement. It was exactly what I was looking for so I placed an order. I wasn’t sure if the order went through as the website was acting strangely and locking up.

I had placed the order with the florist, for delivery on Valentine’s Day. The next day a gentleman called me on the contact number I had listed on the web order. As I am presently somewhere on the opposite side of the planet from Florida, the phone connection was terrible. I was not sure if he correctly confirmed the order or not.

Saturday afternoon, the day before Valentine’s Day I was contacted via phone from a delivery person. She told me nobody was home and asked what to do with the flowers. I explained that the flowers were supposed to be delivered on Valentine’s Day. Once again, the phone connection was terrible; I think she finally understood me, maybe not.

Although beautiful, they were not what was ordered.

Well, Valentine’s Day had arrived and so had the flowers. My wife sent me a picture of them, but was somewhat quizzical as these were nothing like I would normally order. They also had a balloon, which we don’t particularly care for. The arrangement, although well put together, were atypical of our tastes. I sent her the picture of what I had ordered, and the arrangements were completely different.

I notified the florist of the errors via the website. The gentleman I spoke with was very helpful, friendly, and I hope forgiving, as the phone connection was sporadic. I hope he does not think I hung up on him as the connection had been unexpectedly terminated.

There were a combination of issues with this order, as sometimes is the case when placing an internet order from far off places. I have experienced these difficulties previously, so nothing new so far. All too often business don’t seem to care because in a few minutes someone else will walk through the door and buy something.

The difference this time is that my issues were dealt with professionally.

My wife finally received the order as placed a day later, and the arrangement was outstanding. The florist had also placed a nice gift with the flowers.

Now this is what I ordered!

In today’s complacent business atmosphere, I have to say that it is extremely refreshing to find a business that takes pride in maintaining professional customer service. Errors sometimes happen, this is life after all… it’s how the problems are dealt with that makes the difference.

I don’t believe I need to look any further for a florist. If you’re in the area, they come highly recommended!

Thanks, we will be conducting business for years to come.

And on a side note: The sailing blog stories have been a little thin lately.

My apologies.

I’m off gallivanting around the world on business and I hope to be home shortly. We shall cut some dock lines and set sail. Adventures are forthcoming! Oh yeah, I also became a member of the Boca Ciega Yacht Club. I’ve got to find me one of them Thurston Howell III outfits… And Sheree some Mary Ann shorts~

Gulfport Florist

www.gulfportflowershop.com

1410 58th Street North

Gulfport, FL 33707

(727) 328-1917

Xanadu, Panache, The Rachael, Casa Mia, Second Love, Sailacious, and Celebration made up the expedition.

Fort Jefferson, Dry Tortugas

We hop scotched down Florida’s west coast stopping at Venice, Pelican Bay, Ft. Meyers Beach and Marco Island before embarking on our overnight passage to Key West. Each of these stops along the way could be a story unto itself, but in the interest of time, we’ll leave those stories for the porch.

We arrived at daybreak in Key West after an 18 hour or so passage from Marco Island. This was my first passage of any length, and I would be lying if I didn’t say I was somewhat apprehensive about this long, overnight ordeal. Our group stayed in contact via the VHF, at most separated by 2 or 3 miles. Every hour during the night we reported in stating our condition and our position relative to the Key West marker. I was surprised how quickly the night passed. Thank God it was daylight as we entered the Key West channel. I say this because looking at the lights marking the channels, shoals, etc. approaching Key West, it was the most confusing set of visual aids I had ever seen. Being a 30-year, multiengine instrument pilot, licensed to fly in zero visibility, navigating by instruments is something that comes easy to me. However, having little or no sleep while lining up the paper charts, with the plotter, watching your depth meter for conformation, and coordinating all this with what you visually see which was a myriad of lights blinking and flashing in every direction, I can only say that whoever the guy was who sold Key West the hundreds of lights marking the waterways must have made a lot of money.

Most of us stayed at the Conch Harbor Marina for Thursday and Friday and we departed Saturday morning. Conch Harbor is a Latin phrase meaning “over priced”. However, it was one of the nicest marina’s I’ve been to. Great pool, good food and drinks, showers, laundry…all the amenities. Bill Casey and his crew aboard Second Love had some mechanical difficulties and anchored out. So, we didn’t see Bill or his crew very much until we were on our way back days later. But the rest of us did our thing in Key West. We were a short walk to Duval Street where as they say, “the action is.” We also made a pilgrimage to Mallory Square at sundown to watch and toast the sundown and enjoy the circus like atmosphere that is so Key West. Restaurants, bars, streets, music, lifestyles, it is so different but so neat to see. We decided to rent a motor scooter which made getting around Key West very easy.

Before we knew it Saturday morning had come. Panache left the dock begrudgingly around 6:30 am. Coffee was hot, weather was good, wind was wrong, sun at our backs and the big W on the compass told us go west young man, go west. So west we went. We passed the Marquesas, a string of uninhabited islands 25 miles or so west of Key West. Then, hours and hours of hours and hours, until finally, late in the day Fort Jefferson started rising above the horizon. We had made it. We were still alive. One by one, all of the remaining BCYC boats entered the crystal clear waters of the anchorage abutting Fort Jefferson, dropped our hooks, and settled in. I had never been there before. What a sight. A fortress, in the middle of nowhere. I wanted to drop my dingy in the water and rush over to get a first hand up close look at this thing. But first, there was relaxing to do, wine to open, and a cigar was calling my name. There would be plenty of time to explore. It was only Saturday, and we weren’t leaving until Tuesday afternoon. On the other hand, a quick trip to shore would be nice. We could walk and get some exercise, see and touch Fort Jefferson up close, plus check out the scene in general. We dropped the dingy and headed through the crowded anchorage. We eased through the gin clear water and up on the beach. We had landed at Fort Jefferson. Our feet were on solid ground. The highlight of this first, short, shore expedition was discovering where the visitor’s center was. It had a lot of interesting stuff, but the best part about it, it was air-conditioned. Over the next few days we would visit that air-conditioned center a lot. I personally watched their orientation movie 12 times.

A little later, back on the boat, wine was flowing and cigars were glowing. A big dinner of pan fried pork chops, grilled onions, real mashed potatoes, and salad was devoured with all the gusto of a pack of hound dogs. Panache’s water tanks were full so hot showers were in order. I crawled in my bunk thinking I might read but fell asleep way too fast for that.

Sunday & Monday at Fort Jefferson

The crowded anchorage got less crowded as a few non-BCYC boats departed Sunday. We had 6 BCYC boats and I’m guessing there was probably another 10 or so in the anchorage with us. Like any cruise, we had a lot of comradery going on between club boats, and in doing so, we managed to make friends with other boats as well. One boat in particular, from Cortez, had a father/son on board who lived to fish. We had some killer pot luck dinners onshore that went on late into the night. We invited the father/son team, Mike & Mike Jr., to our pot luck. That day, they caught a yellowfin tuna that they lightly seared and brought to the potluck providing all 6 boats with all the delicious sushi we could eat. While we were there, Mike & Mike Jr. would come by Panache once or twice a day offering us fresh snapper, yellowtail, and grouper.

All this fresh fish got us excited, so Guy O’Conner, our marvelous trip leader, and I jumped in my dingy and went on a fishing expedition. We caught nothing, zip, nada in the way of fish. Guy managed to “fish” a baby bird out of the water who had somehow managed to fall into the sea. Unfortunately, the little bird didn’t make it but it wasn’t for lack of effort on Guy’s part. For those of you who don’t know Guy O’Connor, he is one terrific person. He’s honest and kind, dedicated and knowledgeable, considerate, loyal and just such a good man. He did such a good job in planning and leading this trip.

