Entertainment at Sea.

Watching greedy pigs being fed on a beach. Very entertaining.

Back when Hans and I were land based in the good old U.S. of A., we were easily entertained thanks to things like; Direct-TV, internet, and cell phone service. But, since we have virtually none of those particular amenities in the pretty much off the beaten path of the Exumas, we've had to find other sources of entertainment.

When we were in Staniel Cay and Blackpoint Cay, we would dinghy ashore daily and meet our fellow cruising friends. When we're anchored near a sandy beach we can take Wilbur ashore and let him burn off some steam.

There are some areas in the Exuma Park Cays with mooring balls scattered in the anchorages. The nice thing about this is, the holding is pretty good so we choose to anchor instead of paying the $20.00 per day fee. However, not everyone wants to anchor and so they choose a mooring ball instead. And that's when things can get pretty entertaining.

A couple of days ago, I witnessed possibly the most bizarre mooring ever attempted, and also discovered that holding a pair of binoculars to your face for over an hour will give you a headache.

This particular crew, after hooking the mooring pennant with their boat hook several times and then dropping it because they had no idea what to do with it, finally figured out they needed lines on the bow of their boat with which to tie it to. But instead of tying a line to a cleat and threading it through the eye of the pennant, one of the men (Man #1) jumped into their dinghy, zoomed around to the bow, tied a line to the mooring and then attempted to toss it up to another man (Man #2) on the deck. For some reason Man #2 on the deck decided to forego using the boat hook and the line kept falling back into the water where it then managed to get wrapped around the propellor of their dinghy motor. Since the dinghy was now rendered useless it got tied to the mooring ball. "What are they doing now?" Hans asked. With my elbows propped on the coaming because my arms were getting tired from holding the binoculars up for so long, I commented that Man #2 was dropping a couple of items down to Man #1. "Oh, my god," I laughed. "He's throwing swim fins down to him." The big boat was still not secure, and now Man #1, who'd been in the dinghy was now in the water. "You won't believe this!" I told Hans, but since I refused to give up the binoculars I had to describe the situation. "The guy in the water is still trying to toss a line up to the guy on the boat, and the guy on the boat is just standing there." "Still no boat hook?" Hans asked. "No boat hook," I confirmed. Of course the big boat drifted away and my heart was in my throat when Man #2 charged back toward the mooring while Man #1 had to fend himself off the hull. Miraculously, Man #2 finally caught the tossed line and secured it to the bow. For awhile we were afraid they were only going to use one line but then Man #2 dropped another line down to Man #1 who then tied it to the mooring and once again went through the agonizing procedure of throwing the other end back up to Man #2.

It's hard to believe these guys were on a motor yacht that's probably worth close to a million dollars. Some people have more money than sense.

The next morning when we went for a dinghy ride I made Hans take us past their boat so I could see exactly what they'd done. They used lines that have a loop in one end. On each line they ran the loop through the eye of the pennant and then ran the line through the loop to the boat so no way in hell could they release it from the mooring without doing it from the water. And as the boat moved with the wind and the current, one line would bear the whole weight of the boat while the other line went slack. They did absolutely nothing right and I felt sorry for the people anchored directly behind them (and earlier those people had moved far away from the rest of us because they thought we were all too close), because if those lines had chafed through, that huge boat would have drifted right down on them.

On to other forms of entertainment.

Even though they may not admit it, all cruisers listen in on other peoples conversations on the VHF. Unfortunately the conversations aren't always interesting but sometimes you can pick up a weather forecast or some good local navigation information.

We used to play a lot of Scrabble but since our games usually tend to run into the wee hours (like 8 PM or so) we would just go to bed expecting to pick up the game the next day. Normally, this would be okay if we lived in a house that didn't move. So until we invest in an expensive 'boat safe' version (meaning it can withstand the resulting wakes from inconsiderate motor-heads), or we delight in figuring out the hieroglyphics of the previous night's game with our morning coffee, we've given that up for now. We did find a backgammon game at a cruiser's library (boat speak for 'the head') at a transient marina and we've played several games during lazy afternoons.

Back when we had TV, Hans and I occasionally enjoyed a movie night on the Knotty Cat. We'd settle down with our drinks and popcorn and spend the evening laughing until we cried while we watched free DVD's from our local library; Spinal Tap (the Stonehenge scene nearly did me in), Waiting for Guffman, Victor Borgia (believe it or not, our generation did not invent humor and Mr. Borgia was a comedic genius), and anything we could find that starred Ben Stiller. But we don't use our TV now and have accidentally rediscovered the ancient art of 'reading aloud'. It happened the other night in the cockpit when Hans felt the need to share a passage from Dave Barry's newest book. Once again we got to laughing and finally had to stop so we could blow our noses. I have a feeling we'll continue this pastime until we get back to the states.

