Buenos dias

0530 on the 13th, and I’m ready to roll.  The Admiral…..Not so much.  That’s O.K., we’re on a mooring, so I can slip it myself, and get the Girl up the Sound while she gets a reasonable nights’ sleep.  Our plan is to transit the Long Island Sound to the east end of Long Island today so that we can make a short jump across to Block Island, then on to Martha’s Vineyard, Nantucket, and finally Provincetown before heading to Nova Scotia.  We’ll spend a couple of days at each stop, picking up some of the sights that we missed on our trip down the coast last Fall.  It’s a gorgeous day, high 60’s and partly cloudy as we make our way to the Northeast.  We see a few boats along the way, but not nearly the number that we encountered in September last year-I guess it’s still early in the season.  The water is still cool, around 55 degrees, so the wind blowing off of it has a little nip.  Suz says she’ll have to break out some warmer clothes.  Ironic that it’s Summer and we’re unpacking the long-sleeved shirts and fleecies.  The good news is that the wine cellar (bilge) will be a lot nicer temperature for the bottles stored there.  In midafternoon, we hear a boat screaming up on our starboard side.  I get up to look out the window in time to see a USCG RIB alongside, around 10 feet from our rail.  The guys don’t look too happy.  After ordering Suz to stop the boat, and before I had a chance to ask them, they asked me what the problem was.  Long story short, they had received a Mayday call from an unidentified vessel, and localized it to our position.  I assured them that we had made no such call, and in fact, had not used the radio at all today.  They seemed unconvinced, and asked if we had any children on board.  After a little backandforth, they dropped back off our quarter and hovered for awhile.  We weren’t sure what to do, so we got underway (slowly).  Eventually, their boat peeled off without any further communication, and we continued on.  We didn’t feel good about this whole matter, because calling in false emergencies is kinda frowned upon, but there was nothing we could do about it.  Later, as the Coast Guard was periodically broadcasting that they had received a Mayday from thus-and-such a lat./long., I calculated our position at that time using hourly positions recorded in our logbook.   We were 2.7 miles from the reported position, but that didn’t make us feel any better.  Three hours later, we heard the USCG reporting that they had received a Mayday in a child’s voice reporting that “We are sinking”, asking if anyone had any information on this call.  This drama played out for another hour or two before the Coast Guard cancelled the alert, and informing all listeners that calling in false emergencies could result in $25K fines, possible imprisonment, and restitution to the Coast Guard for all costs incurred.  Nearing Shelter Island, our destination, we heard another call from a boater in distress, this one “taking on water”.  I won’t bore you with the details, but the sailboat was filling faster than the pumps could pump.  Fortunately, they were only a few miles from port, and motored back to a waiting Travel lift sling that lifted them out before the REALLY BAD happened.  Ooooooh, the excitement of it all!

Entering Dering Harbor on Shelter Island, it’s pretty clear that there’s no room to anchor.  The mooring balls take up all of the deep water, so we call Mike, the owner of Jack’s Marine (and hardware), who directs us to one of his moorings. It’s one of those rare early summer warm evenings, so under sunny skies and a setting sun we take our cocktail cruise in the dinghy.  Sunday dawns sunny and warm, so we throw the bikes into White Star and head for shore.  The roads on the island aren’t exactly bike-friendly, but we manage around 15 miles and a good survey of Shelter.  Many of the homes along the shore remind us of the Victorian architecture on Mackinaw Island in Michigan.  Real estate here is not for the faint-hearted or those of shallow pocket.  A 2 bedroom ranch in the cheap seats (mid island) goes for $500-$600K, on the shore starting at $2M.  Gawking is still cheap, and we get our money’s worth.  We broke up our ride with a 6 mile hike in Mashomack Preserve, one of The Nature Conservancy’s largest properties.  Even though we stayed on the trails as directed, Suzanne managed to pick up a few ticks.  Over the next few hours, long after our hike was done she picked off around 8 of the little buggers.  What was weird is that we were side by side the whole hike, and I had nary a one.  It brought back memories for Suz, harkening back to her childhood when either she or one of her sisters would find one that had been onboard for a day or two and had attained rather remarkable proportions.  Needless to say, a good hot shower was in order when we returned to the Girl, and the clothes were submerged in a sinkful of water.  Like the dutiful husband that I am, I offered to inspect the real estate very carefully for any hangers-on.  That evening, when I awoke to the sound of the raindrops pounding on the deck above our bed, I imagined the patter of little tick feet running across my chest.  I’m pretty sure there’s a little hypochondria(sp?) going on here.  Well, the torrential rain the night before was the vanguard of a pretty significant cold front.  We woke to a steady rain and 56 degree temperatures-a perfect day for a boat ride.  We slipped our lines and made our way to Block Island battling a 3 knot current with a 25 knot wind on our starboard bow.  The rain was torrential at times, with visibilities down to ½ mile at times.  We passed a convoy of 4 small gunboats heading west, escorting a nuclear sub to Groton, CT., where the East Coast base is located.  Upon entering Salt Pond at Block Island, we spied our Nordhavn buddies, Jim and Colleen, as well as “Tapestry”, a 58’ Krogen, which our friends Bill and Stacy had recently sold.  We haven’t met the new owners yet, but I’m guessin’ tht’s in the cards for the next day or two.  Meanwhile, it’s 57 degrees, raining, and blowing like stink, so we’re hunkered down after rewatching a couple episodes of “Game of Thrones”.  Suz is doing some website research, and I’m doin’ the hunt-and-peck thing to bring us up to date.  Colleen just called, so we’ll be joining them for dinner on shore somewhere tonight-not sure where, but they’re the locals and I’m sure will pick someplace good.  It’s supposed to be 82 tomorrow (I’ll believe it when I see it).  As long as it quits pouring, we’ll get some biking and exploring in.

-That’s it for now. 

Good Morning and ready for the next offshore trip

On the 10th of June, a 0800 departure would allow us to catch the ebb tide out to Hampton Roads, but would put us in New York City around midnight the following day.  Not an ideal time to arrive in a busy harbor, but it looked like the seas on the north end of our journey would be deteriorating after that.  Our voyage had an inauspicious start.  On the way to Norfolk, we had to wait over an hour for 2 railroad bridges to open-very frustrating.  In addition to the exclusion zones surrounding all the Navy vessels docked along the Elizabeth River; work on the underwater highway tunnel created a virtual slalom course down to the ocean.  Security boats were constantly on their radios, forcefully reminding boaters to “alter course” to stay out of these zones.  Soooooo……some yahoo gets on the VHF with “Praise Allah, Death to Americans”.  The cool reply, presumably from one of the Navy patrol boats is “…..Really?”.  Moments later, a gray gunboat and a helo race by….I’m guessin’ they’re gonna ruin some bigmouth’s day.  For the next 20 hours, the seas and winds are benign, and the only company that we have is “Mosey On”, ½ mile off our starboard quarter.  The only wildlife seen is the occasional flying fish and playful dolphins.  I figured I would give the fish a break on this trip. Rods takin’ a rest.  At 0500, M.O. peels off and heads into Cape May, where Jim and Coleen will get some sleep and rest up before heading home to Block Island.  At our last bail-out point off Atlantic City, the seas are building, and the wind is coming up, but we decide to push on to NYC, 12 hours away.  Over the remaining miles, the seas only built to 2’-4’ on a 5 second interval, with winds peaking at 20 knots before subsiding after dark.  Passing Sandy Hook, NJ, we entered the New York traffic area.  The radar and chart plotter were covered with targets, most commercial vessels at this time of night.  Running a course perpendicular to the outgoing channel, I got a call from a captain on an outgoing freighter a few miles away.  I assured her that we were not interested in a close-quarters situation, and would hold until she passed by.  After our brief conversation, the freighter captain a mile behind her called her and asked her to repeat our conversation.  She said “He sees us and will wait”.  It’s just amazing how different things look at night without perspective or depth perception-I love my AIS and radar.

