Paradise Found

After nearly losing our boat at the Atlantic Avenue Bridge earlier on Thursday, we dropped the hook about 4:00 p.m. that evening in a quiet, protected anchorage at Lake Sylvia in downtown Ft. Lauderdale.

We discovered both new and old friends there.

The old friends were Rick and Mary from Tranquillity, the couple who had circumnavigated the globe and whom we had met a couple of weeks earlier at our Lake Worth anchorage.

The new friends were Don and Diane of Fitzcat, a PDQ 36 just like our boat. There aren't many PDQ 36's out there, and Phil had gotten advice from Don on the phone a few weeks ago when we had an engine problem. But we had never met them. Here they were anchored next to us at Lake Sylvia! We spent an enjoyable evening getting to know them. They have lived on their boat for eight years and had many wonderful stories to tell.

We knew we had to go "outside" between Ft. Lauderdale and Miami, because there is a fixed bridge, the Julia Tuttle, inside on the Intracoastal Waterway, with only 57' of clearance. Our mast would likely not fit under it.

We listened to the weather reports and it looked like Monday would be the first day with northerly winds. Until then, winds were predicted from the south, which would make a rough trip.

Lo and behold, Rick and Mary called us early Saturday morning and said the weather report had changed and it looked like calm seas with winds from the east between Ft. Lauderdale and Miami. Rick and Mary planned to exit to the Atlantic at the Everglades Inlet just north of us and motor the 25 miles to Miami. They invited us to follow them if we wished.

We jumped at the chance to experience our first "outside" trip with veteran cruisers like Rick and Mary. We upped the anchor around 9:15 and followed them out of Lake Sylvia and through the Everglades Inlet.

It was a little "bumpy" as we exited the cut to the Atlantic, especially with a huge container ship entering the channel as we exited. But we held our own and followed Rick and Mary due east until we were about 1-1/2 miles offshore. Then we headed south at a heading of 180 degrees.

The first half of the trip was exhilarating. We could see Miami, even make out people sunbathing on the beach. They were only dots, but we could clearly see them.

As we moved south, the wind picked up and the seas became "bumpier."

Within an hour, we had 20 knots of wind on our nose, causing waves in the 3-5' range. Our row of books in the salon tumbled to the floor. Cabinets that weren't secure opened up, spilling out their contents. The HD TV, attached by an arm to the wall of the salon, began to move back and forth in a dangerous arc.

Phil found bungie cords to secure the television and we took turns going inside to pick up items that had fallen and secure them. In the cockpit, the turbulence soon forced us to wedge ourselves in with a foot here and a strong arm there. We took turns at the helm, giving each other needed breaks.

Amazingly, during this rough ride, we caught two good-sized fish on a trolling line we had set off the back of the boat. One was a Tunny and the other was a Spanish Mackerel. Somehow, we managed to fillet them en route and put them in the fridge.

We made it to the Miami Inlet about 3:30 p.m. and turned west into the channel that would take us back inside. As we turned, another huge container ship was heading toward us, needing the middle of the channel for water deep enough to float. We edged over to the right as far as we could, watching Tranquillity in front of us bobbing and weaving precariously close to the container ship.

At the same time, high-powered pleasure boats were entering and exiting the same channel with little regard for the turbulence they created. It took us nearly an hour to reach calmer water and head south. We anchored near the Eddie Rickenbacker Bridge a couple of miles inland and were thankful for a respite from the excitement.

Early the next morning, Tranquillity left for points south. We took our time and upped the anchor about 9:30 a.m. and headed south into Biscayne Bay.

A couple of hours later, we found an anchorage at a place called Dinner Key. There are many boats anchored here, including several catamarans.

Biscayne Bay is paradise if there ever was one. The water is like glass first thing in the morning. Later on, the winds pick up and sailboats appear everywhere. Biscayne Bay is a huge, protected area south of Miami where you can sail to your heart's content. The water is 8-10 feet deep throughout the bay, protected from the Atlantic by the upper Florida Keys. It's a perfect place for us.

As I write this post, the skies are blue, the temperature is about 80 degrees, there is a wonderful refreshing wind across our bow, and life is good.

It took some effort and interesting experiences to get here, but Biscayne Bay is everything we hoped for.

We will now learn how to sail this boat!

An event that almost ended our trip

We left Palm Harbor Marina in Palm Beach on Wednesday and headed south again. The most significant factor in this part of the Intracoastal Waterway is the large number of drawbridges.

