2.22.14

Georgie’s Shore Leave

Saturday February 22, 2014

2.22.14

We had plans to leave today to head further up the Keys, slowly making our way to Miami instead of doing it in one quick jump, but we had a little bit of a hold up this morning. The 3M 5200 we had purchased to seal up one of the front ports in the v-berth was not the fast drying tube. Having completed the project around four o’clock yesterday afternoon, we didn’t read the part about needing 24 hours to set until it was too late. Looks like we were stuck in Key West for one more day. Neither of us felt like going to shore, there wasn’t anything we needed, we’d already seen all the touristy things to do there, and truthfully, we were kind of sick of paying the $6 fee to land our dinghy. There was one place we could go though, that wouldn’t charge us anything.

For the past few days we’ve been looking at Georgie and thinking ‘Poor thing, she has nothing to do on this boat’. Even in Isla at least there were always minnows and needle nose fish swimming right next to the hull for her to stare at, here there was nothing. Eying the small an uninhibited Wisteria Island that we were anchored right next to we thought, ‘Sure, why not? Let’s take the cat in to walk around’. We placed her in her harness that she normally wears on passage, clipped her leash on, and stuck her in the dinghy. She was not pleased about this part. In fact, I may have received a few new scratch marks to my arm while trying to wrangle her out of the corner next to the dodger where she likes to spend most of her days. Then a quick pass to the dinghy where we shoved off before she had the opportunity to jump back on the boat. Believe me, she was aiming herself to.

Just like her last dinghy ride in Guatemala where we were bringing her back from her catsitter’s, she whined and howled and made noises that would make all other cruisers in the anchorage think that we were performing acts of animal cruelty. As soon as the dinghy pulled up on shore though, she was in love. Not knowing what to think of the situation she sat in the dinghy staring out until we picked her up and placed her on solid ground, something her feet haven’t touched in four months. Then just like a scent hound, her nose hit the ground as she took in this unfamiliar earth, sniffing her way up and down a small patch of the coral lined shore. The search broadened as she made her way up to weeds and bushes, tucking herself under a shaded spot to sprawl out and chew on leaves and twigs.

When it was apparent that she would probably stay in this one spot all afternoon unless forced out, we picked her up and placed her down on the shoreline once more, keeping a slow and steady pace as she trotted along side. This is only the second time we’ve tried to actually walk her on her leash, the first time being when we first purchased it back in St. Augustine, taking her for spins around the boat yard. She wasn’t too ecstatic about it at that time, but now she was acting like a complete natural, filling the need for just a moment of the K-9 companion that Matt has been missing for the past two and a half years. The three of us walked about a quarter of a mile down the beach before we let Georgie off her leash to do a little exploring on her own. There was a noise in the bushes that caught her attention and she was keen to investigate.

When she didn’t come out and we were 90% sure that a snake lived in the hole that she was probing, we once more had to pick her up and set her on a new course where she happily trotted along side us again. In true cat fashion though, it didn’t take much longer after this before the amount of exercise became too great and she plopped on her side, thwarting any plans of ours to continue on. Giving her a pretty decent rest period we found out that this was in fact it for her for the day. Tugging on the leash did not get her moving again, but instead left a trail snaking through the coral as she dragged behind. Carrying her back to the beach by the dinghy we tried once more to get her to walk around, but her only interests were sitting in the tall grass under a tree. All in all her actual walk only lasted about five to ten minutes, with the other 45 minutes sitting and resting, but I think it was the perfect little escape from her every day boat life, if even for just a little bit.

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walking Georgie

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Matt & Georgie

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Seeing Key West by Scooter

Thursday February 20, 2014

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It looks as if my prediction of staying on the boat to surf the web only half came true. Since we’ve been here we’ve gotten into an every other day habit, where one day we’ll stroll through town or run errands and the next day we’ll hang out on the boat. Each time we’ve been able to get off the boat it’s been a treat, not just to check out the cool things that Key West has to offer, but to get myself on solid ground that’s not moving beneath me. Not only is there barely any protection from the elements here, we’re only blocked from the Gulf of Mexico by two dinky little islands, but we’ve managed to park ourselves in a spot where all the tour boats and fishing boats like to get up on plane and come right between us and the next boat, rocking us so hard that items on the counter will slide right over the lip and come crashing to the floor. We’ve managed to break one more Corelle coffee mug and get to add it to the items to replenish/replace while we’re here in the states. I have to say though, the sunsets in this spot are spectacular and make it well worth all the rocking and rolling that goes on during the day. While our cockpit faces SW in the evening, I cozy back with a Mexican beer or the last bit of boxed wine in my hand and unwind after a long day of Facebooking. These are some tough times we’re living in..