As we glided in to Gravesend anchorage around midnight, we spotted “Spirit Journey”, another 48’ Krogen laying at anchor just off the Toys Are Us store.  Captained by Ron and Michele Hall, she is heading up the Hudson River, through the Erie Canal, the Trent Severn and the Great Lakes on her way to the Mississippi.  Since we had to delay our morning departure to wait for the flood tide, we were able to sleep in.  Unfortunately, Ron and Michele’s vessel was a speck under the Verrazano Narrows Bridge when we woke up at 0800, so we had to make do on the “catching up quotient” with a phone call.  Their goal is Chicago by September, then on down the rivers to the Gulf of Mexico-good stuff.  We were underway by 1200, with the Coast Guard’s tall ship on our port quarter, accompanied by two RIBS’ (rigid inflatable boats (Zodiacs)) with 50 cal. machine guns on their bows.  One of the RIBs raced up in front of us, turned, and put its’ bow on the Girl about 20 yards out.  The Captain got on the VHF and hailed me to remind me of the 500 yard separation zone around military vessels.  Message received, I informed her of our intentions.  She seemed satisfied, and the situation provided us with some good pics.  Later, passing Lady Liberty stirred the emotions, but didn’t yield much of a photo op due to the hazy skies.  Up the East River and through Hell Gate, we’re happy that we waited for the flood tide as we have a 3 ½ knot current pushing us along instead of fighting us. It is impressive going through NYC on your own bottom. East River side the historic Brooklyn (1883), Manhattan and Williamsburg bridges welcome you.  Wonderful views of the Empire State, Chrysler and United Nations buildings. Pretty impressive.  The island in the East River have colorful pasts.  Roosevelt Island, home to the defunct NYC Lunatic Asylum, North Brother Island home to the Smallpox hospital and place where Typhoid Mary was held. Of course Rikers Island which still remains a prison. Travelling on the East River we hear an alert that Hilary Clinton will be “throwing her hat in the ring” for President on Roosevelt Island on Saturday. Whew, made it through the East River before the security mayhem.  At 1615, we arrive at Manhassett Bay, where the city of Port Washington has free mooring balls available.  We grab a ball, and drop our dinghy, “White Star” for the first time in nearly a month, to head ashore to provision with fresh produce.  (These towns that have free docks or mooring balls have it figured out.  Boaters mean revenue for local merchants.  We spent $170 at the grocery store and $100 at the wine shop, while using none of the infrastructure but the mooring ball).  End of editorial.  Early to bed, as we have decided to push on to the East end of Long Island, a 13 hour journey tomorrow.

-Later

 

Good Morning

 After tying up at Bald Head, we took time for a little nap, then a good boat washdown.  Our friend, Betty, who just moved into her house there gave us a call and offered the use of her golf cart for touring the island while she had meetings with some of her contractors.  The last time we were here, we had such a good time bike riding, we decided to forego the offer and get some exercise.  That evening, Betty picked us up and took us to her new home for a tour and a tasty chicken dinner.  Her house was a rental unit for a few years, and she is giving it some much-deserved TLC, and some personal touches.  From the work that she’s done already, it’s obvious that she has a vision.  I can’t wait to see the final product.  After dinner, we took Betty’s “Guest Cart” back to the marina, promising to pick her up in the morning so that she could give Suzanne a tutorial on our owner’s group website.  (Betty is the outgoing Webmistress, while the Admiral is picking up those duties for the coming year(s)).  We had a raging thunderstorm that evening, and the puddles were plentiful when I rode the 2 miles to pick Betty up in the morning.  Back at the ranch, I whipped up breakfast while the ladies got down to business.  Including quick breaks for breakfast and coffee cake, they said “Uncle” around 8 hours later.  What a trooper! It was so gracious of Betty to give up a day in the middle of the mayhem that occurs when moving into a new house.

Our weather window had slammed shut, so going offshore around Cape Hatteras (The Graveyard of the Atlantic) was out.  Looked like it was back up the ICW to Masonboro Inlet, and then coming back in at Morehead City, where we would spend the night at the city marina.  Our excitement for the day entailed passing a dredge en route up the ICW with a couple hundred feet of pipe, guided by one large and three small tugs. The 5 minutes it took to pass rated a 5 on the 1-10 pucker meter.  After exiting the ICW at Masonboro Inlet, our direct course to Morehead had to be modified to pass outside the safety zone in the ocean outside Camp LeJeune, where the Marines were staging full-scale training involving live fire and landing operations as well as Stinger missile launches, and air support from fighter jets.  Unfortunately, we didn’t get much of a show as we were 12 miles offshore.  Entering the inlet at Morehead City was interesting, as there was a dredge in the channel, and a temporary channel had been buoyed to the south.  What made it interesting was locating small temporary buoys while looking straight into the setting sun, and fighting the raging tidal current.  At the city marina, Bill, the Harbormaster, was able to squeeze us in between sportfishing boats that were congregating for the  57th Big Rock Blue Marlin tournament beginning Monday.  Big money in fishing, winner could win over $550,000! After 13 ½ hours, we didn’t care how noisy their music was, we conked out until 0700 when we pushed off the dock.   Our  13 hour push up the ICW landed us at the Deep Water Point anchorage on the Alligator River, where we arrived and dropped anchor at dark.  The following day, 12 hours more put us at Atlantic Yacht Basin, where we would take a day to catch our breath, and get some routine maintenance done.  Here, I changed the oil, impellers, and zincs on the motor and generator, as well as spending 3 hours cleaning the bottom of the boat.  While we are at A.Y.B., we meet John and Joan, a couple from New York, here on their sailboat.  They’ve been here for a week or so, having work done on their engine, and have scoped out a Mexican restaurant which John says is “cheap and good”.  We pile into their rental car, and sure enough, the food at El Toro was cheap and good.  2 entrees and a couple beers for $26-Yeah, Baby.  The Admiral learned that the lock before Norfolk was closing for the next 2 days to effect repairs.  So, the next morning after a scary (not bike friendly) 5 mile ride to the post office, we got off the dock and ran through the lock, stopping at Top Rack Marina 5 miles away. 

The next few days are spent just chillin’ and waiting for a weather window to get on up the coast.  While we are there, we meet a couple aboard a 46’ Nordhavn trawler, “Mosey On” that is moored next to Alizann.  Jim and Coleen are headed home to Block Island, and are waiting for weather as well.  Over dinner at the Amber Lantern, we agree to run up the coast together.

 

-Long Haul on the ‘Morrow

YaHoo

0730, and we’re an hour away from Bald Head, where we’ll rest up and get the Girl ready for the next leg.  We’re not sure if we’ll run the Intracoastal for a ways, or go offshore again-depends on the conditions.  We do know that tonight and tomorrow night will be spent at the dock.  Suzanne took over the webmaster duties for our owners group last November, and will be able to meet with Betty, the former webmistress, who recently bought a home on Bald Head.  Meanwhile, I’ll do some boatcleaning and maybe ride my bike a little bit.

The last 45 hours were pretty quiet as far as boat traffic went.  We saw 3 freighters outside Charleston, 2 shrimpers in Mayport, and 2 small fishing boats along the way.  Other than these-nada.  Nothing but us and the ocean on all horizons.  We were treated to a nice dolphin show off of Charleston, with a half dozen being pushed along in our bow wave in the azure blue water.  Later, 2 jet fighters, presumably from the Naval Air Station in Mayport, provided us with ringside seats for a high-altitude dogfight.  I dragged a line for about 3 hours.  After losing my bait in the first 10 minutes, I thought it’d be a target-rich environment-Nope.  I was thinkin’ it was about time to reel in and call it a day when the line went screaming off my reel.  HaHa, got a small Blackfin Tuna for my efforts.  4 pretty steaks will make a couple of good meals.  Last night, the International Space Station passed overhead at 2103.  Years ago, we saw the Shuttle go overhead on Lake Michigan, but have never seen the ISS.  With the help of stabilized binoculars, and no ambient light, we were able to make out the solar panels and running lights on the station as it passed 60 degrees above the horizon in around 10 minutes time.  Nerd time.

The weather was benign.  The first night, we experienced 2’-4’ swells with 9 second intervals on our Starboard beam, and small wind waves.  After that, the swells dropped to 1’-3’, with almost no wind waves for the duration of the trip.  During the days, the sun was out in full force.  By nights, the moon was waxing gibbous, 90% and 99% visible.  Kinda makes us want to do it again.  Well, just about to the channel at Bald Head.

