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

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.

http://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

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pWsjM1VDJ9U

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

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!

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.

http://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.

http://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?

As you are aware, we are all facing economic hardships and money is tight. We like to drop anchor and come ashore a couple of times a week for a nice meal (something other than fish) We have had to tighten up our budget a bit and are now looking for alternatives. We passed some cruisers the other day and they suggested we try seagull. Are they any good?

John Livingstone

s/v Fletcher Wind

The common seagull, to dine or not to dine...

Dear  John,

Interesting question, which reminds me of a story…

I was sailing solo one time from Bermuda making a straight shot to Anguilla. That’s a great course to navigate, just head due south and favor a little to the left. I missed once and landed in Tortola, which is an entirely different story.

Anyhow, I was becalmed about 300 miles north of the islands for a week. I hadn’t planned on staying at sea quite that long and my provisions were running a bit low. Like you, I was beginning to tire of fresh fish.

Well, as it happened on day, a sea gull had perched himself on my stern rail one afternoon. The more I stared at that bird the more it started to look like a chicken. The hallucinations were causing my mouth to water and my stomach to growl.

I won’t go into the specifics involved, but let’s just say that a spear gun may be a bit excessive for this task. (hey, I was hungry)

Well then, with a clean bird I head below and start the makings of a nice chicken stew. I took what leftover vegetables I had, which was half an onion, two limp carrots, one cup of dry beans, and a small can of mushroom pieces and stems.

I tossed everything into the pot with the bird and set it to simmer for a few hours. I spent the next three hours on deck cleaning up a scene that would keep the best TV CSI investigators confused. I don’t remember there being that much of a struggle, and I was never able to untangle the cord on the spear gun. I’ll just have to get another one, I suppose.

Anyhow, I went below to taste the bird. I got my bone knife out and cut a small chunk off. After about five minutes of chewing my jaw was starting to cramp. This bird would have to cook a bit longer. I remember my Grandma using an ad hoc pressure cooker of sorts once. She put a couple of bricks on the pot lid to speed up cooking. Not having any bricks handy, I used some stainless steel safety wire and secured the lid in place.

About a half hour later I was up on the bow splicing a jib sheet that had previously broken when I heard the loud pop. Running to the galley I discovered that the pot had literally blown its lid. The safety wire had held but split the lid right in the middle. The sea gull was lodged in the open portlight over the galley stove. The carrots, mushrooms, beans and onions had long since merged into a gooey greasy biomass which had coated  the underside of the companion way hatch cover.

“Should be done now!” I said to myself and proceeded to taste the cooked delicacy.

So then, two major lessons learned.

1. Spearguns are for fish.

2. Never safety wire cooking implements

On a more positive note, the companion way hatch has never leaked since, and if you cut cooked sea gull into 1/4″ strips you can use it to repack your cutlass bearing.

Ahoy,

Capt. Bilgeplug

I was fortunate enough last year to compete in this race to Mexico, and it was the thrill of a lifetime. Stunning night skies followed by brilliant sunrises in the open ocean, it’s when heeling over on a sailboat eclipses all of the world’s problems.

This year, I’m stuck in foreign lands on tasks that are about as opposite from sailing as possible. So, with my computer and imagination, I’m with my crew from last year. I have managed to mentally escape and return to the open ocean, and life is wonderful during this brief respite.

Here is the race report so far.

Monday 26 April 2010 10 AM positions

The Elice II owned by Marlin Brigman departed St. Petersburg Fl on the 24th of April 2010 as part of the Regata del Sol, the race to Isla Mujeres Mexico. I’m logged onto the live tracker and have been silently cheering my old shipmates along.  If mental energy can cross oceans and push a sailboat along on a port tack, they should be cutting waves with precision and ease.