And last but not least. If you find yourself at anchor and have no neighbors to spy upon, you can always take candid cheesecake photos of your dog or cat and then come up with what you believe are hysterically brilliant memes (your Facebook friends may think otherwise). This can be highly entertaining, for a little while anyway, although probably not so much for your pets who would actually prefer you go read to each other in the cockpit and leave them the hell alone.

 

 

 

 

 

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From Paradise to a Completely Different Place..

Paradise in Cabbage Key

.....except, hmmmm, I thought hell was hot.

And believe me, it's anything but hot here in sunny Florida; it's bitter cold.

Earlier this week I composed a light hearted post about our interesting experience in Cabbage Key where we enjoyed a Hamburger in Paradise. And then something bad happened. My post disappeared. Just like that.

Well, crap!

I can't bring myself to try and duplicate it so I'll just summarize it here:

We anchored outside Cabbage Key the night before we entered the marina.

You can't get into Cabbage Key Marina as a transient, sooner than 3PM in order for them to accommodate the ferry and lunchtime dinghy traffic. Once you get there, you'll learn you can't fill your water tanks (they rely on a small water tower), there is no garbage disposal, the shower facilities require a $10.00 key fee (I opted to shower on the boat), and dogs are not permitted, although Wilbur got a huge reprieve when the ladies in the gift shop informed us he could let off some steam as long as he was leashed. We never let Wilbur off his leash anyway so that wasn't a problem. They have one washer and dryer so I was able to get a load of laundry done.

And for dinner we finally taped a dollar bill with our boat's name on the wall and ate that damn cheeseburger in paradise.

It was a fun time but if I were to do it again I'd just dinghy in for lunch and save the whole overnight dockage fee. Don't get me wrong, we had a wonderful time there and I'm glad Wilbur got to have his rollies, but the fees just didn't justify the means.

Hans places our Knotty Cat dollar bill on the wall.

We left the marina, spent a night at JN Ding Darling Refuge anchorage and then ended up in Fort Myers Mooring Field for this year's version of the Polar Vortex.

We approached the mooring field with some trepidation (no pendants! can't read the numbers! rude staff! Active Captain reviewers exclaimed), but luckily we picked up our mooring lickety split. And that was pretty much the best thing that happened to us for the next three days. BTW, we approach from the stern where Hans can see the ball and after hooking it I run a line through it (the other end is already cleated to the bow) and then run like hell for the front before my arms get yanked from their sockets. This was one of the longest pendants (or pennant whichever term you prefer) I've ever seen, something like 10 feet. We secured another line to it and now the ball was centered in front of the boat.

The mooring ball.

 

After getting the dinghy in the water we took Wilbur and all of our garbage ashore. Of course Wilbur stomped all over the garbage bags with his big pitty feet and then nearly fell in the water at the dock. We had a nice dinner at Bonita Bill's where we heard people talking about how it was gonna blow like hell the next day.

I was sound asleep when a huge bang woke me up. Bang! I heard it again and it was right near my head. I woke Hans up and he told me it was the waves slapping the boat. Umm, I don't think so, and then Bang! There it went again. Hans got up, I got up, and Wilbur got up which is very unusual because the little man prefers to stay in bed until noon. We all poured out into the cockpit and while Wilbur and I shivered in the freezing wind and rain, Hans went up front where he found that our mooring ball was deep underneath the Knotty Cat and pounding the hull near our berth.

The wind and current were having a huge fight and neither was willing to give up and soon the mooring ball was stretched way out in front of us so we went back to bed. Bang! Bang! It was back again and I was sure it was going to end up in bed with us. The lines on the cleats were groaning in agony, and then we heard an odd squeaking noise. The ball was now wedged under the boat. We both went up to the bow this time and we couldn't budge the lines as the ball had no intention of leaving its new home. I refused to go back to bed since the amplified noise of the groans and squeaks were scaring me to death so I stayed in the salon. Wilbur abandoned me and joined Hans down below.

We were due for a mobile pump out in the morning so we thought we'd ask the dock master if he could see where the ball was actually wedged. It was possible that it had passed under our center pod and if so that would be a huge problem. But it was too windy for a pump out so we were on our own. By leaning way out over the stern Hans was able to see that the ball was stuck up front between the starboard hull and the center pod, so we finally fired up the engines and reversed off it. Just like that the ball popped out. The wind took over and the ball was way in front of us and try as we might we couldn't pull it in so we could tie it off closer to the boat. We finally gave up on that project and went back down below. It was afternoon by now and I was tired and grumpy.

Bang! Bang!

Sonofabitch! It was back.

I raced up front and once again the lines were under the boat. And then we drifted back a bit and the ball was right there beside us on the port side. I asked Hans if we couldn't just grab its line now and tie it off to the cleat.

So he did.

The ball was now bouncing next to us and I just knew it would probably start smacking the hull. "Looks okay to me," Hans said. "Tap,tap,tap," the mooring ball replied. "You bastard!" I yelled. If I could have, I'd've smashed that mooring ball to pieces. I told Hans surely we could work that line over to the center cleat therefore centering it under the bow and rendering it incapable of touching the boat.

