Updates and pictures.

Wilbur used to have a doggy bed in our apartment and we called it his lair. It's where he would take any contraband he could pilfer from trash baskets and what not. We knew as soon as we saw him slink into his 'lair' that he was most likely being a bad boy.

Here he is in his new lair (under our settee in the salon area) which is where he likes to go when he gets hot or we give him an empty water bottle to torment.


This is the marina we stayed at in LaBelle. It's not really a marina as much as it is a dock that can hold up to eight boats. By looking behind Hans, you can see how much use it's had recently and why we didn't bother to dock Mediterranean style and just pulled up along side.

BTW, those weeds or lillies or whatever they are make a great place for all the crockigators to hang out! They are freaking scary and even though I've tried to get pictures of them, they rarely do much more than break the surface of the water.




The sign we decided to ignore. For a brief moment we thought we were busted when someone on the dock called out an Ahoy to us. Luckily it was just a very nice man who'd spotted us from the LaBelle Bridge and being a boat lover, he had some questions for us.

Part of the fun of cruising is meeting a lot of nice people.

Although this reminds me. When we were at Labelle Marina yesterday and were in the process of docking, a man came out of no where and caught the dock lines I tossed to him. He asked us where we were from and upon hearing 'Pittsburgh', he turned on his heel, and without a word stalked off not even giving me a chance to tell him how cute his yappy little chihuahua was. Hans didn't help matters the next day when he ran into Mr. Happy and his yappy dog and said, "What a handsome boy he is, what's his name?" Mr. Happy snarled, "She's a girl and her name is Cocoa." "Oh my, isn't she pretty!" Hans exclaimed, but Mr. Happy wasn't having any of it and once again stalked away.
He's literally the first southerner I've met who still hates us Yankees!






Do we pay attention to signs?

Of course not!









We had plenty of time this morning so we left Wilbur on the air conditioned (yet starting to heat up already) boat and walked to the Coffee Shop in Labelle for some breakfast. I didn't take any pictures of the interior but I loved it!! All very chic and espresso-ish! We each had a sausage egg and cheese biscuit sandwich with our coffee and they were delicious! It's far too hot to use the galley right now so it was the first real breakfast we've had in a week. Do I dare tell you that I eat a cold Pop-Tart every morning? And since it's so hot I don't even make coffee. And coffee is something I normally can't do without.







We were going to go through the Franklin Lock at its 4 PM opening today but ended up arriving two hours early. However, right at the lock there is cheap dockage at a campground.
A government run campground, and don't get me started on things that are run by the government!
Oh, what the hell, here goes anyway! A couple of days ago we thought we might want to stay here in order to zip through the 9AM lock opening and Skipper Bob had info that said to call three days in advance in order to get one of these wonderful slips. We called the number and were told to call another number, which we did, and son-of-a-gun we were told to call yet one more number, and the rather rude and stupid sounding woman who answered said she had no idea what we were talking about, and hung up on us.

So today when we realized we'd be stuck for two hours waiting for the lock to open, we called the number again. Of course we were told to call another number, and when we did, we lucked on to someone who must be new and naive, and forgot that she worked for the government, because she was very nice and said, "Take any slip you want and pay at the office."
I won't go into the particulars of how adventurous it is to dock in a storm but we finally got tied up and $24.00 later (that includes electric), here we are for the night.



This squirrel was absolutely furious when Wilbur (on his leash) pranced past it. It chattered up a storm and I've never gotten this close to one in my life. It didn't care one bit when I took its picture and I probably could have gotten closer but there's this thing called rabies that was in the back of my mind.











Wilbur wants to know what all the chatter is about.






















"Mama, did you hear what that creatchter said to me?"

Poor Pitty.
















Hans and Wilbur enjoying the air conditioning this evening.


Tomorrow we hope to zip through the Franklin Lock and work our way toward Tarpon Point. At that time we'll once again be dealing with currents and tides, something I surely haven't missed here in the Okeechobee Water Way.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen!

And I say that because after catching a fish so very easily the first day we threw out a trolling line, we haven't had a nibble since!

This is most likely because we've been on the 'banks' which is basically the same thing as trying to fish on flooded land.

We finally left Bimini and headed for West End on Wednesday. The winds were not what we'd been hoping for and this meant we had to motor nearly the whole way through the Northwest Providence Channel for about nine hours and even in these deepest of waters our lures held no interest for the Bahamian fishies.

West End was an interesting anchorage but we held tight and actually ended up dinhying ashore the next day. Of course this meant Master Wilbur had to go with us and as soon as we were in shallow waters he was the first one out of the dinghy and he had himself a wonderful zoomie time. Poor Wilbur (whom I swear would make an excellent Blood Hound) couldn't suck up all the new smellies at the beach fast enough and was completely enamoured of every abandoned Conch shell we passed. He would brace his body and dig each and every toenail into the sand, thus bringing me to a complete halt, and would then, with eyes closed in complete rhapsody, lovingly run his tongue over every inch of shell that he could. I would eventually end his love making by yanking him to his feet and unfortunately onto the next abandoned Conch shell.

