Lotta Catching Up to Do

My credentials as a blogger should be revoked as too much time has elapsed since the last posting, and too many miles have passed beneath our keel during this time – 608 nautical miles to be exact. My apologies to all readers!

November 10 we depart Charleston in the first weather window we have seen in almost two weeks.  We are accompanied by a parade of boats as we exit the harbor and turn south in the Atlantic.  It becomes readily apparent that the fleet of boats is heading into Georgia while we are determined to cover a lot of ground by heading all the way to Cape Canaveral. Come nightfall we are almost 60 miles off shore and all by ourselves.  The seas are placid, and we are motorsailing through the night and, in fact, for the entire 48 hour duration of the passage.  We time our arrival at Canaveral for early morning and make an 8:30 lock opening. After passing the large harbor for the many cruise ships that call Canaveral home, we need to negotiate a lock between the tidal ocean waters and the non-tidal Banana River.  It is a new type of lock for us as once we are in, the gates partially open on the inland side, allowing the water to pour in until we are at the level of the river.  We cross the Banana River and head, via a manmade canal, over to the Indian River and the ICW.  Several hours later, we arrive at Eau Gallie and turn north into the very southern point of the Banana River where it merges into the Indian River. Here, at what is known as Dragon Point, we have excellent protection from the predicted 40 knot winds that will accompany an approaching cold front. It is a pleasant anchorage, as dolphins frequently play near our boat, other cruisers we know are anchored nearby, and we have great access to the village of Indian Point and all its amenities. Big box stores and groceries are accessible by bicycle, and we enjoy riding along the many parks that front the ocean.  One day, as we are riding downwind along the ocean on a bike path, the following gusts are so strong we have to apply the brakes to avoid going out of control.  Needless to say, pedaling back upwind was no easy matter.

The beach near Melbourne on the day of the big blow - no one is out sunbathing!

We are staying in the Eau Gallie/Melbourne area to attend the SSCA Melbourne Gam, a three day event of seminars, social events, and nautical flea markets. As always, it is an enjoyable time, and we meet up with old friends and make new friends.  The cruising community continues to expand for us.

At the conclusion of the Gam, a half day motor on the ICW brings us to Vero Beach (also known as Velcro Beach for obvious reasons), one of our favorite stops.  We plan to stay through Thanksgiving, but as events would have it, we stay much longer.  Vero is a great place for cruisers to stop.  The mooring field is well protected, the marina offers the amenities we want at a reasonable price, and we have access via a free bus to all the shopping anyone could desire in the Vero area. 

 

View of the north anchorage at Vero after Thanksgiving when many of the boats had left

 Thanksgiving is a time when many cruisers congregate here as the community puts on a nice Thanksgiving for us vagabonds. The CLODS (cruisers living on dirt – in other words, ex-cruisers) provide the turkeys and hams, and the rest of us bring the side dishes.  Held at a nearby luxury park pavilion, we pack in over 150 people for the feast, music, and door prizes donated by local merchants.  Vero is a sociable place, perhaps more so as during the busy season boats are required to raft together on the moorings.  We initially raft with Amici, trawler friends from Connecticut, and, upon their departure, Interlude, who we met in the Bahamas, pulls in for the remainder of our stay.  We definitely enjoy the company. There a numerous happy hours both at the marina and on boats. 

Weekly Happy Hour/Jam session at the marina - it is surprisingly good music.

One night we meet up with two couples who are CLODS, join them for dinner at a locals’ favorite restaurant on the ocean, and then return to one house for an evening of Sequence, a popular game among cruisers.   Another night we take lawn chairs and head to a park for a street fair and music from a performing arts high school in Miami.  And yet another night, we accompany friends to the local theater, which is in walking distance, for a comedy club. Each Sunday we take dinghies to a park where we cross over to the ocean side and enjoy a leisurely breakfast with endless coffee and chat. 

One Sunday's breakfast bunch - the crews of Interlude, Sirius, and Exuberant

Walking along the beach to work off that big breakfast

Vero is still relatively close to the space center and one evening, as we settle down to a sunset glass of wine, we see a bright ball approaching from the northeast.  We determine it is not one of the many planes that pass overhead, and after a bit, we make out that it is a rocket launch.  We watch in amazement as the rocket discards several stages and finally approaches that point in the atmosphere where a cone of vapor(?) forms a cone in front of it. It is the first rocket launch I have ever seen close up, and it is spectacular. The marina sponsors a Christmas Lighted Boat Parade, and we float out in the river in the dinghy to enjoy the small but colorful parade. 

Part of the boat Parade - not the best picture but you get the idea

Finally, we bike all through the barrier island neighborhoods with their moss draped live oaks, multiple varieties of palms, and stately homes with colorful tropical landscaping. Oceanside Vero is definitely upscale. On the downside, during the 24 days we stay at Vero, we get over 12 inches of rain.  The decks are clean of salt, but the mosquitoes and no-see-ums are out in force.

But Vero isn’t all fun and games.  As soon as we arrive, we make an appointment to have a semi-annual teeth cleaning and checkup.  Burt has had a few teeth chip over the last months, and we discover the situation is a bit more serious than we thought.  He is scheduled to get three crowns, something we had hoped to postpone until we were in Ohio in the spring. Chalk off two weeks of trips to and from the dentist office.  All seems to go well, and we are thankful that in an emergency situation we were able to find a capable dentist. 