-See Ya 

Hola Mi Amigos,

Ortega Landing Marina in Jacksonville is a great home away from home.  After our stay last Christmas, we were determined to come back.  The facility is secure, run by a retired Navy Chief, and meticulously maintained by a former Navy (then USAIR) pilot.  Pool, hot tub, free laundry, lightning fast internet-you get the picture.  It’s kinda like Christmas when we arrive, as we arranged to have our mail and a few other goodies (Amazon Prime rules!) delivered here in anticipation of our stay. By the time we get all our stuff out of the storeroom, it’s nearly empty.  Bruce is glad we finally got here, and thinks that he should get a bottle of wine out of the case that he’s been holding for us.  We’ve been saving some shore chores for here, so we: drop off the cushions from the bow seat for placement of some snaps, drop off the backup nav computer to get a new power supply, leave the bedspread and some clothes at the dry cleaners, leave the bikes at the shop for a week of rehab (remember that they went for a swim in Naples-lotsa rust and about 3 out of 18 gears actually working), and hit West Marine to pick up stuff they’d been holding for us.  That was the first day.  The air conditioner in our room hadn’t been making cold for a while, and I couldn’t get it doped out, so after 3 calls and messages, Clay Hansen Marine (recommended by Bruce, the Harbormaster) finally called back and arranged for their tech, Chris to come out in 2 days’ time.  Meanwhile, we rented a car and hit Home Depot, Sam’s, Bed, Bath, and Beyond, and all the usual suspects to restock.  I had planned to hit Sailor’s Exchange, kind of a marine second hand store, to grab some parts for the ongoing projects, but found that they had closed the Jacksonville store the month before-Bummer!  The store in St. Augustine was still open, though, so we also took a field trip BACK to St. A.  On the way home, we saw about 20 emergency vehicles at a construction site along the highway.  Ten miles further, we passed a school bus stopped on a surface street sporting yellow police tape around it with several police cars and a television news crew in attendance.  That night on the news, we found out that a man had been killed in an accident at the construction site, and some idiot had shot up the school bus, hitting 2 little girls (both expected to recover).  Day 3, and Suzanne’s working on the replacement nav computer (we’ll keep the one being repaired as a backup to the backup), and I’m wiring in a new alarm system while waiting for Chris, the AC tech, to arrive.  I’m putting in exhaust high temp alarms on the propulsion and generator engines, and high water alarms in the bilges.  Placing the sensors was the easy part; running wires up to the pilothouse took a little more time.  Chris shows, and gives a dire diagnosis.  The compressor is dead.  Good news is that the replacement fits the same footprint, and he should be able to get one in 7-10 days.  Bad news-$4.5K.  Ouch!  We leave a boat key with Bruce, and fly back to Michigan for our biannual dirt chores.  Physicals in Ann Arbor, dental appointments, eye exams, meet with CPA, get Mom-of-the Bride dress altered, haircut for the Admiral, visit my old office, and stay with Suz’s BF Linda in East Lansing, then off the next day to meet with our friend (and broker), Mark, in Grand Rapids.  From there, we drove up to Charlevoix to check on the house, and get things ready for our buds, Dick and Jan, who will use it as a cottage this summer.  After recommissioning the hot tub, I discover that there’s water leaking from somewhere that I can’t get to-@#$%&*!  Call Charlie, the hot tub dude.  He’ll be out in a week-$Ka-Ching.  During the course of the week, we get to visit with our Up north buds, and even had a fire in the fireplace, as its 36 degrees one night.

Back in Jacksonville, the air conditioner is not fixed.  More calls, more dancin’ around, they say that the unit is backordered from the distributor.  Got a bad feeling about this (see “bad experience in Marathon.”)  I call the distributor, yeah; he has ONE in stock-What the heck?  Okay, I ring up a dealer in JAX, and he can’t really recommend a good repair guy in town.  Hmmm.  Time to let my fingers do the dialing.  There’s a commercial refrigeration repair guy right down the road so I give them a ring.  Couldn’t be nicer on the phone-Can I wait ‘till this afternoon?  Sure, only problem is we’re leaving on Sunday.  Well……….  Mike arrives at 1130, and by 1145 he has found a burned out overheat sensor on the compressor.  He doesn’t have one on the truck, and doesn’t have time to get one from the distributor, as we’re leaving in 2 days, so he takes a picture with his cellphone, sends it to the office, and tells me that they’ll check around town with their suppliers to see what they can do.  As he headed out, he told me that he might be a while, ‘cause it was almost lunchtime, but I could be assured that he’d return, as he was leaving his tools on the boat.  Long story short, while I was running some errands, Mike returned and the unit was blowin’ cold when I returned-$230 pesos.  Thank-You, Ladies and Gentlemen.  2 for 3 on predatory repair guys in Florida.  I may lose my faith-so glad we have Scottie on our 6 most of the time.  Meanwhile, I installed the new fan/heat exchanger for the diesel heat in our room.  The old one had been drip, drip, dripping for the last couple of months, but we weren’t in one spot long enough to have one shipped from Vancouver, and we haven’t exactly needed heat.  While at Ortega, we made some nice new friends, Gary and Debra, our next door neighbors who live in Jacksonville and use their 42’ SeaRay as a getaway.  After having a farewell breakfast with them on Sunday, the 31st, we fired up the Girl and headed out.  A couple miles down the river, I noticed that we were burning 3.5 gal/hr (as opposed to 1.9), and the engine workload was around 50% (as opposed to 30%).  Usually when this happens, there’s something, like rope or a crab trap hanging on the prop or the bottom of the boat.  Running the boat in reverse for a couple hundred yards generally ditches whatever’s hanging on.  No dice.  Call Scottie real quick.  “Dude, you’ve been in a marina for what-3 weeks?  You probably have sh&%t growin’ all over your bottom and prop.  Dive that bee-och!”.  Anchor down, SCUBA on, putty knives and scrapers in hand.  Diving in the tannin colored St Johns River not my cup of tea. (Pun intended)  Lord!  What a crop of barnacles and growth.  An hour and a half later, we’re on our way again, runnin’ cool after an inauspicious start.  Like I said.  Good thing Scottie’s got our back.  We still had the ebbing tide sucking us out to the ocean, so it was a nice 3 hour trip to the inlet and on to sea, where we’d spend the next 45 hours enroute to Bald Head Island, NC (Newfoundland is 1400 miles away, and Lauren and Bill are waiting for us-Giddyup).

-Hasta Luego 

Goood Morning,

Sunny Mother’s Day, and we had to wait a bit for the tide to come in so we’d have some water under us on the way out of Salt Run in St. Augustine.  Our plan was to head to Palm Cove Marina near Jacksonville Beach to get fuel, as their cost was nearly $.25 less than anyone within 100 miles, then motor up the ICW to anchor before heading into Jacksonville.  As we were fueling up, we had plenty of time to rap with the dock dudes, as the pumps were SLOW.  By the time we were done fueling, we had been talked into spending the night at the marina.  In addition to the docks, the marina has several barns for indoor rack storage of boats up to 30’ or so in length.  Here’s the drill:  When you want to take your boat out, you call the marina, and they snatch your boat out of the rack (may be 4 boats high) with a forklift and drop it in the water.  You spend the day or whatever, on your boat, then return to the marina, where they pop the boat out of the water and drop it into a temporary rack where you, or one of the dock dudes washes it before placing it back into one of the indoor  berths until next time.  It’s a real ballet to watch, and we spent a good while watching in total fascination.  On a busy day, the guys move several hundred boats in and out-cool.  We enjoyed a very good Mom’s Day dinner at ………., which had a very extensive menu.  In the morning, we saddled up to time the flood tide for a push up the St. John’s river to Jacksonville.  The river was very busy with commercial traffic, we talked to several barges, tugs, and container ships before the Ortega River came into sight 21 miles later.  When we arrived at the Ortega River bridge, we saw a few guys in orange vests scrambling around the draw, so we weren’t surprised when the tender told us that we’d have to wait for an opening.  Ten minutes later, the bridge was okay, and we were on our way through.  As we passed this historic and busy (most openings of any bridge in Florida), the Ortega Landing Marina came into sight on our starboard.  It was to be the Girl’s home for the next 3 weeks while the Admiral and I flew back to Michigan.