We encountered five of them between the marina and our Wednesday night anchorage in Lantana, Florida. Four of the five did not open on request, but were restricted to every 30 minutes. Sometimes, that meant "treading water" for a while until it was time for the bridge to open. That was good practice for both of us.

Thursday's trip to Ft. Lauderdale required that we pass under 15 more bridges. Thirteen of them were restricted. Number four, the Atlantic Avenue Bridge, was the one that nearly ended our trip.

I was at the helm. When we were in sight of the bridge, I hailed the bridge tender on our VHF radio to let him know we were nearing the bridge. There was a three-decker tour boat in front of us, who also hailed the bridge tender. The tender acknowledged both of our calls.

As we approached the bridge, I notified the tender again that Sunshine was right behind the tour boat. Again, the tender acknowledged my call.

The tour boat started under the bridge. The tour boat captain and the bridge tender were in conversation on the VHF. As the tour boat cleared the open bridge and we started through, I saw the spans begin to come down.

I grabbed the VHF and yelled, "Hold the bridge, hold the bridge. We are coming through." At the same time, I jammed the engines into reverse, although in reality it was too late for us to stop in time.

As we looked up in terror, waiting for the bridge to begin crumpling our mast, the spans stopped coming down. Our mast slid through the opening...with barely enough room.

As soon as we cleared the bridge, I hailed the tender again and asked, "Did you forget we were there?" He said, "I guess I did. I was talking to the other captain."

I said, "Atlantic Avenue Bridge, you just took about five years off my life." An unidentified voice on the VHF added, "Yes, he took about five years off my life yesterday."

I am trying to do something every day that scares me, as Eleanor Roosevelt suggested. I think I'm covered for the next six months!

Salvation at Palm Beach Marina

I've discovered that nine consecutive days at anchor is my limit, at least until my coping skills improve.

After several days in our wonderful anchorage near the Publix grocery and my brother's home, we had moved to a less protected anchorage about a mile south on Friday afternoon in order to be closer to Cameron, our electrician, who was now scheduled to show up on Saturday.

Friday evening, Cam invited us to join his family and his other clients Mike and Rana for dinner at the Palm Beach Sailing Club. Turns out Mike had graduated from IU Law School at Bloomington just a few years after Phil. Mike's career had been with the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, while Rana had produced and directed documentaries all over the world. Of course, they were also IU basketball fans. We liked them immediately and found a lot to talk about.

Saturday was windy and the boat was rocking and rolling all day. I stared at our huge pile of dirty laundry and our bare cupboards and contemplated how I was going to get that much laundry to shore in the dinghy, locate a laundromat and grocery store within walking distance, then transport the clean clothes and groceries back to the boat in such choppy water.

Cam finished up the electrical work on the boat about 5:00 p.m. on Saturday. That evening, we dinghied ashore to meet Mike and Rana at a local sports bar to watch IU beat Michigan State. By the time we returned to the boat it was almost midnight. The wind was beginning to pick up and the dinghy ride was bouncy and damp. That night the boat was pitching so much I couldn't sleep. About 3:00 a.m., I moved to the settee, where I could see out the back of the boat and at least know that we weren't dragging the anchor.

Sunday morning, the lack of sleep and the daunting domestic tasks were getting the best of me. I got out my journal and that's when I realized we had been at anchor for nine straight days. Phil sensed my distress and said, "Why don't we check into a marina for a day or two."

Of course! That was the answer! I jumped at the suggestion. We pulled the anchor before noon and traveled about a mile south to Palm Harbor Marina, where Mike and Rana had already been docked for a couple of months while Cam worked on major problems on their boat.

Palm Harbor Marina is in the heart of West Palm Beach. The beautiful downtown area is just a short walk away, with wonderful restaurants, shops, museums, and galleries. The marina has four washers and six dryers, plus hot showers with unlimited water. It's a little pricey, but a marina every nine days is within our budget.

My spirit is revived. The clothes have been washed and put away. Our electrical problems have been fixed. Tonight, we'll meet Mike and Rana at a local pub to watch IU take on Purdue. Tomorrow morning, I'll walk across the Flagler Memorial Bridge to the Publix Supermarket and replenish the cupboards.

I plan to work toward gaining the skills I need to be less "marina-dependent," but for now, I need a marina fix every week or so.

