John is a certified diver. He has not dived in years, because he does not own any diving equipment. That is, he did not own any diving equipment until last week. One of his goals in cruising the Florida Keys was to find a great deal on all the gear he needs. He wants to dive on our trip while I snorkel and he wants to start cleaning the bottom of Island Chariot himself. After three weeks of searching and researching, equipment found John a piece or two at a time.
First came three large yellow tanks and a mini tank. The tanks had not been certified since the year 2003. John brought them to a local dive shop in Marathon to have them certified and filled. He purchased a 60-foot hose so he can leave the tanks on the dock when he cleans Island Chariot. The missing piece for boat bottom cleaning capability was a gauge to show how much air is left in the tank. Mark at the dive shop had this to say about that. “Dude, when you’re getting low on air, you’ll hear PHFFFFT, phffft and you won’t be able to breathe. Just come up then. It’s kind of dangerous, but you don’t really need a gauge.” Having served as the Safety Officer for the entire Second Marine Air Wing during his final two years in the USMC, John was uncomfortable with that solution.
While his newly acquired tanks were at the dive shop, a buoyancy compensator, regulator, and several other pieces of equipment found John. It was his good fortune to find a couple whose diving days were over and who were very pleased to have the equipment out of their house. Cleaning out is so cleansing to the soul, whether it is our physical space or our unfinished relationship business. John was pleased to be part of their cleansing experience.
We are still deciding how and where to store the tanks. Some people like to store them on deck. We like the deck uncluttered. Perhaps a deck box is in our future.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Sunsets in Marathon
Three weeks in Marathon have flown like they did in Miami Beach! Neither John nor I had ever been to Marathon before we chose it as our cruising destination. Fortunately, it is as beautiful and cruiser-friendly as we had hoped.
People on our dock at Marathon Marina are very social. Many of them are regulars here in the winter. Happy hour at sunset is a daily, well-attended event. Every evening, fellow live-aboards grab their conch shells, which have been drilled out and made into horns, and gather on the dock near Island Chariot. Our dock has a clear view of the sun dipping into the ocean. Just after the sun sinks out of sight, everyone raises their conchs to their lips and blows into them like bugles to signal the end of the day. The sound is like a cruise ship honking upon entering a channel. Last Saturday at the Big Pine Flea Market, I purchased a conch so I could join the choir. It’s the closest I’ll get to a Pamlico Community Band experience in Marathon! Just prior to sounding the conchs, we all wait with heightened anticipation for the illusive “green flash”. When conditions are right, just as the sun disappears you can see a split second of green light. Conditions are rarely just right. We were fortunate that only three days after our arrival we witnessed the “green flash”. Beautiful!
Elvis Ann is enjoying Marathon, because we have made so many new friends. She frequently entertains the happy hour crowd with parrot tricks while we all wait for sunset. More than anything, Elvis Ann loves attention. She sits on John’s hand. He holds her talons and gives the commands. She swings, hangs, cradles like a baby in his arms, lays on her back into his other hand, falls over dead when he points his finger at her and says “bang!”, and turns around in a circle. The “bang” trick is a real crowd pleaser. John gives everyone a chance to “shoot” her and say “bang!”. Elvis Ann performs perfectly every time!
We have made many good friends here and are in no hurry to leave…
People on our dock at Marathon Marina are very social. Many of them are regulars here in the winter. Happy hour at sunset is a daily, well-attended event. Every evening, fellow live-aboards grab their conch shells, which have been drilled out and made into horns, and gather on the dock near Island Chariot. Our dock has a clear view of the sun dipping into the ocean. Just after the sun sinks out of sight, everyone raises their conchs to their lips and blows into them like bugles to signal the end of the day. The sound is like a cruise ship honking upon entering a channel. Last Saturday at the Big Pine Flea Market, I purchased a conch so I could join the choir. It’s the closest I’ll get to a Pamlico Community Band experience in Marathon! Just prior to sounding the conchs, we all wait with heightened anticipation for the illusive “green flash”. When conditions are right, just as the sun disappears you can see a split second of green light. Conditions are rarely just right. We were fortunate that only three days after our arrival we witnessed the “green flash”. Beautiful!
Elvis Ann is enjoying Marathon, because we have made so many new friends. She frequently entertains the happy hour crowd with parrot tricks while we all wait for sunset. More than anything, Elvis Ann loves attention. She sits on John’s hand. He holds her talons and gives the commands. She swings, hangs, cradles like a baby in his arms, lays on her back into his other hand, falls over dead when he points his finger at her and says “bang!”, and turns around in a circle. The “bang” trick is a real crowd pleaser. John gives everyone a chance to “shoot” her and say “bang!”. Elvis Ann performs perfectly every time!