-Later

Long Time, No Say,

As planned, we hit the entrance to Marineland harbor at high tide.  We were concerned about the depths on the way in, and as it turned out, it was nice to have a little extra water under us.  The depth sounder was telling us 7’ or so, but apparently 2’ of it was very loose mud which created quite a cloud in our wake.  We had no sooner tied up when another Krogen, “Allegria” rolled in.  For some reason, it was a little challenge getting onto the face dock, but after 10 minutes or so, Eric and I had them securely tied.  As it turned out, we had met the owners, Greg and Sue at a Krogen rendezvous several years previously.  We unloaded the bikes and headed south, traversing the state park hiking trails through a hardwood forest that emptied out on A1A a mile or so from the marina.  Our goal, Captain’s BBQ was several miles distant, and as we rode along the highway, the lack of other humans was kind of eerie.  There were very few cars, and as we rode past a high rise building of condos, we noted that the parking lots were empty.  Guess it was all about it being offseason still, but it seemed like we were in a Twilight Zone episode wherein everyone had left Earth.  Along the way, we passed by the studio of an artist that carved incredible sculptures from the root balls of unearthed trees.  The place looked closed, but we tried the door and found it unlocked.  We gave a shout into the dark interior and got a response from somewhere deep within.  Turned out that the studio was indeed closed, but the owner had stopped in to take care of some bidness, so he flipped on the lights, and let us take a peek around.  His work was incredibly imaginative and well executed (see attached pictures in the gallery).  Captain’s did not disappoint, and Suzanne and I enjoyed some good grub, eaten off Styrofoam plates while sitting on the screened porch overlooking the ICW.  Since it was 1630, (blue hair special) we had the place to ourselves, chattin’ and listening to some Blues coming over their nice audio system.  The ride home was a little longer, as we were against the wind, and the lowering sky was starting to spit a little drizzle.  The following morning, when we ambled over for our kayaking ecotour, we sported our raingear and hats.  With high winds and rain all around us, the other couples on the tour opted out.  Bonus.  Suz and I had the guide to ourselves, and according to him, we ended up covering about twice as much ground paddling through miles of protected marshland across the ICW than he usually covered with less-fit folks.  Never rained, but it blew like stink, making the upwind legs a bit more challenging.  After kayaking, we headed across the highway to MarineLand.  After the hurricanes of 2004 and 2006, a decimated MarineLand was a shadow of its’ former self.  Once large enough to be a city, complete with movie studios (Creature From the Black Lagoon, etc.), residences, theater, a water park, and other attractions, the facility was now reduced to a couple of outdoor dolphin pools, some turtle rehab tanks, and an indoor exhibit area largely closed to the public.  Being purchased by the Georgia Aquarium a few years ago probably saved the park from extinction.  As we approached the entrance to the park at the gift shop, we were greeted by the 1950’s era sign that started the Admiral on another trip down memory lane.  When her family had lived in Jacksonville, her Mom had brought her and her sibs here several times.  Suz credits these visits for fueling her interest in, and eventually leading to her degree in marine biology.  After watching the trainers working with the resident dolphins (who, by the way, were all born in human care (not captivity)), we purchased the “behind the scenes” tour, and again were the only participants.  Seeing the physical plant, including the ozonators, aerators, protein skimmers and etc. really enthralled my inner (and outer) nerd.  One of the aquariums’ biologists was finishing work for the day, and when he found out that Suz had been a visitor years ago, and was a biologist grabbed us and gave us an even deeper tour.  He showed us a juvenile octopus that was barely as big as your pinky fingernail, and a young Cowhead Ray that he was tube feeding until it could eat on its’ own as well as lots of other critters.  By the time we left, it was well past closing time, and the end of another great day.  We were having so much fun that we decided to stay another day, so after paying the rent, we hopped back on the bikes and headed south again to the Washington Gardens, a Florida state park.  Originally a plantation owned by a distant relative of George Washington, it was gifted to the state of Florida and became a state park in 1965-donated by Louise and Owen Young, who owned the property from 1936 until 1965.  (A story in itself, Owen was an industrialist, founder of RCA Corporation, chaired the WWII reparations committee, and Time magazine’s “person of the year”.  Louise was a self-made millionaire by age 19.)  We biked the trails through the woods, and were educated in the local flora by the numerous placards describing the various species of vegetation.  After biking, we visited the formal gardens and the visitor’s center, which had exhibits explaining the history of the area.  After our visit to the park, we biked past the marina to the northern extent of the island, where we enjoyed a late lunch at the Matanzas Grill, getting a preview of the following days’ route

As an aside, Matanzas Inlet’s name comes from the Spanish word meaning “slaughter”.  In 1565, the Spanish claimed all of the land which is now Florida.  The French had recently established an outpost (St. Caroline) in the mouth of the St Johns River which would provide the perfect platform for raiding Spanish treasure ships returning from the New World-not good for the Spaniards.  Long story short, in an ill-fated attempt by the French to attack, their ships were blown off course by a hurricane, whereupon they blew ashore somewhere between what is now Daytona Beach and St. Augustine.  Having heard of a group of white men on shore from the Timucuan Indians, the Spaniards mounted a party of fighters to dispatch the French and their fort at St Caroline, then their men on shore to the South.  This resulted in the killing of 350 or so of the French men (Hugenots who would not convert to Catholicism), and the displacement of their women and children who were sent back to France.

The next day, we were anxious to get underway, but figured that we had better wait for the tide to start rising, so we occupied ourselves by cleaning the Girl inside and out.  Finally on our way by 1130, we headed along the familiar route to St. Augustine, where we would meet up with our pals Jeff and Susie who were helping out with Jeff’s Dad while his Mom had her knee replaced.  Instead of mooring at the city, we bypassed and headed to Salt Run, a narrow, and in places shallow, inlet leading up to a marshy bay.  It turned out to be a delightful and quiet spot that was a short dinghy ride from “Idyll Time” where Jeff picked us up and drove us to his folks house, where we met his Pop, Sis, and enjoyed waytoomuch take-out barbeque.  Suz and I hadn’t had a chance to visit the Flagler College dining room, which is housed in the old Flagler Hotel, and is adorned with the world’s largest collection of Tiffany glass windows(79) the last time that we were here, so Jeff’s sister, Sue agreed to take us through as she is a student there.  The next day, we took the tender to the head of the bay, where we felt like we were miles from the city, in marshy lowlands.  The water teeming with mullet, leaping from the water, and then flopping back onto their sides.  We thought that they were catching bugs, but one of the locals explained that this behavior allows these bottom feeders to clean the silt out of their gills-go figure.  At lunchtime, we joined Jeff, Susie, and Sue for lunch at the Conch House Grill.  After lunch, we said our “Goodbye’s” to Jeff and Suzie, who were on the parental duty detail, and headed to Flagler College with Sue. Turns out that the school was in between terms, so the building was closed.  Ever resourceful and determined that Suz and I should see the Tiffany windows, Sue sweet talked a security guard into letting us in, and we had the room to ourselves.  The windows and the room were breathtaking.  Much of the furniture was original, and is used every day by the students eating here.  After spending as much time ogling as we wanted, the guard took us under his other wing, and gave us a tour of the Solarium, located on the 3rd floor, then out onto the roof, where we were treated to a beautiful view of the city and harbor beyond.  Before leaving, we were allowed to enter the Women’s Grand Parlor, which ensconced hand crafted Austrian chandeliers, original art and furnishings as well as a clock sporting the largest single piece of white onyx in the western hemisphere.  Sue then toured us through her church, First Presbyterian, which Henry Flagler built in 1890 to honor his daughter who had died in childbirth a year earlier.  Suz and I agreed that Sue could be our tour guide anytime, and headed back to the boat sporting huge smiles.

