Knowing When to Stop

 

 

A very pretty view at the marina. I was there long enough to take a couple of pictures.

A few days ago, after our guests departed from Marathon Marina very early in the morning, Hans and I quickly got to work as we needed to leave by 11 AM. Staying at a marina is similar to staying at a hotel (except of course we bring our home with us) and you have a check out time.

I gathered up our laundry and since I didn't know when we might have this opportunity again, I ended up with a huge load. I think the only thing I didn't stuff into the bag was Wilbur who thankfully keeps himself pretty clean. And even though I thought I was quite the early bird (my idea of early is before noon) I was dismayed to find only one washing machine available and I had three loads. While I got the first load going I ended up talking with a lady (note: I will strike up a conversation with anybody, anytime. I think I was vaccinated with a phonograph needle) who was just as glad to talk/vent (she's new to sailing) to me. I spent more time talking than I should have but at least another two machines opened up. After cramming them full I ran back to the boat, dug the shop vac out of a lazarette and swept up the inside of the boat. I also scrubbed the filth from the bow where the anchor chain makes a mess, mopped the cockpit again (a waste of time as it gets dirty within seconds), and washed some dishes. Back to the laundromat I went where I threw most everything into driers and then went in search of ice. After filling two coolers with the ice, beer, and club soda it was back to the laundromat again. By now I was hot and sweaty but I got everything folded and when I got back to the boat it was time to shove off. Hans had topped off the water tanks, checked the engines, and took a bath house shower (I never did get one). We headed to the fuel dock and then we were on our way.

Pippa, a pit mix at the marina who let Wilbur know she didn't think he was cute. Wilbur reciprocated by telling her her mother wears army boots.

Kids!

Where to go? We had several options but it became obvious that the closest ones weren't going to work out for us. We already knew the mooring field had a waiting list and the anchorage right beside it was packed full and actually looked like a tent city where the homeless hang out together. A bit further on we thought we could anchor in Sister Creek but once there we noted that every single boat was anchored bahamian style (bow anchored out in the river with a stern line tied up in the mangroves). We've never implemented this style of anchoring and I wasn't about to start now. Of course Hans thought it might be interesting and right about then I started feeling the effects of way too many late nights and early mornings. A small 'discussion' took place (perhaps a mini-meltdown on my part) and we moved on. Out in the open water we found wind and very rolly conditions which did nothing for all the crap lying about in the cockpit: dock lines hadn't been stowed, cushions were all over the place along with a bag of my wet laundry that should have been hung to dry in the head, and a dog that feels the need to be comforted when we first get underway (every single time). There was one more place to try to drop the hook and that was in the lee of Boot Key Island. But since we were underway Hans suggested we continue to Bahia Honda Key and would I mind sailing in the rolly seas for a few miles. Another 'discussion' (and a not so 'mini' meltdown) took place and we hurriedly anchored near Boot Key. I was tired and snappy and trying to put things in order when we realized we were dragging.

Again.

Honestly, we've never dragged anchor as many times as we have during this cruise.

We were finally set when I realized we were missing a lot of laundry including Hans' Knotty Cat shirt (a present from me and not cheap), my quick-dry towel (which actually takes longer to dry than regular ones), and my favorite sweat shirt (15 years old from when my son played high school hockey). I swore I'd checked the laundry area before I left and it was obvious we'd allowed ourselves to be rushed and it was now biting us in the butt. Trying to rush on a boat is usually a recipe for disaster (big or small). Hans did agree that it made sense to anchor quickly and take a day off and we have to remember we're no longer on a strict schedule. When you're overly tired you really do make stupid mistakes.

The next morning we felt much better and after contacting the marina we motored to the fuel dock where we didn't even have to tie up. They just heaved our bag of laundry into the Knotty Cat as we slid past and we were off once again.

This time the seas were less rolly and we actually sailed to our next anchorage.

One last picture of Marathon Marina. Some day I may get to enjoy it.

 

Posted with Blogsy

A Bunch of Middle Age Cruisers Celebrate the New Year

Rich with his drum machine, and Hans with his new keyboard. Some serious music is about to take place!

This little guy was left out of most of the festivities and he ended up sulking below in our berth.

 

When we ended up at anchor on New Year's Eve around 2 PM we realized there was no way we'd stay awake to ring in the new year. But just after the sun went down we were surprised to get a call from another live-aboard couple in our marina who had finished up their work day. They were on their way out into the bay and did we want to meet up with them?