Later that day our BCYC group had fun snorkeling and saw some awesome sights including some pretty big fish. I think that almost everyone in our group took advantage of the wonderful snorkeling opportunities surrounding Fort Jefferson.

I’ve got to write a little bit about the birds, as they were a complete surprise to me. As it turns out, our anchorage was bordered to the west by Garden Key which houses Fort Jefferson. Bush Key borders it to the north, which house about 100,000 birds. These are not the normal run of the mill seabirds we are used to seeing. These birds, about 4 different varieties, come from as far away as Africa to nest on this one particular island in the Dry Tortugas. For some of the species, it’s the only spot on earth where they do so. I guess it’s a bird watching paradise for some and interesting to all of us. Now these birds make a lot of noise…day and night. I thought birds roosted at night and went to sleep. Honestly, the noise of the birds was no match for comfort and serenity of our bunks, and sleep came easily.

Tuesday morning was approaching. Some of us were leaving early morning and heading for Ft. Meyers Beach, the rest of us were leaving early afternoon and heading for Marco Island. Everyone had a safe passage and rested well Wednesday night. Thursday night we all wound up in the Cayo Costa area and we reunited with Bill Casey and his crew aboard Second Love. This crew was unable to get to the Tortugas due to mechanical problems, but they made lemonade out of lemons and had a great time in and around Key West. Friday night was spent in Venice where about 2 weeks earlier we had spent our first night. Then Saturday afternoon, our little fleet from BCYC passed through structure C and into the home waters of Boca Ciega Bay.

Many thanks to Guy O’Conner and Cathy Tallisman, our cruise directors, who put together a simply marvelous cruise. Well planned from beginning to end. Panache, along with Casa Mia, Sailacious and Celebration were first timers on this cruise. Xanadu and The Rachael both had made the trip and crossings before and were veterans. I also have to give thanks to Dave Brangaccio aboard Xanadu for coming to our aid on more than one occasion with his mechanical expertise. Looking back, I learned a lot about myself and a lot about my boat and was surprised how enjoyable the long crossings were. I envisioned being on pins and needles while 60 or 70 miles offshore. That wasn’t the case. Of course it helped that the weather was good and other boats were close by.

This may have been the best adventure of my life…so far! Thanks BCYC.

Written by Jeff Reckson, Fleet Captain BCYC.

(reprinted with permission)  Photos stolen from Wikipedia and added for dramatic effect 

Wasting an entire day is truly becoming an art form for me.  It’s not for everybody.  My standards of a normal day have changed over the years.  

So you ask, just what is normal?  Well… this day it was being totally worthless at being a productive human being.  I was previously a success at fixing the wind generator a couple of days ago, so today will be different.  The much delayed part from ‘eMarine Systems’ had finally arrived, the fix was easy.  I simply had to have the correct part.  I’d fixed a few other things as well, but that will be in a later blog entry.  This one is about being worthless on a sailboat…

The sun rises to an empty schedule.  Nothing on the calendar but the day and date.  Were it not for the miracle of the personal computer, I would not even know that much information most of the time.  But, since I’m part of the modern electronic world, allow me to share the day’s events.

Watch the sunrise. Drink coffee.

Yep, that about sums it up.  Next thing you know it’s around noon.  We are anchored off the beach in Gulfport Florida, one of my favorite places on the west coast.  The anchor is holding very well, the bay is reasonably calm, and the pace is slow.

We decide to go for a bit of a dinghy ride and exploring a little bit.  It’s always nice to go poking about in a little rubber boat with an outboard.  There is very little work involved and if you hit something, you bounce off without too much damage.  

We find the entrance to Clam Bayou a bit east of the Gulfport Pier.  This is a piece of natural Florida that has managed to survive the urban sprawl along the waterfront. Entering the Bayou we are greeted with a wide assortment of waterfowl relaxing about as much as we are.  Fish are schooling ahead of the boat as we push deeper into the mangroves.

The water is getting shallower as we progress which is limiting our explorations.  This is a perfect place for a canoe or kayak.  One of the water trails is marked for human powered boats only, no internal combustion engines allowed.  We explore the areas that we can get to with our dinghy and enjoy the serenity once I kill the engine.  If you own a kayak, this trail is just what you are looking for.

Entering Boca Ciega bay once again as we continue around the bay back into civilization.  The weather appears like it will be changing in the next day or so.  High clouds are forming some impressive overhead scenes which is usually a sign of another front on the way.  

So we head back to the boat in time to enjoy the evening activities.

Watch the sunset. Enjoy a cocktail.

Yeah, life on a boat…

Links you might enjoy:

http://www.dep.state.fl.us/coastal/sites/bocaciega-pinellas/

http://www.stpete.org/parks/clambayou.asp

N 27 44.5 W 82 41.4

The Gulfport Pier is on the lower left, with Clam Bayou being the nice green area. Click on the picture for a little closer view.

For those of you not old enough to remember, we used to have something called “Customer Service.” This was a grand thing. You would walk into a store and pay money, thus walking out of the store with your item. If it didn’t work when you got home and tried to use it, you would simply take it back to the store.

The person standing at the store would exchange it for one that did work, or make some arrangement with you to ensure that you became a ‘happy customer.’

This procedure was done so you would tell all your friends and they would tell their friends and everyone would want to shop in your store. The next thing you know there you are, a major force on the stock market making a zillion dollars with a helicopter on a mega-yacht.

Today is apparently much different. I have the magic of the Internet, heck, I’m using that magic right now.

The set up: There we were, sitting at anchor 2 am, sound asleep in the aft cabin gently rocking with the slow rhythmical ripples in the bay.

When you live on a boat your senses get tuned into it pretty quickly. A different odor (like a melting circuit breaker) or the way the boat rocks will wake you up. This time it was the shifting of the boat with the waves. I could feel the difference as we came around the anchor chain. I also could hear the wind generator winding up. You can pretty accurately guess the wind speed by the pitch of the generator.

Living on shore has several advantages. One of them is that when you go to bed at night, you can be fairly certain that your house will be in the same spot when you wake up.

Sailing is different. I have been suddenly awakened in the wee hours to discover that we were not in the same place. This is a process called ‘dragging the anchor’, which can have catastrophic results.

Anyhow, when you hear an increasing wind and feel it shifting your anchoring position, it gives you cause to wander the weather decks up top. This task has you wearing whatever you happen to be wearing, or not, to check the anchor.

Taking time to get properly attired is directly proportionate to where you are anchored. In a brightly lit anchorage with lots of other boats around you, well I probably want to layer clothing so as not to terrify anyone who may be up checking their anchor as well.

Lonely anchorages, well, you get the idea.

The wind had shifted and we were resting a bit differently on the hook. It’s time to wander the decks and check that we are secured as the goal is to wake up in generally the same spot we went to sleep in.

As I passed my new solar panel charge controller installation that I’m so darn proud of, I notice a slight problem. I’m low on battery power. Strange… with the wind up and having had the sun exchange rays for electrons all day, my battery bank should be much higher.

The wind generator should be making surplus power at this point as the only thing running is the 12 volt reefer.

You know you are a boater when…

It’s 3am and I’m lying on the cabin sole (the floor) with the aft hatch to the engine room propped open. My head is buried into the engine compartment with my unpleasant side protruding in awkward positions holding me in place as the boat rocks at anchor.