The first two pictures are Sunshine in her berth at the marina and the view from the marina of beautiful downtown West Palm Beach.

The third picture is one of the two splices I made today in our anchor line. Splicing line is an ancient art that involves re-weaving rope around a loop or a metal thimble to make a strong connection. I have been studying line splicing and this was my first completed splice. May not look that difficult, but I practiced a long time to figure out how to do it and was very proud of my new skill.

Tom and Roberta, good weather and the sailing club

On Tuesday, our very dear cousins, Tom and Roberta Green, drove over from their vacation home in Venice on the west coast to visit us here on the east coast (note picture of Roberta driving the boat).

They live in Indianapolis, where Tom works for SBC and Roberta works at St. Francis South Campus.

We had lunch on shore, then dinghied to the boat and took them on a two-hour trip to see the local sights. Tom and Roberta have been following our blog faithfully and I think secretly hoped to be mentioned in this post.

Visiting us on board, especially when you have to drive three hours to get here, automatically qualifies you for being highlighted in this blog.

Wednesday we had a farewell lunch with my brother, Allen and his wife, Dorie, at a local seafood restaurant, a pre-celebration of Allen's birthday on Valentine's day. We have enjoyed visiting with them and meeting lots of their interesting friends.

That evening, we dinghied to shore for dinner at Duffy's Sports Bar, where we had previously determined we could watch the IU-Wisconsin basketball game. As we entered the bar area, we noted a couple of women wearing IU shirts. We stopped to visit with them and they invited us to sit with them to watch the game. They were from the east side of Indianapolis. Our whooping and hollering wasn't enough for an IU win, but we enjoyed watching the game with "home-town" folks.

Today (Thursday) we worked on projects until lunchtime, then "upped the anchor" to leave our beloved North Lake Worth anchorage and headed about an hour south to a new anchorage be near our electrician in the morning.

By the way, on the way south we stopped to top off our diesel and water tanks. Sweating bullets, I approached the North Palm Beach Marina fuel dock. After making a 180-degree turn in the middle of the channel I slowly brought the boat around, then slid gently alongside the dock on the starboard side, inspiring awe on the part of the young dock hand who assisted us. My confidence is building.

We are now anchored just south of Peanut Island in the middle of Lake Worth. As I was writing this post, Phil called me to the back deck to watch a gaggle of small sail boats entering the anchorage. Each small boat had one occupant who appeared to be middle-school age. There were about 30 boats flooding our anchorage. I'm guessing they are sailing students from the Palm Beach Yacht Club, which is across the channel from our anchorage. I shot several pictures as they practiced their sailing skills.

Life is good,
Margaret

It blew like crazy, but we're still here

It's daylight, the anchor is still holding, and there's no apparent damage. But it was a wild night.

Early in the evening, after my "storm" post yesterday afternoon, we had some wind and rain for an hour or so, then it calmed down. We had dinner and went to bed early. Just as we were getting to sleep, the wind began to howl and the boat started to pitch back and forth.

We began hearing noises we hadn't heard before. Some sounded like metal scraping on metal, causing me to get up more than once to make sure that we hadn't drifted into another boat.

The wind noises increased, as did the pitching and rolling of the boat. Soon there were waves slapping loudly against the hulls, making it impossible to sleep.

I got out of bed and relocated to the settee, where I could see out the back. My view changed as the boat swung on the anchor, back and forth. With each swing, I could see that we were in the same position relative to other boats, which was comforting.

Although the movement of the boat was uncomfortable, the strange noises were the most unnerving. The "thwap" of the waves hitting the boat, the sounds of metal on metal, the howling of the wind and the creaks and groans from within the boat all combined to keep me wide awake.

The worst part of the storm lasted until around midnight. As the wind settled down and the noises began to subside, I went back to bed. That's when the hard rain began. It seemed as if the sky had opened up and was pouring tons and tons of water directly on us. I kept thinking, "It can't rain any harder than this," and then it would rain harder.

Sometime around 1:00 a.m., the rain let up and all was quiet. We slept well until about 7:00.

More storms are forecast for this afternoon as a cold front comes through. I'm not too concerned. Last night was a "confidence-builder," as Phil likes to say.

Is this the Perfect Storm?

It's 4:30 p.m on Tuesday, January 12th. The National Weather Service has issued a severe thunderstorm warning for Palm Beach County until 11:00 p.m....right where we are. There's also a tornado watch in effect. Winds are expected to gust to 60 mph. There will be thunder and lots of lightening.