After having spent the past five days discovering Key West by foot, I was finally able to wrangle that scooter ride that we never ended up taking in Isla Mujeres, and transfer my credits here. From the bank of Matt. While strolling the sights on foot yesterday, we found a little scooter shop all the way at the end of Duval St. that would let us rent a double scooter for $40/day. Getting ourselves back there at 10:00 this morning, after a stop a Starbucks to begin using those gift cards, we signed off on the paperwork and Matt took a test drive through the parking lot before we decided to be the only people here that actually would don helmets, and rode off into the late morning sunrise. Wanting to get as many miles in as possible with wheels under our feet we joked that we should make a break for US 1, seeing how far up the Keys we could make it (does Key Largo sound feasible?) before determining that the outer parts of Key West would actually be good enough for us.

The first stop of the morning was Smathers Beach, a popular spot recommended to us after asking for suggestions of what to do here. It was just a little further than either of us wanted to wander on foot before but we figured if we both really liked it, it might be worth the walk next time. Parking on the side of the road and stepping on to the nearly deserted beach, we were struck by how completely different it was from Playa Norte in Isla Mujeres. We were used to palm trees that lined the whole beach all the way down to the shore, providing some shade and beauty, leading to postcard blue waters while music thumped from little bars and restaurants just behind us. This was just one long strip of sand with some palm trees shielding you from the road, with somewhat murky looking water waiting for you at the shoreline. Putting my snobbery aside for a second, I’m sure this place 1. has a lot of sediment being tossed up at the moment due to all the strong winds we’ve been having lately, leaving the water not quite in it’s best form, and 2. it is actually a very nice beach when you’re not comparing it to the picture perfect one you’ve just come from. But I am.

After that we hopped back on the scooter and aimlessly began driving around, trying to see sights that we hadn’t made it to before. There were just a couple, such as the cemetery and the area by the naval base, but it turns out we had already seen most of the good stuff since it’s all grouped by where the cruise ships are. We had only been on the scooter for an hour and a half before figuring this out, and even though we’d already walked Duval St and it’s surrounding shops before, we parked ourselves to get off and walk them once more. Lunch time was also growing near and we needed to find at least one of the recommended places given to us to eat at. The first stop was by far the most popular suggestion, Blue Heaven for breakfast. Luckily they served it a few hours into lunch time, but unluckily for Matt who hates just about every kind of breakfast food, they hadn’t started their lunch menu yet. Hopping back on the scooter we parked ourselves in front of the Green Parrot and sat ourselves at the bar, ready to get some grub. Just before placing our drink orders we found out this establishment did not actually serve food, and dejected, we walked next door to Charlie Mac’s. Opting to split one of their large baskets featuring a beef brisket, we were instantly transferred back to Mojo’s in St. Augustine where we’ve had some of the most amazing beef brisket in the world. This was no different. Even the sides of macaroni & cheese and cornbread were to die for. Plus it didn’t hurt that we had the owner stopping in for lunch at the table in front of us, and he kept passing back his own plate of brisket for us to nibble off of.

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Since we did have a set of wheels at our disposal and no more sights that we really had to see that day, we put our scooter to good use by making runs out to the grocery store on the other side of the island to stock up Serendipity with things that she’s sorely been missing since Cayman. First was a run to Publix where Georgie was finally able to get good clumping fresh scented litter again, and we loaded ourselves up with about 15 blocks of Cabot cheese that was on special. There was also enough food to get us through the next few days, and back we went to Serendipity to drop off all our goods. Making one more food run, we switched to the Winn Dixie this time, which was having a special on a few of our old favorites, Coke and Kraft macaroni & cheese. And that’s all that we bought there. Coming up to the check out counter with 20 liters of pop and 10 blue boxes of mac & cheese, I assume that the cashier expected the conversation between Matt and I to be somewhere along the lines of “Cleatus, we better git back to the trailer park to watch the grankids so Darlene can get to her shift at Pink Cheetah. Make sure’n sign her form cause she’s a minor.”

By the time we made our multiple runs to the grocery stores it was nearing five o’clock and the scooter needed to make it’s way back to the rental facility. Not having gotten much entertainment in for the day, we slowly strolled Duval St. on the way back, watching all the people that were already pretty intoxicated just as happy hour was beginning. Walking by one of the restaurants that had benches and bars facing the sidewalk, a group of about 4 guys were rating each woman as she walked by. I hadn’t even noticed this until we had already passed and Matt was looking back with a shocked faced to see that I’d only been rated as an 8, but I think I have to agree with the guys on that one. Slightly sweaty with helmet hair? I think I could have done much worse.