The Gulf Stream, which is a strong ocean current, arrives from the south passing between Cuba and Mexico, right along the race course. The current can reach upwards of 3 kts. which, can really slow you down if your heading straight into it. When the boat is traveling at 5.5 kts. and you are heading into a 3 kt. current, well, you’re only moving ahead at 2.5 kts. It can take a long time to get anywhere that slow. (but it’s a sailboat, one of the slowest forms of transportation around, so what do you expect)

http://cloud.iboattrack.com/r/google_view.php?r=2010_regatadelsol

Monday 26 April 2010 8PM position

Anyhow, the race appears to be on! There are several classes of boats, as all boats are not created equal. The class of Elice II is in is the ‘Cruising B’ class, which groups equal boats together. The Elice is running nose to nose with Nobility, a Morgan OI 41′.

Already in port is the American Spirit, a Beneteau 39OC, which appears to have taken first place in this class. The Elice, a 47′ Catalina, is fighting for second. (last year we took 3rd) I’m sending a lot of mental energy that way my friends…

It appears that the Elice has plotted a course that favors the crossing of the stream a little better than Nobility right now. Nobility took a more northerly course for the race. It will be interesting to see how this plays out.

You can see the stream current indicated by the solid black lines running north with the speed listed next to them. If the wind keeps blowing, Isla Mujeres should come into view with the sunrise in the morning.

Yucatan Channel currents

Good luck my friends~

http://www.isla-mujeres.net/home.htm

Approaching St. Petersburg from Tampa Bay you will see the Pier sticking out in its colorful upside down pyramid. At night the place is lit up with some really nice effects. The building changes colors and is always alive with activity. Downtown is just as pretty. The buildings are illuminated and the streets busy, yet peaceful enough to enjoy.

Vinoy Basin looking out towards the entrance

When you approach the basin you will slide along the right side of the Pier and pass the small beach on the left. The entrance is well marked and plenty deep. I’ve never had a problem with shallow water here. Sailboats with 6′ drafts will find the entrance easy to navigate.

Once inside the basin the water is an average of 10′ deep. I like to take the first left into the basin and anchor along the seawall. The bottom holding is tricky here, as in the entire basin. The bottom is covered with silt and takes a little work to set the hook.

We came in and dropped my Danforth anchor with about 50′ of 10mm chain. The Admiral backed down on the engine and we got a pretty good set the second time. The stern was pointing at downtown and we had plenty of distance from the wall.

The Admiral had a hankering from ice cream, and who was I to argue. We dropped the dink in the water and loaded up the outboard and other necessaries. We started up the new video camera and went on a short tour. This little camera is waterproof, so no worries there.  

It was decided that the best plan of action was to motor up to the pier and get ice cream there. We could visit downtown a little later. The weather was so perfect that we dare not waste any time on the sidewalk. Ice cream and a dinghy tour was the plan of the day.

The opposite side of the Pier has public (free) docking. The docks are in poor shape so don’t leave your dink there without proper tying up. Use caution as sharp pieces of rebar are exposed in some areas. I remained with the dinghy while the Admiral ran into the building for the snacks.

One of the treats here is a never ending dolphin show. The frequent the waters of the pier and are usually feeding somewhere in the area. I can’t recall a time that we came out this way and didn’t get a dolphin show. They slap the water to stun the bait fish or jump and land sideways stunning the food. They are always interesting to watch.

When we came back the wind had shifted 180 degrees. It was enough to break my anchor loose from the silty bottom. The AbbyGale drifted towards the seawall but stopped when the keel kissed the soft bottom. You won’t smack the concrete here as the rising bottom will stop the boat first. One of the advantages to this corner.

We moved the big boat away from the seawall and reset the anchor. We did get a better set this time as full reverse didn’t move us an inch, and the wind was expected to stay in the same direction the rest of the night.

There is a wonderful little dinghy dock in the basin (opposite of the marina) where you stick a few dollars in the honor can to tie up. From there it is a very short walk to enough restaurants and shopping to satisfy any ships crew.

It’s truly one of my favorite stops. If you see us here, stop in and say hello. Below is a nice little video of the anchorage coming out into the bay. There are some dolphins feeding again as well.

Enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OefQnFHYVQM

I could sure use some advice. None of my friends in the marina are willing to get involved, or offer any advice.