Like a surgeon I simply reach behind me and say, “Alligator clips,” as they get slapped into my hand by my able assistant and ship’s Admiral.

“Multi-meter,” I request.

“Long Phillip’s head screw driver,” was next on the list.

“Knife,” is requested to cut open the wire insulation.

“Band-aid.” (self explanatory)

Hummm… the wind generator is producing 12.9 volts going into the charge controller, but nothing is going out. I suspect that the charge controller is not doing its job having passed away sometime after I installed the solar panel.

That is life on a boat. Here we are at the famous juncture of, ‘if it’s not one thing’ then this must be, ‘the other.’

Secure in the knowledge that the anchor is firmly holding we head back to bed. The sun will be up in a few hours and we will once again convert solar energy into battery voltage.

The morning cup of coffee is enjoyed while ordering the necessary part, hence the eMarine reference. I check the calendar and after giving it some thought, I choose the 3-day shipping option, and electronically pay for it. Fast as lightning, they have my money. I figure that if I give it 3-5 days from ordering, I should be in the same place as the part when it arrives after a 50 or so mile drive to get there. We will go ashore for a couple of days and take care of other business as well. So ends day 1.

Day 4. We are sitting ashore anxiously waiting for the part. As soon as it arrives we can return to the boat, effect the repair, and continue on our journey. The part should be here any minute now.

In place of the part (on day4) I received the following email:

Hi!

We received your order for a HRSi Controller.

We are currently out of town at the Annapolis Boat Show.

We can ship that out to you as soon as we get back. (Middle of next week)Sorry for the delays -

Jeremy

Dang it… I didn’t see anything on the webpage about delays in orders. Looking at the calendar it would appear that my part will get shipped sometime around 7-8 days after ordering. The webpage has a scrolling banner on it about the Annapolis Boat Show, but NOTHING about any shipping delays. Adding in 3 more days of travel time– and my original 3 day select shipping order turns into 11+ days. I’ve already paid with PayPal, so canceling the order and restarting is way too time consuming at this point. Let’s hope for a speedy arrival of the part.

Now I have to figure out where I might be when they decide to actually send my part.

Day 6. I hear from the company again after sending another email to them asking if they would overnight it when they ship it, or still send it via the 3-day route, here is the reply;

Middle of the week, so it should ship out Wednesday or Thursday. Let us know the address you would like this shipped to -

Jeremy

We work on the schedule and make necessary adjustments to try to get us in the same place as the part on the same day. The calendar shows Jeremy’s estimate of the middle of next week as day 9. I send the address of a municipal marina on the west coast of Florida and we start traveling again.

Day 9. I send them the address of the marina and get this reply;

Ok Larry. We will ship it to your new address. I just got back in the office, so that will go out tomorrow, and you should be able to receive Friday. Tracking will be sent to your e-mail.

Jeremy

Day 11. No part, no tracking number. I send the following email;

Good morning,

It’s Friday. I’ve not received a tracking number. Has the part been sent yet? (It was supposed to have arrived again today)

I receive the following;

Its shipping out today. tracking will be sent by e-mail from UPS once it ships.

My reply;

So I understand I’ll not receive it on Friday (today) as you advised.

Great.

Apparently I’ve offended Jeremy with my comments as his next email states;

Look – I’ve tried to work with you. I just got back into town with hundreds of things to do and demands from several customers over the past two weeks. Unfortunately you need a controller, and are not at a stationary location which is your problem. I am trying to accomodate to your needs and I am doing everything I can to catch up. Your 1 controller going out today is a part of catching up. Todays shipments are the first going out since returning. Tracking # will be sent to you, which you should receive the controller Monday.

I’m looking forward to receiving the controller on day 14 or 15. It would also appear that our moving about is my problem, which it is and I’m not sure how, a factor in actually shipping the part out. I’ve been enlightened to discover that it is actually I who is being less than accommodating in this transaction. It also appears that there are additional customers with ‘demands.’

When a company takes care of nickels and dimes, dollars will surely follow.

Okay then, we are back to traveling and changing plans. I suppose that I’ll just have to settle back with a refreshing beverage while I continue to wait for my part. I’ll spend this time contemplating on why eMarine kept my payment for the 3 day shipping and wonder at the logic of how poorly they treated my nickels and dimes with a lack of customer service.

After all, I may know people with dollars…

I know, very traumatic if you are not expecting it.  You’ve been enjoying the evening and now the black cloud of depression begins to set in… but wait!  There is hope!

You spot a bunch of coconut trees on the next island just ahead.  There they are, nature’s mixers, yours for the taking.  Salvation looms just above the rum bottle.  All you have to do is open the coconut.

The finished, and ready coconut

You break out your knife and start hacking.   Twenty minutes later you grab a flat headed screwdriver.  Next comes the hammer.   Checking the width of the coconut , you determine that the vise will not open large enough to insert the now mangled and tattered coconut.  Vise grips, pliers, I’ve even tried cutting with a keyhole saw.  The hacksaw was simply too much work.  I was ordered, by the Admiral, to just put the skill saw back down or she would cut the cord.

Frustrated, you toss the coconut into the water where it makes an ungainly ‘kaploop’ as you toss it over the side, unopened, devoid of any rum flavoring.

Aha! There is hope.  Here is the step by step guide on ‘How to open a coconut’.  You shall never again be faced with having to consume your Rum Sundowner without the sweet fresh coconut just waiting for your drinking pleasure.

There are several common tools needed to accomplish this task.   Once you have managed to open a few, you will quickly become an expert and amaze all your friends with your natural survival instincts and abilities.  You could also become very popular should you get selected for the Survivor T.V. series.

If you intend to make a machete one of the tools, and plan on hacking off a once usable limb, you can stop reading now and check your insurance policy.  This is the process your kids can utilize. (sans the rum)

1. Place the coconut on the ground.  It will have three or so semi-flat sides.  Remove toes from the immediate area.

2. Take a small pointed shovel or spade.  Stab the coconut with the convex (outwardly curved portion) toward the inside, or middle, of the coconut.

3. Do the same in reverse order with another shovel.  The object here is to have the back of the shovels against each other.  You do not have to get tremendously deep here, just get a good ‘bite’ into the husk.

4. Now, with the backs of the shovels touching, use the handles to pry open the husk a little bit.  Make a couple of good ‘stretches’ in the husk.

5. Roll the coconut onto another side and repeat.  Then roll it, and repeat.

6. The nut is now exposed and you can easily tear it from the husk.

7. The husk works for your small beachside campfire, as a planter for the pretty orchids, or air plants you may have hanging around (you can sell them to your friends, or they make great gifts).

8. Shake the nut and listen to the milk sloshing around in there.   That is what we are after next.

9. Hold the nut so you can see the top.  There are three plugged holes.  Some folks call this the monkey face.  The ‘mouth’ will always be the softer of the three holes.

10. Poke this hole with the screwdriver you had earlier.  Just kind of dig it out.  If using a knife, be very careful… really, it will hurt, trust me.  I know of such things.

11. Once the plug is dug out, pour the clear rum mixer into any handy container.

Here is the tricky part: deciding if you want to eat the coconut now, flavor it, or save it.  So, to flavor it, pour some rum into the hole and plug with a leftover wine cork you have whittled.   (There is lots of time on a sailboat for these sorts of activities.)  You can decide to cut it in half and make a really cool drink cup out of the lower portion, or any other manner of really extraordinarily cool neat things.  But for now, let’s assume you have an anxious parrot wanting to get at the sweet white meat inside the nut and we need to cut this thing open.