While we are in Vero, Burt is going to install new wind instruments.  Our old ones were original with the boat and not always reliable, and this task will replace the last of our old electronics. Replacing the wind instruments requires ascending the mast.  It is not too difficult as we have an electric winch to do the hoisting, but unless you are really fond of heights, it is not a favorite pastime.  I man the winch, and Burt goes up in a boson’s chair.  We successfully feed through the new wiring and bolt on the new instruments with a succession of necessary tools hoisted in a bucket on a separate halyard.  All is going smoothly until Burt notices that the wire in our forestay is untwisting.  This is definitely NOT GOOD, and he takes many pictures to send off to Mack Sails who redid our rigging a year ago in nearby Stuart, FL. Now, Burt is getting very experienced with ascending masts, as he makes multiple trips up to assess the situation and collect information, along with one trip up Interlude’s mast to install a new bulb in their anchor light.  

Picture of the unraveling forestay from the top of the mast.

 The only plus side is that you get some interesting pictures from 60 feet up.   

View of Exuberant and Interlude from 60 feet up.

Mack Sails decides that the forestay needs to be replaced and the cause of the failure diagnosed.  They schedule a visit on a Monday, and we reserve the marina courtesy dock for that day.  But, when Monday dawns, they are still finishing up another project, and don’t arrive at our boat until 4:30 pm (remember the sun sets at 5:30). It will definitely take more than an hour, and we scurry to gather up all the flashlights and other light sources available.  The rigger goes up the mast and disconnects the forestay and furler, and it is lowered to the dock. Four of us pitch in to remove the old forestay from the furler foil, fabricate a new forestay, and reassemble it into the foil.  It is now dark and flashlights and headlights provide our light.  We determine that the foil had slid down the stay, allowing it to catch individual wires and untwist them.  The solution is to fabricate a means of preventing this slippage. Between two riggers and one engineer, this is accomplished, and the entire unit is reattached to the mast, all in the dark of night.  By 8:30 pm we are whole again, but just a bit unnerved as we could have easily lost the mast if this had gone undetected.  Mack Sails graciously charged us nothing for the replacement, but we will now be checking our rigging on a more regular basis.

The teeth are good, the rigging has been repaired, and the boat is well stocked, so we are off to the Miami area on an overnight motorsail just off the coast.  It is a parade of shore lights along south Florida coast as we stay less than one half mile offshore to avoid the adverse Gulf Stream currents. The sunrise is spectacular with towering cumulous clouds forming over the Gulf Stream. 

Sunrise with clouds over the Gulf Stream

We pass Miami just after sunrise and head a bit further south to tuck in behind Key Biscayne. We anchor off No Name Harbor and enjoy the views across the Bay and towards Miami.  There are many other boats anchored near us awaiting a weather window to head over to the Bahamas. During the day, we take our bikes into the state park to bicycle its paths and access the remainder of Key Biscayne.  One day is spent relaxing on the Atlantic side beach and enjoying a leisurely lunch at the park’s Cuban restaurant.   

Restored lighthouse at Cape Florida beach

It is no surprise that there is a Cuban restaurant in the park (in fact, there are two) as we rarely hear English spoken in this part of Florida. Another evening, the Key Biscayne Yacht Club sponsors Christmas Boat Parade through our anchorage, this one a bit more elaborate than the one at Vero. While we are at anchor, we determine that our VHF radio is no longer receiving transmissions – that would explain why it seems so quiet.  We don’t like the constant chatter on the radio, but it certainly is an important safety feature. We move into the protection of No Name Harbor, and Burt once again ascends the mast to check the connections.  The connections are cleaned, dielectric grease is applied, and resistance within the wiring is tested, but we see no improvement. The unit will have to be removed and sent in to the manufacturer once we arrive in Marathon.  Meanwhile, a handheld VHF will have to suffice. As one friend says, if nothing is broken at any given time on a boat, you just haven’t looked hard enough.

More scenes from the top of the mast - parkland of Key Biscayne in the foreground with Miami in the distance

The entrance to No Name Harbor with Biscayne Bay in the distance

So, we are off to Marathon, a two day cruise down the delightful Hawk Channel.  The first day we make excellent progress motorsailing in a strong wind from the stern.  Seventy miles later, we drop anchor on the south side of Long Key with enough protection from the strong winds to have a peaceful night.  The next day we cover the remaining twenty miles, reaching in flat water under sail alone.  With its smooth aqua colored water, Hawk Channel is one of the best sailing venues we see in our cruising year.   Too soon we arrive in Marathon’s Boot Key Harbor. Like Vero, we know many boats here, and the coming month will be filled with more boat projects, many social gatherings, and opportunities to bike along the old Seven Mile Bridge and dinghy to the ocean side beach.  Life is good, life is warm, and we have a bit of survivors’ guilt as we hear about the succession of winter storms harassing the northern states.  Every morning while eating breakfast in the cockpit, we hear on the Cruiseheimer’s Net reports of the low temperatures further north. We are thankful that we have broken the grip of winter weather that followed us so far south. 

Dawn with a full moon over Boot Key Harbor

And thus, Burt joins me in extending to all our readers wishes for a very Merry Christmas, a joyous holiday season, and all the best for the coming year.