-Later             

Goooood Morning

Pulled in to Cocoa around 1430 after an uneventful ride up the ditch.  It’s nice to have the dolphins back with us, playing in our bow wave.  I was surprised at how few there were in the Bahamas, the pictures would have better out there with the crystal clear water.  Anyway, we got the hook down in the west anchorage off Cocoa.  The big hook here was S.F. Travis hardware store.  They’ve been in business for the last hundred years, and supply clients ranging from NASA to the home doityourselfers.  The current owner does business in much the same way as his grandfather.  Over 3,000 customers have accounts there, and the store still does deliveries (although not by barge along the water these days).  Unfortunately, the store hours run from Monday through Friday, so we were unable to do much more than peek through the windows.  We’ll be back.  There were lots of little shops and boutiques to visit, so we did.  The flip-flop shop had a sale going, so I acquired a new pair of Reefs and the Admiral  some dress Sanuks for 75% off.  After wearing my old ones nearly every day for the past year, they were unceremoniously deposited in the trash on the way out of the store.  Back at the boat, the wind had picked up out of the East, driving waves into the anchorage.  With a forecast of increasing winds, we decided to pull anchor, go under the bridge, and anchor on the East side of the ICW.  Moving was a good call, and we had a pleasant night on the hook.  Anticipating a long day, we had the anchor up and were underway by 0630. Finally a Manatee haven! The Haulover canal near Cape Canaveral was full of Manatees, basking in the warm water.  They’re really tough to get a picture of, as the water is dark, and only a bit of the beasts are out of the water at any given moment.  We did get some good looks, though.  Through New Smyrna, we waved at the gang at the city marina as we glided by.  After Suzanne’s call, the bridge tender delayed his opening for a couple of minutes to let us catch up to the group of boats awaiting transit.  A few miles south of Daytona, we were overtaken and passed by an old runabout with 2 adults and 2 kids on board, pushed along by an antique motor which sounded notsogood.  A mile later, one of the men is paddling the boat with a kayak paddle and not making much headway in the current.  None of them had a life preserver on, and they were a couple of miles from anywhere.  After throwing them a line, we towed them to a city boat ramp a couple miles up the Waterway.  By 1600, The Girl was through all of the Daytona bridges and ready to drop anchor north of town.  “Erben Renewal” was there, so we dropped next to her.  When we got up at 0700, Steve and Julia had already taken off, and were nearly out of sight, on their way to St. Augustine.  Since we were only traveling 20 miles, we had our tea and chilled before getting underway at 0800.

-Later

Hey

The rest of Ft. Pierce arrival day was spent doing a few boat chores.  Laundry, vacuuming, and the usual housekeeping stuff were all performed at a less than energetic pace.  Suz and I were going to shut it down early, but some friends of Steve and Julia’s happened to be in the marina, so we all went over for sips and chats.  For dinner, Steve provided the Mahi (fresh caught on the way over), and Suzanne did the cooking.  The blackened fish (grilled), yellow rice and salad were just what the doctor ordered.  Amazingly we stayed awake until 9 pm. After a good night’s sleep, we were ready to search for the post office to mail some clothes that Jan had left aboard during her visit to the Abacos. I am sure she did not miss the shoes.  Bonus!  The post office was in Mervis’ Cuban Café, reportedly the best Cuban food in town.  Kind of a novel setting for a post office, the receipt actually said “U.S. Postal Service, Mervis Café”.  The food and Cuban Coffee was good too.  After eating, we explored town a bit, and stopped at PP Cobb’s General Store which started out as an outfitter and trading post in the early 1800’s, but now specializes in bottled craft beers.  The farmers market opened at 1200, so by 1300 Suz had purchased a couple of beach dresses and some fresh produce.  We had a quiet evening, and left for Vero Beach at 1145 on Thursday.  After a couple hour run, we grabbed a mooring ball off Vero Beach City Marina.  Over the next few days, we enjoyed biking around V.B.  We had breakfast at the Seaside Grill, on the Atlantic side beach twice, and the awesome Ahi nachos (wontons and seaweed w/ wasabi) at the Riverside Grill on the I.C.W.  While the girls took the free bus to do some grocery shopping at Publix, I did my wax on/wax off act, while Steve worked on his injured stern thruster.  Friday night, Julia fed us fresh scallops and shrimp over a bed of pappardelle and cherry tomatoes flavored with pesto olive oil-Yeah Baby.  Suz whipped up her famous cracked wheat rolls. One of Steve’s favorites.   After 6 weeks travelling together and promises to have a movie and popcorn night, the night finally arrives. The viewing aboard “Alizann” featured “White Squall”, starring Jeff Bridges.  One of our kid’s favorite movies when younger.  After the show, we bade the Erbens  a sad farewell after enjoying 6 weeks of comradery with our wonderful travelling companions.  S & J are heading north as well, but at a quicker pace than the crew of “Alizann”.

Sunday morning, the 3rd, and we’re off to Cocoa Beach to anchor for the night.

-Later

Hola,

Saturday, the 25th and we wheel into the southeast anchorage at Alans-Pensacola Cay.  There are 5 sailboats and a motoryacht there already, but there’s plenty of room.  By the time we get the hook down, 4 boats are leaving.  Was it something we said?  Nah, we just got here early, before everyone was up and rollin’.  One of Steve’s buddies told him that there was a good snorkeling spot with plenty of spearable fish over on the Atlantic side, so we braved the 2’ seas for the 4 mile trip out.  We did some ziggin’, then some zaggin’, and some innin’ and some outin’, but couldn’t find the primo spot.  We did get a nice boat ride, though, as we explored a “Hurricane Hole” on the south end of the isle (deep inside but too shallow for The Girl to get through the opening), and an alternate anchorage on the Atlantic side which could provide shelter in a west wind.  Completing our circumnavigation, we were starting to get some wind up from the west, and it looked like it was going to be a bumpy night.  At 0024, we got a gust, and dragged anchor for about 30 yards until the hook grabbed again.  The Admiral woke me up, and we let out another 50’ of chain and backed down on the anchor, getting a good bite.  That was it for the boss.  She slept in the salon with one eye open the rest of the night, while the wind gusted to near 30 knots.  I got the memo.  In the morning, Steve walked over to the other side of the Cay to check out the Bight that we had spied the day before.  It looked a heck of a lot better than where we were (2’ waves rolling in), and there were no other anchorages for miles that provided shelter from the west, so we hauled anchor and rounded the Cay  to calmer waters.  We had a beautiful beach, and a gentle swell rolling in from the Atlantic, so we were fat and happy, even in the stiff westerly breeze.  We tied a line to the stern of Steve’s dinghy and took turns pulling each other (equipped with mask and snorkel) around the bay.  We didn’t see much more than Eel Grass, old Conch shells, and Sea Biscuits but we sure had fun.  While we were playing, Julia was cookin’ up some soup for our dinner.  After dinner, lots of sips and good conversation, Steve taxied us back to the Girl.  As I was drifting off to sleep, Suz checked the GRIB files and saw what appeared to be the only weather window to get back to the States in the next week.  It started the next day, and closed around noon the day after.  All the while, it looked like conditions were becoming favorable for the formation of a major tropical storm later in the week.  Whew!  We decided to take a sleep, and revisit this in the light of day.

April 27th, and the forecast was still lookin’ the same.  After a peaceful night on the hook, it’s now blowing 27 knots sustained.  Any wind over 10 knots with a North component is not good for crossing the Gulf Stream, but the speed was supposed to drop between 1300 and 0000, then move to the East, giving us our window to cross before it went back to the North, accompanied by severe thunderstorms after noon on the 28th.  There was no rush to get out early, as we were timing our passage around wind shifts over the next 30 hours.  We got the anchors up at 0833 and headed across the Little Bahama Bank towards Great Sale Cay, where we planned to lay in the lee of the island until the wind started to moderate and clock to the East.  After running for an hour and a half in 25+ knot winds, the Erben’s decided that towing their dinghy was a no-go.  We tooled into the lee of Moraine Cay, where they dropped their hook and brought their tender up.  By 1615, we had arrived at Great Sale Cay.  The predicted wind shifts looked to be delayed by a couple of hours, so we decided to drop the hooks, take showers, and a little nap.  Anchors up at 1830, the wind had moderated to 11 knots, so off we went.  I took the first watch until midnight, when the wind had dropped to 4 out of the NNW.  At 0400, when I came up to relieve the Admiral, we were clear of the Bank, and there were 7 ships around us, some headed North, some South.  After Suz went back to bed, I didn’t see another vessel until daylight.  The wind had shifted to the East, but the forecast on the severe weather was off by around 6 hours or so.  Two hours out of Fort Pierce inlet, the first storm hit around 0830.  For the next 4 hours as we idled outside the inlet waiting for some visibility, we were pelted by hail, 3”/hour driving rain and winds of 30+ knots, with gusts to 40 (as indicated by our windometer).  In between the severe cells, when visibility improved to over 100 yards, we snuck into the inlet, only to be confronted by a 250’ long dredge turning around in the channel.  The Captain said that we could pass on his starboard if we did so “smartly”.  Twenty-eight and a half hours after our start, the voyage was completed as we tossed our lines in the driving rain at Ft. Pierce City Marina.  “Erben Renewal” followed a half hour later; having caught 4 Mahi Mahi between dawn and the first storm (I was too lazy to wet a line).

