I'm Hearing Voices and I Don't Like It.

Surely someone with a working dinghy will give me a ride off this boat!

When Hans and I arrived back in Florida we already had seven doctors appointments scheduled. We are both believers in preventative medicine but since our insurance coverage is basically an HMO and good only in Florida and we'd been in PA for a few months we had no choice.

So, now, in addition to taxi-ing Wilbur ashore for his preventative therapy (i.e; just us avoiding poopy revenge attacks aboard the Knotty Cat in our absence), and when we aren't trying to figure out why the dinghy motor has become a huge stinker leaving us adrift in the mooring field, we sit in doctors' offices filling out paperwork. Unfortunately though, it seems like every appointment we keep just spawns itself into yet another one. Colonoscopy? An office visit first, then the procedure, then a follow-up. Cataracts? Office visit, possible PCP visit next (even though you were there for a physical last week), then hopefully surgery and of course another follow-up. Mammogram? Office visit first... ad nauseum. Our original seven appointments have morphed into thirteen so far and I expect that number will grow.

Oh, and after you finally figure out which lab your insurance covers for blood work just try to make an appointment. The other day I sat in our car on my phone for an entire hour while Hans was at one of his doctors appointments (and trying not to worry about what might be happening to the groceries we'd gone and bought that were sitting in our trunk). After a half hour on hold with our insurance carrier I finally got the number of a lab. And then the fun really started. My entire transaction with the lab involved me 'talking' to a woman's computer generated voice and while I'm not a fan of this kind of service I admit I did get an appointment rather quickly. It was only after I hung up that I realized I'd gone and committed to an afternoon appointment when my blood-work was supposed to be done in the AM.

I googled the lab and dialed their local number. I then hit the number 0 on my phone in that old tried and true method of bypassing the 'voice' in order to speak to a real person.

The following is our dialogue.

Voice (far too cheerful because she knew she held the cards): You've indicated you'd like to speak to a person. I'm sorry (no she wasn't), that option isn't available. Please visit our website at www.wereallydontgiveashit.com.

I'd already been to that website and it hadn't helped at all so I called the original number back in order to talk to the voice who'd been so helpful the first time around.

Voice: How can I help you? (She kindly gave me a list of options. I chose 'reschedule an appointment', SIMPLE!)

Voice: Would you like to reschedule a date, time, or location?

Me: Date and time.

Voice: You'd like to reschedule a date and time. Great (really? that's great?)! What day would you like?

I chose the same date. I just wanted morning instead of afternoon.

Voice: You chose February eighth. What time would you like?

Me (getting all excited because this really was simple after all): 10:00!

Voice (dramatic pause): Ohhhh, I'm sorry! That time isn't available. Let me tell you what times I do have. I have 2:45 and 4:30.

Me: NO!

Voice: Okay. Let's pick a different day. What day would you like?

Me: February ninth.

Voice: You chose February ninth. What time would you like?

Me: 10:00.

Voice: (dramatic pause): Ohhhh, I'm sorry! That time isn't available. Let me tell you what times I do have. I have 1:15 and 2:30.

Me: NO!

Voice: Okay. Let's pick a different day. What day would you like?

Me (in addition to getting really tired of Voice's phony sympathy and ready to tear my hair out for fear I'd have to go through an entire calendar month): You **%#ing bitch!

Voice (dramatic pause and then quite primly): I'm sorry, I don't understand that request (oh yes she did!). Voice (continuing in a wounded tone): What day would you like?

Feeling bad now that I'd offended Voice, I picked another day and she finally gave gave me my 10:00 appointment.

Now I just have to hope for a calm, non-windy morning in order to get ashore without the dinghy motor failing and getting soaked in order to pass out while getting my blood drawn.

But before that happens Wilbur will want to go ashore because he knows the other marina dogs have marked his spots from the previous day and the marina employees are just dying to see him...

Multiply this times thirteen and you now have an idea of what life is like for us here on the waters of Florida.

Noooo! Don't make me get back on the boat! I have to piss on that tree that Harry just pissed on!

 

 

 

 

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Yeah, that thing I mentioned about highs and lows?

"At least oars don't break down!" a fellow boater called to us as we rowed past him in our dinghy here in the Boot Key Harbor mooring field a couple of days ago.

And why were we rowing? Because our newly repaired dinghy motor refused to start, that's why.

 

One of our neighbors checking things out

I guess this is the low I was worrying about after experiencing the high of surviving the nasty front that blew in the night before.

What a confluence of events we've experienced in the last couple of days.

When we arrived in Boot Key Harbor I was thrilled that Hans signed us up for a week long stay. I'm a bit of a wet blanket and I like the feeling of stability one gets with putting down roots for more than one day. After that I'm usually ready to leave and move on to our next adventure.