Another popular suggestion of things for us to do in Key West was check out the street performers that come out near sunset in Mallory Square. Everyone was just setting up shop as we walked in, the vendors with their food and drinks, and the performers with their shows. Since there wasn’t much else happening at the moment we wandered over to a guy that had a sign for swallowing swords. He did some performances for the Ripley’s Believe It Or Not located there, and also took to the streets at night for extra tips. We watched on, crowded as close to his little line as we could get, as he stuck a sword around two feet long down his throat, did a little spin, and then bended down on one knee. It was a good thing we had just a little bit of cash on us and were able to tip him a dollar for the pleasure of watching. Moments after that show ended we heard calls from just a few feet away, a fire swallower that was trying to gather a crowd. Stepping up to his line, we watched a much longer show as he first did in fact swallow fire for the crowd, and then wrapped himself up in a straight jacket, and then had multiple chains looped and locked to his body. We’d seen shows like that before, and being able to lock my hands together behind my back and bring them up around my head without ever letting go myself, I know that a little bit of knowledge and some flexibility can get you out of that. But the jokes were funny, and most of the other performers were still setting up, so it was worth another dollar out of our pocket.

Our last performance of the day was two young guys, possibly brothers, performing acrobatic feats, almost in a Cirque du Soleil style. We missed the first few minutes to it, but later found out they call themselves The Red Trouser Show and perform all over the US. The show was actually quite long, about 20 minutes, and included things like juggling knives, juggling fire, doing handstands off the other’s palms and other general jumps and flips. Matt was actually brought in for part of the show, where he spent most of it holding a rope and wondering why he was doing this, but for their last feat they climbed a very high ladder that needed support from each corner, and while Matt and three other guys did this, one of the RTS guys placed himself horizontally from the ladder while supporting the other RTS guy who kicked up his legs in the other direction. It looks like their shows are pretty popular across the country, and I can see why. I’d follow them anywhere.

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Coming to America

Saturday February 15, 2014

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When we arrived to Key West I had resigned myself to the fact that I’d have to go back to having internet only every 2-3 days when I could drag Matt to a McDonald’s to use their services, and usually only for an hour at a time. Imagine my surprise when as soon as the anchor was down, Matt had found a signal and already got us connected. Don’t worry, this isn’t going to turn into a story of how we never left the boat because we were busy surfing the web (although I could see that happening depending on how long we stay here), but I tell you this because we had the gift of being able to research where the hell we were supposed to go here to land the dinghy. Or do anything, really. Don’t laugh at me, I had visions in my head of getting to Key West to anchor ourselves among 8-10 other boats, and seeing shore access right in front of us, preferably on a sandy beach with no cost associated with tying up. Hello, the budget game is still running. Keep in mind that I had never researched anything on Key West before we left, only how to get there. So when we dropped anchor last night among 100 other masts that I could make out and looked at the multiplying condo complexes in front of us, I knew this was going to be harder than I initially imagined. This new internet connection of ours told us where we could land the dinghy and even how to get there from where we were. For the cost of $6 a day. Ugh.

Our internet access also allowed us to make a call to Customs to find out that we personally could not check in solely based on a phone call as our guide book told us (damn!), but that we could visit the airport the next morning and get it done there. This morning we brought our dinghy up to the marina listed online to find out where exactly it was we were supposed to tie up, and immediately got a mouthful from the marina employee for not tying up where we were supposed to. Thanks guy, that’s what I was coming to ask you. As soon as he sent us on our way with a glare in his eye, we were greeted and ushered in by a dinghy full of,…hmmm, there’s no way to say this,..hillbillies that gave us half toothed smiles as they waved us in while trying not to spill the Busch Light out of their cans. Welcome to America.

Our first important stop of the day, almost more important than getting ourselves check in, was a stop at the Post Office to pick up the care package my mom sent, the one that’s been trying to get to us since December. That’s ok though, because a longer delay meant more time to add requests to fill the box. Which then turned into two. Oops. While shuffling through the boring but necessary things, the debit card we hadn’t had access to since October, the the sewing kit for repairing sails and thick fabrics, we were able to get to the good things. For me at least, I don’t think Matt was excited. While he waded through all kinds of paperwork that we hadn’t been able to receive in months, I pulled out pairs and pairs of new sunglasses, sundresses, Skittles. There were Snickers, Starbucks gift cards, and a Snuffelupagus. Sorry, I got carried away there on my S’s. That last one was actually supposed to be gourmet coffee grounds. To say I was a little excited to receive this package was an understatement. We also received back, on loan, our Waterway Guide to Florida that we had sent to our friends Jackie and Ron when we left Florida last year and thought we’d never be back. Turns out we were wrong. We’ll just take that back for a few weeks…

From our internet connection we were also able to discover that the airport is completely on the other side of the island. Not that we’re not normally up for a hike, but when the officer on the phone last night said morning, did he mean before 12 noon morning? As in, the office will be closed, if you don’t get here in the morning?! Because in that case, even though I like to consider myself in good shape, I didn’t know if I could walk the 5 miles in less than an hour. A taxi it was going to have to be. The last thing we needed was Border Protection exiling us from our own country because we didn’t check into the country before Monday and Matt, who does actually follow the rules, couldn’t keep his wife from wandering up and down Duval St after three days at sea.

