March 2016 - Boat Life Larks

by Matt

I thought it would be fun to start a Throwback Thursday post on the blog from now and then to share some photos of our previous boating adventures that have led up to where we are now. So, here is the first installment.
<<Insert wavy flashback special effects here!>>

We had just graduated college, yada yada yada, we decided to live on a sailboat in the Keys. Money was tight (just graduated, remember?) but we both had jobs lined up in Keys and had enough cash to by a decently sized monohull sailboat. We landing on a 1978 Islander 32 in Ruskin, Florida named Second Wind. She was beau…ehh, no, well, I mean…well, she had a lot of potential.

There she is! "Run away past Matt and Lucy, run away!!!"

The boat had been lived on by a dog owning chain smoker who kept company with cockroaches. (Things not disclosed in the Yachtworld sales listing, lesson #12) Before we could leave the dock, we threw out every piece of upholstery and evicted the roaches. They did not respond to their notice, so they were bug bombed to oblivion. (I gave them the option to leave on their own…my conscience is clear!) (There was a photo of the cockroach massacre, dear reader, but we decided to spare you.)

Chain smoking dog owners need to take their cushions with them back to the 1970s.

Believe it or not we did have the boat surveyed. I’m not sure why…there was not much to say beyond, “with lots of time and money, this could be a great deal!”. I had neither of these commodities, but I was young and stupid (lesson #28).

Yikes! You can see the blisters from here!

So we set sail from Ruskin to Key Largo. The stupid marina that this stupid boat was stupid at didn’t have stupid channel markers and we stupid ran aground in about three stupid minutes. Lesson #34, pay more attention on to navigation on the survey sail! Lesson #42, get Sea Tow! $800 later, we were floating freely and outbound in Tampa Bay. It was pretty nice, and we passed the Sunshine Skyway bridge and anchored off Egmont Key for the evening.

Sailing under the Skyway!

Loved that tiller steering!
I wonder if Lucy ever did see that huge ship??

On day two of our cruise we sailed south and after an hour or so of beautiful, fun sailing, a squall came through and snapped all but a few of our mainsail slides (lesson #55). D’oh!

Nice sunsets no matter what boat you're sailing!

We pulled in and got a slip at Venice. The Venice West Marine took a lot more money (lesson 60), but we loved pulling into town and exploring (lesson #62—see, not all lessons were negative!). Walking the pier and beach, checking out the local restaurants and such…lots of fun!

We left Venice and proceeded along the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway southbound. We stopped in beautiful harbors along the way, and when the choice came between offshore (where the s@(#t went down!) and the lovely cruising of the ICW we choose to go through Lake Okeechobee and across to Stuart. What a great trip! We stayed in Ft Myers, a favorite spot of ours to this day! We stopped at La Belle and Clewiston, and then across the lake. Lesson #73, Lake Okeechobee can get rough and nasty!

Along the way the lift bridge at Port Myakka sets the clearance limit for the canal at 49’. Our mast is 47.5’. Yikes! We made it, but Lucy huddled in the cabin shaking with fear. The VHF antenna did hit! Use caution at those bridges sailboats! (Lesson #77)

Docked at Venice. Donating money to West Marine.

Lucy still remembers the diesel spraying in her eyes fondly!

Locking through on the Okeechobee Waterway. Very cool experience!

Port Myakka railroad lift bridge. 49' never looked so short!!

I'm just not sure Florida has enough bridges...

We really wanted a dinghy but couldn’t afford a nice one. My mother had just upgraded her Miami home from plywood to metal shutters. Are you thinking what I thought? Probably not! But we built a tender in her yard over the course of a week while the boat sat in West Palm waiting for some engine work (don’t rush for those scheduled draw bridge openings, lesson #82)

Second Wind on a mooring at Las Olas in Ft Lauderdale. That was a fun stop too!

Used hurricane shutters and a gallon of epoxy never looked so good!

We got the boat to Key Largo and stayed aboard as much as we could. We were working full time and making money now, but that left no time for boat projects. Rowing the dinghy to and fro sucked (lesson #94). After a few months, we wound up hauling out and living the boat yard for awhile, which sucked more (lesson #99). We did what we could to the boat, but wound up deciding to sell the boat and get a rental house.

Photo proof: Lucy's been making boat cushions since 'Nam.

We learned a lot of lessons about boating and life from Second Wind. She was our first home together and now, 15 years later, maybe I’m a little nostalgic. Oh, wait, no. That’s indigestion. My bad.