I'm writing this post to calm myself down.

The rain is coming down in sheets. The boat is rocking and rolling. It's our first big storm aboard Sunshine.

We had planned to have dinner tonight with my brother and his wife. We dinghied to shore right after lunch to run some errands. Even then, there were white caps and the dinghy ride in was pretty choppy, but we made it safely, just a little damp. We walked about a mile to West Marine to donate some more of our money, then stopped at Publix grocery to replenish the pantry. The skies were beginning to get dark.

The waves were a little stronger on our way back to the boat and there was light rain. Just as we pulled in to our boat, the skies opened up. By the time we tied up the dinghy and got our purchases aboard, we were soaked to the skin.

After we stowed the groceries and dried off, Phil and I discussed our options. We could probably make it safely back to the dinghy dock in time for Allen and Dorie to pick us up for dinner at 6:00 p.m., but the dinghy ride back to the boat after dinner, in the dark, was problematic.

We could leave the boat and spend the night with Allen and Dorie, but what would happen if the anchor began to drag and we weren't here? We discussed the fact that there were going to be storms and we might as well get used to it. We weren't always going to have a place to run to.

I called Allen and postponed the dinner. We will stay on board for the duration of the storm. We have battened down the hatches and secured everything we can.

I am scared. Always have been scared of severe weather. But there's also something exhilarating about storms.

I'll let you know how this comes out.

Thanks for listening.

Margaret


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Fascinating People and Dinghy Butt

It's been a while since I posted an update, for two reasons. First, we haven't been traveling much, so there haven't been any groundings or scary adventures. Second, we have been busy meeting many interesting people.

We left Ft. Pierce last Monday, after a whirlwind of sightseeing and socializing with the Thompsons. An uneventful four-hour cruise brought us to Palm Beach, where we planned to visit with my brother, Allen and his wife, Dorie.

First, however, we needed to make contact with Cam, our marine electrician. Phil had been communicating with Cam by e-mail and we were eager to meet him. Cam specializes in marine applications of renewable energy. In other words, he could make our auxiliary power more effective.

Our boat is powered by a bank of batteries, aided by solar panels and a wind generator. When we are traveling, the two diesel engines keep the batteries charged. But when we are at anchor for more than a day or two, the batteries drain quickly. We had felt for some time that the four solar panels and the wind generator weren't providing much help.

Cam had given us the latitude and longitude of his anchorage on Lake Worth, where he lives on a boat with his wife Lee, and their two children, six-year-old Maya and four-year-old Fynn. Using our GPS system, we quickly located their boat among the 100 or so boats anchored at Lake Worth.

Cam and his family dinghied over to our boat. The children don't have television on their boat, so I tuned our TV to children's programming and they were mesmerized. With a snack of crackers and juice, they were soon talking of moving onto our boat.

While Phil and Cam talked about electronics, Lee talked about the challenges of raising children on a boat. Maya and Fynn are now in public school, but Lee is considering home-schooling them on the boat. I told her that all the cruising children I had met so far who were home-schooled seemed exceptional, both academically and socially. I'm not sure why.

Phil and Cam arranged that Cam will begin work on our boat next Wednesday (Feb. 13th). That gave us several days to spend visiting with Allen and Dorie. We moved to a marina near their home on Wednesday and spent the next few days enjoying many dinners with them and their friends.

My brother is a retired political science professor and his wife taught high school English in Kokomo. They spend winters in Palm Beach Gardens and have cultivated a fascinating group of friends here. We enjoy several dinner parties with interesting guests.

After a few days, we left the marina and found an anchorage that is also close to my brother's home. It's in a quiet, protected area with about 50 other boats. Best of all, a large grocery is just a dinghy ride and a short walk away.

Speaking of dinghy rides, the more we use the dinghy, the easier it gets for me. At this anchorage, the dinghy dock is a five-minute ride from the boat. There is a small beach and some posts where we can secure the boat.

There was a gentle rain the other evening when we dinghied ashore for a dinner party. I had heard the term "dinghy butt" before, but had never experienced it until that ride in the rain. The seat of my slacks soaked up a good portion of the rain. Spray from your wake can also cause a good case of dinghy butt. I think I'll take along a towel to sit on next time.

