On the hard in Titusville

We arrived in Titusville, Florida on Sunday, October 18th. The wind was blowing about 20 knots, which made anchoring rather tricky.

Sunshine was bucking like a bronco and the wind was blowing us backward at about 4 knots as we let out the anchor. Phil was trying to balance on the bow as he monitored the chain coming out. I was at the helm, trying without much success to keep our backward motion to a minimum. The anchor caught suddenly and the boat jerked to a stop, nearly flipping Phil overboard.

We were glad when we got back inside the cabin and were able to settle in for the night.

By Monday morning, the wind had calmed and we dinghied ashore to Westland Marina, where we planned to have Sunshine hauled out of the water for a couple of weeks.

We checked in at the office and arranged the haul-out for Wednesday morning. Then, we took a short tour of Titusville in the car that our good friend Rich Tanner had kindly left for us to use. Rich, owner of a PDQ 36 named Feral Cat, had spent the summer at Titusville but headed south before we arrived.

In it's heyday, Titusville was home to most of the people who worked at nearby Cape Canaveral. NASA's diminished role in the last few years has taken a toll on this once flourishing town, but it still has the basic cruising necessities: a WalMart, a West Marine, and a boatyard with a lift to haul out our catamaran, and that allows you to remain on your boat and, most important, allows you to do your own work.

Marinas can make more money using their own employees to work on boats. As a result, do-it-yourself boatyards are becoming rare, and Westland Marina is one of the few remaining.

We were up early on Wednesday, getting ready for our haul-out. We motored Sunshine into the marina and tied up at the designated dock. When the traveling lift was in place, the dock workers pulled Sunshine into place. Slings were placed under the boat in front and back of her keel and she was hoisted up out of the water.

The travel lift carried Sunshine to an empty spot in the boatyard and lowered her so that she was resting on her keels, with two jacks in back to balance her 8,000 pounds.

We are able to live on board with most of the comforts of home, except for the head (bathroom). The bathhouse is a short walk away, so we are not suffering much.

We have been "on the hard," as they say, for a week and a half. Phil has completed sanding, priming and painting the bottom and I am working on buffing and waxing the hulls above the newly painted bottom.

We'll be out of the water for a few more days before we get "splashed," then plan to remain at anchor here at Titusville while we provision for our trip south, eventually winding up at West Palm Beach for Thanksgiving with family.

We are pleased with the results of our first major do-it-yourself project on Sunshine.

Margaret

SUNSHINE IS ON THE MOVE!

Wednesday morning, October 15, 9:30 a.m., we untied the dock lines and backed Sunshine, our 36' catamaran, out of her slip at Brunswick Landing Marina and headed south.

After a month and a half docked at Brunswick, just north of the Georgia-Florida line, we had grown soft and lazy. We had indulged in hot showers, letting the water run and run, free laundry, cable television, nightly cocktail parties on Dock 10, and our car only a few yards away, ready for a quick trip to WalMart or West Marine.

Mid-October was bringing a chill to the night air and we had promised ourselves to always be where the butter melted, so it was definitely time to begin our trek south, first to Florida and then to the Bahamas, where we planned to spend the winter.

We had spent the summer back home in Greenwood, Indiana. While in Indiana, we visited the Sailrite sewing machine factory in Churubusco, near Ft. Wayne, and purchased a sewing machine designed to make and repair sails and do canvas work.

All serious cruisers have Sailrites. With this marvelous machine, you can sew up to eight layers of canvas! It's definitely not a sewing machine for wusses.

My first project on the Sailrite was to make dinghy chaps (see photo). Inflatable dinghy's are like a car for cruisers. The dinghy is how you get from the boat to shore when you are anchored out. UV rays damage rubber dinghy's, so wise cruisers put coats on their dinghys, called "chaps." Chaps also prevent passengers from getting the dreaded "dinghy butt."

My friend Val, from La Buena Vida, encouraged me to make the chaps. She had made a set for her own dinghy. She got the fabric for me (Sunbrella) at a great price and gave me advice on how to make a pattern and fit the chaps to the dinghy. It was a week-long project, but when I was finished, the dinghy had a new coat.

A neighboring cruiser saw our dinghy chaps and said he had thought about buying some, but the price was $600. If our dinghy chaps are worth $600, we've nearly paid for our Sailrite already!

The second project was a screen for our companionway (another photo), which is the main door to our cabin, That project took only one day to complete and keeps the bugs out.

Our first day of travel took us outside into the Atlantic. Our traveling companions, Harold and Val on La Buena Vida, could not use the Intracoastal Waterway because their mast is too tall (66') to fit under some of the bridges and their draft (6') is too deep for the shallow ICW. Sunshine's mast is only 58' and our draft is less than 3'.

We had a fine wind and made good time with our sails up and the motor running, but the motion of the large waves and swells made both Phil and me a little green around the gills, so to speak, for most of the afternoon. Sometimes it takes a day or two to get used to the sea again after you've been away.

We anchored for the night in the shelter of Cumberland Island. The next morning, we decided to take the ICW and parted company with our friends on La Buena Vida.

The next two days on the ICW were calm and quiet. We motored seven or eight hours each day and found nice, quiet anchorages each night. Last night, we anchored in sight of the remains of Ft. Matansas, built by the Spanish in 1740 to try to keep the English from advancing down into Spanish-held Florida.

The ICW is not as fast as going "outside," but the scenery is incredible and the ride is fairly smooth. Some have described the ICW as how America looked before it was developed. There are no fast food restaurants, no filling stations, or malls, or subdivisions. In some places, especially in Georgia, you can travel for miles without seeing a house.

Now that we are in Florida, we see more homes, lots of other boats, and many people fishing. Wildlife is everywhere, including Great Egrets, Great Blue Herons, brown pelicans, white pelicans, gulls, terns, and ospreys by the dozens. Yesterday, I even saw a huge wood stork fishing along the water's edge. Dolphins play around the boat.

As I write this post, it's Saturday morning, October 18th. We are beginning our fourth day on the water. The weather has been beautiful and all the systems on the boat are working well. We should be in Titusville, by tomorrow afternoon.

Margaret