Not sure of the timeframe? Hope this helps. And no, we don't remember why there was an airplane on a barge with this painted on it!

See, it floats! Seriously, it was nice dinghy.

Final takeaways:

Project boats are fine for folks with too much money and too much time on their hands, but even then think twice before buying one whose systems don’t function. (Did I fail to mention that Second Wind’s plumping, refrigeration, pressure water, and wiring/electrical systems didn’t even function!?!)
Cruising is awesome and the world is beautiful by sailboat.
Smell can haunt you for life. To this day, the mixed smell of teak oil, diesel fumes, and old sanitation hose makes us both nauseous.
The last photo I found while going through these archives was of this lovely Lagoon 37 anchored in Biscayne Bay. Kismet?

Lagoon 37 in Miami. Kismet?

We took the Intracoastal south from North Palm Beach to Miami during Christmas vacation. Now, it's time for the fun to begin!

Day 6

Anchor up; time to leave Biscayne Bight and head to the destination we thought we’d arrive at a week ago: Elliot Key. We sailed in 15-20 knots of wind and arrived in time for lunch. Hastings was thrilled and delighted to be dinghied to land. How he loves land! I was pleased as punch to discover my hat, thought lost to Neptune, was actually lodged in the dinghy. Nice save, dinghy!

One of the sandy beaches on Elliot Key

Day 7

Beach, reading, staring!

Independence at Sunset

Day 8

Morning walk for the dog. We have been anchored all alone, while to the north 10 sailboats all huddled together. We sailed north 2 miles to the chosen destination which was rejected due to the water not being as clear as Matt likes. We ended up where the gaggle of sailboats had been; however, they had all left for their next destination or moved to where we were previously.

Clear water, private island, dream boat, all alone - what more could we ask for?

Anyways, this new spot (1 mile from the old spot) is great. So much better. There is a perfect beach for wading and walking, and a sandbar for sandbar-ing. Hastings was very worried about the various boaters that got stuck on the sandbar and stared and barked as if he does not understand societal convention. They extracted themselves from the sandbar, only to hit it at high speed shortly after.

Boat dog walking on Elliot Key sandbar at dusk

Sandbar Fun

Now we have been thoroughly entertained, it is time to ponder the stories of the stars and the water worms that glow for 10 seconds and then fade.

Starry night at anchor from our Lagoon 380 sailboat

I see stars!

Testing our underwater fishing light. No holes in the boat required!

Day 9

Morning beach walk. Lucy finally pull-starts the dinghy engine on the first time and without instruction. Hastings accepts this and does not engage in the hysterical barking that has been his usual job. We are finally, finally, getting into a daily swing of happiness and ease. It rains and rinses the decks and then the sun shines brighter than before. We apply bug spray before we get to the beach and are left to enjoy the peace instead of screeching like zombie victims (do zombie victims screech?). The cockpit faces the open bay and the trampolines face our private beach. We never want to leave. It seems like a lifetime since we were at Lake Boca last week. We watch the other sailboats leave and new ones replace them. I wonder who they are, where they came from, where are they going?

Day 10. Its New Years Eve, for goodness sakes!

We took Hastings to a final lark at the sandbar. The sun was shining, the water was clear and blue and green. Simply glorious.

Boat dog enjoys dinghy rides at the Elliot Key sandbar

Final jolly at the sandbar

Alas, we needed to make our way back to land and work. It was an easy sail back to Biscayne Bight. People in their houses were again holding raves. A DJ with a microphone said approx every 35 seconds, it's New Years Eve for godsakes. The anchorage was full and Miami put on quite the show; fireworks from Homestead to Miami Beach filled the sky.

New Years Eve - tea and kisses!

Downtown Miami fireworks seen from our boat

New Years Eve Fireworks, Miami

Day 11. New Years Day

We got up at first light to sail back home. Sailing for 12 hours was the perfect way to start off 2016.This is the year we will become full-time layabouts. 2016 seemed like a way away when the spreadsheet started, and here it is- time to take the final step, out into the unknown.

Sail away!

