IT WAS THE BEST OF TIMES, IT WAS THE WORST OF TIMES

Poor Old Boat

Hello to everyone from Isla Mujeres, Quintana Roo, Mexico.  

There were times I wasn't sure we would get here.  This trip was a life lesson that you can do only so much preparation and planning before Mother Nature makes a joke of your efforts.

Updating from the last blog post, we did make the 50-mile trip from Marathon to Key West without incident.  Then we waited out a severe cold front in a protected marina right in the midst of downtown Key West.  Andy and Jill arrived from Seattle during record-setting cold weather and we all hunkered down in the boat.

Wednesday, December 15

We had planned to travel with two buddy boats, Restless Rosie and Perception, but they each were experiencing problems with their boats and decided to postpone their departure.

Weather guru Chris Parker suggested the best time to leave for Mexico was Wednesday, December 15th, so we took his advice.  His report to us included specific waypoints designed to chart us on the safest course best suited to sailing as much as possible.  Wind speeds the first day were supposed to be in the 10-15 knot range.  We should arrive in Isla Mujeres Friday night or Saturday, just ahead of a strong cold front predicted for Saturday afternoon.

Forecasting is perhaps more art than science.  Within an hour of leaving Key West, we were experiencing 27 knot winds on the beam, causing our 36-foot catamaran to pitch wildly from side to side.  The crew began to make trips to the rail.  It only got worse as the trip progressed.  Seas that were predicted to be 3-6 feet were 6-9 feet and confused.  If we weren't being tossed side to side, we were tossed front to back.

Thursday, December 16

Poor davit.  It bent down, bringing the stanchion with it.

By the second day, weariness and seasickness were beginning to take a toll on all of us.  Captain Phil had the worst of it.  Unable to keep down even sips of water, he was showing signs of dehydration.   Then things got even worse.  Late in the afternoon, a loud snap from the back of the boat caught everyone's attention.  Before our eyes, the starboard davit broke off, sending the dinghy stern-first into the water.  As we tried to secure the dinghy in the rocking boat, the port davit followed suit and snapped in two, taking a solar panel with it.  With the turbulence fighting our attempts, we did manage to lash the dinghy to the stern of the boat.

Poor dinghy, after being pulled behind the boat for 300 miles.

On the heels of the dinghy catastrophe, the port engine overheat alarm sounded and we had to shut it down.  The starboard engine continued to run, but the RPM’s rose and fell.

At that point, we decided we could not go on and would have to seek refuge somewhere.  A quick scan of our charts showed a large land mass about 35 miles south, with a deep water protected harbor and no reef to cross.  For future references in this post, we will refer to that land mass as “Atlantis.”

It was dark when we reached the harbor.  There were no lighted markers, so Andy and Jill stood watch with flashlights as we entered.  We soon found a place to anchor off the main channel and for the first time in 24 hours the boat was calm.   Those who were able to eat had a light snack and we prepared for some much-needed rest.

Just as we were all nodding off, there was a loud pounding on the side of the boat.  Andy, who is fluent in Spanish, went out to the cockpit.  Two men in uniform identified themselves as border guards.  They were in a dilapidated rowboat which was missing part of its back transom.  They had rowed from somewhere nearby. 

They asked questions until they had written down everything they could think of to ask us about our boat, then checked our passports and boat documentation.  They finally left and we all fell into bed. 

Thirty minutes later, they were back, asking again to see our passports.  They had neglected to copy down our passport numbers and asked for a sheet of paper to do so.

Friday, December 17

The guards returned at 7:30 the next morning.  This time there were three of them.  They told Andy we were too conspicuous where we were.  This wasn’t a tourist type of harbor and they needed us to move the boat.  They told us to move the boat close to their office so they could keep an eye on us.  We were not to come ashore.  They wanted to know how long it would take to make our repairs and we estimated we could leave by noon.

At 11:45, one of the guards rowed out to our boat to confirm that we were leaving by noon.  Phil had replaced a broken hose clamp on the port engine.  Andy and Jill had retied the dinghy.  I had baked brownies, hoping to improve international relations.  We offered the brownies to the guard, who radioed his boss for permission, but was told he could not accept any gifts. 