They ended up rafting next to us and I have to tell you this was a first for the Knotty Cat!! I'm just not a rafting up-let's party till all hours-act like a bunch of idiots kind of person. Especially on what I've always referred to as Amateur Night.

Really, I'm not.

Yet we had a great time. We laughed about anything and everything, witnessed a beautiful full moon rise over the bay, and by eleven o'clock we were back on our own boat with a pouting pitty. We hooked up our TV and antennae, and while Wilbur refused to budge from under his blanket, Hans and I actually witnessed the ball drop at midnight.

Getting up in the morning wasn't so easy but by 11 or so we were finally moving around and enjoying breakfast and mimosas.

Danee patiently waits on her boat while we try to wake up.

On New Year's Day, Hans got the chance to use his new keyboard. Rich and Danee's good friend's motored out and before we knew it, all three of our boats were rafted together and don't think the Knotty Cat wasn't hugely proud of herself. All three boats hanging on her anchor!!! What a girl!

 

So we ended up spending New Year's Day sitting at anchor with good friends and music. The wind also kicked up and many boats with smiling, happy occupants sailed past shouting out greetings to us (at least they didn't tell us to shut up).

Luckily, we got back into our slip with no mishaps since Captain Hans was at the helm and not me.

 

And now we're back to reality and of course our vehicle has decided that the Knotty Cat gets way too much attention. Therefore it decided to light up the dashboard with many alarms and then screamed and beeped at me and Wilbur the whole way to the Doggy Park. I then drove a very scary 4 miles enduring the mushiest brakes in the world to our local mechanic.

The good news is that Wilbur thoroughly enjoyed the ride back to our marina in the courtesy van where he gave our driver many big pitty kisses the whole way.

Here's to hoping this isn't a portent of things to come.

 

A Fun Family Weekend

Hans' baby brother came all the way down from Canada this past weekend to celebrate his 45th birthday with us.  

We were thankful for two things; the first being that I was able to get our boat out of the slip without smacking into our new neighbor (a very impressive Beneteau), and that we were able to sail in the Gulf all day long before anchoring for the night.  

The only problem that perhaps slightly overshadowed our wonderful weekend was my horribly-gone-wrong haircut. In all my years on this earth I've never been as stunned as I was this past week with what I'm calling the hair cut from hell (dirty dishwater blond, dutch boy bowl cut might give you an idea) which explains why I'm not in any of our pictures and why I'm sure Hans is thanking any and all  Gods that I got it re-cut today.  

A man should only have to put up with so many tears.

PS, I'm still not completely happy but thank God my hair grows fast. 

Holy Crap!!! We actually put up the main!!!

Wilbur loves the birthday boy, Uncle #1

Wilbur suffers so in these cold Florida temps. Brrrrrrr

Wilbur's Uncle #2 enjoys our new anchorage

The Knotty Cat after a fun weekend.  Look at all the dishes (which I actually enjoy washing)!

Baby Brother, Hans, and Wilbur's best side.
(Check out my holiday dock box)

We ended up anchoring in the same place we did on day one of our Turkey Tour.  Something was noticeably different this time though and that was the giant influx of Angry Birds. As evening approached and we sat in the cockpit we couldn't help but notice thick clouds of noisy black birds (crows?),  ala  Alfred Hitchcock, noisily flying overhead.
I remember being awakened in the early morning hours the next day by the noise of these birds and I swear I thought they were sitting right outside our hatch (which I eventually found out they were). "CAW CAW CAW!"  uh oh uh oh uh oh"  "HA HA HA!"  "warble warble warble", went their conversation just over my head.
Wilbur's Uncle #2  happened to be up early and was sitting in the cockpit at that time and he told us we had at least 50 birds perched on our mast, boom, forestay, backstays, and jib.

I'm just thankful that they didn't use us as a port-a-potty and we only had a few poopy bird messes to clean up.

Wilbur had a wonderful time too, but after our guests left it would appear he slid into a slight depression.
Thus the conversation overheard in our berth around 3 AM last night:

Hans:  What the hell? Why are our sheets wet? Did someone piss the bed?
Me: Huh?
Hans: Someone pissed the bed!
Me: Well, it wasn't me!
Hans: It wasn't me either!
Wilbur: Snoooooooooooooooore.

Epilogue:

If Wilbur starts ripping the wings off flies and starting fires, I fear we may have a future serial killer on our hands.

Anchoring in the Bahamas.

Before we set out on our long, long journey to the Bahamas I did a lot of research. Some times I found out too much, and some times not enough. But the whole anchoring thing is what I think weighed on my mind the most.

Here is the gist of what I discovered.