The day before our week long commitment here was to end, we made huge plans to finish up some loose ends. We would get up early and walk to Publix and Winn-Dixie for a huge provisioning run and then hire a taxi (it's like 5 dollars) back to the dock. I would get a load of laundry done along with both of us getting much needed showers, Hans would clean up our engine rooms, we would hoist the dinghy and motor into their respective resting places aboard the Knotty Cat, and the next day we would be off to the next anchorage before we blasted off to the Bahamas.

I woke up on Wednesday morning to Hans saying, "I've decided we're going to stay another week." I was thrilled as I love it here in Marathon, and then I thought maybe he was playing a cruel April Fool's joke on me. But he wasn't. He'd been following the weather and realized the week ahead weather forecast wasn't favorable at all for crossing to the Bahamas and all we'd do was sit in an anchorage using up all our water and food stores. And that's not fun.

After listening to the morning cruiser's net on channel 68 we decided to take Wilbur to the Hillbilly Diner (a new floating breakfast enterprise) where the owner promised bacon flavored treats to all furry friends. "Yaaaay!" Wilbur exclaimed, and we jumped into the dinghy. Only the outboard wouldn't start.

 

Even though we gave the motor several rests just in case we'd flooded it, it never did start and our plans quickly eroded. Wilbur did not get a bacony treat, laundry didn't get done (it's still piling up), a provisioning run was out of the question, but Phil, who happens to be on the boat right beside us, heard me complaining about our problem after we'd rowed* ashore, and offered his expertise. C'mon over! we exclaimed. And he did. BTW, Wilbur is not a fan of rowing; he wants to get to shore 'now' and half way through our slog to the dock he tried to get out and tow us.

*I realize there are a lot of cruisers who don't have outboards and they row everywhere (and they're in fantastic shape too!) but as long as we have an outboard we'd like for it to work.

Over the next few hours Phil and Hans systematically tore that bugger to pieces. Hoses, spark plugs, wires, you name it, that motor got the deluxe spa treatment (In my 50 plus years on this earth I've yet to receive this kind of attention). To me, the motor was starting to take on a smug kind of aura and she still refused to start. The next day on the cruiser's net our problem was made public and we received a lot of good info, yet our motor continued to remain mute. Hans finally gave up and started calling various enterprises and we were dismayed to find their repair schedules were over a week out. And then we found Alex from Sea Tek (who lives not far from us in the mooring field). Within a half hour of our S.O.S., Alex arrived and promptly got down to business. It was obvious that he knew what he was doing and after a few ministrations to our outboard, it fired up like it hadn't a problem in the world.

We were stunned as Alex really did nothing more than point out that a couple of wires Hans had cut had been unnecessary and then he scrubbed the spark plugs with a wire brush. That's it.

 

So, I think we have a bit of sibling rivalry going on here. The Knotty Cat has been gifted with all kinds of bling lately and even though the outboard (the Knotty Dog) did get her carburetor rebuilt back in January, this wasn't good enough. And while I'm sure it gave her a heady feeling to hold all of us hostage for a couple of days she knew she couldn't pull a fast one over on Alex.

 

Alex takes care of business

We were quite happy (Wilbur even more so) to finally motor over to the dinghy dock and Hans hiked to West Marine and bought even more stuff for her highness.

I only hope she's satisfied for the time being.

 

Just as I went to hit the publish button on this, Hans emerged from the starboard engine room and reported to me that the transmission oil plug fell apart in his hand and the dip stick is now stuck in place.

 

 

Daddy, will we ever get to the Bahamas?

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Shake Up Cruise (Day One)

 

At least one good moment

 

Hans finally managed to get a week of vacation and we decided to use it and take a small cruise down towards Caya Costa. We haven't gone away on the boat for more than a weekend since Thanksgiving of 2012 which I fondly recall as 'The Turkey Tour'. This trip is going to be remembered as the Shake Up Cruise (we've already experienced a couple of shake down cruises, this one is just shaking me up).

And just like the Turkey Tour where we managed to run aground within the first few miles and Hans broke a tooth, we've already had our first brush with excitement at our anchorage just around the corner from our marina. We had been sitting here on the hook for just a couple of hours and I thought I should write something on our blog to commemorate our first day of vacation but what's to write about sitting in an achorage you've sat in a bazillion times before?

And then honest to god, I'd just fired up my iPad when I heard Hans say, "What the hell?" I looked up and noticed a dinghy floating a few feet behind us and stupidly asked, "Why isn't there anyone in that dinghy?" And then I realized it was ours. Our painter had simply come apart in the middle and and the dinghy was bobbing away from us in a very jaunty see you later kinda way.