We have made many good friends here and are in no hurry to leave…
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Arrival!
We woke before the sun on Monday, January 5th, excited about heading southwest to Marathon, FL. For more than 10 years John and I have imagined sailing south to the Florida Keys for the winter. Taking our time, seeing the sights, then landing in the Keys is #66 of 104 items on my bucket list.
Exactly one month after arriving at Sunset Harbour Yacht Club in Miami Beach, we pulled away from slip E-109 at 7AM and headed toward Key Biscayne. Rather than heading out to sea the way we came, we stayed inside the Biscayne Bay and exited at the Key Biscayne Channel into the Hawk Channel. The Hawk Channel runs about a mile offshore inside the reef separating the Atlantic Ocean from the Keys. We unfurled the mainsail, staysail, and genoa, then set our course for Rodriguez Key. Under robin’s-egg-blue skies and fluffy white clouds we sailed on a broad reach at 6.5 – 7.5 knots. The clear, blue-green seas were one to two feet with winds at 12 knots. Eric the autopilot held our course. John and I reclined on our cockpit cushions and grinned as we rode gently up and down on the waves.
We sailed about 50 miles on the first day and stopped for the night at the Rodriguez Key Anchorage opposite Key Largo. Fortunately, most boaters had reached their destinations so the anchorage was nearly empty. The water was so clear we could see the bottom eight feet below. The bottom was sandy and grassy, which made setting our 60-pound CQR anchor challenging. Once we were satisfied that the anchor would hold us for the night, John donned his wet suit, fins, mask, and snorkel and dove on anchor just to be sure. By 9PM we were asleep. John awoke at midnight to ensure we were not dragging the anchor as the winds picked up and clocked around to the east. All was well. John awoke again at 3:30AM. This time we were dragging. In fact, we had moved backward about three boat lengths. Thank goodness no boats were behind us and the east wind kept us from dragging aground. We were not in danger of running into anything, so we decided not to move the boat or reset the anchor. It seemed like the anchor had dug in again as we did not drag any further. John kept one eye open for the rest of the night. We had experienced another first that we had heard so much about, the anchor dragging.
As soon as we saw the first signs of daylight, we weighed anchor and headed for Marathon and, specifically, Boot Key Harbor. The winds were steady at 16-18 knots. With all the sails unfurled we maintained speeds of 8+ knots in two- to three- foot seas and 20 feet of water. We were frustrated at the tremendous number of lobster traps in the channel, which were difficult to see and challenging to avoid in the waves. Crab and lobster traps have small floats attached to thick lines attached to traps that sit on the bottom. Had we hit a trap, the line would likely have become wrapped around our propeller and pulled the shaft out of the boat causing us to take on water and possibly sink. With thousands of traps along the Keys it is hard to imagine there are any lobsters alive!
By 1:30PM on Tuesday we were pulling into Boot Key Harbor and Marathon Marina. NOAA weather forecasted a cold front and storms by Tuesday night or Wednesday, so we were delighted to be docked before the front arrived. We had finally arrived at the destination for which we set sail in October. Blue skies, 80-degree temperatures, light breezes, blue-green waters, manatees, mangrove trees, tiki bars, hundreds of fellow cruisers…we had seen it all in our minds for ten years, and the Keys are as breathtaking as we imagined them to be.
Exactly one month after arriving at Sunset Harbour Yacht Club in Miami Beach, we pulled away from slip E-109 at 7AM and headed toward Key Biscayne. Rather than heading out to sea the way we came, we stayed inside the Biscayne Bay and exited at the Key Biscayne Channel into the Hawk Channel. The Hawk Channel runs about a mile offshore inside the reef separating the Atlantic Ocean from the Keys. We unfurled the mainsail, staysail, and genoa, then set our course for Rodriguez Key. Under robin’s-egg-blue skies and fluffy white clouds we sailed on a broad reach at 6.5 – 7.5 knots. The clear, blue-green seas were one to two feet with winds at 12 knots. Eric the autopilot held our course. John and I reclined on our cockpit cushions and grinned as we rode gently up and down on the waves.