WHILE IN THE BAHAMAS YOU MUST USE TWO ANCHORS.

YOU MUST ALWAYS ANCHOR BAHAMIAN STYLE.

THE CURRENTS AND WIND ARE SO STRONG YOU WILL DRAG AT ANCHOR. GUARANTEED.

Needless to say, I was worried as we'd never deployed two anchors in our lives!

But I have to tell you now that we found the currents in the Intracoastal to be stronger than anything we've experienced in the Bahamas. And the 2 to 3 foot tides in the Bahamas are nothing compared to say the 9 foot-plus tides we suffered through in Georgia.

The first and only time I saw someone use a double anchor was in Florida. It was a wide open anchorage and after Hans and I were settled in (with one lowly little anchor) I got out my trusty binoculars and immediately had a panic attack when I realized that the only boat there had double anchored and we were obviously doing something wrong!

The captain and mate of this particular boat arrived back to their vessel, via dinghy, shortly thereafter, and I enjoyed a half hour or so watching him unravel a nightmare of twisted anchor lines that will most certainly happen when your boat swings in circles due to the current.

We sat (and swung full circle) on one anchor all night long as we'd done the whole way down the ICW and wondered if this whole unraveling of two anchors was something we could expect to endure ourselves once we reached the Bahamas.

Our first night in the Bahamas was spent in Bimimi and we ended up anchoring in Nixon's Harbor. We used only one anchor and then worried all night long that we'd drag. We didn't, and after that we continued to use one anchor, but any chance he could, Hans would dive down to see if it was secure. We were pretty surprised to find that some times our anchor couldn't dig into the hard bottom but the weight of it, combined with the chain, kept us in one spot all night long.

We held tight in the following waters during some pretty gusty days:

Yankee Carter (don't go there unless you wish to run aground in its very shallow entrance): 25+ knot winds and heavy current in over 20 feet of water in its basin.

Foxtown: 25 knot winds.

Treasure Cay: 20 knot winds gusting to 30 for two days. This was also a very crowded anchorage because everyone knew about the wind forecast. No one used two anchors and some people even had out 80 feet of chain.

Guana Harbor: 20+ knot winds (we were on a mooring).

Fisher Bay (where we did get to watch a boat drag**): 20+ knot winds.

Nixon's Harbor (Bimini): 25 knot winds and strong current.

Little Harbor: 25 knot winds.

We still haven't used two anchors and I'm sure it won't always be that way but for those of you wishing to visit the Abaco's I think you'll find that one anchor is all that's usually needed.

**We were in Fisher Bay on day two of our windy stay when a Sunsail Charter Boat whipped into the anchorage, and I don't think their anchor had even touched bottom before the couple aboard had jumped into their dinghy and headed for shore. This meant they missed watching their boat lift its anchor, brazenly jitter-bug on over to a boat anchored close by and ask it for a dance. It was a couple on another boat, who witnessed this bizarre courting ritual, that immediately radioed for help. Tony from Dive Guana, was on the spot immediately, and he picked up the hailing couple and zipped on over to the Dancing Queen. Luckily the keys were still in the ignition and the captain of the unwary dance partner came up from where he'd been down below, wisely started his engine, and looked on as the rescue crew was able to lift Dancing Queen's anchor and safely move her on to a mooring. After Tony dropped the helping couple off at their boat he sped past us and while laughing, shouted out, "When those people come back be sure to tell them they can't keep my anchor!"

It rained and blew like crazy the rest of the day and you'd think that charter couple might have wondered why no one else was leaving their boat. You'd also think that somewhere on shore they would have heard about their boat's wild gyrations on any one of the VHF radios that all the island bars utilize. But when we went to bed they still hadn't returned and during the night I never heard a call on the radio from them asking if anyone might know where their missing boat may have gotten to. In the morning I spotted their red dinghy bobbing unconcernedly in the water behind their boat, and they left very soon afterward without so much as a thank you very much.

I guess all of us in that anchorage should just be thankful that our hard working, well traveled, and sensible boats were too worn out from the wind and rain to show any desire in joining the 'throw caution to the wind, week long chartered' Dancing Queen in her version of Dancing with the Stars.

More fish and a life saved from sin!

After having caught one fish on our own and then getting huge hunks of Mahi from The Dog (we just love The Dog and hope we run into him again! What a character!), Hans and I just couldn't get enough. And after Dog informed us that we'd never catch anything on our own on the banks of the Bahamas, I truly feared Hans was going to put me to work and make me walk the docks, and I'm just too old for that. So I'm very happy to relate that after leaving Grand Cay we managed to snag yet one more Holy Mackerel, and we had only traveled two miles.