12. Grab that hammer you had earlier and give the nut a couple of easy whacks.  It will crack fairly easy now that the little hole has been dug open.   Whack it into manageable pieces.

13. Get that knife you had earlier.  This will allow you to pry the white meat off of the brown nut shell.  Be careful, you can get cut, trust me, I know of such things.

14. Share the coconut with your parrot.

15. Flavor to taste and then sip the rum as the sun sets.

Enjoy the fresh juice and meat. While you’re at it, tip your drink my way and give us an ‘Ahoy’!

Footnote: In response to readers comments I’ve linked the photos so you can view a larger image. Double click them and there you have it~magic!  And while your at it, leave some comments, or share the link with your friends. It’s all FREE!

I pointed at the T.V. and said, “One day that is going to be us anchored there.” I received the customary, ‘yes dear, uh-huh’ reply.

Waking up this morning I listened to a now familiar sound. Light puff’s of air followed gentle swirling splashes of water. They were feeding all around my boat. We were finally parked there, in the harbor. I bet we were on the morning news show weather picture.

Dolphins feeding in the Vinoy Basin

The dolphins were chasing breakfast. I got up and looked through the portlight. (boat window for the landlubbers reading this) I could almost reach out and touch them.

Arriving on deck in my skivvies I watched my own morning weather show. The sun was rising above the horizon casting a red glow across the bottoms of some high passing clouds. A light breeze was spinning the wind generator as the solar panel began to grab the first bits of the sun’s electrical power. The city was still quiet.

We were anchored in the Vinoy Basin, which is in downtown St. Petersburg. We have been here for three days now. Once I completed the solar panel project we decided to go out and give it a try. We headed into Tampa Bay and hoisted sails. The winds were light and variable. Not a great day for sailing, but a beautiful day for boating.

Sheree set out a couple of trolling lines looking for Spanish Mackerel. I’m certain that they would be allowed to bleed on the deck…

Easing along the surface of Tampa Bay

The day was about as peaceful as one could ask for. I was about three miles out into the bay when the wind died altogether. Not a problem I thought as we dropped the anchor. The water was calm. It was time for lunch.

Somehow a nap crept in. That melted away the rest of the afternoon so we headed in.

Approaching St. Pete there is a large pier protruding into the bay. It’s appropriately named, ‘The Pier’. There are several restaurants, an aquarium, shops, and bars. They always seem to have something going on. Live bands, arts and crafts shows, something interesting. Later this month they are having a Michael Jackson event where they are trying to break the world record for the most people ever dancing at once to the song Thriller. I think that may present a little too much activity for me…

We set anchor in the well protected bay and dropped the dinghy. The night was as peaceful as I could have ever hoped for. The bay was calm and the winds were light. The city lights were gorgeous. The buildings were lit with varying colors highlighting the architecture and flavor of the town.

Downtown St. Petersburg

There was a dinghy dock at a boat rental business here on the bay. You park at the business and on the way out is a little lock box affixed to the gate requesting a$5.00 fee for use. ‘Honor System’ in play. We were honorable.

A short walk downtown and we found a nice outside café partaking in evening cocktails and dinner. How nice. This was followed by a quiet stroll around Coffeepot Bayou in the dinghy.

The next morning we went exploring some more in the tender. We traveled through the St. Pete Yacht Club moorings and around Albert Whitted airport. There is a place to anchor at the end of the runway. This is a busy little airport on the water. You want to keep your masthead light on at night to show the small aircraft where not to go, you are that close.

The activities in an anchorage are intriguing at times. The range spreads from multimillion dollar mega yachts to rowboats. The shore-side parks house the homeless and roving packs of laughing teenagers at night.

Chapel on the bay

Vinoy Park had an event yesterday that had thousands of people filling every empty space ashore. It was a breast cancer awareness 5k walk/run. Pink was the color of the day as throngs of folks lined up on Bayshore Blvd to begin the event. News camera’s were everywhere and the police had streets blocked off.

We enjoyed the spectacle from the  serenity of our boat, binoculars in hand. Most of the handmade signs were of the standard variety you would expect to see at a breast cancer event. There was one fellow who was in the middle of the pack holding up his sign, “SAVE SECOND BASE.” That was my favorite.

Just enjoying the day

There was a 30’ Hunter sailboat anchored next to us for the last three days. (Did I mention we were only staying here for one night?) There was a lady onboard with a young girl, about 7. She climbed the mast and perched on the boom while playing with a doll and seemed very happy. When Mom went up front to hoist the anchor this morning the little girl manned the helm adeptly keeping the boat in position. They departed to points unknown waving goodbye on the way out of the harbor.

I didn’t know she was listening at the time, but Sheree reminded me of the day I pointed at the T.V. and said, “One day that is going to be us anchored there.”

We have arrived.

We had a big laugh while reading the directions. They indicated an easy one morning project. What am I at now, day five?

Dinghy davits used to also hold up the solar panel

The electrical cable I ordered from Miami a week ago with three day shipping has yet to arrive. I’ve called the company four times now and have yet to speak with someone about the order. The lady on the other end keeps taking my phone number and telling me someone will get right back to me!

Well, I really can’t delay this project much longer and maintain any dignity around the marina. You don’t do anything here without the scrutiny of everyone in eyesight. They all watch the project progress and are eager to present insightful recommendations on how to proceed. The later in the day it becomes, the more alcohol is consumed. This is directly proportional to the complexity and depth of the suggestions.

I locate some spare boat electrical cable I had stashed away in the event of just such a situation. I call to cancel my order in Miami and am told someone will get right back to me!

Breaking out the power drill, portable torch, and a host of other tools I resign myself to the task of finishing this.

On the end of the port side dinghy davit is a piece that will hold the pulley which will raise the dinghy. As I adjust the davits to install the cross beams, which will hold the solar panel the unusual magnetic characteristic of salt water sucks the $28 end cap right off the davit. The cap had to elevate itself 25 degrees and slide upwards over an inch defying gravity.

Youch...

The part makes a satisfying plop in the water. Yes, satisfying… This means that I have donated expensive new parts into the briny deep thereby paying homage to the sea Gods that often request such payment. I do feel better having lost this part.

Something was going into the water. Better this than the $600 solar panel.

The drill comes out and now I have to start making holes in the boat. I drill into the cap rail to feed the wire from above deck to below. This is only accomplished after taking apart the aft stateroom and bunk. The wire has to lead from the panel to under the bunk, past the steering gear, next to the engine shaft, past a host of other electrical goodies and into the engine room and onto the circuit panel.

I did manage to install the charge controller, and it looks pretty darn good if I do say so myself. Lucky I suspect.

Now then, I’m not exactly sure how I did it, but here is the days blood donation. I think I lanced myself with a stiff piece of stainless safety wire I was using to fish the wire up through the hole. It made a nice little puncture wound which should heal without too much difficulty. When I first stabbed myself I let loose with the appropriate cuss words just below audible level.

Solar panel installed!

You know your loved when you immediately hear, “Don’t get any blood on the deck,” from down below. So, that puts me somewhere below a seabass in the pecking order. Fish can bleed on my deck, but I cannot…

It was a good thing as it is only a small donation. Nothing requiring a trip to the nearby emergency room, which makes this donation particularly satisfying. I’ve managed to make the daily project donation without excess injury. Another milestone passed!

Now that I’ve donated brand new parts, lots of sweat, and a bit of blood I can happily continue on with my project, secure in the knowledge that I’ve paid all necessary dues required to safely finish this project.