Rushing ourselves out to the Arnold Building to make sure the American government didn’t have a reason to hate us we found out that not only was the office open until 7 that night, but Border Patrol wouldn’t even be back for over an hour as they were currently out inspecting one of the cruise ships that had just come in. It wasn’t all bad though, we found a vending machine that offered Mountain Dew, our first taste of it since Colombia, and wandered through the tourist shops where they were pawning sea beans with peace signs and hearts on them for $6. I just smiled, remembering all the ones we’d collect on the beaches of the Bahamas for free.

When we finally saw life inside the Border Patrol building again, we went inside for what was probably the easiest check in procedure we’ve ever done. Even better than Cayman, which had been high on my list of We’ll never get this lucky again. Maybe it’s because we had an a-hole agent walking out the door when we first arrived to tell us that they wouldn’t be back to help us for hours, and when they did, there would be a thorough inspection of our boat, it’s contents, and every piece of food in the chill box; but we were blessed with someone much friendlier when we got back the second time. It was just one form, $19, five minutes, and we were out the door. The only thing that really, I mean really surprised me, is that not one of the officers batted an eye at my over-dialated eyes. Did I forget to mention that I got the other one this morning while doing my make-up? I guess I must have brushed one of my fingers over the spot that my scopolamine patch had been sitting on and accidentally rubbed it into my good eye. If these men are supposed to be looking for suspicious behavior, it was literally written all over my face. I looked like I had been trying every kind of drug Mexico has to offer. Maybe my tank top was just lower cut than I knew and they didn’t even realized I had a face, who knows?

Continuing on with our day of excitement: care packages and legal entry back into our country, we set our sights on finding some good ol’ American fast food. Walking the two miles from the airport to the fast food district, we passed on McDonald’s before setting our sighs on Wendy’s.  With greasy burgers and cheesy bacon fries placed in front of us, we dug in like there was no tomorrow and were soon paying for our mistake.  After not eating food like this for so long our stomachs were not liking the sudden change.  As we wandered out of the building and down the street, I think the only words that either of us could mutter were “I think I’m going to die…”.  Maybe this is the opportunity to kick our fast food habit for good?  We’ll let you know how that one turns out.

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Wish You Were Here

That’s right, we’ve been off the grid so long now that I have to start going retro.  Believe me, I would LOVE to show you the photos of what we’ve been up to the past six weeks, but I don’t want to give away any spoiler alerts before I can get posts up on the area.  Plus really, until I get those posts up I won’t even know what photos are extras that I can share with you now.  So instead let’s take a little trip back in time to before we reached the Bahamas….

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Full moon at St. Augustine Marine Center

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Let’s Go To the Mall

Friday March 15, 2013

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Our stay here in Lake Worth has been pretty uneventful.  We’ll get off the boat every other day to make it into town and take advantage of the wifi at McDonald’s, but otherwise we’ve just been sitting on the boat.  It is nice to finally be in an area that has temperatures in the mid to upper 70’s ever day, but that front that’s been blowing through all week zaps all heat away when we’re on the water and exposed to 20-25 knot winds every day.  I had grand plans of counting down til Saturday while lounged out in my bikini and working on my tan so I wouldn’t be a pasty northerner when I got to the Bahamas, but those plans have been zapped as well.  So for the most part we’ve spent our afternoons below deck while I’ll scan through photos and Matt will play chess on his touchpad.  I did finally get my Nook working again, I found out it just wasn’t charged enough, duh, so I’ve also spent my afternoons blissfully reading away.  After four months without it, it feels so good to be able to read a book again.