We sailed about 50 miles on the first day and stopped for the night at the Rodriguez Key Anchorage opposite Key Largo. Fortunately, most boaters had reached their destinations so the anchorage was nearly empty. The water was so clear we could see the bottom eight feet below. The bottom was sandy and grassy, which made setting our 60-pound CQR anchor challenging. Once we were satisfied that the anchor would hold us for the night, John donned his wet suit, fins, mask, and snorkel and dove on anchor just to be sure. By 9PM we were asleep. John awoke at midnight to ensure we were not dragging the anchor as the winds picked up and clocked around to the east. All was well. John awoke again at 3:30AM. This time we were dragging. In fact, we had moved backward about three boat lengths. Thank goodness no boats were behind us and the east wind kept us from dragging aground. We were not in danger of running into anything, so we decided not to move the boat or reset the anchor. It seemed like the anchor had dug in again as we did not drag any further. John kept one eye open for the rest of the night. We had experienced another first that we had heard so much about, the anchor dragging.
As soon as we saw the first signs of daylight, we weighed anchor and headed for Marathon and, specifically, Boot Key Harbor. The winds were steady at 16-18 knots. With all the sails unfurled we maintained speeds of 8+ knots in two- to three- foot seas and 20 feet of water. We were frustrated at the tremendous number of lobster traps in the channel, which were difficult to see and challenging to avoid in the waves. Crab and lobster traps have small floats attached to thick lines attached to traps that sit on the bottom. Had we hit a trap, the line would likely have become wrapped around our propeller and pulled the shaft out of the boat causing us to take on water and possibly sink. With thousands of traps along the Keys it is hard to imagine there are any lobsters alive!
By 1:30PM on Tuesday we were pulling into Boot Key Harbor and Marathon Marina. NOAA weather forecasted a cold front and storms by Tuesday night or Wednesday, so we were delighted to be docked before the front arrived. We had finally arrived at the destination for which we set sail in October. Blue skies, 80-degree temperatures, light breezes, blue-green waters, manatees, mangrove trees, tiki bars, hundreds of fellow cruisers…we had seen it all in our minds for ten years, and the Keys are as breathtaking as we imagined them to be.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
A Holly Jolly Christmas Week in Miami Beach
“Nothing is ever as over as Christmas.” That’s a quote from John’s mom that sums up our feelings yesterday. Yesterday morning, John and I took down the Christmas lights and put away all of the cards that had made our salon so merry. Two weeks ago, we ran 130 feet of white lights from the top of the mast forward and aft. People could enjoy the lights for miles around, because our mast is 63.5-feet high. Fellow cruisers anchored nearby have visited us in their dinghies just to tell us how much they enjoy our lights, which made us smile broadly and swell with pride.
Christmas morning aboard Island Chariot was a bit like Christmas morning in Whoville before the Grinch returned everything he stole from the Whos. We did not have a Christmas tree or stockings or plates full of decorative and delicious cookies. Gifts we gave and received were simple and meaningful. Holiday Kleenex boxes, two strands of white LED lights and Christmas cards from friends and family on both sides of the salon created a festive atmosphere. Without the usual hustle and stress, John and I had time to reflect on the meaning of Christmas. Many people call themselves “seekers” of God. Actually, God seeks us and did so in a major way by sending his only son to save us. He’s right here. All we have to do is accept Him and His amazing love for us. No further God-seeking is required. And, we paused as we do each day in moments of gratitude to name everything for which we are grateful at that time. Although we missed our families, we felt joyful and peaceful.
Later on Christmas Day we prepared a tossed salad and an appetizer of cheeses and crackers for nine of us, then drove the dinghy over to Hale Kai for a cruisers’ Christmas dinner. Hale Kai is a large Beneteau sailboat piloted by Richard and Sharon. We think Richard may be in the witness protection program. Here is the evidence: He changes his appearance every two years or so, has Delaware as the hailing port of his boat, lives in the mountains, and keeps his boat in Oriental, NC. I know what you’re thinking. I could be describing almost any cruiser! At any rate, we were an eclectic mix of people who had a delightful time together despite the fact that we would make an unlikely dinner party on land. I’ll say it again; the people we meet are the best part of cruising.
We all enjoyed each other so much on Christmas that we did some South Beach sightseeing together the next day, walking to the Holocaust Memorial and the Botanical Gardens before stopping for refreshments on Lincoln Road. The Holocaust Memorial recapped the horrors of what human beings are capable of doing to one another. I was glad we started the day there. My spirits were lifted again admiring the beauty of the flowers, shrubs and trees at the Botanical Gardens.