It was a grand accomplishment. I finished just in time to grab a cold Corona and watch a couple of volts transfer from the panel to the batteries just before the sun set.

Far Reaches, the modern power yacht!

Taking advantage of any opportunity to avoid disaster I jump at the offer to go fishing.

My neighbor, Reed has a rather stately power vessel and is preparing to go to sea. He is looking for volunteers to assist in the seaworthy task of catching fish. We agree.

6am and the preparations are underway. I go to Dunkin Doughnuts to get the glazed ‘energy rings’ and java. Reed heads to the bait shop for, well, bait. The sun rises on time and Reed’s other guests arrive.

We pull away from the dock on a beautiful morning and approach the local drawbridge. We are all noticing a larger than normal population of Box Jellyfish. They have some long tentacles and are plentiful. It would not be a good time to fall in the water.

Box Jellyfish with long stingers~

Dolphins approach and feed nearby. This is always a good sign.

For the last four or five days the weather has been perfect. Today would be the one day this week that the seas decide to play havoc with our fishing plans. We start rolling back and forth and I hear the contents of Reed’s boat begin to shift positions matching the wave action. Nothing too traumatic at this point, just a little uncomfortable. One of the guys comments that he was glad his wife could not make it on this trip as she would have been seasick by now.

We manage to anchor on a reef about eight miles offshore and start fishing. Several small fish are caught pretty quickly. Nothing to keep though as the red grouper were all undersized and the snapper were kind of small as well.

Dolphins love the bow wave

Several storms start merging a bit further out in the Gulf as one small one passes overhead. The boat gets a quick rinse as the waves build. The Captain decides that it’s time to head back in before the larger storms hit us.

Today was a great day. I caught a couple of fish, and was able to avoid the pain and suffering of my pending solar panel installation project. Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day for hurting myself…

The difference between fishing and a simple boat ride, bad weather...

Lacking a sufficient reserve of blood I paid someone to install the new engine. Perhaps bleeding is related to the exchange of money.

Anyhow, I’m back from an extended work assignment overseas. Patiently waiting for me is my self imposed list of to do chores and boat upgrades. This time I’m adding dinghy davits, which will ultimately hold the new solar panel on. (and the dinghy) Green is good! Between the wind generator and now the solar panel, we shall have sufficient electricity available while under sail or at anchor to meet our electronic needs.   

Keeping the adult beverages cold comes at a price.

My new davits arrive and I begin the installation process. They are from a company called MarTek Ltd located up the road in Clearwater Fl. They sure do look nice coming out of the package, and were a very good price.

www.martekdavits.com

Being a responsible consumer I actually open and read the directions. Here it is on page one, the first paragraph; “In most cases the installation of your MarTek Davits are a simple afternoon project.”

I start laughing as I read it to my wife. She goes and gets the band-aids ready. I start getting some power tools out. She gets the triple antibiotic ointment and readies the cell phone for a possible 911 call. I tell her I’m not climbing the mast so I should be able to walk across the street to the emergency walk-in clinic if necessary.

Let the project begin…

The davits are a pretty straight forward project. They require two calls with the owner of MarTek who was very helpful on the phone with some suggestions. What I want to do is not possible, it will void the integrity of the design and he convinces me to abandon my independent thoughts and follow the directions.  

The blood on this project has not appeared yet. I’ve managed to cut the davits to custom fit them to my stern rails and have not injured myself as of yet. The project is still young however, and today will require the use of several different power tools. I know I’m going to bleed, it’s inevitable.

While enjoying my morning coffee I’m checking my email and get a short missive from a friend of mine who is on the east coast of Florida. I’m not going to mention Brent’s name here so we shall just refer to him as, ‘injured person #1.’

Injured person #1 is also a boat owner and do it yourselfer. Here is a short excerpt~

Not much sailing going on here, but getting a lot of stuff done. I have managed to almost completely remove my fingerprints from all of my fingers twice in two weeks, once chemically and once mechanically. Surprising how the pain from that is pretty minor at first and then continually increases until you can’t think about much else.

I built a concrete block enclosure for the garbage and recycling. It used to be on the side of the house and trash cans were right there to greet you when you pulled up to the house, now it’s disguised and actually looks pretty good. In a couple of weeks I’ll see if I can teach myself to stucco and then paint it to match the house. I lost my fingerprints for first time on this project when I used my fingers to stuff mortar into the vertical gaps between the blocks and then used my hands and fingers to smooth the mortar for a pleasing appearance. I knew that the lye in mortar would leach the fats from my skin, but I didn’t realize how quickly that would happen, or that the process would make the skin so soft that the sand in the mortar would rip the skin off like I was touching a sanding belt. That hurt for about two days.

Yesterday I started another project where I’m laying wall block and pavers to build up a modest terraced planting area near the front door. All that requires a lot of leveling and stuff and the final layers are sand and this tiny gravel. I again used my hands to distribute those materials around the area, and even though there was no lye involved this time it sanded the hell out of my fingers. Only took off one or two layers of skin this time, so no blood and not really painful… but close. It makes my fingertips feel funny enough that maybe I’ll remember not to be so stupid for a week or more this time around.

One of my other friends, Nat, has been doing a major project on his boat. It has to do with varnishing his cabin sole (the boats inside floor) in the summer with all the hatches closed. There are injuries there as well. How could you hurt yourself varnishing? Well, there are razor knifes, screwdrivers, sanders, and a host of other sharp objects involved in any boat project. Adding varnish fumes in an enclosed space just can’t bee good.

Well, the sun is up and my day is beginning. I salute my injured friends this morning and really mean it when I say, “I feel your pain.”

Time to plug in the saws-all.

Been nowhere in particular

Every now and then a garden variety Florida thunderstorm passes through the area cooling things off for a few hours. The temps are running in the low 90’s with the humidity around 88%. It’s muggy. Small amounts of work will generate large amounts of sweat.

What in the heck are we doing at the marina anyhow?

Unable to answer the above question, we left with the tide. Winds were light and variable. The water is 88 degrees, so perhaps some swimming or diving will have to occur during this trip to nowhere, which is exactly where we were headed. This was a trip without a plan.

You never know who you will run into out here.

We decided to get away from the dock, but were unsure as to where we were headed. We did decide to head basically south. There is a nice place near Lemon Bay (Manasota Beach) to drop the anchor and go sharks teeth diving. I pulled out the chart and found a couple of neat places up along the Manatee River that we have not been to before. Maybe we will go there.

Leaving our marina we were greeted in the Inter Costal Waterway by an old friend of mine. We chatted with John and his wife for a short time as we approached the draw bridge. We tried to plan on going to Egmont Key and spending the night tied up with John. He had to be back to work, so that plan was scrapped. We were screaming along at 5 knots. John was in idle.

I'm just following the bird...

He couldn’t take the slow speeds any longer and soon departed on a plane. We agreed to meet up sometime in the future and spend the evening enjoying sundowner cocktails at the Key. I’m looking forward to that.

Passing the first drawbridge we were faced with which way to go. Turning right (starboard for you sailors) would take us out into the Gulf of Mexico. From there we could head down to the sharks teeth hunting grounds. The only problem with this is that there is no wind. A bit unusual for this time of the year. Nothing to fill the sails with was forecast for the rest of the week according to my marine radio. If we are going anywhere, it will be with the auxiliary engine only. The only thing the sails will be doing this week would be to provide a lot of shade.

We decided to turn left. That would take us through another drawbridge, then under I-275, and into Tampa Bay. Without the wind to drive us along we would have to find someplace closer to go. I don’t like listening to the engine all day and it heats up the boat.

