Friday, December 25, 2009

"AIN'T NO SUNSHINE WHEN YOU'RE GONE...."

We left our home port of Titusville, Florida on Thursday, December 10th, and headed south on the Intracoastal Waterway. The weather was overcast, windy and threatened rain. It wasn't great traveling weather, but at least the wind was coming from the North, which pushed us along at record speed.

We anchored out each night and in the first three days of traveling had covered 136 miles.

One of our favorite anchorages is at West Palm Beach. It's near the winter home of my brother, Allen, and his wife, Dorie. The night we anchored there, we enjoyed dinner at their home and met Dorie's brother, Jim, and his wife, Geri. It was a great evening.

The next morning, as we pulled our anchor and motored out of the anchorage, a friend on a neighboring boat whom we had just met the night before, stood on the deck of his boat and serenaded us with, "Ain't no sunshine when you're gone..." We chuckled all the way out of the anchorage.

The engines have been overheating at times, for no apparent reason, so we stayed "inside" on the ICW rather than taking the faster route off shore. This section of the ICW has many drawbridges and we had to negotiate 20 of them between Palm Beach and Ft. Lauderdale.

Some of the bridges open on demand, but most have scheduled openings every 30 minutes. The timing is a challenge. If you arrive at a bridge too late, you find yourself treading water for a half hour, waiting for the next opening. On the other hand, it's good practice to attempt to hold 11,000 pounds of boat in one place, especially when there's much wind or current.

We arrived in Ft. Lauderdale with ample time to prepare for a visit from our son, Andy, and his girlfriend, Jill. They flew in from Seattle to spend a few days with us.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

THE BOAT'S JOB IS TO BREAK. YOUR JOB IS TO FIX IT.


The big Travel-Lift came beep-beep-beeping for us about ten days ago.   You've heard that sound that big machines make when they back up.  The Travel-Lift backs up with the slings unhooked in the middle until it straddles the boat, then the two straps of each sling are hooked together under the boat and it is lifted up.  The driver S-L-O-W-L-Y moves the boat to the launching area, drives out on narrow concrete pathways barely wider then the tires, then lowers the boat into the water!

It's always nerve-wracking to watch.  Your home and a good part of your retirement kitty are hanging in the air, supported only by a couple of slings that you hope-to-God are not frayed.   Owners tend to stand close and watch their boats intently, as if there would be something they could do if a sling broke or one wheel of the Travel-Lift missed it's mark and drove off the concrete path into the water.

But none of that happened and we were pulled by hand around the corner to a dock.  Then the hard work began. 

My list included making an awning, called a bmini, to replace the old ragged one that came with the boat.  The bimini shades the cockpit.  I figured it would take about a week to complete.  Phil's list including checking out all the mechanical and electrical systems to make sure everything was in working order. 

Everything wasn't.

First, the port engine wouldn't start.  The starboard engine did start, but soon was leaking oil.  The starboard windlass that drops the anchor and retrieves it did not work.  The gears are not acting like they should.  And, of course, the head was not flushing as it should.  (The head always makes it onto the list.)  All of these things (except the gears) were in good working order when we left the boat last spring.

The boat's job is to break.  Your job is to fix it.

Today is December 3rd.  We need to have all of the items on our lists completed and/or fixed by December 8th in order to have a leisurely trip down to Ft. Lauderdale and get settled in by the time our son, Andy, and his girlfriend, Jill, come to spend some time with us. 

I think we are going to make it with time to spare.  

All the pieces of the bimini have been cut out and I hope to have it all put together in two to three days. 

The oil leak has been fixed.  The alternator on the port engine is being repaired and should be ready for pick-up tomorrow.  Phil has a diesel mechanic on stand-by in case he runs into any problems installing the alternator.  The head has been repaired and is working fine.  The windlass is in pieces on the front deck and the jury is still out on that one.  Fortunately, we have another windlass, which does work, on the port bow which we can use in a pinch.  The gears are still not working like they should.

Phil just read my unfinished blog and pronounced it "somewhat negative."  He's right.  I have been concentrating too much on the things that needed fixing.

Here's what doesn't need fixing:

Every morning I see Osprey sailing overhead with fish in their claws.  They settle on the top of a mast in the harbor and make their Osprey calls. 

Manatees abound in this harbor.  All you have to do is cast your gaze over the water and you'll see that familiar hump of grey emerge, then you can watch the tail appear as it submerges.  Often, in the morning, the water will churn with groups of manatees doing whatever manatees do in large groups.

Occasionally, the eyes of an alligator will appear off in the distance.  Just the eyes, and then a tail about six feet behind the eyes.

We have boat kids here at the marina.  Boat kids are special.  Raised on a boat, they are worldly, interesting, used to adults, and inquisitive about absolutely everything.  Our current boat kids are Maya (aged 7) and Fynn (aged 6), whose parents, Leighia and Cam, sailed here from New Zealand.

The weather is perfect.  High 70's to low 80's most of the time.

We have met many, many friends here who would drop what they are doing at a moment's notice to come to your aid if you needed help.  Tony and Karen, Mike and Rana (fellow Hoosiers), Cameron and Leighia, Don, Doreen, Trishia, Rick, Jerry, Tommy, Glenn, Brian and Sheila, Pam and Yelda, David and Pat, Rito and Sally, Billy, Scott, Kathy and Fred and many more.  Our fellow cruisers are special people.