A few days later, we took a dinghy trip up the Miami River under bright sunshine and blue skies. We are used to creeks in rural settings. The Miami River feels like a creek; however, it runs through downtown Miami. It was strange seeing skyscrapers on the cement banks of the narrow river.
As we crossed the Biscayne Bay on our way back to Island Chariot, we fished a cane out of the water. It had a golden dragon’s head at the top with gold designs down the black cane. The owner had placed a return address label near the top, most of which was still intact. It was our pleasure to look up the owner’s phone number online and inform her that we would ship the cane to her in Pittsburgh. We called her to ensure she was still at that address. She was amazed that we found the cane and that we were returning it to her.
Earlier in December soon after our arrival in Miami Beach, we found a man’s designer dress shirt in the street still wrapped in plastic and on a hanger from leaving the dry cleaners. It was a Saturday night and the dry cleaners was closed. On Monday, we brought the shirt back to the dry cleaners. The numbered tag on it enabled the staff to identify its owner. They, too, were amazed that we would return the item. Isn’t that a sad commentary?
Then, again, is the story of my sunglasses. On the day we went to Parrot Jungle I left them in the shower room at our "gated, exclusive yacht club". Thirty minutes later when I realized what I had done, I went back into the shower room only to find them gone. I checked with the office staff and no one turned the sunglasses in to lost and found. So, I brought the case into the shower room with a note telling the person who found the glasses to take the case to protect them since I did not need it any more. But, I digress...
Wrapping up the holiday week, we took pleasure in a quiet New Year’s Eve celebration. Being lovers of sci-fi movies, John and I watched Transformers on Blu-Ray DVD, and then switched to the FOX network celebration in Las Vegas. The FOX celebration took place at the Mirage Hotel where we stayed when we were married in Las Vegas. Daughtry and David Cook performed, both of whom I enjoy, which is what made us choose that particular TV party. At midnight, we emerged from the salon up into the cockpit of Island Chariot and reveled in fireworks surrounding us from downtown Miami to South Beach.
The next morning brought us the Tournament of Roses Parade followed by much college football. The highlight of New Year’s Day was watching my alma mater win the Gator Bowl. It has been so long since the Huskers have had a winning team!
Normally, my resolutions, affirmations, and goals for the year ahead would be complete by now. I'm holding over last year's affirmation "I'm feeling energetic and lean weighing 118!" for another year. That's all I have so far. The problem with that goal wrapped in an affirmation is that I'm feeling too energetic and great weighing 128. Anyway, John and I decided that January 1 is an arbitrary date. We agreed to revisit our goals for 2009 and beyond on February 8. No, there is no particular reason for the date.
Today we joined several others at Sunset Harbour Yacht Club in celebrating Clare’s birthday. John met Clare and Steve when he brought our boat home for the first time. Part I of her party included mimosas and danishs at 10AM. Part II is a bar-b-que at 6PM. What a delightful way to spend a beautiful Miami Beach January day!
It is hard to believe our month in Miami Beach is up on Monday. It feels like the time-space continuum has folded. We can’t have been here for 31 days!
Marathon here we come!
Christmas morning aboard Island Chariot was a bit like Christmas morning in Whoville before the Grinch returned everything he stole from the Whos. We did not have a Christmas tree or stockings or plates full of decorative and delicious cookies. Gifts we gave and received were simple and meaningful. Holiday Kleenex boxes, two strands of white LED lights and Christmas cards from friends and family on both sides of the salon created a festive atmosphere. Without the usual hustle and stress, John and I had time to reflect on the meaning of Christmas. Many people call themselves “seekers” of God. Actually, God seeks us and did so in a major way by sending his only son to save us. He’s right here. All we have to do is accept Him and His amazing love for us. No further God-seeking is required. And, we paused as we do each day in moments of gratitude to name everything for which we are grateful at that time. Although we missed our families, we felt joyful and peaceful.
Later on Christmas Day we prepared a tossed salad and an appetizer of cheeses and crackers for nine of us, then drove the dinghy over to Hale Kai for a cruisers’ Christmas dinner. Hale Kai is a large Beneteau sailboat piloted by Richard and Sharon. We think Richard may be in the witness protection program. Here is the evidence: He changes his appearance every two years or so, has Delaware as the hailing port of his boat, lives in the mountains, and keeps his boat in Oriental, NC. I know what you’re thinking. I could be describing almost any cruiser! At any rate, we were an eclectic mix of people who had a delightful time together despite the fact that we would make an unlikely dinner party on land. I’ll say it again; the people we meet are the best part of cruising.