I-275, where all the busy people are

The final decision had been made. Apollo Beach.

We could visit friends, hoist a drink or three at the tiki bar, dinner at Circles Restaurant, and visit with some friends. So that is exactly what we did, not necessarily in that order.

It was all about nothing. No wind, no rain, no chores, no schedule… nothing in particular.

We did have our cocktails, did visit with friends, and had some great food. All as it just happened, nothing planned beyond the next ten minutes or so.

Since we were not in a hurry to go anywhere or do anything in particular, we were compelled to watch Spanish mackerel spawn in Tampa Bay. I don’t believe that they actually cared or not if we were watching. Sheree tossed in a couple of great looking lures into the schools, but nothing would bite. They were busy spawning and running from the occasional opportunistic shark passing by.

Holy mackerel...

We saw lots of sting rays, birds, and a few other passing boats. Nobody appeared to be in much of a hurry as it was a work day for most of the world.

We on the other hand, had nothing in particular to do today, or the next day, or the next…

Do not disturb... busy going nowhere.

Back in the water where I belong

The surf God is presently angry on the west side of Florida. I know, all you guy’s who live in big water land are looking at my huge surf photos and calling me a sissy. Yeah, well… I’m rubber, your glue-

The Gulf of Mexico has been known to look like a lake on many days. We usually have a very gentle breeze in the morning coming from the east this time of the year. That means flat calm water, which is nice and clear. We usually don’t have the vegetation washed up on the beach either.

It’s easy to tell when the wind and surf is up. The folks with the windsurfing boards show up and appear to be having a great time. I’ve got to keep an eye out for them to keep from getting my head ran over. Sometimes in the surf I’m shoulder deep and just have my head bobbing up.

St Pete beach

When the water is clear I’ve seen Manatee’s swim by, dolphins, and even a shark or two. Sting rays are here most of the time, but the coil of the detector usually runs them off before I step on one. Which, by the way, I’ve done in the past.

I was walking in the surf one time and had my foot yanked out from under me. I tumbled into the water as it was only in knee deep. It took about sixty seconds for the intense pain to begin. It felt like someone had made a slit up my leg with a razor knife and poured a salty lighter fluid solution into the gaping wound and subsequently lighting it afire.

It truly made me, a grown man, cry like a baby.

Just a pretty view of the rough conditions

I suffered like a baby for the next hour until I was in the ER at the local beach hospital. The first thing they did was fill a janitors mop bucket (after removing the dirty mop, it is a hospital after all) and with steaming hot water. My foot was shoved into the water and the most amazing thing happened…

Within thirty seconds I felt the intense burning of the sting ray poison subside. The pain vanished as my foot began to boil like a stunned lobster. A red foot was worth the lack of pain.

I stopped crying.

The lesson here…

Yikes, the big wave... (waterproof camera)

1. Find the hottest water you can. Get it from a coffee pot, the exhaust from the outboard engine, a nearby restaurant, anywhere. The hotter the better.

2. Soak foot.

3. Go to hospital.

4. It’s okay to cry.

Anyhow, I’ve spent time in southern California, and that water is ice cold all year. Big waves and gooey oil stuff in the sand. The Gulf however, is presently at 88 degrees and the sand is usually clean with a fine sugary texture. It’s a pure joy to hang out in the surf, usually. The water today is choppy, cloudy, and just a bit rough. I suppose we have to take the less than desirable on a rare occasion to truly appreciate the wonderful beach weather we have here most of the time.

The scoop shaft is supposed to be straight

I’ve decided to do a little more beach hunting to see what the tourists have deposited in the way of cash and treasures. I’ve managed to collect a few coins and highly valued pieces of scrap aluminum pull tabs when I bent the scoop.

My beach scoop is pretty strong, and should have withstood the massive waves I’m encountering this afternoon, but alas… all is not well in paradise. I had dug it in to start scooping up treasure when a wave got me. Yep, one of those massively HUGE west coast Florida waves. Well, that put an end to the scoop. It bent and is no longer a working beach scoop; it’s simply a hunk of pipe with a basket on the end.

I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get this one fixed or not. It may be time to stimulate the economy and buy a new one. In any event, I lost the treasure I was digging. I’m positive that last target was the 3ct. diamond ring I’ve been searching for.

The mighty beach hunter in action

I’ll just have to keep coming to the beach and searching, over and over and over again. Agonizing… but someone has to do it.

It may as well be me.

A windsurfer on the way by

The water-boy

The busted scoop

Here comes the boss, time to explain how I broke something again

The mighty scallop

First and foremost, MAKE SURE IT IS SCALLOPING SEASON. A second little tip, MAKE SURE YOU ARE IN A LEGAL HARVESTING AREA. Failing to make sure you are in compliance will mean you will no longer be able to call the little shells scallops, and will have to use the moniker, ‘baby clams.’

The folks that know me know the back story, but since there may be some Florida Wildlife Commission officers reading this, I have never intentionally, and let me repeat… almost never violated any rules or regulations as set forth by the legal eagles of the Great State of Florida and enforced by those with guns and ticket books.

A fine collection of scallops

Should you accidentally find yourself in an awkward situation whereas you may possess some baby clams, do not do anything that would draw attention to yourself until you are safely ashore and the sun has set. And most certainly do not anchor next to the nearest US Coast Guard station.

Anyhow, as it is presently legally scalloping season, let’s concentrate on the task at hand…

First off, you need to be in an area along the west coast of Florida between the Pasco-Hernando county lines and running up to Mexico Beach in the Florida panhandle. The season runs from July 1st to September 10th. The adept scalloper is permitted to collect two gallons of whole scallops a day, which is about one pint of cleaned meat, but no more than ten gallons whole scallops a day, for any boat.

Step one, let the cleaning begin

You must capture the critters, and take them to shore in an area where it’s legal to harvest scallops. I suppose that this is should you actually be in possession of scallops, on a vessel outside the designated collection area, you will not be permitted to call them ‘baby clams’ and continue on your way. I would also suspect that you would face less of a punishment if you were in possession of 12 illegal immigrants and a kilo of cocaine.

Have a bag of baby clams in the onboard reefer while out of season, and outside the designated area… Well, you may get set adrift by the people who would seize your vessel and subsequently sell it back to you at a government auction six years from now. I suppose you could keep a pack of Ms. Paul’s fresh frozen sea scallops as a handy throw down box should you get boarded and searched.

Step two, guts

Getting back to the original story, we went to Cross City which is due west of Gainesville Fl. We found a small RV park where we set up camp. The water along the coast here is too shallow for our sailboat, the AbbyGale. We cajoled our relatives into coming along, boats and trailers required. We found Poor-Boy’s RV park which was a really neat little campground. $23.00 a night for full hook-ups was a sweet bonus.

Our intended destination for boating is Horseshoe Beach, due west of Cross City, about 21 minutes by auto. They have a county park at the beach with a free boat ramp. They also have a couple of paid campsites there, but they are generally full, and they don’t have much for power, water, or sewage hook-ups. The drive from Poor Boy’s is not that long considering the convenience of the park and nearby restaurants and such.

Step three, getting closer!

This is also a great place if you are interested in going to any of the many natural springs in the area. Perhaps another post…

We put the boats in the water and parked the trailers. Within 20 minutes we were in scalloping territory. All you need is about 5-6 feet of clear water about five miles away from the ramp, and a desire to go swimming. We dropped the anchor in some wiregrass beds and began the hunt.

