The Most Organized Cruising Harbor in the US

The Marathon City Marina, which controls the 226 mooring balls in Boot Key Harbor and also provides services to another 50-75 boats that are anchored, may hold the record for having the most highly organized harbor for cruisers in the U.S.

A mooring ball is a floating plastic buoy that is attached with thick rope to some type of structure on the bottom. Municipalities and marinas are the usual providers of mooring balls that are available to the public.

Here in Boot Key Harbor, they likely drilled a hole in the bedrock, filled it with hydraulic cement and placed a 12" stainless steel rod with an eyebolt on the end directly down into the grout. A second, shorter rope with an eye-splice is attached to the top of the mooring ball. You secure your boat to the eye-splice with a dock line.

The mooring balls are lined up in rows and each buoy is identified with a letter and a number (we are in Row L, Number 10). There is enough "swing room" between each ball and each row that you won't hit another boat, even if the wind moves you 360 degrees around your mooring ball.

When the wind is strong, as it has been the last few days, the boats resemble a precision drill team, swinging together one way then another.

When we signed up for our mooring ball at the marina office, we received a "Cruisers' Guide to Boot Key Harbor," which included a welcome from the harbor master and pictures of the harbor staff, and a list of amenities included in the fee for the mooring ball (parking, if you have an automobile, shower facilities, pump-out, dinghy dockage, bicycle storage, garbage disposal, lounge, library, storage units, ice, water, laundry, battery charging, and project room).

The guide also included contact information for the hospital, fire department, taxi service, National Weather Service, Coast Guard, and the local sheriff, a map of the Middle Keys, information on hurricane preparedness, WiFi, tours, shopping, restaurants, and the weekly schedule for the "pump-out" boat, which comes to your boat to empty your holding tank.

Most everyone in the harbor tunes in to VHF Channel 68 every morning at 9:00 a.m. sharp for the "Cruisers Net." The first morning we tuned in, I walked out onto the back deck and could hear the Cruisers Net in stereo, echoing through the harbor, because so many of the 300 boats here were tuned in.

The Cruisers Net starts out by welcoming any newcomers and offering farewells to those leaving. Then there are announcements of interest to the cruising community, offers to buy, sell or trade items, requests from anyone needing help or assistance, questions about local services, and finally a trivia question for the day. The broadcast usually lasts about a half hour.

The first day we were here, there was much discussion about a boat that was dragging its anchor and bumping into other boats. No one was living aboard and the local officials were having trouble locating the owner. By the next day, the owner had been tracked down in another state and the boat had been re-anchored by a friend.

Every evening as the sun goes down, a symphony of conch shell horns from several boats salute the setting sun. There's something spiritual about it.

It's amazingly quiet and peaceful here, considering how many people are co-existing in this relatively small harbor. Everyone is friendly and eager to share information on local events, the best restaurants, groceries, boat stores, land transportation, doctors, and more.

There's even a "buddy boat list" on a dry-erase board in the marina office where people can locate others wishing to travel together to their next destination.

Most of the people here appear to be cruisers rather than live-aboards. Most are retired. However, there are also folks traveling with children, some even very young children. I was surprised at how many cruisers have dogs and/or cats on board.

We are enjoying our time here in Marathon. It's fun to meet so many other cruisers, the weather is delightful, and there's a lot to do here.

We'll be moving on next week as we begin our trip up the Gulf Coast. We are anticipating some beautiful Everglades scenery and wildlife and maybe some sea adventures.

For now, Boot Key Harbor is a lovely respite.

Boot Key Harbor

It's Friday afternoon and we are anchored at Boot Key Harbor, at Marathon Key. This is a popular place for cruisers. There are probably 200 boats anchored here. Many cruisers come here to spend the winter.

They even have a "smorgasboat" that makes the rounds of boats, selling newspapers, coffee, pastries, and pump-outs.

We pulled the anchor at Islamarada about 9:30 this morning and headed to a nearby marina to top off our diesel tanks. I called ahead to the marina to make sure it was deep enough for us to get in and out.

My charts said they had 2-3 feet of water, which is barely enough for us. The dockmaster said, "Sure, you can get in here. We have a 48-ft. catamaran docked here right now." (Our catamaran is 36 ft. long and needs at least 2'8" of water to float.

We followed the markers into the channel. About half way in, our keel was stirring up mud and the depth sounder said 2.7 feet. I revved up the engines and we plowed through some mud. As we entered the marina, I felt that old familiar thud as we hit bottom.