Our run into town Wednesday basically was only for McDonald’s and wifi, so I won’t even bore you with the details of that.  Let’s just say that I have a great husband for letting me spend three hours there while I uploaded posts, responded to e-mails, and Facebooked with friends.  Today however, we did have a few more errands to run than the usual.  Taking the dinghy with our three 5 gallon jerrycans, we ran up to one of the local marinas to fill up with diesel for the trip.  The tank on the boat is nearly full now, so only one of the jerrycans should need to be put in there to top it off while the other two will be used as reserve.  Then our next mission was to find the post office.  Currently our bookcase is overstuffed with volumes of Waterway Guides that we have no use for anymore since we don’t know if or when we’ll be back to those areas, and we don’t feel like storing them for four years ‘just in case’.  Instead of throwing them away or leaving them at a local marina for any other cruisers that want them, we wanted to make sure they went to our soon-to-be cruising friends back home, Jackie and Ron.  After all, how could we deny them something we know they’ll need after they just had a bottle of Kraken hand delivered to us?

Finding out that the address given to us for the post office was two miles from the main corner we normally start at, we began hoofing it down PGA Blvd.  All that wind that had been keeping me in jackets and sweatshirts at the boat was now blocked from all the buildings and it got warm out very quickly.  We were looking forward to swiftly delivering the package and finding an air conditioned McDonald’s.  Following Google Maps on Matt’s phone, which was not being as much help as we thought it would.  According to the address we were given we had already passed the building, but neither of us had any recollection of seeing the post office, even tucked away somewhere.  Getting very hot and hungry now, I suggested we run to the food court of the mall we had just passed.  That way I could get my wifi and my work done, and then we’d be recharged while hunting down the post office which seemed to be covered in Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak.  Walking through the parking lot there were BMW’s, and Mercedes Benz’s as far as the eye could see.  Walking in through Macy’s I was greeted with the initial pang of wanting to snatch up all the cute dresses, shoes, and purses in front of me, but as soon as we left the store the feeling left with it.

Coming out of that familiar mall territory we strolled into some very unfamiliar mall territory.  Instead of Hollister and Forever 21 there was Chanel and Burberry.  Louis Vitton and Gucci.  Not quite the kind of shopping mall we were used to.  Seeking out the food court we walked from one end of the mall to the other without finding it.  What we did spy though out of the corner of our eyes was an arrow pointing down a hallway to the Post Office.  There is no way we would have found it there from the street.  Getting the package sent out the backpack instantly became lighter and we checked another item off our to-do list.  Then finding that the food court was one floor up we ate our Sabarro’s while hooking up to the internet and getting as much done as possible since we knew we wouldn’t have access again for days.  I had scheduled a few posts to go up while we were traveling, and then downloaded images from passage weather, and also information from Noonsite on every possible port of entry we could make along the way in case plans changed at the last minute.  Getting information on West End, Berry Islands, Nassau, and Georgetown, I even downloaded Jamaica in case for any reason we decided to Q flag it through the Bahamas and skip them all together.  Once I was satisfied that I had done all I could do to prep ourselves to be without internet, we left the mall and headed back out on the street.  Not after noticing that at this mall, even the backs of stop signs were painted with pretty little leaf patterns.  It was obvious we were now in Palm Beach, mingling with the rich and famous.

Completing the rest of our errands, we picked up a few more things at West Marine, and then went to Publix to stuff our backpacks as full of pop as we could get them, along with a few other staples.  Walking back to the boat with extra bags dangling from our arms, we made our way back to the dinghy and then to Serendipity.  One other thing I had been looking forward to doing that night was to meet up with another couple of cruisers that we had been corresponding with for the past few months on the internet.  Katie and Ben of s/v Buckeye had just gotten back from cruising the Bahamas for the winter.  I was hoping that we’d actually be able to meet them in the Bahamas, but as luck would have it, we happened to be in their home port of Lake Worth right when they were getting back.  Chilling a few beer all day and preparing a bottle of wine, I was already to go out and mingle.

Sending them our location on Facebook, they told us they’d be in that evening.  After we had gotten back from our errands and were busy preparing dinner I got another message that they had just gotten in, but they couldn’t spot us anywhere.  At this point I climbed outside to hunt them down with our binoculars, but couldn’t seem to find them either.  After lots of conversation back and forth, we eventually found out that they were moored just south of the inlet, a good two miles from where we were sitting.  With it being so late in the evening, a dinghy ride over was out of the question, plus the issue of having to go to bed early enough to rise and get ready before the sun the next morning.  It was sad that we couldn’t meet up, especially since I was ready to pick their brains about Gulf Crossings and everything Bahamas.  Who knows though, maybe we’ll catch them again in a few seasons.  With nothing else to do for the night, we dazed out in front of the t.v. until it was time to go to bed.  I don’t know if it’s because we’ve been waiting so long and had already been delayed once more, but any nerves I had about making the crossing were now gone.  Wind and waves are forecast to be low, and I am ready for us to check into a new country!

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*Sorry for all the recent cat photos, there really has been nothing better to photograph.