Day 1: We tried to sail

Southbound, going north

Through the inlet at dusk. Windy and wavy, but manageable. Hastings is seasick. Tack east then south for an hour. Sails are full in 20 knots of wind. Matt suggests quitting as we are making good less than 1 knot. I remark that it will take us an hour just to get back to the inlet. Oh my dear, we are north of the inlet. At this rate, it will take us 60 hours of bashing into the wind to get to Biscayne Bay.

sailing our Lagoon 380 catamaran at night

Sailing south, moving north

Intracoastal

We give up and head into the Intracoastal, and head south (again, for realz this time). We pass Clematis / downtown WPB; it’s all lit up with a million lovely Christmas lights, children are laughing, puppies are decked out in reindeer hats, couples are holding hands, music is playing - and there are Lagoon catamarans in the anchorage! A fairy palace, an enchanted castle. We should have stopped here for the night, but didn’t, because who wants to have a nice time on vacation? Not us!

Dementor Anchorage

We headed through 3 bridges and stopped south of Southern in a dark hole, where dementors in the mangroves made valiant, non stop efforts to steal our souls. It was windy 20-25, right on the nose, with a nonstop north current. Matt did an anchor and dementor watch.

Yes, dear reader, I have neglected to tell you one small point. If there is ever a point in this narrative that you believe us to be in misery, you may assume, that is was also raining vengefully on us. You would also be quite right in inferring that the helmsman was without a rain jacket while the off-watch person was gladly wearing their rain jacket in the comfort of the salon.

Day 2: Bridge Madness

Depart our anchorage at 9AM and go through bridges all day. Two bridges are called Ocean Ave, and they are 2 miles apart. Their signs merely state “Ocean Ave” and the charts merely state “bridge”.

Ocean Ave, this is motor yacht Bella Vita, requesting next opening.

You mean Lantana Ocean Ave. There are two Ocean Aves.

I don’t know what I mean. I mean, I’m here, in the green 95 ft motor yacht, and I want the bridge to open.

Right, but do you mean Lantana or Boynton?

Motor vessel is in tears

Bridge Tender: “Ocean Ave preparing to open”

But WHICH Ocean Ave, dear bridge tender?

Truly, hearing all the other bridges and the other boats will drive you insane. Oh, and our starboard engine that we paid an expert $$ to fix overheated and shut down. There's only so much Intracoastal insanity one can take, so we stopped at Lake Boca instead of continuing the suffering.

Lake Boca

We have spent a significant amount of time and effort to completely escape our regular and work lives, but find ourselves so enchanted by Lake Boca and surrounds that we are going to stay a while! Ha! (This location is approximately 35 seconds from our workplace). We dinghied to shore and took Hastings on a little walk, and it was lovely. We lounged on the tramps, had egg nog, read by solar light.

A balmy night, surrounded by the twinkling lights of the richie riches who's private secretaries are very busy calling their congressmen complaining about the blight of having to look at poor people having a nice time. The actual richie richies are drinking fancy wine in one of their other 48 properties. But the horror their private secretaries have to go through is very, very unsettling. (Waterfront property owners are constantly pushing laws in Florida to prevent cruisers anchoring in Florida. It would be funny, expect such a bill just passed the Florida legislature, so it’s actually sad.)

Tragedy at Sea

Our nice time was cut short by a tragedy at sea. (See, Richie, we're NOT having a nice time!) Hastings bed blew overboard and was lost forever. It (handily held down by the dog) had been on the bow while we lounged; when we came in to have a snack, Hastings said he would hold the fort down. Wait, did someone say Snack? See ya, bed! After the bed was discovered missing, Matt mentioned he had noticed a dark object fly by, but couldn't comprehend its meaning and so put it out of his mind. Somehow we will pull ourselves through this loss and pick up what pieces remain of our blighted Christmas vacation.

Lucy and Hastings share a seat on their catamaran

Bed lost at sea = gotta cuddle up!

Day 3. Christmas Eve

I awake to absurd and annoying clanking and react by pounding on Matt’s chest. Luckily for Matt, he was not there to receive the pounding as he was the cause of the aforementioned clanking. He had woken up to the surprising revelation that a boat had appeared mere feet away. Did we drag? Did someone else drag? No, the new boat had arrived in the night, and was so drawn in by our stunning loveliness that it wanted to be as close as possible, like a moth to a flame.

During his discovery check, Matt found that our bracket for our wind generator had failed and the generator was dangling precariously, still windmilling. Hence the wild clanking. All was well enough, and we went back to sleep so we could be energized for high powered glaring at the interloper.

The interlopers got into their dinghy and left. I could only imagine that they would be back shortly, as no normal person would simply leave their boat so poorly set. We had a lovely brunch and did boat chores, which included scrubbing the bottom and swimming around for lost objects. I bathed in the anchorage, in order to entertain and delight my fellow cruisers. “For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbors, and laugh at them in our turn?" (Jane Austen, 1813)

Hastings loves brunch!