We have met cruisers from two other boats since we anchored here. First was a fellow named Jim, on a 47-foot schooner that he built himself. We ran into him on the way to the grocery the other day. He said it took him, his ex-wife and three girlfriends to finish the boat. (I don't think they all worked on it at the same time!) Jim has been cruising for 27 years. He said he raised his daughter on the boat, home schooling her. She graduated from Notre Dame last year.

The next day, as we were walking to West Marine (the boater's favorite store), we met Rick and Mary from Block Island, Rhode Island. They had just finished sailing their 37-foot boat around the world! It took them six years. On the way back from the store, we stopped for a beer at a local pub and got lots of good tips on cruising, plus some wonderful stories.

After our electrical work is done, we may have to go out into the Atlantic for part of our passage south. That should produce some scary stories. Stay tuned.

The pictures above include one of our solar panels, the wind generator, a view of the other boats in our anchorage and the Palm Beach skyline, our dinghy and my latest horticulture experiment, a pot of geraniums.

Do something every day that scares you.

Yesterday, I watched Maria Shriver's speech on television endorsing Barack Obama. She included a quote from Eleanor Roosevelt: "Do something every day that scares you."

I have always admired the wisdom of Eleanor Roosevelt. In another famous quote, she said, "You must do the thing you think you cannot do." I came across that quote several years ago and pasted copies of it in places where I would see it every day.

That advice has really hit home on this trip. Every day I find myself doing things that scare me, as well as doing things I didn't think I could do. For instance:

--The dinghy scares me. I am ashamed to admit this, but this little inflatable boat that is our "car" is difficult for me to get used to. I know how to swim, but I'm having trouble getting comfortable in this small boat. It's necessary that I get used to it, because when we anchor out, the dinghy is how we get to shore. I will get used to it.

--It scares me to go sleep on an 8,700 pound boat being held in place by single anchor. I get up during the night to make sure we are not dragging the anchor. After I am comfortable that we are in the same place as before, I ask myself "What's the worst that could happen?" Usually, the worst that could happen is that our anchor could drag and we would move a few feet, possibly coming close to another boat anchored nearby. We have anchored 11 times so far, and the anchor has never dragged. I'm becoming less scared each time.

--It scares me to try to dock this 36' by 18' yacht and then help get it securely tied up. My confidence waned a little when I accidently "kissed" a fishing boat as we left our home port on the Ogeechee River. I am slowly getting my confidence back, but often ask Phil to take over when we dock.

--It scares me to try to pull away from a dock without crunching the back of the boat, or going aground (as I did a few days ago). Recently, I've been asking Phil to do this, but I'm getting more confident and will try again to do it myself.

--It will really scare me when we "go outside." For the last 375 miles, we have been in the relatively safe confines of the Intracoastal Waterway, not out on the ocean. We have heard there is a bridge under construction south of here that will force us to leave the safety of the ICW and travel a few miles out into the Atlantic Ocean, then head south to reach Miami. More on that later.

--Learning to sail will scare me. We have very little experience at sailing and we have a lot to learn. As we learn, I will be less scared.

--Our first overnight passage will scare me. When we travel to the Bahamas, there will be some passages from one place to another that cannot be accomplished in one day. It will require that we take shifts at the helm, usually four hours at a time. One person is on watch while the other person sleeps. Many people circumnavigate the globe with month-long passages taking four-hour shifts. I will learn to do overnight passages, but it scares me.

That's enough of the scary stuff. We spent this past weekend anchored at Ft. Pierce, where we had a wonderful visit with our good friends Jeannette and Kenny Thompson, who spend winters in this area.

Today (Monday), we traveled about 40 miles south and are now anchored just north of Jupiter. We have crossed into the area of beautiful mansions along the ICW. Today's scenery was one million-dollar home after another, complete with a $500,000 yacht docked alongside.

Tomorrow, we'll stop to visit with my brother, Allen, and his wife, Dorie, who live in Palm Beach Gardens. We'll also spend an extra few days in this area getting our electrical system worked on.

After that, there will be some more scary things. Stay tuned.

*Note to Barb Robison. Thanks for the e-mail. If we can do this, you and Earl can do it too.

**Note to Aunt Ruth: We are glad you are enjoying our reports. The picture above of "Captain Phil" is for you. Also, for you, picture of Phil pretending to catch huge dorado. This will really happen when we get our fishing licenses.

***Botanical Note: This is an experiment at growing herbs on board: cilantro, oregano, marjoram, thyme. We'll see how this turns out.