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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Saving money while at sea...

... and yet one more colossal myth of the life of a liveaboard has been debunked.

But it seemed like such a logical idea. No rent, cable TV, utilities, car insurance., Just us, the dog, the boat, a few provisioning runs, and some diesel. Dear God, the savings were going to abound!

Actually, the savings were going to abound if we could get the hell off the dock and therefore keep me out of the stores. Because you see, when you realize you're really going to cast off those lines for good and head out into the wild blue yonder, you really get the urge to shop. At least I did, and normally I detest shopping. But each and every day that brought us closer to launch I'd run (literally as we no longer had a vehicle) to the Dollar Tree (poor Hans was initially puzzled as to why I felt the need to buy 10 solar lights and a child's sand bucket. BTW, he's now been brought into the light), the Winn-Dixie, CVS, or Wal-Mart. It's like you think you'll never see another store again.

My Dollar Tree solar lights at work on our stern

So, with our boat packed to the brim with provisions we finally left our marina and motored a whole half hour to Boca Ciega Bay where we spent the night at anchor. Mostly, we wanted to make sure our new propellors and raw water cooling pumps were in working order before we made the big break. The next day we headed on out into the gulf and enjoyed a beautiful sail and came into the Longboat Key inlet (supposedly tricky but it was well marked). After the bridge opening we carefully (and yes, this part is a bit tricky, just follow your chart and motor along parallel to the bridge) found our way into the achorage at Moore's Crab Shack and dropped the hook.

At anchor in Longboat Key

We were so close to the docks that a dinghy ride certainly seemed to be the order of the day. At least that's what an anxious Wilbur told us, so off we went. Until our dinghy motor died, and died, and died. It never did come back to life and we ended up rowing. Not such a big deal and after a minor skirmish with some mangroves and trying to keep Wilbur from jumping out, we finally unloaded at a dock and had lunch where Wilbur enjoyed some fish paste (mine) and salty sticks (Hans' french fries). Once we were back on the boat we knew there was no way we'd be rowing on back in for the Superbowl (at night with the wind and the tide) and we were able to get our digital TV antenna working right about half time, not that it really mattered.

The trouble maker being towed behind us

We stayed for one more day (crappy weather) and then continued our way south. Before leaving we made arrangements for the Dinghy Motor Doctor to meet us in Sarasota and three hours later we pulled into Marina Jack's where he took her (note, anything that causes trouble on the boat is automatically labeled 'she') off our hands. Marina Jack's has a huge mooring field (we've stayed there twice) but we ended up in the tiny anchorage just north of the marina. Wow! We were saving about thirty dollars a day and boy were we excited. Of course this doesn't count the money we spent on diesel, ice, fuel additives, lunch out, and a trip to Publix (a nice one mile walk).

At anchor beside Marina Jack's in Sarasota

Wilbur has been doing his best to adapt to our new lifestyle. He's been really good about getting his 'business' done on the potty patch regardless of the generator being right in his face. But he does burn a lot of nervous energy during the day and when we're on the move he will not go down below and instead, shivers and pants in the cockpit. Once we drop the anchor he'll gobble down his dinner and pass out in our bunk. It's very strange and almost lonely to spend the evening without a dog snoring in the salon. Our last day in Sarasota was extremely stressful for Wilbur when we left him alone (unforgivable sin in his pitty book) while we walked to Publix and then to add insult to injury we locked him down below when the Dinghy Motor Doctor showed up with our outboard. You see, a dinghy, to Wilbur, is just like a car to other dogs and if he thinks for one second we might try to go for a ride without him he goes nuts. Needless to say we didn't want him screaming like a tasmanian devil at the good doctor.

A nervous and cold pitty

With the motor and its rebuilt carburetor and new fuel line now returned I went down below to check on the little man only to find him puking on the floor of our berth. I totally felt his pain and would have gladly puked with him as we had just received the doctor's final bill.

To the tune of $551.00.

So at the end of the day, we've been gone one week, we've spent over $700.00, and we've moved a whopping twenty miles.

At this pace our retirement funds will be gone by the time we get to the Bahamas.

Let the savings begin!

A warm and happy pitty

 

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