We left exactly at noon.  The boat was repaired and we were well rested.  The wind and seas were favorable as we cruised westward along the Atlantis coast.  

By late evening, the seas and wind increased  to the point that we took down the sails and only motored.  We began taking waves over the bow.  Later, to my chagrin, I discovered that I had left a hatch open over the place Phil and I had stored our clean clothes.  Everything was soaked with salt water.

Saturday, December 18

Sometime before sunrise, we heard a friendly voice on the VHF.  It was Alan from Perception, one of our original buddy boats.  He had left Key West several hours after we did, but his boat was slower and he was just catching up with us.  Restless Rosie had gone on ahead and Perception was alone, fighting the same bad weather we were.  Alan has been sailing for several years, but said he had never sailed in weather this bad.  We decided to travel together to Isla Mujeres.

Around mid-afternoon, the RPM’s on both of our engines became unstable, a sure sign of clogged fuel filters.  Phil replaced them, but then neither engine would start!  We were making headway with only the sails, but we had another 24 hours of travel to Isla Mujeres, requiring that we cross the Yucatan Channel, with its strong northerly current.    We also knew that a strong cold front was due in a few hours.

Once again, we took refuge along the coast of Atlantis.  Our cruising guide described a marina on the northwest tip of the island about 12 miles away.  We began sailing in that direction.  

Again, it was dark when we arrived.  Andy hailed the dockmaster on the VHF.  At first he told us we could tie up at the dock, then he called back to say we should anchor for the night and come in to the dock in the morning, when customs officials would be available.

Sunday, December 19

We had a quiet night.  Around 9:00 a.m., we pulled the anchor and headed into the dock, along with Perception.  These Atlantisians were much more welcoming.   This marina was far from civilization and the staff came in for week-long shifts.  They couldn’t have been more helpful.  None of them spoke much English, but Andy was able to communicate well with them and we all quickly became friends.

I knew our families would be getting concerned, so we asked if there was a phone we could use to call home.  The closest phone with long distance capability was at a hotel two miles away.  Andy, Jill and I walked to the hotel to call Andy's brother, Matt, but we were unable to make the connection.  A recorded message said “all lines are busy.”

Back at the boat later, we remembered that Alan on Perception had a SAT phone and we borrowed it to make our call.  As expected, everyone at home was worried about us and I was glad we were able to let them know we were all safe.

The cold front that was forecast came through with a vengeance.   Even though we were tied to the dock, our boats were buffeted by the wind and waves, causing our dock lines to chafe against the jagged concrete dock.  We spent most of the day trying to chafe-guard our lines, without much success.  

Monday, December 20

The dockmaster, who was also a mechanic, came on board to help Phil assess the problem with our engines.  Neither of them made any progress, so the dockmaster called a mechanic and arranged his transportation from 50 miles away.  The mechanic arrived and diagnosed water in the fuel line  In short order, both engines were purring. 

Andy and Jill were scheduled to fly back to Seattle on Wednesday.  Fearing that they might not make their flight if they stayed with us, they decided to make their way to the capitol of Atlantis, about three hours away, where they could catch a flight to Cancun.  They spent the night there and flew to Cancun on Tuesday.  They pleaded hardship with the airlines and were able to delay their flight until Thursday with no extra charge.

Tuesday, December 21

Phil and I left Atlantis around noon, heading due west toward Isla Mujeres. The engines performed well and we motor-sailed through the night, arriving at Isla around 1:00 p.m.  We checked into the Marina Paraiso.  Andy and Jill showed up from Cancun shortly thereafter with news that they were now engaged!   

The Best of Times and the Worst of Times

The engagement news, along with spending time with both of them on this “adventure,” was the best of times.  The trip itself, maybe not the worst of times, but definitely an experience we’ll all remember.

 

Next blog:  Isla Mujeres....worth the trip!