Phil took over the controls and managed to power us off the shoal, and we continued on to the fuel dock. We topped off the fuel and water tanks, left them a bag of trash, and were on our way out of the marina by 10:30.

As we exited the channel, our keels began to dig into the mud. I revved the engines and we powered through, leaving a wake of muddy water. Once we got out into the deeper water, we opened the sails and were soon doing 6.5 knots.

Prior to Islamorada, I got nervous when the depth meter dropped below five feet. My new "nervous threshhold" has been reset to three feet.

It was a beautiful, sunny day and the wind filled the sails. We kept the motors going as well to augment the sails.

A few miles down the Intracoastal, we found Channel Five, which led us through a 65' fixed bridge and out into the Gulf of Mexico for out trip to Marathon.

At first, it was fairly calm. Motoring with our sails, we were averaging 6 knots. Soon the seas grew to 3-5 feet, on our beam, which caused enough turmoil on board that we needed to hang on tight to keep from being pitched from our seats.

Then, the wind moved from the south to the west, so it was "on our nose." Waves on the beam (towards the side of the boat) and winds on the nose (coming straight at you) make for an uncomfortable ride. But, I'm getting used to uncomfortable rides. You just have to hang on tight.

We have figured out how to keep the books on the shelves (bungee cords) and have repaired the clasps on the cupboards to keep things in the cupboards. I'm still learning how to wedge myself into the cockpit or the first mate's chair to keep from being flung across the deck.

Several people have talked about having a "beautiful sail" from here to there. I would like, just once, to have a beautiful sail, with the waves and the wind coming from behind. Is that too much to ask?

Sooner or later, we will have a "beautiful sail."

Our next chance may be as we travel up the southwest coast of Florida, on our way to Naples. Our son, Matt, his wife, Michelle, and our grandchildren Kailyn and Tyler, are planning a trip to Naples for spring break. About the same time, we heard from Phil's sister, Jane and her husband, Tom, that they will be coming to Naples as well.

We have now commited ourselves to making the trek from Marathon to Naples. We're not sure yet what that will involve, but Eleanor Roosevelt said I must do what I think I cannot do.

So, Naples it is. The whole point of this trip is to explore, experience, learn, and operate outside our comfort zone. We are accomplishing all those things so far.

Key Largo

When I last posted, we were anchored at Elliot Key, enjoying a quiet evening and beautiful weather.

After 12 days at anchor, I needed a "marina fix," so we stopped in at Blank Point Harbor Marina, across Biscayne Bay from Elliot Key. As if on cue, the head (toilet) stopped working.

To spare you the details, we found a mechanic the next day who repaired the head in about two hours. We haven't gotten the bill yet, but whatever he charges, it was worth it. Nothing dulls the spirit like a non-working head.

Black Point Marina has a great restaurant overlooking the water and live music on the weekends. It is apparently "the place to be" in Cutler Ridge, Florida, and we enjoyed wonderful food and music.

We left the marina mid-week and decided to explore Boca Chita Key, a few miles to the north. Originally purchased in the 1930's by Mark Honeywell of Honeywell Computers and other early high-tech products, he sold it after his wife died on the island from a fall. Ownership passed through other families until the U.S. government bought it in 1985 and made it part of the Biscayne Bay National Park.

Boca Chita Key is enchanting, with a small, protected harbor and a seawall where you can dock your boat. It has a beautiful beach on the Atlantic side, picnic tables, grills and campgrounds. On the down side, it has hordes of mosquitos and no-see-ums, so much so that we quickly re-named it "Bugga Chita Key." We spent one night there and moved on early the next day.

We motored north again back to No Name Harbor, where we met up Saturday morning with my brother, Allen, his wife, Dorie, his daughter Melissa and her fiancee, Greg. They had driven down two hours from Palm Beach Gardens, Allen and Dorie's winter home. Melissa and Greg were visiting from Washington, D.C., where Melissa is an attorney with British Petroleum and Greg is a staff attorney for Verizon.

We had a wonderful visit, which included a birthday lunch for me at a great Cuban restaurant in Miami and a trip to Home Depot for needed supplies, a treat for us boating people without cars.

After the family left to head North, Phil and I stayed at No Name Harbor on Saturday and Sunday nights, enjoying a pitch-in Sunday with the other cruisers anchored in the harbor.

This morning (Monday), we began our Keys exploration in earnest. About 9:30 we headed south motor-sailing (using both sails and motors) at nearly seven knots the entire day. By 4:30, we had covered 44 nautical miles and are anchored in Tarpon Basin, about the middle of Key Largo.