The scallops are easy to spot once you know what to look for. Once you get the hang of it, it’s very easy to get your limit in an hour or so. Some will be lying on the grass, and when you dive to get that one, you generally see one or two more. Some of our hunters were picking up five scallops in one dive.

Step four, here's the meat

We would bring them up to the mother ship dumping our collection bags and continue the hunt. Anyone not wanting to get wet can begin the cleaning process speeding things up.

Grasp the scallop in one hand and with a scallop knife, insert the blade into the side. The knife is curved, and not sharpened. You need to use the blade to scrape the membrane free from the inside of the top half of the scallop shell. Peel this shell off and toss in a bucket.

There will be a glob of goo remaining in the lower shell. The next step is to scrape the membrane away and into a bucket. What remains is the scallop muscle, which is white in color and about the size of your finger tip, from the knuckle up.

The boat cleaning station

Using the backside of the blade, scrape off the scallop muscle and put it into a pint Tupperware container. (This helps with seeing when you have reached your limit)

There you have it… cleaned scallops. Feel free to try one of many recipes available for the tiny morsels. Just remember, do NOT overcook them. Drop a scallop in a hot skillet with butter, lemon, garlic, and a little seasoning, for an easy treat. It will take less than 60 seconds to completely cook the little guy.

Should you desire to relax and enjoy your catch, there is another way. For the truly lazy (which I’ve been known to be a time or two) there is a nice little restaurant at the end of Horseshoe Beach. You can get the standard frozen microwave fare if you’re absolutely starving, but for the true seafood lover; hand them your baggies of fresh caught seafood.

The Horseshoe Cafe

They will cook your catch for under $10.00 per person, which includes two sides. They will blacken or fry your catch and serve it up hot and steamy. It’s tough to get anything fresher. They did have fresh caught soft-shell crab available the night we were there, and it was mighty tasty.

And there you have it, another hidden Florida tasty treat just waiting to be plucked from the sea. Oh, and by the way, ‘baby clams’ taste amazingly like scallops!

Enjoy!

You could get lucky and find a flounder

So I hit to beach today with my Infinium in search of famed golden treasures. Jewelry shopping if you will…
We got to an area that had a lot of vegetation washed up and contained within was a ton of plastic crap. There were zillions of sunglasses and swim goggles. I saw one guy walking away with a couple of swim mask’s. There were also handfuls of sunglasses.
Plastic crap galore, and a ton of can slaw. There was so much slaw in the area it was impossible to hunt with the tector.
Anyhow, the family female command center boss directs me to unload the tector and start poking about the seaweed for cash. She apparently is pretty good at spotting US mint green concealed within seaweed green.
We come up with $25 in cash. The grandkids have swim goggles for life, and everyone we know is getting a pair of sunglasses for next Christmas.

It's cash!

Found this ID bracelet too. I called the number on the bracelet and it seems that the owner is training for a triathlon and lost it swimming last Wednesday. I’ll drop it in the mail to him.
I found a nickel with my detector… Put in my place once again~

A little worn, or laundered?

Beach junk

Road ID tag... returned to owner

My brain contains a rather odd collection of moments, most of them I truly relish.

I’ll share some with you, take a moment out and enjoy!

I woke up and stepped out to this view. The colors of the water are so vivid they are beyond the capabilities of my camera. Birds are stirring and hopping among the palms as the morning breeze begins to pick up, the smell of tropical oceans gently waking me up to another exciting day in paradise.  Sheree is rustling about and steps out onto the balcony to join the early morning splendor.

My brain starts playing one of my favorite songs…  Lucky, by Jason Mraz…

So we step out onto the beach. The waves have left a clean flat spot of wet sand for us to leave our mark. The footprints won’t last long, but they were there. However briefly in island time, it’s proof that we were here!

So now the discussion begins… is it a head or a coconut? What if it’s a real head, maybe crabs ate the face off and were having… steak for dinner tonight. How long has the head been here? If we report this and it’s just a coconut we may not be allow to order any more mixed drinks… It’s probably a coconut. Yep, just a coconut.

So lunch time rolls around and we find this non-tourist restaurant off on a side street. This is the kind of place I’m after. It’s going to be a place where I can practice my limited Spanish. My proficiency is gauged on what we actually ate for lunch -vs- what I thought I was ordering.

I did manage to discover that I had made a grievous error when I ate some of the ‘mild’ sauce I ordered. It was either that or our definition of mild is a bit different than the locals. In any event I suspect there were some folks in the kitchen laughing wildly as the Gringo ingested the ‘mild’ sauce…

Oh well, my contribution to world peace…

After eating the ‘mild’ sauce I could simply turn around and pray for redemption…

So we headed down the coastline and found this wonderful place. It’s a very nice and affordable hotel on the beach. We walked around and enjoyed the view. We were compelled to sit and enjoy a couple of adult beverages as island time slipped past.

Cool and refreshing…   now, back to the beach.

Island time, yeah  ~just lay back and relax~

I’ll upload some more photos as soon as I can get my brain back into civilization mode. It’s not an easy thing ya know…

After the finish line, our escort into Isla Mujeres

The day passed easily enough sans the big waves. We were actually looked down upon by a pod of dolphins in the crests of the waves above us as. Several large sea turtles scurried out of our way and a handful of Portuguese Man-Of-War jellyfish floated past. A small yellow and brown finch landed in the cockpit. We were 80 miles from shore. Blown away from land on a strong breeze no doubt, and he was very tired.

The sky and sea finally began to calm that afternoon. It had become so nice out that we actually had a hot meal. One of our crew broke out his guitar and made up a few new sea shanty’s for our entertainment. We accompanied him with a kazoo chorus as we all enjoyed the respite.

Taking a look at the beach on the way by

It was the kazoo’s that had angered the god’s, we were sure of it. The winds and waves returned with a vengeance. My midnight watch at the helm gave me new insight into why I really hate lightning at sea. It was not so much the fear of being struck as it was the momentary ability to see in the utter blackness. I was much happier not being able to look at the towering waves and only focus on the gyrating compass while I held course. Kazoo’s are forever banned on my boat.
Yeah buddy, were racing now!
Devoid of current weather information, we decide to stick to our original plan. The winds were forecast (three days ago) to become calm in the Yucatan Channel between Mexico and Cuba, at about the same time the fleet completed the last 50 miles. Coming up from the south through the channel is a strong current. If we head south along the west side of Cuba we can enter the Gulf Stream a little south of Isla Mujeres. While the fleet is foundered and drifting north, we will ride the current to the entrance of Isla and claim victory!

The marina at Isla Mujeres

And it was a fine plan too. Mother Nature had her own agenda however, and decided to let the winds blow for another 12 hours past the scheduled cut off time. Unaware of this bit of weather change caused us to give away most of the time we had greedily procured during the race. The sea givith, and so shall the sea taketh…
We found ourselves crossing the finish line entering Isla Mujeres, Mexico on Monday at 11:57:57, which garnered us third place in our class and eighth place over all. There were over 30 boats in the race. This was pretty darn respectable for a vessel designed to cruise in comfort staffed with an unfamiliar crew at the helm. We were proud of ourselves with good reason. We had cast off our bow lines and set sail from safe harbor. We had explored, we had dreamed, we had arrived.