Everything happened at once; Hans jumped into his swimsuit, I opened the lazarette and dug around for his flippers, and Wilbur got in everyone's way. At first it appeared the dinghy was right behind us and not moving but in that minute or so of scrambling around it had drifted quite far from our stern. Hans leaped off the boat and took off swimming. And wouldn't you know it, Wilbur scrambled down the steps and only paused for a moment before he did his best Underdog impression and took a great dramatic leap into the water. Hans couldn't hear me yelling to him and found out the hard way that Wilbur had followed him when great big pitty paws raked down his back. I grabbed my camera and got a couple of quick videos but I had to put it down because things weren't going well.

Hans had to keep fending Wilbur off and then he had to turn around and swim back toward the boat in order to get Wilbur to come back to me. While I was yanking the dog back onto the boat I had to point Hans in the direction of where one of his flippers was floating because of course it fell off during his fracas with Wilbur. By now the dinghy was almost a distant memory and I could barely see it on the horizon where it was heading toward the eastern shore as there was apparently some kind of dinghy party it was late getting to. Now I was starting to worry about sharks (I always worry about sharks) and Hans was getting harder for me to see. I shot down below and turned on the instruments in case I was going to need to broadcast our location and when I came back up my heart jumped into my throat when I didn't see Hans. It took a moment but I spotted that bald head and he was still no where close to the dinghy. My heart jumped again when he turned around and waved his hands over his head in what I thought was a distress signal. I was about to grab the radio but I could see he was making good progress back to the Knotty Cat and soon he was back aboard. I forgot about the dinghy for a minute when I saw Hans' lip bleeding and his chest and back covered in bloody welts thanks to Wilbur's lifesaving efforts. If I'd been worried about sharks before... As for his arm waving, Hans was trying to tell me he couldn't see the dinghy and was trying get me to point it out. I'm just as glad I didn't know what he wanted because he was never going to get there on his own, and even if he did the current was so strong I don't know how he could have rowed back.

Wilbur was frantic and screaming up a storm while Hans was in the water and I had to tie him up to keep him from jumping back in

 

While getting the anchor up I managed to keep an eye on the dinghy and by now it was nearly on shore but still in water deep enough for us to manage. We were pretty close when a sailboat motored right past, snagged it for us and then shoved it to us as they went by. I caught it with a boat hook and secured it to the stern. Needless to say when we re-anchored that sucker got trussed up tighter than its ever been.

 

After his lip stopped bleeding

 

What a mess

 

By the time things settled down the boat was filthy. Wilbur shook salty dog hair everywhere, for some reason the floor of the cockpit was covered in muddy water, and all the stuff that I'd yanked from the lazarette was tossed everywhere.

When we finally got everthing squared away Hans stated, "Well, this was day one and we're only a couple of miles into this journey, what do you suppose will happen tomorrow?"

He probably shouldn't have asked that.

 

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Second Verse NOT the Same as the First!!

Oh my Dog, Mama!!! Not again!

So, yesterday morning found me once again back at our friend's still engine-less boat for attempt number two at getting that stinker (the boat, that is) across the bay to a boat yard in order to get a new engine dropped on board. Keep in mind that the new engine would in no way be connected to the boat (in other words, no help to us) but would simply be along for a majestic ride back to our marina.

It was decided that this time we'd leave much earlier than we did during the last fiasco as it seems the wind is much calmer during the early morning hours. That was the idea anyway. In the absence of a rabbit's foot, I crossed my fingers, made the sign of the cross (I'm not religious so I may have done it backwards), rubbed the scalp of a red head (Wilbur), and arrived on time equipped with my life jacket, coffee, and trusty boat hook. I then noted with dismay that the wind was blowing quite briskly and thought (actually hoped) that surely this trip would be cancelled.

It wasn't. And I tried to take solace in the fact that the crew didn't seem one bit worried.

This time in addition to the same crew as before, we had another live-aboard assisting us with his dinghy, and before I could change my mind we'd cast aside our lines and eased out of the slip. Once we were clear of the pilings and with the wind pushing our bow right back into them, our helper was there with his dinghy. It was like watching a dolphin nudge us along as he bumped into us keeping us on track until we were out of the marina and into the bay.

From then on it was smooth sailing (without sails) as we chugged along with the whaler lashed onto the port side. We slid into the boat yard's marina slick as snot, loaded the new engine via chains and a forklift, shouted bon voyage, and we were on our way once again.
I didn't even have time to worry about how we were going to get back into our slip again, when just like that, we were there.

Wow, no drama! So, how the hell am I supposed to get an interesting post out of that?

I decided to celebrate returning home in one piece with a Wendy's Frosty, and Wilbur (my lucky red head) was only too happy to help.

Oink!

Next stop, Daytona Beach

We had a very quiet night on our mooring last night as compared to Thursday night when the wind howled and waves bashed against the boat all night long.