We all enjoyed each other so much on Christmas that we did some South Beach sightseeing together the next day, walking to the Holocaust Memorial and the Botanical Gardens before stopping for refreshments on Lincoln Road. The Holocaust Memorial recapped the horrors of what human beings are capable of doing to one another. I was glad we started the day there. My spirits were lifted again admiring the beauty of the flowers, shrubs and trees at the Botanical Gardens.
A few days later, we took a dinghy trip up the Miami River under bright sunshine and blue skies. We are used to creeks in rural settings. The Miami River feels like a creek; however, it runs through downtown Miami. It was strange seeing skyscrapers on the cement banks of the narrow river.
As we crossed the Biscayne Bay on our way back to Island Chariot, we fished a cane out of the water. It had a golden dragon’s head at the top with gold designs down the black cane. The owner had placed a return address label near the top, most of which was still intact. It was our pleasure to look up the owner’s phone number online and inform her that we would ship the cane to her in Pittsburgh. We called her to ensure she was still at that address. She was amazed that we found the cane and that we were returning it to her.
Earlier in December soon after our arrival in Miami Beach, we found a man’s designer dress shirt in the street still wrapped in plastic and on a hanger from leaving the dry cleaners. It was a Saturday night and the dry cleaners was closed. On Monday, we brought the shirt back to the dry cleaners. The numbered tag on it enabled the staff to identify its owner. They, too, were amazed that we would return the item. Isn’t that a sad commentary?
Then, again, is the story of my sunglasses. On the day we went to Parrot Jungle I left them in the shower room at our "gated, exclusive yacht club". Thirty minutes later when I realized what I had done, I went back into the shower room only to find them gone. I checked with the office staff and no one turned the sunglasses in to lost and found. So, I brought the case into the shower room with a note telling the person who found the glasses to take the case to protect them since I did not need it any more. But, I digress...
Wrapping up the holiday week, we took pleasure in a quiet New Year’s Eve celebration. Being lovers of sci-fi movies, John and I watched Transformers on Blu-Ray DVD, and then switched to the FOX network celebration in Las Vegas. The FOX celebration took place at the Mirage Hotel where we stayed when we were married in Las Vegas. Daughtry and David Cook performed, both of whom I enjoy, which is what made us choose that particular TV party. At midnight, we emerged from the salon up into the cockpit of Island Chariot and reveled in fireworks surrounding us from downtown Miami to South Beach.
The next morning brought us the Tournament of Roses Parade followed by much college football. The highlight of New Year’s Day was watching my alma mater win the Gator Bowl. It has been so long since the Huskers have had a winning team!
Normally, my resolutions, affirmations, and goals for the year ahead would be complete by now. I'm holding over last year's affirmation "I'm feeling energetic and lean weighing 118!" for another year. That's all I have so far. The problem with that goal wrapped in an affirmation is that I'm feeling too energetic and great weighing 128. Anyway, John and I decided that January 1 is an arbitrary date. We agreed to revisit our goals for 2009 and beyond on February 8. No, there is no particular reason for the date.
Today we joined several others at Sunset Harbour Yacht Club in celebrating Clare’s birthday. John met Clare and Steve when he brought our boat home for the first time. Part I of her party included mimosas and danishs at 10AM. Part II is a bar-b-que at 6PM. What a delightful way to spend a beautiful Miami Beach January day!
It is hard to believe our month in Miami Beach is up on Monday. It feels like the time-space continuum has folded. We can’t have been here for 31 days!
Marathon here we come!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
A Snapshot of Life at Sunset Harbour Yacht Club
We had planned to stay at Sunset Harbour Yacht Club for two days, and then continue to Marathon, FL. Two days came and went and we were not ready to leave Miami Beach. In fact, we were enjoying Miami Beach so much we decided to stay for a month. Christmas and New Year’s Day in sunny Miami Beach – Woo hoo!
It’s been over two weeks now. Our website www.islandchariot.com has photos showing some of our activities. Every day I think, “Today, I’ll blog!”, and then I do something else like watch manatees or read a book instead. Every time I finish the books on board someone gives me another or recommends one. Then I can’t wait to get to it. The latest is One Cosmos Under God, by Robert W. Godwin. Awesome!
When we’re not visiting the Parrot Jungle, or having a fabulous dinner out, or exploring the area in the dinghy, or visiting friends in the nearby anchorages (by dinghy), our days are simple. Even the most mundane chores at home on land (e.g., doing the dishes together, …) are special while we’re cruising.