-Later

Pages

Captain's Log

Gooooooood Morning!

On Monday, we did the tourist thing.  Mark had a dive trip planned with a local operator, so we hitched a ride in to Christiansted with him.  We had a very tasty breakfast at “The Avocado Pit”, while we waited for Sweeny, who runs a local tour bus business.  Our tour took us to St. George Botanical Gardens, a must-see, after which we traveled to Fredericksted.  There, we toured the old Danish fort, and took lunch at “The Turtle Deli.” The sandwiches were HUGE.  Suzanne and I shared one while gazing out over the water from our picnic table in the shade of Sea Grape trees.  Sweeny rallied the troops, and it was off to the Cruzan Rum distillery, where we went on a guided tour, ending at their asmuchasyouwant tasting room.  Compared to our Bacardi visit, we agreed that this tour was by far the better.

As Mark and Judy were leaving Tuesday morning, they asked us if we wanted to ride along.  “Heck Yeah!”  We spent the day driving around, exploring.  After touring the restored Danish fort in Christiansted, we drove east to Udall Point, the scenic overlook on the easternmost end (and of the USA) of the island. On the way there, we visited the radiotelescope which is the east end of the V.L.B.A. (Very Long Baseline Array), a string of ten identical dishes extending from here to Mauna Kea in Hawaii.  We had lunch on the north coast at “Off the Wall,” on the beach at Cane Bay.  Mark loves getting off the beaten path, so we drove some pretty sketchy roads through the rain forest and along the coast, stopping for Sundowners at “Rainbow Beach Bar” outside Fredericksted.

Wednesday was a hangaroundthemarina day.  We arranged for a car rental (no mean feat-most were taken), and contacted “St. Croix Dive Experience” to secure two spots on their Friday morning dive boat.  Since we hadn’t been diving since the Bahamas a year ago, and we both had new regulators, we thought it’d be best to do a warm-up dive with a professional operator, for safety’s sake.

On Thursday morning, our rentacar was delivered at 09h00, and we were off.  Our first destination was Salt River, where the National Park Service has a visitor’s center overlooking the water. Salt River was the site of Columbus’ 1493 return to NA with 17 ships. This time the natives were not as friendly. The view was tremendous, and the talk by the volunteer ranger was very informative.  We also had a chance to check out Gold Coast Yachts, the boatbuilder where Larry (from Michigan) works.  Heading to the west, we visited Estate Whim, an old sugar plantation which had been restored by the local Historical Society.  Definitely worth the visit.  The awesome sandwiches at the Turtle Deli in Fredericksted were calling, so we had lunch on the beach there.  After our drivearound exploring the backroads of the island, we hit the Cruzan Rum distillery to replenish the ship’s stores.  Mexican Train dominoes provided the evening entertainment.

We were on our way to Christiansted before 08h00, and were at the dock loading our dive gear on the boat by 08h15.  We were fortunate to have the owner of the company, Michelle, as one of the crew.  She’s logged over 10,000 dives around St. Croix, and is a local legend.  Although the water was a bit stirred up from strong winds the previous couple of days, the visibility was still 100’ or so.  Our new SCUBA gear worked well.  Our old dive computers-not so much.  Although we had fired them up the day before, neither wanted to turn on.  Mine is 31 years old, and doesn’t owe me a nickel.  Suzanne’s is only 5 years old, so we were a bit disappointed.  No worries, the crew had a couple for us to use, and all was well.  Although the reef wasn’t very healthy, we saw a fair bit of marine life, highlighted by several Green turtles, Reef sharks, a Spotted Eagle Ray, and a big Stingray.  Of course, all of the smaller usual suspects were present as well.  After a quick shower, and lunch at the “The New Deep End Bar and Grill”, it was time to reprovision.  CostUless is the St. Croix version of Sam’s Club, and we found most of what we needed there.  Their produce looked like it had just come off the boat, so we were happy campers.  On the way home, we stopped at Seaside grocery for the couple of items that we were missing. 

Our friends on dirt often ask us “What do you do all day?” Imagining, I’m sure, that we sit around drinking cute little umbrella drinks while lounging in our hammocks.  Well, yesterday I screwed all day.  I literally crawled from one end of the boat to the other, armed with nutdrivers and screwdrivers, tightening every fastener that I could find.  Loose hose clamps may mean water on the wrong side of the hull, and loose electrical connections make for heat, corrosion, and possibly fire, none of which would be a good thing.  By the time I crawled out of the engine room at 17h30, I looked like I had just gotten out of the shower, and had lost 3 pounds.  Screwing all day takes a lot out of you.  Suz spent the day doing “Admiral stuff”, paying bills, working on our taxes, and etc.  In the evening, Chris (Captain from the Ocean Alexander) and Christina, his wife, picked us up and we all cruised into Christiansted for dinner at “Rumrunners Bar and Grill.” The seafood pasta special was delicious. St Croix is a beautiful, quiet island steeped in history and friendly people. Definitely worth a visit.

It’s Super Bowl Sunday.  Today, we’ll get the Girl ready to leave tomorrow morning.  The plan is to head out to Buck Island, a National Park marine preserve about 3 miles offshore.  You must get a permit from the Park Service (which we did upon our arrival here in St. Croix) to anchor there.  We’ll drop the hook on the lee side of the island there for a few nights and do some snorkeling/diving before heading to St. Bart’s (or St. Martin).  Probably won’t have interweb for awhile, so…..

-Later 

Hola!

Culebrita was a relaxing stop.  We were over from Culebra in around an hour, so arrived around 09h00.  There was only one mooring ball left there, and it looked to be in pretty bad shape, so we took some time to find a spot to anchor.  The bottom rises pretty dramatically from deep water to the shore, and many coral heads were visible in the shallow water.  After poking around a bit, we finally found a sandy patch in 15’ of water.  After letting out 75’ of chain, our stern was now in 30’, and blue water wasn’t far behind.  I was really being a weenie.  Even after swimming the anchor and finding it to be well-set, I was worried that if the Girl dragged, the anchor would be in deep water without a chance to reset itself.  It took about a half hour for me to be okay with leaving her for the day while we hiked onshore.  We dropped the dinghy, and anchored her, tying her stern to shore.  Our first goal was the Culebrita lighthouse, high atop the island.  A half hour walk got us there.  The original lighthouse is in a shambles, but we were able to explore both around and through the structure.  It was pretty typical of the other Spanish colonial buildings that we had seen throughout Puerto Rico, built out of coral blocks, trimmed in brick, with a stucco coating.  The aid to navigation is now provided by a light fixed upon a steel tower, fed by solar panels.  The concrete pad that the tower sat on provided a superb vantage point from which to look out over the ocean, and, behind us, back over the island.  We hiked the interior of the island, through dry forest, to a bay on the north side, to check out the anchorage there.  Since the swell had been running out of the North due to several Cold Front passages coming off the U.S., we had expected the anchorage to be untenable.  Before we were out of the woods, we could hear the surf beating on the shore ahead of us.  The beach was beautiful, but the few boats moored there were all rolling significantly.  We had a walk from end to end, and enjoyed our lunch in the shade of a palm tree just above the high water line.  After lunch, we hiked back to the other side of the island, hauled anchor, and motored back over to Culebra, where we anchored behind the reef in Bahia Almovodar(las Pelas to locals).  On the chart, this bay looks wide open to the sea, but in fact it is well-protected by a reef under one foot of water.  It’s rather stunning to see the sea, which was running around three feet, stop suddenly as the waves hit the shallow water, becoming transformed to three inch ripples.  We ended up staying for two nights, exploring the mangroves surrounding the bay by dinghy, and just enjoying the solitude (until just before dark on the second day, there was only one other boat in the bay, anchored ½ mile away).  The Girl also got prettied up below the waterline when I donned the SCUBA gear and armed myself with various scrapers to relieve her of the slimies and crusties that she had accumulated.