WAITING OUT WEATHER

As I finished our last post we were leaving Marco Island heading south to Marathon.  The first morning, we were bundled up with several layers under our foulies plus hats and gloves.  As the day wore on and the sun came out, we peeled off the layers and enjoyed a beautiful sail with a strong tailwind giving us 7-plus knots at times. 

We pulled into Little Shark River and anchored as the sun was disappearing behind the horizon.  It was  a dark, quiet, eerie night.  There was one other boat anchored downriver from us.  In this part of the Everglades, there are few people, no cell towers and no VHF communication.

Sometime in the middle of the night I began to hear the put-put of a small engine.  I thought it was probably fishermen and tried to go back to sleep.  Then scenes from the movie Deliverance began to flash in my mind.  The engine noise seemed to come from behind the boat, then beside the boat, then in front of the boat.  I listened for any noise that might signal intruders, but soon the engine noise began to fade and then disappeared.  I admonished myself for the wild imagination and went back to sleep.


Up early the next morning we ate breakfast underway and had another fine sailing day, reaching the Keys at mid-afternoon.

We are currently moored at Boot Key Harbor in Marathon.  It's a lovely protected harbor in the Middle Keys, about 50 miles east of Key West.  See

www.ci.marathon.fl.us/index.aspx?NID=26 and
www.bootkeyharbor.com.

We are experiencing a string of bad weather days.  "Come on," I hear you say.  "It's minus 20 degrees here in Indiana with five feet of snow and you're complaining about 60 degrees and high wind."

Well, here's my answer.   if you're living in the north country, you expect bitter cold weather.  If you have come to the tropics for the winter, you expect good weather, at least most of the time.  It's all in the expectations.

Our normal sunny blue skies and 80 degree 
weather have morphed into cold and windy.

We did have some beautiful days until about a week ago.  Since then, two cold fronts have come through almost back to back and we are expecting the daddy of all cold fronts on Sunday.  It's early for this kind of weather in Florida, with fronts coming one on top of the other. 

Our son Andy and his girlfriend Jill are due to arrive at the same time as the cold front on Sunday.  We are hoping for a break in the bad weather so we can all sail to Mexico next week.  Time will tell.  If we can't go to Mexico while Andy and Jill are here, I hope at least to have some warm weather for them.

In the meantime, we are busy with boat projects.  Phil is installing LED lights in the state room.  They draw much less power than regular lights.  I am updating my blog, baking brownies and researching marinas in Key West. 

Baking brownies serves two purposes.  Good to eat 
and the oven makes the boat toasty warm.

Initially, we planned to stay on a mooring ball there, but the Key West mooring field has no protection from the north. Thirty-five knot winds from the north are forecast on Sunday, which would make for a bouncy night or two out on the water and a soaking, cold dinghy ride to go ashore.

All this assumes we can get a break in the weather to sail Sunshine to Key West, about 50 miles west of here.  If that doesn't happen, we'll rent a car and pick up the kids at the airport on Sunday.


In the meantime, we'll pray to the weather gods and I'll keep baking brownies.

NOTHING COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG NOW!

Rather than talk about what has broken, let me tell you what is fixed. The head is fixed. The engines are fixed. The alternator is fixed.  The freon leak in the refrigerator is fixed.   And as I write this, Phil is installing a new line on the jib to replace one that had frayed.  

So let the fun begin.   

Early tomorrow morning (Phil says "at sparrow fart"), we plan to depart Factory Bay and head south to the Little Shark River, about 40 miles away. Loyal blog readers will remember the Little Shark River as the place where we were stranded for several days last spring.   I hope to spend only one night there this time and be on our way the next morning.  
Saturday we'll continue heading south to Boot Key Harbor at Marathon, another 50 miles or so. The weather forecast is for north to northwest winds for the next two days. Since we are going south, we should make good time with the wind behind us.  
 I'm a little hesitant to say where we are headed because our experience has been that wherever we are headed, the wind is always on our nose. We are convinced that the weather forecast changes based on where we are trying to go, with the result that the wind is always against us. So please keep our plans to yourself. 
In a recent post, I showed "before" pictures of our boat when we first arrived at Snead Island.  Below are the "after" pictures that I promised. 