Here is a snapshot of how we spend a day in port in Miami Beach on Island Chariot. We awaken when we’re done sleeping, one of the best parts of staying in one place for a while. John and I enjoy cups of French roast coffee together. Elvis Ann joins us for our second cups. Our breakfast staples are cold cereal, oatmeal, eggs, and pancakes, which we eat in a rotation of sorts. We clean up the galley and the dishes, and then move on to other chores. This morning John is washing the boat. I am coaching clients.
I haven’t heard John in a while, so I peek up through a hatch like a human periscope to see where he is. I spot him polishing the chrome at the bow and admire what great care he takes of Island Chariot. Lunchtime rolls around and I wonder what John would like to eat. I peek out of the hatch again and find John in exactly the same position, hand on the rag and rag on the chrome, but gaze focused across the channel. I look back at Bayou, the mega-yacht behind us. She is listing to port from the weight of the crew polishing the port bow, rags in their hands, but gazes focused across the channel. I follow their gazes. A modeling shoot is happening again across the canal from Island Chariot. Bikini-clad, bronze-skin, ample-breasted girls are posing on the 50-plus-foot Sunseeker. All that posing looks like hard work. Our port-side chrome has never sparkled more brightly. I consider calling across the canal to ask them to finish the shoot on the yacht club side of the canal so our starboard-side chrome could sparkle, too!
After lunch, we don our bathing suits and go for a swim. John brings all of our snorkeling gear so we can “preflight” it in the swimming pool before we take a snorkeling jaunt. We wriggle into our wetsuits, booties, gloves, fins, masks, and snorkels, and then jump into the pool to find treasures on the bottom. All the gear is in fine working order. We doff our gear and continue swimming. Winds from the east make perfect conditions for “croc races”. We retrieve our crocs and hold them against the east side of the pool. John says “ready, set, go” and we release our crocs. (Yes, we were the only ones in the pool that day!) John’s right croc takes an early lead, then turns back toward the east wall. Both of mine start drifting ever so slowly, until they pick up the breeze and go flying across the pool. John’s are still back at the east wall. I am the “croc racing” champion, at least for that day!
We clean up from swimming and do another chore or two – clean Elvis Ann’s cage, oil the bike chains, vacuum the salon, shop at Publix, …
We stop our chores and enjoy a glass of pinot noir in the cockpit as the sun lowers in the sky. We decide to go out for dinner. I say to John, “I want to learn how to meditate.”. He laughs and shakes his head. I say “What?” – you know, that why-are-you-looking-at-me-like-I-have-a fern-for-a-head kind of “what?”. He says I am always working on myself. He asks me why I want to learn to meditate. I tell him it’s because I want to reach spiritual enlightenment. I tell him about the monk whose brain the neurologists scanned. (I love it when science and spirituality collide). His brain did not have the red and yellow spikes that the rest of our noisy brains have. He slipped into a meditative state and his scan showed the cool “blue pearl” in the middle of his brain – the rest was quiet. I explained that people who meditate and achieve spiritual enlightenment experience a blue electricity from the bottom of their spines out their heads, and that each religious tradition has a different name for it. John laughs and tells me that he achieves blue electricity when he eats at Taco Loco. He gets it at the bottom of his spine and must bite down on a cold cloth…
…So my brother calls later that day and we have wonderful conversation about their preparing for Baby. He asks me how it’s going with John and me being no more than 50 feet apart all of the time, especially after so much time apart before John retired from the USMC. I tell him all is well, situation normal.
It’s been over two weeks now. Our website www.islandchariot.com has photos showing some of our activities. Every day I think, “Today, I’ll blog!”, and then I do something else like watch manatees or read a book instead. Every time I finish the books on board someone gives me another or recommends one. Then I can’t wait to get to it. The latest is One Cosmos Under God, by Robert W. Godwin. Awesome!
When we’re not visiting the Parrot Jungle, or having a fabulous dinner out, or exploring the area in the dinghy, or visiting friends in the nearby anchorages (by dinghy), our days are simple. Even the most mundane chores at home on land (e.g., doing the dishes together, …) are special while we’re cruising.
Here is a snapshot of how we spend a day in port in Miami Beach on Island Chariot. We awaken when we’re done sleeping, one of the best parts of staying in one place for a while. John and I enjoy cups of French roast coffee together. Elvis Ann joins us for our second cups. Our breakfast staples are cold cereal, oatmeal, eggs, and pancakes, which we eat in a rotation of sorts. We clean up the galley and the dishes, and then move on to other chores. This morning John is washing the boat. I am coaching clients.