We were outta there on Saturday morning.  As predicted, the seas were running around 2-4’, winds 14kn.  As soon as we hit deep water a couple hours out, the lines were in.  After fishing for 5 hours, we had to ready the fenders and lines for our stay on St. Croix.  All we had to show for our pescadarian efforts were a couple of short strikes resulting in ruined baits.  No fish tonight.  The entry in to Green Cay Marina is pretty narrow, and very shoal on one side, but we entered without incident.  After beating into the wind for 7 hours, the Girl was pretty salt-encrusted, but an hour or so of attention from the crew brought her back to her spiffy self.  The marina here is attached to a hotel/resort property, and staying at the marina allowed us use of the entire grounds, including the pool, tennis courts, spa, paddle boards, and etc.  The next morning, we stopped by Rubicon, the Ocean Alexander that we had met in Ponce, Puerto Rico, to pay our respects to Chris (the guy who prevented our boat from smashing the dock there).  He wasn’t on the boat, but the owner was, and we had a nice conversation with her. Our exploratory walk didn’t last long before we were seated at an outdoor table overlooking the ocean enjoying omelets.  We spent the rest of day just hangin’ around the property.  Suz got some computer work done, while I did some troubleshooting on, and repairing a hinky battery charger.  Back over to the resort, under the shade of a palapa, I examined the inside of my eyelids while the tour director laid plans for our siege of the island in the coming week.  We had sips that evening with Larry, Mark, and Judy aboard “Alizann”.  Larry is a friend of a friend from Harbor Springs, MI, who lives on his boat here with his wife, Amy.  He is a boatbuilder by trade.  They sailed their home-built trimaran (a rocketship named “Morello”) down here three years ago.  He is a foreman for a custom boat builder here, while she is a nurse in the hospital.  Mark and Judy are our neighbors here on the dock, retired and hailing from Minnesota.

Getting kinda wordy, so we’ll start exploring St. Croix

-Later

Buenos Dias

Isla Chivas.  What can I say?  We threaded our way in through the reef at midmorning.  Warning buoys surrounded the Isla alerting to “unexploded ordinance”.  Having read previous posts, we knew that the warnings pertained to expeditions to shore, not for anchoring.  We coasted in to 12’ of water, and searched for a sandy patch to drop our hook.  Suz expertly put the Girl’s bow over a white area, and I dropped the anchor dead center.  Backing down, the anchor bit on the first try.  We didn’t bother to launch “White Star”, instead got the kayaks wet.  Our azure blue anchorage was ringed by white sand beaches-a postcard perfect setting.  Kayaked around the bay, then walked the beaches, searching for “treasures” most of the day.  We scored lots of beach glass, and some small urchins for our collection.  Suz found a nice Helmet shell, but it was inhabited, so we threw him back, not wanting to ruin his day.  Numerous signs on shore admonished us to follow the 3 R’s-Recognize, Retreat, and Report, concerning unexploded ordinance on shore.  We didn’t see nuthin’.  Returning to Alizann, we polished some of her stainless, giving her some much-needed love.  Late afternoon brought in two ultra-lights with floats landing in the bay, providing a show for us.  Dinner, Tuscan chicken in the Admiral’s new electric InstaPot, was taken over another sublime sunset.

We were off the hook by 07h00.  The Admiral was crackin’ the whip for some fresh fish.  I rigged up some Ballyhoo baits, and we headed for deep water on the way to Culebra, our next Spanish Virgin Island destination.  All we got to show for our efforts was one Toothacuda, and 2 spoiled baits.  Our Christmas present from our son, a baby monitor, however, performed admirably.  When the fishing reel in the cockpit started spooling out, we heard it loud and clear, even over the music crankin’  in the pilothouse.  We love technology!  By 13h45 we had the hook set in the bay out of Dewey, (named for the Admiral) Culebra.  We planned to stay here for a couple of days while we explored the island.  After getting the boat squared away, we headed to shore in the dinghy on a quick reconnaissance mission.  It only took an hour to walk all of the streets of Dewey.  The little village was quite colorful, with gaily painted buildings, and many murals.  We found that the “Dinghy Dock” restaurant/bar had a happy hour(s) with Medalla beers for two-fifty, but more importantly, the fastest internet connection that we had seen in a long time.  Instead of taking 2-3 minutes (or more) to upload a picture, we could get one up in around 30 seconds.  Bonus!  Let’s have another beer.  We were feeling the need for some exercise, so the following morning, we loaded the backpacks with our beach togs, and headed to Flamenco Beach, (another) one of the most beautiful beaches in the world.  It was a good three-mile haul, and we were rewarded with a truly beautiful beach, where we spent the day snoozin’, swimmin’, and strollin’.  At one end of the mile-long beach was an old U.S. Army tank, slowly being reclaimed by the sea.

That kinda brings us to the U.S. military presence on Vieques/Culebra.  During the 1940’s, the U.S. Navy purchased around 22,000 acres (or, about 2/3 of the island of Vieques) for military purposes.  The Eastern end of the island was used for live-fire exercises, including ship to shore, and air to ground bombing.  The Western end of the island was used as an ammunition depot.  In around 2003, the Navy ceased operations, and returned the island to the Puerto Rican government.  Since that time, the U.S. government has spent around $220 M to clean up contaminated lands on Vieques.  Given the terrain (jungle and heavy overgrowth), the cleanup is far from complete.  Thus, the numerous warning signs around certain areas of the island.  No political commentary-Just sayin’.

Today, the 25th, we rented a jeep and did the beach tour of Culebra.  We visited every beach on the map, sometimes traversing rocky two-tracks to get there.  Didn’t do much sunbathing, but we saw and walked them all.  The peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were good, but didn’t stick to the ribs, so when we returned to town we headed to the “Dinghy Dock”.  The Grouper sandwich and the Ahi/Romaine salad hit the spot, washed down with some cold Cokes.  Before we headed back to the Girl, we strolled over to “Mamacita’s” for a couple of Bushwackers (as recommended by friends at Palmas).  Tomorrow, we’ll head over to Culebrita with the Girl, to do some SCUBA diving, after which we plan to anchor in Almodovar Bay, back on Culebra, for a couple of days before we head to St. Croix in the U.S. Virgin Islands.  I’m guessin’ no interweb for awhile, so…..

-Later

Hola Amigos,

Yeah, Baby!  Off the dock by 10h00 on Friday, the 20th day of the New Year.  The seas were dead calm for our three hour trip to Vieques.  We ran out to the deep water and wet a couple of lines, but no joy.  Besides the gorgeous beaches, one of the prime “must do’s” on Vieques is visiting the “Bio Bay”.  It’s a bay on the south coast of the island that is filled with bioluminescent organisms, visible only at night.  No motorized vessels are permitted in the bay, so the alternatives are to anchor a couple of miles away, then dinghy over in the dark, or take one of the guided tours by rented kayak.  The weather was so settled, with the swell out of the North that the Admiral said “why don’t we just go over and anchor behind the reef at the opening of the bay?”  I wasn’t so sure, as the few reviews that we had read on “Active Captain” (our crowd-sourced Bible), recounted stories of miserable, rolly nights in this spot.  It was early in the afternoon, so “What the heck, let’s check it out.”  Working our way behind the reef wasn’t as daunting as the charts suggested.  We found a patch of sand in 15’ of water, and fired the anchor down dead center.  As I was swimming the anchor to make sure that it had set well, a sailboat coasted in next to us and dropped their hook nearly on top of ours.  Hmmm……. I didn’t say anything, but wasn’t real pleased.  As I’m getting back on the boat, the Captain of the other boat asks me if I’m okay with where he’s anchored.  I reply that he looks like he knows what he’s doing, so if he’s okay, I’m okay.  Fifteen minutes later, he has his crew scrambling to fend off, as he’s 4’ from our starboard rail.  Now attuned to the error in his ways, he gets his anchor up and moves.  Muchas Gracias.  Guess I should say Danke Schoen-German flag.  We dropped the kayaks, had dinner, and paddled in just after dark.  The show was incredible.  Every dip of our paddles left a trail of white light in the water, and luminescent wakes followed our boats as we glided along in the moonless night.  Blowing on a cupped hand full of water elicited a shower of blue-white sparkles.  We could only imagine what the bay must look like in a rain shower, each drop firing up a burst of light.  What a trip!