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The Window is Closed

Monday March 11, 2013

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The anchorage we chose in Lake Worth is at the northern most end of the lake, about two miles north of the inlet.  Although we’d need to travel a little ways to get out when we’re ready, the spot we chose is within walking distance of a Publix and a West Marine, so it was an easy choice for us as where to stay.  The weather window we were looking at is for Tuesday, tomorrow, and we thought we’d just stop over for a day, finish our last little errands, like getting the proper wire to make our anemometer read again since something happened during repairs to the keel and we haven’t been able to tell wind speed at all since we’ve been on our way again.  Then stock up on pop at Publix and we’d be all set.  Eventually finding our way to the dinghy landing, which was hidden up a creek behind some apartment buildings, we pulled up to see a man working on a shabby and run down wooden dinghy.

  We exchanged pleasantries and asked if he needed help with anything, which he declined.  He only mentioned that the dinghy he had now was purchased off eBay for a mere $100 because his much nicer inflatable dinghy had been stolen a few days earlier.  Although he had been locking the dinghy each time he went to shore, since he had been in the area for awhile and was on a bit of a schedule of when he went to shore and then back to his boat, he thinks that he was cased out by some local fisherman that knew when he’d be away from his dinghy and for how long, giving them the opportunity to go in and cut the cable from where it was locked and take it away by water.  It was very sad and unfortunate, and our hearts went out to him.  We did find out that luckily he lived in town so he wasn’t stranded from his boat/home, which is what happens to many people if their dinghy is stolen while out cruising.

Talking to him for a few minutes more, we told him about our trip down the ICW from St. Augustine, and how we were looking to make our crossing as soon as possible because our accident put us way behind schedule.  While telling him a little bit more about ourselves he stopped us and goes, “Wait…I know you two!!”.  Thinking it might be like another case of how Tango heard about us through forums or other cruisers I just smiled and nodded until he continued.  “I met you just after your accident, in the laundry room of the municipal marina.”  Sure enough, the man standing in front of us was a guy we had met earlier.  Kim happened to be in St. Augustine right when we crashed and got to hear our sob story while we were doing laundry while still moored out, before going to the marine center and finding out all the damage.  He asked how things went, and said he was glad that we were back on our way again.  What a small world.  I’m still not sure who walked away from that conversation feeling worse for the other though.  Us for him and the theft of his dinghy, or him for us and the accident of our boat.

Out on the streets we found out that everything we needed was within a mile walking distance, except the McDonald’s offering wifi, which was about a two mile walk down the main road.  While sitting there and eating lunch, we pulled up passage weather to see what lay ahead of us.  Our plan now was to The Window Is Closed          Monday March 11, 2013

The anchorage we chose in Lake Worth is at the northern most end of the lake, about two miles north of the inlet.  Although we’d need to travel a little ways to get out when we’re ready, the spot we chose is within walking distance of a Publix and a West Marine, so it was an easy choice for us as where to stay.  The weather window we were looking at is for Tuesday, tomorrow, and we thought we’d just stop over for a day, finish our last little errands, like getting the proper wire to make our anemometer read again since something happened during repairs to the keel and we haven’t been able to tell wind speed at all since we’ve been on our way again.  Then stock up on pop at Publix and we’d be all set.  Eventually finding our way to the dinghy landing, which was hidden up a creek behind some apartment buildings, we pulled up to see a man working on a shabby and run down wooden dinghy.

  We exchanged pleasantries and asked if he needed help with anything, which he declined.  He only mentioned that the dinghy he had now was purchased off eBay for a mere $100 because his much nicer inflatable dinghy had been stolen a few days earlier.  Although he had been locking the dinghy each time he went to shore, since he had been in the area for awhile and was on a bit of a schedule of when he went to shore and then back to his boat, he thinks that he was cased out by some local fisherman that knew when he’d be away from his dinghy and for how long, giving them the opportunity to go in and cut the cable from where it was locked and take it away by water.  It was very sad and unfortunate, and our hearts went out to him.  We did find out that luckily he lived in town so he wasn’t stranded from his boat/home, which is what happens to many people if their dinghy is stolen while out cruising.

Talking to him for a few minutes more, we told him about our trip down the ICW from St. Augustine, and how we were looking to make our crossing as soon as possible because our accident put us way behind schedule.  While telling him a little bit more about ourselves he stopped us and goes, “Wait…I know you two!!”.  Thinking it might be like another case of how Tango heard about us through forums or other cruisers I just smiled and nodded until he continued.  “I met you just after your accident, in the laundry room of the municipal marina.”  Sure enough, the man standing in front of us was a guy we had met earlier.  Kim happened to be in St. Augustine right when we crashed and got to hear our sob story while we were doing laundry while still moored out, before going to the marine center and finding out all the damage.  He asked how things went, and said he was glad that we were back on our way again.  What a small world.  I’m still not sure who walked away from that conversation feeling worse for the other though.  Us for him and the theft of his dinghy, or him for us and the accident of our boat.