The marina

Okay I goofed… you have to go to the main webpage and double click the photo there for the larger version, I don’t think you can do it from your email version. (Too much Sol) Stay tuned for part 4…

Heeling over and sailing along

The Elice II is a regular cruising boat, not a racer. The fastest this boat had ever seen in the past was a bit over 9 knots. We laid the Elice II over on her starboard side under full sail. Sitting at the helm you could reach over the lifeline and drag your hand in the water as we were heeling over somewhere around 35-40 degrees. We were being propelled through the water at over 9.5 knots. Combining our speed through the water, and adding in the speed of the current our navigator had found, rewarded us with numbers the GPS had never shown this boat before. 12.4 knots, we were very well pleased with ourselves.
With that much wind however, comes the downside. Waves. Lot of them, lots of very big ones. My turn on the helm that night was both exciting and concerning. I could lean my head back from under the bimini and see the most incredible view of the sky. This is what everyone saw before the light pollution of mankind occluded the night sky. The Milky Way galaxy, I could actually see it with the naked eye. A pulsating light showed me a rotating satellite transiting from one horizon to the next. Shooting stars, I had lost count early on. I had thought celestial navigation too difficult as you do not have enough stars to plot your course by. There had always been plenty; I could see that now that I was away from civilization. I was in awe of the sky.

One of the smaller waves

The waves had increased in size. The tops glowed with phosphorescence as they were blown off by the night winds. By sunrise we were surfing the backside of some of the larger waves. I was happy to be relieved of duty as I wanted to go below for some shuteye. I decided that by being the newest member aboard was how I was able to draw the middle of the night watch. My stomach was growling as I arrived in the galley, my official station aboard. Hanging on and surveying the possible food choices I had decided upon a sandwich. Nothing that required too much preparation or thought as my brain was about as worn out as my body at this point.
I reached into the galley sink and wetted my hands to get all the salt off, and applied a dab of dish detergent to wash up with. About that time the boat departed my small little part of space and time. I did some kind of floating human magic trick. My body departed the port side galley, twisting 180 degrees around and landed upon the starboard side navigation station table. I could hear a loud crash and thud. It was an easy sound to identify as it was I who had made it.

Captain Marlin hanging on

Scratch the sandwich. My main goal was to get to the aft stateroom, lay abeam the bed with my feet halfway up the starboard bulkhead for support. I needed to lay there a while and lick my wounds. I now had some major bruising developing which added to a previously cut knee, (lifeline cotterpin) cut toe, (companionway ladder) bruised shoulder (fell into the binnacle – twice) and a slightly twisted ankle (unknown origin).

Part 3 in a day or two! Stay tuned-

Marty at the helm

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The salty crew of the Elice II ready for the race

Weeks of planning and preparation are about to bear fruit. The anticipation and excitement of my first race have led me to the morning of the 41st annual St. Pete, Florida to Isla Mujeres, Mexico race. I’m the newest crew member so therefore assigned as galley slave, rail meat, and general deck hand. I’ve never raced my own boat, so this will be a great learning experience for me, and we get to break someone else’s equipment.
Wednesday night at the St. Pete Yacht Club has everyone conducting last minute preparations for the next morning’s start. Crews are busy finalizing paperwork, loading onboard stores, adult beverages along with plenty of ice, and readying all sails and lines. We find ourselves aboard the Elice II, a 47′ Catalina, with one final pre-race task.

Departing St. Pete Yacht club for the start of the race

Our Captain keeps a close watch for the crew of ‘After You’ whom all presently are ashore enjoying the evening festivities while our youngest crew member silently slips over the side, and into the water. Making his way under the dock, he surreptitiously affixes several toilet plungers just below the waterline on the other vessels hull. This should create just enough drag to ensure our victory as our Captain had previously made a side wager with her sailing master.
The next morning brings a slight breeze as the fleet departs the docks and passes in review of the spectators lined up along the end of the St. Pete Pier. Our crew is standing by in anticipation of the start of the race for our group, everyone on the ready. The VHF radio crackles to life announcing our class as we dart across the starting line. Our sails are now fully extended and luffing in the waning breeze, the crew staring seaward as we begin to go… slower… slower… backwards?

St. Pete Pier... we saw this for way too long...

The GPS shows definite movement backwards. Okay, this is my first race, and I’m just the galley boy, but even I can surmise that we are going the wrong darn way. I begin to have my first doubts as to the competence of the navigator when I hear the anchor chain rolling out of the locker. Yep, ten minutes into my first race and we’re anchored. It seems that no sooner than the race kicked off, the wind died. All of it, not even a puff. The incoming tide had us going backwards…
Not much to say other than we were all pretty sick of looking at the St. Pete Pier for the next 4 hours. When the breeze finally did begin to waft across the bay, anchors among the fleet were hoisted back into position freeing the becalmed vessels. Another hour later we finally passed under the Sunshine Skyway Bridge entering the Gulf of Mexico. The wind picked up to over 20 knots and had us on a port reach as the bow sliced nicely through the waves.

The entire race and vacation will be published in several installments, so stay tuned! If you are signed up as a free subscriber, the updates will magically appear in your email!

Competitors

Good morning all. For those of you that were following the race via the internet, you saw how well we did. Our arrival, just under one week ago, began a long list of events related to the race. We have also enjoyed all that the island has to offer. Fine dining on authentic food, to diving in some of the most pristine waters I’ve seen in quite some time.

Hard at work on the beach

Tomorrow morning we have to leave this little slice of paradise and return to civilization, assuming it’s still there. I’ve been without news from the outside world for the past 12 days or so. No television, no newspapers, nada. It has been kind of nice leaving the world and all its troubles behind. Maybe I still have a job, maybe not. If unemployed, I could get used to this real easy. Sheree can make beaded necklaces for the tourists and I’ll sell cervesa on the beach. Maybe I’ll just sail around ‘el Carib and see what pops up…

It does not take much to envision life here. I’m looking out between two coconut palms and into the stunningly blue waters of the western Caribbean. The hues are breathtaking. Yesterday Sheree was snorkeling in front of the hotel. Her main complaint was that the water was so clear, and the sun so bright, she needs a dive mask with a polarized lens.

Drinks and dinner!

I’ll be updating the blog regularly after my return to civilization and detail the race for everyone. It was a blast and I’ll go again given the opportunity. I’m off to find an internet connection and send this to the blog. Not an easy task when the other priority has an ice cold Sol (cervesa) while sitting under a beach umbrella… (did I mention that this is a bikini top optional island?)

Don’t tell me how the world is or what has been going on during the last two weeks, I don’t want to spoil today…

The 41st Regata del Sol al Sol is preparing to depart from the Saint Petersburg Yacht Club on Friday morning the 24th, at 1000hrs.  We will be racing from St. Pete Florida to Isla Mujere Mexico, a short 460 nautical miles to the southwest. It will take us about 4 days to get there.

Here is a link to the webpage for more information.

Race tracking page

http://www.mexicorace.com/

I’ll be crewing on the Elise II, which you read about in previous posts. I’ll supply more information in the coming days on who is aboard, and more importantly, how the race is going!

Through the miracle of the internet you will be able to follow the race as it progresses. Go to the link above, on the center of the Mexicorace page you will see a link for tracking the boats with iboat tracking. Just click on the link and enter our boats name, the Elise II.  *You can look at the iboat tracking page now, but not track us, as we are still in port. (you have to wait for the race to start)

We will leave on Friday morning and do our best to have a good showing on our speed run to Mexico. We took the boat out today in Tampa Bay and had a great shakedown cruise. We ran up all the sails, to include the spinnaker, just to make sure everything is in order. The Elise II was then moored at the St. Pete Yacht Club while final preparations are being made.

I’m anxious to get started, it will be a fun run-so stay tuned for the latest updates, and wish us luck!