Here is the galley, all cleaned up

Our stateroom, ready for tired sailors

This is the companionway (wish I could figure out how to flip this picture)

The cockpit

The salon, our living room

WHY ARE YOUR STORIES USUALLY ABOUT THINGS THAT BREAK?

One of the lessons we have learned in our four seasons on the boat is that things break...all the time. Some of our land-based friends and family have questioned whether we are not more prone than others to mechanical misfortunes. Some have even questioned whether we are ready to give up this cruising life and settle down on land where things don't break as often.

It's hard to convince some people that fixing things on your boat is part of the fun and adventure.

Our dear cruising friend Chris Erickson penned this eloquent explanation. With her permission I share it with you in the hope that the non-believers will begin to understand:

Definition of cruising: "Fixing your boat in exotic ports of call"

Dear Non-cruisers: imagine your house, your lovely house, with fully equipped kitchen, bathrooms, bedrooms, living room, spectacular outdoor patio, and deck.

With your house comes a sewage treatment plant, your own electrical grid, water tanks, and fuel. Now imagine that house being rocked side-to-side, front to back, leaned, pivoted, and quite often dropped (off waves) in varying degrees of severity 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Oh yeah--and it is sitting in sea water whose only job is to seize, rust, oxidize, and eventually eat everything around you.

Now--how long do you think your house can take it before things start to break? Even brand new boats require constant attention. Sailboats even more than motor boats because of so many moving parts.

It's impossible to stay ahead of it all. So--the endeavor of cruising takes a certain personality type. It takes someone who can embrace their inner project junky and find challenge, humor, and a good story in the mishaps and mis-adventures.

When cruisers get together, do you really think they talk about how last night's sunset compared to the one the night before? No! They exchange stories of battles won with a recalcitrant head ("toilet" to landlubbers), struggles with an engine, near-misses in the dark, lines wrapped around props, ant invasions, ripped sails, dead electronics, and on and on.

It's the stuff that goes WRONG that makes good stories! It may not be what you want to deal with at the time, but it is the triumphs over the trials that you remember as much as the beautiful locations, great sails, and new friends. Take heart, Landlubber friends; cruisers aren't complaining. Engine woes et al are just part of a good tale being told.

Keep the tales coming Margaret!

Thanks,Chris. You bet I will.

CRUISING IS FIXING YOUR BOAT IN EXOTIC PLACES

As we sailed out of Snead Island Boat Works the sun was shining and the sky was blue. There was a light breeze and all was right with the world. For about 15 minutes. Then the overheat alarm sounded on the ystarboard engine.

We ended up anchoring for the night within view of the boatyard we had just left. The next morning we tried again with the same result. Phil even tried removing the thermostat. No help.

We headed south down the Intracoastal Waterway on one engine. As we traveled, we began to notice that the head (toilet) was not working properly. Soon it wasn't working at all. Things were getting serious now. In two days we arrived at Naples, where we were able to secure a mooring ball for only $10 per night, which includes shower and restroom facilities and laundry.

We have found a diesel mechanic to fix the engine and Phil is quickly becoming an expert at head repair. Why does Phil get stuck repairing the head, I hear you say? Well, it's because on a cruising boat there are blue jobs (for boys) and pink jobs (for girls). Repairing the head is a blue job. Normally, I would complain that was a sexist approach to job sharing. This time, however, I'm not saying a word.

There are no pictures this time. I'm sending this from my smart phone and I'm not smart enough yet to know how to put the pictures in.

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!

Margaret

HALLELUJAH...THE ANTS ARE GONE!

No sign of any ants this morning.  I even got up around 2:00 a.m. and inspected the entire boat with my flashlight.  Not an ant to be seen anywhere.  We bow in respect to the manufacturers of Terro Ant Killer.


The major work is finished.  The boat is clean, the motors have been tested, sails have been checked, chartplotter works, radar works.  We made our second provisioning trip to WalMart yesterday and have enough food for several weeks.


I'm looking forward to a weekend of rest.  We'll take care of last minute boat jobs, do some laundry and watch the Colts play on Sunday.  On Monday, we'll set sail south, destination Key West.