Out on the streets we found out that everything we needed was within a mile walking distance, except the McDonald’s offering wifi, which was about a two mile walk down the main road.  While sitting there and eating lunch, we pulled up passage weather to see what lay ahead of us.  Our plan now was to go straight from Lake Worth to Nassau, about 200 nautical miles.  Originally thinking it would only be a day and a half trip, I had made the assumption that we’d be leaving just after midnight and making landfall in mid-day, since on most of our recent passages outside we had been covering about 125 miles a day.  What I wasn’t thinking about was fighting the current of the Gulf Stream, so Matt suggested we leave first thing in the morning and giving ourselves 48 hours for the trip, which sounded fine to me.  Having to navigate the channel and inlet in the middle of the night was not my idea of fun since we’d just gotten back on the water, and now knowing that we’d do it in the light helped to ease a bit of the anxiety that was eating me up.  So sitting at a back booth with a fillet of fish in hand, I went to check the forecast for the next 2-3 days.  What I found did not look very good.  Tuesday, which originally had been showing winds of 5-10 knots had now jumped up to 20, and they only grew from there.  Tuesday night was showing 25 and Wednesday was climbing to 30.  A northerly front looked to be moving in, so Thursday and Friday were showing close to the same high winds but with no option to cross the stream.  It didn’t look like we were going to have any calm days for awhile.

This left us with a big discussion.  The winds were constantly coming from the south, which is good for crossing the stream, and would send us flying on a beam reach.  Was I nervous about 20-30 knot winds?  Yes.  But we had been in them before, and much worse. We were still contemplating it, but while scrolling through the hours and days we found out that after we crossed the stream the wind would shift to be right on our nose.  Which meant that we’d have to motor into it, and with wind that high you’re not going to be getting far, or constantly tack back and forth adding hours and hours to your journey.  None of this sounded appealing to either of us, and as eager as we were to get across and finally get to the Bahamas, we had to put a hold on it.  We were both disappointed, but there does look to be another window coming up Saturday, so at least we’d only be 4 more days behind schedule.

Foregoing our Publix run for the day since, hey, we’re going to have plenty of time this week now anyway, we went back to the boat for the evening.  Depressed and eager to meet up with our friends who would all be in Georgetown, Exumas, in the next few days, I was trying to figure out any solution. I kept thinking to myself, ‘What if we don’t go all the way to Nassau?  What if we just focus on getting ourselves across the stream?’.  Suggesting to Matt that we still make the crossing with Tuesday’s weather window, we only go the 60 miles to West End, Grand Bahama Island, and wait out the front there.  At least that way we’d be across the Gulf Stream and wouldn’t have to worry about the north winds in the forecast because they’d actually be to our advantage then.  He considered it, but after finding out that there were no spots to anchor in West End or Freeport that would give us protection from the southerly winds that we’d be getting for a few days, we’d have to hole up in a marina.  And with our draining pocketbook after repairs, we didn’t want to be spending $70-$100/night for up to four nights while we waited out the front.  I begged him that if I could find a marina for $1/ft or under, that he would consider making the crossing.  Probably sure I’d come up empty handed, he agreed.