So let’s talk some biology.  Dinoflagellates?  They’re single celled organisms (actually plankton).  These little critters are able to transform chemical energy into light, utilizing an enzyme called Luciferase and oxygen.  There are several theories as to why these little guys produce light, but, whatever.  When the pressure of their surroundings changes, they let out a burst of light which lasts about a tenth of a second.  One shot, then they’re done until they are able to synthesize some more Luceriferon the next day through photosynthesis.  Dinoflagellates are present in the ocean, but not in the concentration that is found in this “Biobay”.  (In a saltwater flush toilet on a boat, you often get a light show when you take a pee in the dark.  But then, I digress).  So, why are there so many of these flashy little critters in bays like this?  First, there’s the narrow entrance.  Then, there’s the wide, shallow bay behind that entrance which allows for warming, and increased evaporation which results in high salinity.  The very salty water gets heavy, and sinks to the bottom of the bay.  As new ocean water enters the bay, moved by the prevailing winds on the ocean, the heavy, salty water on the bottom is forced out.  Since the dinoflagellates live on the surface, their concentration increases.  Add into the mix the Black and Red Mangroves that line the edge of the bay.  Their leaves fall into the water, and as they decompose, provide vitamin B-12, and other essential nutrients for our little lightmeisters.  Voila!  A natural tourist attraction.

We backtracked a couple of miles back to the bay outside Esperanza to take in Vieques’ second-largest town the next day.  May or may not have been worth a stop, but we can say that we did it.  We went to shore, and strolled along the malecon (shore, pier, boardwalk), passing by a couple of beachbar-type restaurants.  Then, we dinghied along several miles of shoreline outside of town to the west, then around the point to the east, anchoring in Sun Bay, where we walked the beach for a mile or so.  Around sunset, the live music started (it was Saturday night).  We were forewarned, but it was loud.  Not just loud, but LOUD!  I like my music, but I can tell you that at 02h27 when it stopped, I was extremely relieved.  Sunday morning was a sleep-in day (imagine that), so we didn’t get off the hook until around 09h00, headed east, with Isla de Chivas as our destination.

-Hasta Luego

Feliz ano Nuevo,

The trip back to the States was outta sight.  We stayed at Suzanne’s sister and brother-in-law’s home atop a mountain outside of Asheville, North Carolina.  Their home is large enough to accommodate the whole fam damily, and it’s always a nonstop party from the minute we arrive.  After a couple of days of one on one time with Mike and Sheila, the rest of the gang started rolling in.  Both of our kids and their spouses made it for a few days each, and we were able to see most of our nieces and nephews as well as all of Suz’s sibs and Mom.

After returning to Puerto Rico, and settling back into the marina, where Alizann had spent a couple of windy but uneventful weeks, we were ready for some exploration by land.  On the first day of the new year, our trusty little rentacar took us to El Yunque National Forest.  EYNF is the only U.S. national forest which is a tropical rainforest.  After hitting the visitors center for a quick orientation video, we hiked a couple of short loops, one of which took over a steamy trail running next to a river which culminated in a pretty waterfall.  Water dripped from the lush green foliage, and bromeliads sprouted from every fork in the trees branches.  Huge termite nests occupied many of the deciduous trees appearing like bulbous brown tumors.  Given the paucity of hikers along the trail, I was surprised at the number of folks swimming at the base of the waterfall, destroying the illusion of being in the wilderness.  The trip to the park was definitely worth it, and we agreed to a return engagement later in the week.

The next day took us to the giant radiotelescope at Arriceibo.  First conceived in 1960, and completed in 1963, the radiotelescope was, and is, the largest radiotelescope on the planet, with its’ 1,000-foot diameter spanning a large natural sinkhole in the Puerto Rican karst mountains.  Over the last 50-odd years, an incredible amount of ground breaking research has been done there, including one project which resulted in a Nobel prize.  The facility is not only capable of receiving radio signals and photons from deep space.  It also broadcast our first intergalactic “postcard” sometime in the 1970’s.  Studies ranging from identifying gravitational waves (creating proof of some of Einstein’s theories), following Near Earth Objects potentially capable of colliding with our planet, and, closer to home, studying our stratosphere, name just a few.  The facility is funded by NSF, the National Science Foundation, and researchers compete for time on the dish by submitting proposals, only the best of which are accepted.  We spent around 2 hours there, observing the dish from the visitor’s center, located high on the slope over it, and viewing an informative video.  That afternoon was not so high-brow.  We toured the Bacardi distillery, which was good fun, but maybe could have been better-I’d give 3 out of 5 stars.

Next day, it was back to El Yunque for the hike to the summit.  We started out surrounded by mostly deciduous trees, which transitioned to a Sierra Palm forest that gave way to scrubby bush as we ascended, and the soil got thinner.  Emerging at the top, we were treated to a spectacular 360-degree view.  A peanut butter and jelly sandwich never tasted so good.  The drive home took us by the huge (1000 slip)marina at Fajardo, rumored to be the largest in the entire Caribbean.  While having a snack at the restaurant there, we patted ourselves on the back for choosing to stay at Palmas.

Ya can’t come to Puerto Rico without experiencing Old San Juan.  Suzanne arranged for a private walking tour to start out our day, using an outfit called “Tours by Locals”.  Our guide Jorge, met us promptly at 09h00, and spent 4 hours with us, showing us the high points of the Old city.  He was extremely knowledgeable and personable, and the hours just flew by.  It was the first time that we hadn’t used our travel agent back home for a local guide in a new city, and we did so with some trepidation, but the experience was good, and the cost was a fraction of what we have spent in the past (whenever we explore a city that’s new to us, we always hire a guide so that we don’t miss the good stuff, and, from time to time get in the back door where tourists don’t tread)  By the time 13h00 rolled around, we had already exchanged reading lists with our guide who, by the way had a Masters in Microbiology and had been involved in some marine research (See Suzanne Tuck, Marine Biology and Freshwater Ecology).  We also questioned him about the company, Tours by Locals, and he told us that he was pretty happy with the way that they treated him, and was planning to keep them as his booking agents.  So……we’ll use them again in other cities.  We explored on our own for the rest of the afternoon, and returned the following day, primarily to tour the two Spanish forts, El Morro, and El Castillo, which guard this strategic entry into the Caribbean.

You can’t rent a car without having a “provisioning day”, so Sam’s, Walmart, and Ralph’s Wholesale Foods occupied most of the next day

Over the next few weeks, the wind continued to blow like stink, (we even heard that the cruise ships were staying in port up in San Juan) and since our reservation was for a months’ stay, we just enjoyed Palmas.  We walked most mornings, exploring many of the 2,700 acres in the facility.  Middays found us doing boatchores, including some varnishing around our windows inside the Girl, repairing some hairline gelcoat cracks, and re-sewing some of our Velcro closures on the canvas.  Afternoons at the pool overlooking the ocean were spent reading and sharing stories with our many new friends here at the marina.  Suz, our entertainment director, organized potluck dinners at the Tiki Bar (which just services the marina clients) on the night of the NCAA national championship, and due to the overwhelming positive response, the following week for the NFL playoff games.  While still here in the U.S.A., I was also able to take care of a little medical issue which was discovered over Christmas back in the States.  You know that we don’t eat out a whole lot, but we did a couple of times and have this to report:  The Punta Vista restaurant on the roof of the Hotel Milano in Old San Juan had an outdoor section, and served pretty decent Mofongo.  The Restaurant on the Plaza, here at Palmas, serves up very fresh Italian cuisine (we ate there twice).  The Mexican restaurant at Palmanova, here at Palmas also, was a “don’t bother”.  Our Tiki Bar served an awesome, half-pound (no exaggeration) bacon cheeseburger- the ultimate cure for the toomuchfunthenightbefore blues.  Outside Palmas, and up the Panorama Highway southwest of the gate was El Nuevo Horizonte perched on the side of the mountain overlooking the ocean.  The food there was pretty solid.  We just had lunch, but the guy at the table next to us was eating a whole flash-fried fish that looked super.  A couple miles outside the gate was the Delicia Café and Bakery, with delicious panini sandwiches, made on a half-loaf of Cuban bread, feeding 2 for $6.  (Stopped there 3 times).  In Ariceibo, the Salitre de Meson, had a beautiful outdoor dining area right on the beach.  With the waves crashing in, the food probably tasted better than it actually was.

Okay, so it’s the 19th.  We’re 2 days past our intended stay of a month.  The wind dropped this morning like somebody flipped a switch, and the seas have been subsiding all day.  We have been expecting this break for almost a week, so will be heading to Vieques for a few days starting tomorrow.  Always bittersweet to leave newfound friends, but we’ll see some of them along the way, and there are new pals right around the corner.

So, as we start the New Year, our tally is: 4,197 nautical miles this year, 14,602 nautical miles since leaving Michigan.

-Hasta Luego

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