We have several friends to visit along the way and hope to share Thanksgiving with my brother Allen and his wife Dorie.  They are in Palm Beach Gardens and have offered to drive over to meet us wherever we are anchored by Thanksgiving.


Go Colts.

--Margaret

THE ANT WAR CONTINUES...

The large ants appear to be gone; however during the night last night, the tiny ants regrouped and invaded the boat en masse.  Hordes of the little devils made a dark, throbbing line between our state room and the head.

I happened to notice them about 2:00 a.m.  Armed with a flashlight and my trusty ant spray, I caught them unawares.

We see no more alive this morning, but we are headed to Home Depot for a product called "Terro" which, according to several sources on the boating forums will rid the boat of ants once and for all.

Once this ant problem is resolved, we can finish up our work and get underway.  Then I'll have more interesting and exotic topics to write about than ants.

BIG ANTS AND LITTLE ANTS

As we were getting the boat cleaned up and stowing things away, we noticed lots of tiny little ants in the salon and the state room.  I checked outside and found a steady stream of them crawling along the electrical cord that extends from the boat to the hookup on land.

We got some ant spray and ant traps, and sprayed where we had seen them, and soon most of them had disappeared.  We're still seeing an occasional tiny ant, but I think we've won that war.

Yesterday, I found three large ants on our bunk (fortunately, they were on Phil's side of the bed).  I dispatched them with a Kleenex.  A few hours later, there were three more large ants, right in the same place.  And then three more, and then nine more, and this morning, nine more again. (Wonder if it means anything that there are always multiples of three.)

We figured they must be dropping down from the ceiling, so today Phil opened a section of the headliner above where we were finding the ants and shot ant spray inside.  Scores of ants fell onto the towel we had spread out on the bed.  As he removed the headliner there were many more ants, plus white pods that resembled the pods on Invasion of the Body Snatchers, only smaller.

Everything is cleaned up now and no more ants have appeared.  We are leaving the headliner off for a while to let things air out and to be sure there are no stragglers. 

And you thought the cruising life was just white sand beaches, gin clear water and sundowners.

WHAT A MESS!

The cockpit is where the "stuff" first lands as we empty
the car.  Notice the captain checking to see if the dinghy
will hold air and float.

Usually when we return to the boat after it's been on land for the summer it needs a little sprucing up, but not a major cleaning.  I don't know why, but this year the boat needs much more than sprucing up.  It needs deep cleaning, inside and out.

The car was loaded to the gills on the trip from Indiana to Florida.  It was so full that we had to stuff in the last items and close the doors very quickly so nothing fell out. 

We've been here two days.  I've cleaned the salon and the galley and Phil has brought the last items from the car.  He has also filled the dinghy with air and attached the motor, reinstalled the sails, and is preparing to install the bimini (sunshade).

Now we begin the sorting and stowing.

Here is the "before" look:



The galley (kitchen), with a view of the garage.  Not one
empty inch of counter space.







Looking into the state room.  
We were fortunate to
locate the bed last night.

The salon (our living room).



I hope to bring you "after" pictures very soon.







 

TIME FOR A NEW ADVENTURE

If you're new to our blog, welcome!  We are Phil and Margaret McGovern from Greenwood, Indiana.  In 2007, we purchased a PDQ 36 sailing catamaran.  It was our first boat and we didn't know how to sail.  In fact, other than taking a few boating courses in a classroom, we didn't know much about boating at all.  Most people thought we were nuts.

Slowly, with lots of practice, reading and research, and assistance from many cruising friends, we have learned what we needed to know to travel safely, anchor securely, read a chart and plan a trip.  We haven't sunk the boat or damaged another boat (okay, maybe I once put a tiny little scratch on a fancy power boat...but I don't count that).  Most important, we've never lost anyone overboard. 

We have had many wonderful adventures.  Some were scary.  But when we look back, we wouldn't change a thing.

We are about to begin our fourth season of cruising.

Indiana Summer has turned into Fall and it's time for us to go back to the boat.  We'll load the car and head out on Sunday morning, hoping to reach Snead Island Boat Works near Tampa early enough on Monday to get Sunshine splashed and move on board.