I haven’t heard John in a while, so I peek up through a hatch like a human periscope to see where he is. I spot him polishing the chrome at the bow and admire what great care he takes of Island Chariot. Lunchtime rolls around and I wonder what John would like to eat. I peek out of the hatch again and find John in exactly the same position, hand on the rag and rag on the chrome, but gaze focused across the channel. I look back at Bayou, the mega-yacht behind us. She is listing to port from the weight of the crew polishing the port bow, rags in their hands, but gazes focused across the channel. I follow their gazes. A modeling shoot is happening again across the canal from Island Chariot. Bikini-clad, bronze-skin, ample-breasted girls are posing on the 50-plus-foot Sunseeker. All that posing looks like hard work. Our port-side chrome has never sparkled more brightly. I consider calling across the canal to ask them to finish the shoot on the yacht club side of the canal so our starboard-side chrome could sparkle, too!
After lunch, we don our bathing suits and go for a swim. John brings all of our snorkeling gear so we can “preflight” it in the swimming pool before we take a snorkeling jaunt. We wriggle into our wetsuits, booties, gloves, fins, masks, and snorkels, and then jump into the pool to find treasures on the bottom. All the gear is in fine working order. We doff our gear and continue swimming. Winds from the east make perfect conditions for “croc races”. We retrieve our crocs and hold them against the east side of the pool. John says “ready, set, go” and we release our crocs. (Yes, we were the only ones in the pool that day!) John’s right croc takes an early lead, then turns back toward the east wall. Both of mine start drifting ever so slowly, until they pick up the breeze and go flying across the pool. John’s are still back at the east wall. I am the “croc racing” champion, at least for that day!
We clean up from swimming and do another chore or two – clean Elvis Ann’s cage, oil the bike chains, vacuum the salon, shop at Publix, …
We stop our chores and enjoy a glass of pinot noir in the cockpit as the sun lowers in the sky. We decide to go out for dinner. I say to John, “I want to learn how to meditate.”. He laughs and shakes his head. I say “What?” – you know, that why-are-you-looking-at-me-like-I-have-a fern-for-a-head kind of “what?”. He says I am always working on myself. He asks me why I want to learn to meditate. I tell him it’s because I want to reach spiritual enlightenment. I tell him about the monk whose brain the neurologists scanned. (I love it when science and spirituality collide). His brain did not have the red and yellow spikes that the rest of our noisy brains have. He slipped into a meditative state and his scan showed the cool “blue pearl” in the middle of his brain – the rest was quiet. I explained that people who meditate and achieve spiritual enlightenment experience a blue electricity from the bottom of their spines out their heads, and that each religious tradition has a different name for it. John laughs and tells me that he achieves blue electricity when he eats at Taco Loco. He gets it at the bottom of his spine and must bite down on a cold cloth…
…So my brother calls later that day and we have wonderful conversation about their preparing for Baby. He asks me how it’s going with John and me being no more than 50 feet apart all of the time, especially after so much time apart before John retired from the USMC. I tell him all is well, situation normal.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Hey! This Boat Has Sails!
On Friday, December 5, we felt fulfilled when we unfurled the sails for our first day on the Atlantic Ocean. Finally, Island Chariot had a chance to stretch her legs. We began the day in Vero Beach. At 0700, Bernie was on deck to say goodbye and to assist us with our rafting lines. The previous evening we told him we thought we would leave at 0600. He grinned and let us know that while we were “working on our marriage” he was on deck waiting to see us off. We let loose the lines to Australia 31, released the mooring line, waved to Bernie and closed the chapter on Vero Beach for our southbound cruise.
We sailed out Fort Pierce Inlet by 0900. John entered the Lake Worth Inlet outside buoy as our waypoint in the chart plotter. With winds from the west and seas only two feet, we sat back and let Eric the autopilot do the driving. What a relaxing day compared to life on the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway! The boat rocked gently as we glided across the sea watching the Florida coastline pass. The Gulf Stream is not far offshore from Florida, so we stayed within two miles of the coast. By 1600, we had arrived in Lake Worth (Palm Beach).