When he was finally worn out we stopped at a beach side restaurant for a couple of beers (5 bucks apiece! Ouch!) and an appetizer, and were very thankfull that no one cared that we had a dog with us. Actually just as we were leaving a woman who was sitting nearby made some doggy loving noises and we just had to stop. It turns out she and her husband have an 85 pound pitty and like all pitty owners she wanted to gush over Wilbur. During the gushing session Wilbur found yet one more empty Conch shell and at one point I feared he'd dig a hole to China he went so nuts!

We finally moved on the next day and anchored in Mangrove Cay with a few other boats and enjoyed a quiet night. The next day we set out again and this time anchored in Great Sale Cay. We dropped our dinghy in the water and rowed over to another boat we'd been in contact with throughout the day. Jackie and Seldon have an Island Packet (we have and Island Packet Cat) and it is a beautiful boat indeed! That night at anchor was possibly one of the quietest I've ever experienced and looking out over the water was like looking at a smooth pane of glass. Never once during the night did we hear a thing!

But after two days of no internet coverage we decided our next stop would be Grand Cay. Our last weather info had told us that a storm with 25-30 knots of wind was due to move through at around midnight on Sunday and at least Grand Cay had a marina with internet access.

We sailed on into Grand Cay (Rosie's Marina) at a little after noon, and after jumping on to Passage Weather dot com we found the storm had been moved up to 6 PM. (BTW, don't go into the harbour at Rosie's during low tide if you draw more than 3 feet).

The storm hit at 6:30 PM (as the updated forecast told us it would) and as of 10:30 PM it's still blowing stink out there. But we honestly feel that if we were at Great Sale Cay we'd be okay. The bottom there is a really great kind of sandy clay with great holding power and is protected from everything except a South wind.

We do not have SSB and have to rely totally on the internet. And since I have absolutely no trust in NOAA, I will continue to honor Passage Weather until it's out of our range.



We saw this water spout just as we were getting close to Grand Cay. Hans pointed it out to me and my heart just jumped as all I could think was 'TORNADO'!!!!!! Luckily after a spell it just disipated but the other boaters here in the marina saw it.


















Low lying clouds here in the marina. Once the wind and rain started, it never let up and even though I'm pretty sure we'd be okay at an anchorage, I'm glad we're thoroughly tied up at a dock!

As I've mentioned before, Internet coverage is iffy but I'll post whenever I can.

Mayday! Mayday!

Well, not quite a Mayday, but I did have to call the Coast Guard.

On our radio.

I kid you not!


It happened after our guests departed from their weekend visit aboard The Knotty Cat.




Clockwise from top left: Bob, Hans, John, and Sean.


Hans was motoring them to shore in the dinghy so they could high-tail it back home after one very hot and overly Wilburish sail with us.



They say they had a good time(?).


















We were in the St. Mary's area and since storms were predicted for the evening we decided to stay put as we were in a pretty secure anchorage.



Here is Hans checking out the ominous line of weather as it was approaching.















Wilbur checked it out as well.


Luckily this storm passed right over us and we only had a bit of rain. We weren't so lucky come ONE AM because that's when all hell broke loose.


It only took one whistling whoosh of wind to rush through our cabin and Hans and I were above board in a heart beat. We had the engines running and electronics powered up just as a huge thunder and lightning storm hit.

Before it was over we had dragged a couple of hundred feet on our anchor and watched everything within a few feet of us disappear in a haze of pounding rain and wind.

I can only liken it to being above the clouds while in flight; we were that blind to our surroundings.
Since we dragged parallel to the shore and weren't in danger of running aground (or into another boat) we didn't have to power the boat over the anchor and just let it reset itself.


And like most summer storms it was over rather quickly.









What storm?


















A few days later we had forecasts of horrendous storms and possible wind gusts of 50 to 60 knots. We were docked at Harrington Harbor South (a place that's become a bad luck symbol to us but that's another story) and wanted to get to St. Michael's so we set out anyway.

We found ourselves motoring along with practically no wind and pretty flat waters but since the Weather Channel wouldn't shut the hell up about the storms I wouldn't let Hans put up any sails.


And then it hit.


"13 knots." Hans announced calmly, then, "20 knots! 25 knots! 35 knots! Oh My God 42 knots!" Only now he was shouting, and I was watching a sloop that for some odd reason had both its main and jib up. We then stared in horror as the sloop heeled sharply and tried to head into the wind. The jib flapped madly as the crew tried to furl it and then their main sail ripped to shreds.


Just like that.


To add insult to injury they ran aground and after trying unsuccessfully to radio them I finally called the Coast Guard.


We were in no position to help them and it was all Hans could do to stay in the channel.


Of course it was only after I gave the Coast Guard the exact location of the 'boat in distress' , along with our boat name and our phone number (for future torment I'm sure!) that we noticed they'd managed to free themselves and start to motor towards land.


I wonder how one explains to the little woman that a few thousand dollars will be needed to replace the main sail. Hmmmm.