Wow!

Our second fish, and check out the gloves!! Probably not necessary for such a small fish but I hate getting stuck by fish fins!

We then anchored at Double Breasted Cay but I hate to admit that we never left the boat. The promised sandy beaches were way over on the other side of the rocks that we ended up in, and since getting our dinghy and motor going is such an ordeal we decided to stay put (I'm very serious when I say that dinghy davits had better be in our future).

At Double Breasted and believe it or not this is maybe the second time I've relaxed in the sun.

From Double Breasted we set out for Yankee Carter Cay and I will ask all of you now to please never try to anchor there! Our Dodge Guide to the Abacos states that the entrance to this anchorage carries a depth of 4 feet at MLW (Mean Low Water, an oxymoron if I ever heard one!) and let me tell you that it certainly does not! More like two and a half feet because that's what we draw, and I watched in horror as we left twin trails of sand behind us as we fought our way in. We had to shut down our port engine when we realized no fresh water was shooting out behind us, and we were then stunned to find ourselves in what I can only describe as a Shanty Town on the Water. Tons of working boats, non working boats, and a sunken hulk littered the anchorage and we ended up tossing out the hook in 14 feet of water and far too close to the current, and prayed that we wouldn't drift into anyone during the night. Hans cleaned out the strainer on the port engine, got it back into working order, and we ended up enduring heavy winds and currents throughout the night. While we thankfully didn't drag due to the current, we found that we'd swung uncomfortably close to a working boat the next morning. We felt tremendous relief that the Bahamians, who were on that boat, merely waved a happy good morning to us and didn't hesitate to take off in a another boat thus leaving their mothership in mortal danger of being smacked by the Knotty Cat.

This boat is a lot closer than it appears. I could have just about jumped onto it.

I heard a number of conversations on the radio from people who had anchored the night before and realized that we actually had a better time of it. One couple slept in their cockpit because they were afraid someone would drift into them. Another man got so sick of getting beat up that he weighed anchor at midnight and set sail. Stupid old me slept through the night and I figured that every time the boat shuddered with the slamming waves, meant we were still anchored.

We left at high tide, and getting the anchor up turned into a nightmare that we hadn't even considered and I can't believe we didn't ram into anyone. Hans admits that, so far, this has been the most nerve wracking anchoring we've ever made. We didn't draw a breath of relief until we were way out of that harbor and we will never EVER go back there.

I should have known something would go wrong (my good luck streaks don't last very long) since on our way to (Damn) Yankee Carter, we caught a huge Gray Snapper. Honest to God! Because my trolling line had veered straight down and out of sight I said to Hans, "What the hell is wrong with my line? I think we've snagged bottom!!" But after a bit of tugging, I felt some resistance, and I knew that I hadn't snagged a rock and that I had something more than a Holy Mackerel on the hook! After winding the line around our winch a few times, a form started to take shape and I was actually shaking as I had no idea what it could be. Finally a fat pancake shape with a big eye appeared and we were able to pull it into the cockpit. A quick look at one of our charts proved it to be a Gray Snapper at 30 inches long, and since it felt like it weighed more than a gallon of milk, I'd put it at around eight pounds. Hans would love to think it was more like fifteen but I don't think so.

Mr. Snapper didn't like the rum we gave him and he hung onto dear life for far too long. Here he's still sporting our lure.

We don't happen to have any 'Snapper Helper' on board but he was still delicious!

If you look closely you can see Wilbur giving Mr. Snapper (who's reclining in the captains locker sans beer) the 'fish eye'!

We moved onto Foxtown with nary a bite but that's okay (I have two days worth of fish in our freezer), we had hot dogs and macaroni and cheese for dinner and we endured yet one more night of winds and current. I sincerely hope the day will soon arrive when receiving weather reports won't require thousands of dollars worth of equipment. As of this time most of our information is days old and even a few hours can make a difference.

Upon leaving Foxtown, since the winds were S SW at around 15-20 knots (instead of our old forecast of NE) we took advantage and sailed toward Green Turtle Cay. What a difference it makes to sail along with following seas! We felt sorry for people heading in the opposite direction as they hobby horsed up and down into the wind and waves.

We entered Green Turtle at around 6 PM on Friday night, once again at MLW, and saw depths of four and a half feet in the channel. I'll be glad when we can finally start coming and going with some higher tides.

Another pretty sunset in the Bahamas.

BTW, internet access here is very poor at this time so I will post when I can.