So he did.

Let me tell you we had that sucker cinched so tight it could have sang with the Bee Gees.

Down below we went and while the wind roared and the currents ripped we were pretty much at peace.

I was in desperate need of a shower and not knowing how much water we had left (in addition to the fact that it was icy cold) we decided to dinghy into the marina to use their facilities. This time we kept the dog and the garbage far away from each other but the problem this time was the waves. We weren't a foot away from the boat when a wave crashed over the front of the dinghy and my newly washed jeans and I got soaked. It didn't help that our mooring field was the furthest from the office so imagine what we looked like by the time we got there.

Back on the boat we continued our communication with our friends from up north who are flying down to join us today. Trying to plan something like this when you're on the move is not easy. Scheduling flights, weather, and our actual location have made this very interesting. "Bring sweatsuits and warm clothes," is probably not what our guests wanted to hear.

Last night the wind was blowing so hard it actually ripped two out of four of our solar panel connections apart. These connections are (or were) so strong we have a tool to disconnect them when we want to roll them up and put them away. We brought them in for the night and before we left this morning (yes, we actually left!!) I tested one of them and it appears to still work.

These are our solar panel connectors.

So, this morning we got up early, put the dinghy on the deck (impossible to do until today), ditched that damn mooring ball, and headed out into the gulf. Forty degrees is cold to be out here but the sun is shining.

Next stop, Naples.

 

 

Posted with Blogsy

Just one big party!

Cruising should be this much fun (Hans took this incredibly fake picture at Grabber's)!

So here we sit in our slip at Marsh Harbor, and our marina is right beside a Moorings Marina. And just in case you didn't know it; 'Moorings' is a Charter company for folks who don't own boats, yet want to experience the wonderful world of sailing.

Yeah, right.

It's about 5:30 PM, and as I sit here worrying about why the hell I can smell lighter fluid when I'm pretty sure everyone has propane grills, I'm already toasted because:

We endured yet one more horrible docking.

My camera just gave up the ghost, its lens won't close, and its now giving me an accusatory fish eye, most likely due to sand build up.

Wilbur missed his potty patch and I had to chase him down with Clorox wipes.

Again.

We just spent a horrendous amount of money on 2 cases of beer which will probably last about a nano-second and we still have over a month remaining to be here.

Our sheets are full of dog hair and sand, and I would really like to dry off with a clean towel for a change.

We can't figure out what kind of bug bites we have all over our legs, and since I'm geographically challenged I'm praying we don't end up with West Nile Disease.

My sink is full of filthy dishes and my hair is a greasy mess.

We have encountered very few affordable laundry facilities so I wear the same thing every day, and have finally decided to quit wearing underwear except for when when I wear a sun-dress, since sliding down a rock wall to your dinghy, at low tide in a dress sans undies, is not recommended let me tell you, unless you wish to entertain the natives.

So while I sit here (with my greasy hair) in our windy cockpit and watch all the 'Moorings' people as they jauntily trip down the dock, jogging behind their carts loaded with fresh supplies and donned in their non-ripped, freshly ironed and creased jeans, colorful golf shirts, spanking clean docksiders, hair that's actually seen a hair dryer in the last year, and just busting to brag to all their co-workers about their thrilling sailing adventures, I just have to laugh and say, "You think you're a cruiser? C'mon over here and let me tell you about cruising. Better yet, go on out there for a few months and then let me see how creased and clean you are at the end of the day!

Oh Dear God, it kills me to admit that a few years ago I was once one of those 'Mooring' people!!!

Florida! Finally! And some new friends!

We were able to avoid the rest of the ICW in Georgia when we went 'outside' yesterday. And even though there was very little wind and it was once again coming from a different direction than NOAA had forecasted, we were able to sail!!

Yaaaaay!

We motored on into Fernandina, FL and headed for the Fernandina Marina in order to rent a mooring for the night and as we were approaching the dock I could have sworn I heard someone call out my name. I looked out over the water and saw someone waving their arms at me, but I knew I couldn't possibly have heard my name and Hans told me to get on the radio in case they were trying to warn us about something. I called them and imagine how surprised I was to hear their response, "This is Bright Eyes."

I've been following the story of Joey and Christine of Bright Eyes for quite sometime and I was thrilled to finally see some fellow sailing bloggers. Once we got settled at our mooring we invited them over for a visit.

Our dinghy hangs over our stern and blocks our swim platform and Hans was concerned that they would have difficulty getting on board. I told him that if this old 50 year old woman could scramble up the back of the boat I was pretty sure a young couple in their 20's would be just fine.





And here they are!

Joey and Christine.


Also joining us last night was Drew's wife Theresa so we had a cockpit full of people and a very excited pit bull.

Wilbur is feeling extra special spiffy today after he found his picture on the Bright Eyes blog. One of my favorite posts of theirs is the one that shows their boat after they ran aground. It's pretty impressive so you really should check it out.