You see, I don’t seem to get enough time hanging out at my boat. When I’m at home my wife keeps me hopping with a list of chores. Mow the lawn, paint the garage floor, bury the dead cat; the usual. I thought I bought the boat for a bit of rest and relaxation, but when we get to the marina, it’s just another long list of chores. Mop the deck, fix the lights, throw out the dead baitfish…

I’m starting to not like my boat, or the marina anymore. It just seems wrong somehow…

Can you help?

Jerry Kann

m/v ‘T-Back’

Dear Jerry,

First, I see that you have a powerboat by your signature, m/v (motor vessel). I do like the name, ‘T-Back’. Is she named after your wife? We like to publish photos here on the blog, so if you could send some along…

Now then, onto your dilemma. Motorboaters are a strange and odd bunch. Too much torque mixed with exhaust fumes I think. It’s not surprising you have to turn to a ‘blow-boater’ for advice. We have a section in my marina where the motorboats are sequestered. We do often find ourselves avoiding that side of the marina unless we are missing something.

It’s apparent that you need to spend some time at the marina with your boat alone to begin healing. It can be a delicate maneuver separating yourself from the Admiral without drawing suspicion. They have a keen eye for any kind of a con involving going to the boat without them. Therefore it is imperative that you get her to think it’s her idea to stay home while you go to the marina.

Grab a cordless drill, some bits, your tool bag, and snatch one of the pretty guest towels from the bathroom.

“Ummm, what do you think your doing with that towel?” she will ultimately ask.

“I have to fix the flangeulator in the bilges. Remember the noise you told me about the last time we were out?” Look very concerned at this point. “I need you to hold the rhumb line while I lube it with relative bearing grease. If you cover yourself with this towel you won’t get any grease on your shirt.”

“What??? I can’t get greasy, I just had my nails done.”

“It will come out with some MEK, just soak your nails in it, oh- and can I use that tupperware bowl?”

Success comes as she is yanking the towel out of your hand. “Not that towel you don’t, and you will have to find one of your play friends at the marina to get all greasy.”

“But honey, nobody there works for free, I’ll have to buy somebody some beer just to get them to help. Wouldn’t it be cheaper to just have your nails done over?”

By now you should find yourself standing in the driveway with an old towel, beer money, and permission to be late. So, head for the boat, have a couple of cold beers, and take a nap while listening to some Buffett. The tide will have changed and you will once again be happy with your boat.

Ahoy,

Capt. Bilgeplug

After a rather long and cold winter (40′s & 50′s) the temps are finally coming back up to something livable. Once your blood is thinned by the Florida climate it becomes painfully difficult to endure anything below 60 F.

The good folks at the Boca Ciega Yacht Club decided that some innocuous spit of land in Clearwater would be a great place for the club cruisers to gather for the weekend. The sandy spot is what is known as a ‘spoil’ island. It is entirely manmade by dredging out the Intercoastal Waterway. All the dredged up sand has to go somewhere.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhxqaV6561s

I didn’t know it had been given a name, nor could I find a name for it on a chart. One day I’ll find out the story behind the name, there must be one. It is impossible to lose anyone, or anything on the island. It’s simply not that big. The one lone tree on the island does not provide summer shade for anything more than three birds and a couple of turtles.We did find one Jellyfish washed up. I’ve never seen a Jelly like this one before.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jdGkTBtX7hs

There is nothing particularly spectacular about this article, except that it was just a wonderful cruise.

We sailed out in the Gulf of Mexico northward along the western coast of Florida. The weather was perfect, the seas calm and the winds light. It was a beautiful day. We looked at the masses gathered on the beach’s and could hear remnants of live bands every now and then.

14 boats showed up for the cruise. We all anchored and took dinghy’s to shore. Some folks brought firewood, some brought snacks. Everyone brought a good time. It’s the beginning of sailing season and a great way to start the summer.

I was asked about how long it would take to get to where we were going.

My answer was, “I got where I was going when I stepped onto the boat.”

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.