It's been a fine summer.  We spent time with our kids, grandkids and siblings.  The grandkids gave the pool a good workout and had some fun sleep-overs.  (What happens at Grandma's stays at Grandma's.)  Phil completely rehabbed two of our rental homes.  We put them on the market, but they didn't sell.  We were able to rent both of them, which is the next best thing.  I pretended to sell commercial real estate, but buyers were scarce. 

With snow flurries predicted this week, we are eager to head South.

Our plan this winter is to stretch our wings a little and have a new adventure.  During the last three winters, we have explored the Bahamas, the Keys, and the east and west coasts of Florida.  It's time for something new and Mexico will be this year's destination.

We will spend a month working our way south from Tampa down to Key West, where our son, Andy, and his girlfriend, Jill, will fly in from Seattle.  If the weather gods smile on us and we get favorable winds while Andy and Jill are visiting, they will join us on a three-day sail to Isla Mujeres, Mexico, a small island just five miles from Cancun on the Yucatan Peninsula.

Stay tuned as we begin Cruising Season Four.

--Margaret

STRANDED IN THE LITTLE SHARK RIVER

(Blogger’s note:  This adventure occurred last month.  We are now safe and sound, our engines have been repaired and we are exploring the Gulf Coast.)


The entire month of January, our 36-foot catamaran, Sunshine, was happily attached to a mooring ball in Boot Key Harbor in the middle Keys, among 250 other boats.  Life was easy there, except for a week of record-setting low temperatures in January that chilled us to the bone. 

Early in February, we decided to head up the Gulf Coast seeking  new adventures.  We left Marathon early one morning, accompanied by good friends and buddy-boaters, Mickey and Lillian, on their boat Carpe Diem.

About an hour into our trip, our port engine alarm began to squeal as black smoke poured from the engine.  We switched off that engine and continued on using only the starboard engine, not losing much speed.

Forty-five minutes later, the starboard engine began to vibrate.  We shut it off and dropped the anchor, glad that we were in fairly shallow water.  We hailed Carpe Diem on the VHF radio to let them know we were dead in the water.

Carpe Diem offered to tow us the 25 miles to Little Shark River, a safe haven in the Everglades wilderness of Southwest Florida where we had planned to anchor that night.  We hooked on tow lines and took off, traveling at 4.5 knots.

By 4:00 p.m. we were still south of the Florida mainland and still 20 miles from Little Shark River.  At that rate, we wouldn’t reach our protected anchorage until well after dark.  A front was moving in from the Northwest later that evening,  bringing strong, gusty winds.  It was not a good time to be out on the ocean.

About that time, a large trawler named Samantha motored by and offered to take over the towing and get us to the lee of Cape Sable, about six miles away, where we would have some protection from the coming storm.  Samantha was headed that way and she had bigger engines that could tow us faster.    We quickly accepted the offer and were soon traveling at seven knots.

Our three boats arrived at Cape Sable after dark.  The winds were beginning to blow.  Samantha pulled us to a good spot and we dropped the tow lines and our anchor.  The wind set the anchor for us.  We were exhausted and fell into bed.

Even with the protection of Cape Sable, the wind and waves tossed us about all night long.  The next morning was clear and sunny, but the winds remained strong. 

Late in the morning, Samantha radioed that it appeared we were drifting.   Our GPS confirmed that our anchor was dragging.  The starboard engine would not start at all, so we fired up the port engine, but it was too weak to overcome the current and wind which were pushing us into shallow water.

Samantha came to our aid again, risking going aground in the shallow water to tow us back closer to the shore.   A close look at our anchor revealed that the shaft had bent during the night.  Phil quickly swapped our back-up anchor for the damaged one and we were secure again.

High winds marooned us at Cape Sable a second night. Mickey and Phil spent the next day working on our engines.  The starboard engine refused to start, but Phil was able to hot-wire it with a screwdriver.  It needed a new water pump, so he swapped out a water pump from the disabled port engine, but then the screwdriver trick failed to work again.