To give you some perspective, it's another 20 miles to Islamarada, then another 35 miles more to Marathon Key, then 48 miles more to Key West. That sounds do-able to us.

We are taking the "inside route" to Key West so far, which is possible because our boat has a draft of only 2.8 ft. The inside route is fairly shallow, and because we are a catamaran and don't need deep water, we can go places that monohulls can't go.

The alternate route around the Keys is the Hawk Channel, which is on the Atlantic side of the Keys, a deep-water channel between the reef and the shore. We may take that route on the way back, just for something different.

Our son, Matt, and his family are planning a spring break trip to Naples, on the West Coast. If we get our courage up, we might continue on up the West coast of Florida and visit them in Naples.

Two new things we have learned:

1) If an engine starts, but dies when you put it in gear, look over the side and see if you forgot to secure your dock line and it's wrapped around the prop.

2) If you start the engines but the boat won't move, and it's low tide, you may be aground, and you won't get to take your brother and his family on a cruise around the bay. There's nothing to do but wait until the tide comes back in.

We Sailed!!!!

I know we haven't posted in a while. Several of you have inquired if we are okay. We are fine...we were just relaxing and socializing for a few days in a very special place called No Name Harbor.

Earlier in the week the wind had begun to pick up and strong storms were predicted. No Name Harbor was across Biscayne Bay from our anchorage at Dinner Key, so we sought refuge there late one afternoon.

No Name Harbor is a small, protected, natural harbor on the east coast of Key Biscayne, near the south end. It's part of a state park and has room for about 20 boats to anchor, if they are tightly packed. It also has a restaurant that serves great Cuban food, a pavilion, lots of walking and bike paths, a beautiful beach on the Atlantic side, a washer and dryer for cruisers, and friendly and helpful park rangers.

We spent the week there, and nearly every night there was a cruiser get-together in the pavilion. Sometimes it was appetizers and wine, sometimes it was a pitch-in. We got to know lots of interesting folks.

Some had been cruising for years, some were single-handing their boats. Most were cruising couples. Most were veteran cruisers. All had fascinating stories to tell.

We laughed about needing name-tags. Many of the cruisers had boat cards, the cruiser equivalent of business cards. I had just designed some boat cards and printed them (see above), so we were glad to have cards to exchange.

This morning (Saturday), the anchorage was beginning to fill up, so we decided we needed to move on. We upped the anchor about 9:00 a.m. and headed out into Biscayne Bay.

Without a real plan, we began to motor south. The sun was shining, it was about 75 degrees, and there was a northeast wind blowing about 15 knots. Great sailing weather.

We looked at each other and said, "Let's raise the sails." We have no real sailing experience. We only knew what we had read in our sailing books.

All of our sails are "furling" sails, which means they roll up into a vertical mast. There is a main sail, which unfurls from the main mast, and two smaller sails that unfurl from masts at the front of the boat.

To unfurl any of these sails, you must release one line attached to the lower edge of the sail, while taking in another line that wraps around the mast. So, each sail has two lines to control it.

We decided to put up the main sail first. The winch that controls that sail was balky and didn't want to work. Phil gave it some expert attention and it finally began to unfurl.

We headed into the wind and opened the sail completely. Then we turned the boat south and we began to move! We kept the engines idling, just in case we needed them. Soon we were doing three knots, solely from the wind!

Next, we unfurled the jib, a small sail in front of the main sail. The boat began to sail faster. When we were doing 4.5 knots, we finally turned off the engines.

It was suddenly quiet. All we could hear was the sound of the water beneath the hulls and the wind against the sails. We felt like the crew of Kon-Tiki headed to the Polynesian Islands.

The wind remained steady from the Northeast, and we kept sailing south at four to five knots. At one point, we reached nearly six knots. We traveled 18 miles under sail today.

About 2:00 p.m. we arrived at Elliot Key, which our guide books described as a good place to spend the night. We anchored in about five feet of crystal clear water, about 100 yards from land. Several other boats are anchored here.

Jimmy Buffet is on the stereo. The sun is beginning to set in the west. There's a light breeze from the north to keep us cool.

We didn't hit anything. We didn't tip the boat over. Nobody went overboard. And we sailed 18 miles today! It was a monumental day!!

The picture on the left is our boat card. The photo on the top right is Miami in the distance. You have to look very closely to see it. The photo on the bottom right is our anchorage at Elliot Key.

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.