Christmas Eve dinner on the town

We discussed moving the boat to get away from the interloper; however, he had not come too close - and - if we moved, there was nothing to stop a fresh interloper from anchoring on top of us in a new location. So, we left Independence to her own devices, dinghied off, had a charming conversation with a local woman at the local park about the wonders of percoset comas (Hastings initiated this by being unbearably cute, and such a young puppy - nay, he is nearly 11, my! but so young at heart and spirit!) and marched to Mizner. Hastings drew all the passersby into conversation while we had a lovely Irish meal, that was cooked by Someone Else. Someone Else then did the dishes. Oh how I love Someone Else!

Interloper Crisis

We dinghied back towards Inde to find the interloper closer than ever. Per standard protocol, Matt decided to throw more of our items overboard, and naturally, he went to fetch them. The interloper was now only 6 ft away, and while we were not sure that we could pull our anchor without coming even closer, we decided to try.

Dear reader, it is dark. I am rather cross at the interlopers, and life, and the currents and the wind. And perhaps the black and tan was a bad idea. Maybe this whole vacation is a bad idea! Why not stay at the dock, where wind and waves pay us no mind? Where interlopers stay safely away, where replacement beds for Hastings are easily found? Where Someone Else is always on hand to cook dinner and do dishes?

There is a meltdown over the carabineer instructions. I cannot fathom why none of our fellow cruisers have dinghied over to help. If only someone was fending off the interloper while we were helming and pulling the anchor. I imagine they were all too engaged in a captivating game of Snap and drinking copious amounts of beloved egg nog to notice our mini-drama, or hear our cries of “I want you to do the carabiner, Margot”. “I would, Todd, but I can’t fathom what you mean!” (Griswold's Christmas Vacation, 1989)

We re-anchored as far away from everyone as we could get. I must admit I found the whole episode frightening and depressing, but Matt was gleefully ready to move on. I comforted myself by thinking of others’ miseries: how many were out raining down blows on last minute shoppers in Wal-Mart? How many daughters-in-law are being chided by their mothers-in-law for not cooking the potatoes in the tradition that the Dedlocks have held for millennia, even before fire was discovered? How many people are happily watching TV because they never dared to look outside the window, and dream?

We awarded ourselves our own egg nog, but sadly had no game of Snap. Another fitful night of paranoid glaring at other boats as the wind increased to 25 knots awaited us. At one point, Matt got up and successfully fixed the wind generator noise, and returned to glaring out our window.

Day 4. Christmas Day

I awoke to find the wind generator dismantled in the cockpit. Hence “it’s no longer clanking”!

Coffee is needed to get through these long tough days of vacation.

Again, the bridges drove us batty and we only made it to the Middle River in Ft Lauderdale. Yes, there was another tragedy at sea! I lost my favorite hat to the wind, while we were passing under a bridge and surrounded by other boats, jostling each other in the ever present, ever contrary current.

The anchorage area was close enough to the surrounding houses that we were in earshot of any raves hosted by the law-abiding, congressman writing homeowners. We were entertained by such a rave at such a house. For the rave-er's nighttime spectacular, they drunkenly kayaked about the anchorage, screaming at boats. I hope they were able to get up early enough the next morning to write more letters to their congressman about naughty boaters detracting from their rampage.

Day 5. Boxing Day

Sailboats anchored in Middle River Ft Lauderdale

Middle River anchorage at dawn

We somehow managed to get up and leave early, determined to make this our last day of bridges. We decided to each helm through 2-3 bridges each to keep the exhaustion at bay. Despite my best calculations and slowest possible speeds, we arrived at Bakers Causeway 30 minutes early and had to dance with 8 other waiting boats while innumerable power boats buzzed by.

Bridge Horror, Part 967

Then the true horror began: the bridge would only open its' west span, offering supposedly 40 ft of horizontal clearance. We needed to manage our 22 ft wide boat through this ridiculous bridge, perversely now with the current with us, powerboat wakes bashing us, and fear gripping us. It's fine, don't worry. A victory celebration was definitely in order after clearing the last of the bridge assault and arriving in the wonderful waters of Biscayne Bay.

Miami!

We anchored with the rest of Miami at Biscayne Bight. Boats with Attractive Young Ladies abounded, and boats wondering why they didn't have any AYL's forlornly circled, turning their music louder and louder and getting more and more miffed at their lack of success. They left en-masse at sunset, undoubtably to check out the nightlife.