We finally contacted TowBoat US (AAA for cruisers), who sent a towboat from Islamarada to take us up to the Little Shark River.  That was the limit of their towing area.   We arrived there late Thursday afternoon along with Carpe Diem and anchored up the river in a protected area.

The tow boat captain warned us that we would have no communication.  That meant no cell phone coverage, no internet and no VHF.  He promised that he would contact the TowBoat US folks in Marco Island to come and get us as soon as the weather allowed.

Another storm was predicted for the next day and this one was the worst we have ever encountered.  Even though we were about a quarter mile up the river, with wind protection from all directions, a squall came through that tossed both our boats around like toys.   Fortunately, our anchor held this time.  We later learned that the winds in that storm had exceeded 60 mph. 

On the third day, the weather calmed.  Finally, that afternoon, a second tow boat arrived and took us the eight hours to a Marco Island marina.

Things we learned from this experience: 


1)  Don't believe that the words "unlimited towing" on your TowBoat US card really mean "unlimited towing."


2) The Little Shark River is beautiful and remote, but it's not a good place to get stranded.


3)  Cruisers are the best people in the world.  Especially the folks on Carpe Diem and Samantha.

ALLIGATORS, SWAMP BUGGIES AND WILD PIGS

I wrote our last post in Ft Lauderdale on Christmas Day and here it is more than a month later. It's been a busy time.

You can't rely on the winter weather in Florida. Our son Andy and his girlfriend Jill arrived at the marina in a drenching rain, which continued for the next two days. After the rain stopped, it turned chilly and windy.

In spite of the weather, we had a great time during their six-day visit. Jill, a high school and college swimmer who now competes in triathalons, worked out several times at the Swimming Hall of Fame just a couple of blocks from our marina. She and Andy also ran on the beach several times. We dined on seafood, explored Ft. Lauderdale by water taxi and explored the Everglades in a swamp buggy, where we saw alligators and wild pigs up close.

Andy and Jill left right before Christmas on a 10-day cruise with Jill's family destined for Aruba, Dominican Republic and the Panama Canal.

We shared Christmas dinner with new friends on the boat next door to us at the marina. The next day, we headed out to sea for the trip south to Miami. We would have stayed on the Intracoastal Waterway, but there is a fixed bridge just north of Miami that won't accommodate our 57-foot mast.

South of Miami at No Name Harbor, in Bill Baggs State Park at the south end of Key Biscayne, Phil retrieved his fold-up bicycle from the park ranger. It had been stolen the year before and later recovered by folks from the parks department, who kept it for us until we returned. Kudos to Bill Baggs State Park!

Two days' of sailing, with a stopover at Isla Morada, brought us to Boot Key Harbor, in the middle of the Keys. There are nearly 300 boats here, either on mooring balls or anchored. Every morning at 9:00 o'clock sharp, the Cruisers Net is broadcast over the VHF radio. The moderator welcomes new boats to the harbor, bids farewell to those who are leaving, and provides a forum for announcements, questions, comments, requests for help and an on-air flea market. Nearly everyone in the harbor tunes in.

The first couple of weeks in January, we endured record-breaking low temperatures here. We were not equipped for the cold weather, either physically or mentally. The temperature dropping into the upper 30's at night and we piled on blankets and sleeping bags to stay warm. During the day, we thought up things to bake in the over, just to heat up the cabin.

But the cold weather finally passed and it has warmed up again. Many days reach the 80's, and we have stowed the blankets and sleeping bags.

We will stay here another week or so. The marina hosts a Super Bowl party and we'll be sitting on the front row to watch the game. We have discovered a few other Indiana cruisers here, including folks from Kokomo, Southport, Noblesville and Valparaiso. We will all sit together and cheer on our team.

Soon after, weather permitting, we will begin our trek up the Gulf Coast. We plan to meet up with Phil's sister, Betty, and her husband, John, who will be camping near Ft. Myers. That same week, my brother, Allen, his daughter, Melissa and his grandson, Fox, will spend a night on board with us. We are looking forward to seeing them all.

Warm wishes to all of you up North. Spring will be along soon.