After about an hour of getting the dinghy motor off the dinghy and back onto our boat and then hoisting the dinghy itself onto our stern (I'm telling you right now there are dinghy davits in our future!) we left St. Augustine at 11 AM, much later than we wanted to.


We're going to have to anchor tonight but unfortunately there are very few choices within our time frame of motoring. We'll either have to anchor early or late and I don't like doing this at night.




Wilbur keeps his ears open at all times. I think he's hoping someone on shore will call out to him and beg him to please come live with them so he can get off this crazy boat.

There's just something about horse drawn buggies that everyone seems to like. Unless of course you're on an episode of Seinfeld and someone has fed the horse a can of beans.

















Here is a foggy view of the Bridge of Lyons last night from inside the Knotty Cat.




Last night we went to Tini's Martini Bar with some fellow sailors. We met Greg (whose boat is named Harvey) back in Jacksonville Beach and caught up with him again in St. Augustine. He invited us and another couple, Connie and Andre, to join him. This is the first time we've actually had a chance to go out and socialize with cruisers we've met via the intracoastal and we had a great time.

I mean really, how can an evening that involves chocolate martinis be bad?

We're hoping yesterdays replacement of the impeller raw water pulley holds up today as we now head to Daytona.

We're Still Alive...

...after an overnight sail straight from hell.

We left Tilghman Island at 10 AM Wednesday morning and the forecast was so favorable we decided to take advantage of it and an overnight sail only made sense.

The day was bright and sunny and our new solar panels managed to keep the batteries from discharging. Our instruments use about 8 amps and therefor a day of sailing can drain them.

I'm very thankful though that Hans rolled them up and stored them at sundown or they would have blown away during the night.

Hans took a picture of this freighter at sunset when things were looking pretty good.

We had a fantastic 12 knot west wind and smooth seas until midnight. Five minutes later the predicted north wind hit with winds gusting over 30 knots, but we hadn't counted on swelling seas. The rest of the night we slalomed, sluiced, and slammed our way down the Chesapeake, and tried to stay out of the way of freighters that always seem to come out of nowhere. The seas boiled and rolled like a devil's cauldron and by one AM we had a ditch bag ready. It's also the first time I've ever seen Hans wear a tether.

We talked about finding a cove to duck into but the few we could find on the charts looked tricky and would take forever to get to so we just kept moving.

At the beginning of the trip when Hans had suggested we lash our dinghy to the stern (pictured in my last post) I thought it was unnecessary. But if we'd towed it like I wanted to I know it would have ended up at the helm with Hans along with the huge wave that broke over his head and flooded the cockpit at around 3 AM. The wave also blew out our stern light and dislodged the dinghy and it spent the rest of the night fighting it's restraints. Hans finally ended up yanking a piece of its line up over a winch where it held for the rest of the night.

I think this is when our GPS antenna bit the dust and we could no longer keep a fix so we used the navigation CD in my computer until it crashed and I couldn't get it going again. Out came the hand held GPS and it worked fine.

I started puking around 2 AM and by 4 AM I left Hans and lurched my way to the salon where I fell asleep and drooled all over the neck of my jacket. Trying to navigate our bodies around the boat was like being inside a pinball machine, we bounced off everything. At one point when Hans stood up he very nearly got thrown out of the cockpit and had to brace his feet widely apart and hang on tight in order to stay in the captains seat.

We had prayed that daylight would bring calmer seas but when I woke up at eight it was just as bad and now I had dry heaves. Seeing the waves in daylight was even scarier, and as we crossed the final shipping channel in Norfolk, Hans said, "Jesus Christ, we can't catch a break, look at that." Straight ahead of us was a massive submarine and two Coast Guard Cutters and we had to change course once again. Watching a submarine submerge while up close and personal is pretty interesting.

Finally, twenty four hours and 114 miles after leaving Tilghman we motored into Little Creek in Norfolk, Virginia, and docked at Little Creek Marina. It was still gusting and even with help we still ground our anchor into a piling at our very awkward slip. The Knotty Cat took her final revenge by snagging a dock line, that had fallen into the water, and snarled it up in her starboard propeller.

Hans wasn't able to get a nap until after we walked about 2 miles to a West Marine to get a new antenna for the GPS. They didn't have the one we want but a West Marine in South Carolina does. They'll get it to us somewhere along our trip.

We left Little Creek this morning after a tug of war with the Knotty Cat over that tangled dock line. We thought we won but as we left the marina we noticed white smoke coming out of the exhaust. We are currently motoring south into the Norfolk Harbor Reach using the port engine. We hope after a little bit of rest it will clean up its act.

We are now headed toward the Intercoastal and plan on taking the Virginia Cut. We had really hoped to go via The Dismal Swamp but we need to use the quickest route possible this time, as Hans has work and poor Wilbur is in Doggy Day Care while we're away. I have to say though that as much as I miss our little boy I'm very glad he's not on this trip.