Flipping through all the pages of my Waterway Guide and Googling marinas in the area, I was also sure I’d come up empty handed.  But just as I was about to lose hope, I found one marina in Freeport that was $1/ft, and actually gave discounts to Waterway Guide members.  Bouncing out of my seat to show Matt, he looked a little shocked, but he had given me his word and we were both pretty sure that we could part with an extra $150 just to get ourselves over there.  Making the crossing though still meant that we’d want to arrive in daylight, and since we assumed we could do the 60 miles in 12-14 hours, that meant leaving that night!  Even thought I was still a little skeptical of the winds, I figured 12 hours in them wouldn’t be as sufferable as 48.  The next big question for me, which I hadn’t considered yet was wave height.  If they were to be 1 meter or under I could probably handle it fine, but anything larger than that and I was going to get nervous with it being our first time outside again, plus the fact that I was pretty sure I’d get seasick.  Scrolling down on Passage Weather once again I checked the wave height to find out they were forecast to be in the 3-4 meter range.  10-14 feet?  Coupled with 20-30 knot winds?  All that anxiety hit me once again with force.  I wanted to make the crossing so badly, but I wasn’t feeling comfortable about it any more.  The feeling that was saying ‘don’t go’ was in the pit of my stomach once more, and I remembered what happened the last time I didn’t listen.  As far as I was concerned, the window was now closed.  It looks like Saturday is our new window, and by then I’m sure I’ll be ready to make it come hell or high water. straight from Lake Worth to Nassau, about 200 nautical miles.  Originally thinking it would only be a day and a half trip, I had made the assumption that we’d be leaving just after midnight and making landfall in mid-day, since on most of our recent passages outside we had been covering about 125 miles a day.  What I wasn’t thinking about was fighting the current of the Gulf Stream, so Matt suggested we leave first thing in the morning and giving ourselves 48 hours for the trip, which sounded fine to me.  Having to navigate the channel and inlet in the middle of the night was not my idea of fun since we’d just gotten back on the water, and now knowing that we’d do it in the light helped to ease a bit of the anxiety that was eating me up.  So sitting at a back booth with a fillet of fish in hand, I went to check the forecast for the next 2-3 days.  What I found did not look very good.  Tuesday, which originally had been showing winds of 5-10 knots had now jumped up to 20, and they only grew from there.  Tuesday night was showing 25 and Wednesday was climbing to 30.  A northerly front looked to be moving in, so Thursday and Friday were showing close to the same high winds but with no option to cross the stream.  It didn’t look like we were going to have any calm days for awhile.

This left us with a big discussion.  The winds were constantly coming from the south, which is good for crossing the stream, and would send us flying on a beam reach.  Was I nervous about 20-30 knot winds?  Yes.  But we had been in them before, and much worse. We were still contemplating it, but while scrolling through the hours and days we found out that after we crossed the stream the wind would shift to be right on our nose.  Which meant that we’d have to motor into it, and with wind that high you’re not going to be getting far, or constantly tack back and forth adding hours and hours to your journey.  None of this sounded appealing to either of us, and as eager as we were to get across and finally get to the Bahamas, we had to put a hold on it.  We were both disappointed, but there does look to be another window coming up Saturday, so at least we’d only be 4 more days behind schedule.

Foregoing our Publix run for the day since, hey, we’re going to have plenty of time this week now anyway, we went back to the boat for the evening.  Depressed and eager to meet up with our friends who would all be in Georgetown, Exumas, in the next few days, I was trying to figure out any solution. I kept thinking to myself, ‘What if we don’t go all the way to Nassau?  What if we just focus on getting ourselves across the stream?’.  Suggesting to Matt that we still make the crossing with Tuesday’s weather window, we only go the 60 miles to West End, Grand Bahama Island, and wait out the front there.  At least that way we’d be across the Gulf Stream and wouldn’t have to worry about the north winds in the forecast because they’d actually be to our advantage then.  He considered it, but after finding out that there were no spots to anchor in West End or Freeport that would give us protection from the southerly winds that we’d be getting for a few days, we’d have to hole up in a marina.  And with our draining pocketbook after repairs, we didn’t want to be spending $70-$100/night for up to four nights while we waited out the front.  I begged him that if I could find a marina for $1/ft or under, that he would consider making the crossing.  Probably sure I’d come up empty handed, he agreed.

Flipping through all the pages of my Waterway Guide and Googling marinas in the area, I was also sure I’d come up empty handed.  But just as I was about to lose hope, I found one marina in Freeport that was $1/ft, and actually gave discounts to Waterway Guide members.  Bouncing out of my seat to show Matt, he looked a little shocked, but he had given me his word and we were both pretty sure that we could part with an extra $150 just to get ourselves over there.  Making the crossing though still meant that we’d want to arrive in daylight, and since we assumed we could do the 60 miles in 12-14 hours, that meant leaving that night!  Even thought I was still a little skeptical of the winds, I figured 12 hours in them wouldn’t be as sufferable as 48.  The next big question for me, which I hadn’t considered yet was wave height.  If they were to be 1 meter or under I could probably handle it fine, but anything larger than that and I was going to get nervous with it being our first time outside again, plus the fact that I was pretty sure I’d get seasick.  Scrolling down on Passage Weather once again I checked the wave height to find out they were forecast to be in the 3-4 meter range.  10-14 feet?  Coupled with 20-30 knot winds?  All that anxiety hit me once again with force.  I wanted to make the crossing so badly, but I wasn’t feeling comfortable about it any more.  The feeling that was saying ‘don’t go’ was in the pit of my stomach once more, and I remembered what happened the last time I didn’t listen.  As far as I was concerned, the window was now closed.  It looks like Saturday is our new window, and by then I’m sure I’ll be ready to make it come hell or high water.

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