Knowing our stay in Lake Worth would be for mere hours, we elected to drop the anchor for the night just beyond channel marker #8. The anchorage was large and although it was full of boats we still found a Chariot-sized spot. At 0230 the next morning we found ourselves awake. At 0400 we decided to have coffee and prepare to weigh anchor. Of course, this meant that John Rahm, human windlass, would be on the job again. (I may have mentioned previously that in addition to waiting on weather we were waiting in Vero Beach for a new switching unit for the windlass. However, when we learned that Lighthouse had not yet sent the item, we decided to continue south and have them send it to us later.) You may have noted the time of day and thought to yourself that the sun does not rise (I know, I know, it’s really the earth rotating…) until 0700 these days. You would be correct. And, the moon had set by 0100. The anchorage was eerily dark and quiet as John pulled up our 60-pound CQR anchor and 50 feet of chain with ease and I drove us into the channel toward the inlet. Eerily quiet that is, until we passed another sailboat at anchor. The captain was preparing to weigh anchor and called out to me asking where we were headed. We had a brief cheery exchange, and then I handed the wheel over to John. Thanks to that friendly man, I was now wide awake and ready to assist John with navigating the inlet back out to sea. As we passed the final inlet buoy and made the turn south along the coast, we heard Muffin on Antares on the VHF announcing their entrance into the inlet and heading out to sea. They were only five minutes behind us. We enjoyed meeting Will and Muffin at the Vero Beach Thanksgiving dinner and had not seen them in the anchorage. We got on the radio and had a brief and cheery conversation with Muffin. They were heading across to the Bahamas. We wished each other smooth sailing.
In the dark of the early morning, all we could hear was the wind in our sails and the slap of the ocean on the Chariot as we gently rocked up and down across the water. Winds were from the west and seas were about two feet. Once again, John entered a waypoint into our chart plotter and Eric the autopilot held the line south toward Miami for us. We sat back and took in the millions of stars sparkling in the sky like diamonds, and the lights dotting the shoreline. At 0630, we began to see light on the horizon. By 0700, rays of sunlight shone through the clouds in the distance. I must have taken 100 pictures as the sun rose. At that moment it felt like one of the more beautiful things I had ever witnessed. The sun seemed bigger and brighter than ever as it emerged from the water. We welcomed the light and the opportunity to see without radar.
After two perfect days on the water, with about 90 minutes left on our journey to Miami Beach, the winds shifted to the south. This meant the winds were right on our nose. Rather than tack back and forth, we took in the genoa (headsail) and ran the engine in order to hold our direct line to the Government Cut (inlet to Miami).
Did I mention that it was Saturday now? At each inlet we passed along the way, fishing boats swarmed like black flies in Georgia. Coming into Miami harbor was crazy! We entered the inlet only to find a container ship fast approaching our stern. John quickly did a 180-degree turn, allowed the ship to pass us, and then slipped in behind the ship. I used the opportunity to take a nice close-up picture of the ship for our website. Large powerboats flew by us at breakneck speeds rocking us like weebles in their rooster-tail wakes. We had definitely crossed a cultural line. No wake management here. Inside the harbor, high-speed powerboats all around made us feel like we were on the Autobahn. We were tossed about like it was Sea State 5. John knew exactly where he was going, which helped our comfort level. We were heading for Sunset Harbour Yacht Club, the place where he picked up the Chariot when we bought her. We pulled smoothly into our slip and settled in for a cold beverage. It was 1600.
Once settled, we noticed how tired we were and how delicious pizza sounded at that moment. Danny, who greeted us at our slip, recommended Pizza Rustica and gave us the telephone number. About an hour later, our pie arrived hot and cheesy, a true Italian-style pizza. Our minds drifted back to the extreme pleasure of eating in Sicily. Who knew that you can get a “thin and chewy” pizza crust in the United States?! We gorged ourselves and went to sleep, miraculously heartburn-free.
We sailed out Fort Pierce Inlet by 0900. John entered the Lake Worth Inlet outside buoy as our waypoint in the chart plotter. With winds from the west and seas only two feet, we sat back and let Eric the autopilot do the driving. What a relaxing day compared to life on the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway! The boat rocked gently as we glided across the sea watching the Florida coastline pass. The Gulf Stream is not far offshore from Florida, so we stayed within two miles of the coast. By 1600, we had arrived in Lake Worth (Palm Beach).
Knowing our stay in Lake Worth would be for mere hours, we elected to drop the anchor for the night just beyond channel marker #8. The anchorage was large and although it was full of boats we still found a Chariot-sized spot. At 0230 the next morning we found ourselves awake. At 0400 we decided to have coffee and prepare to weigh anchor. Of course, this meant that John Rahm, human windlass, would be on the job again. (I may have mentioned previously that in addition to waiting on weather we were waiting in Vero Beach for a new switching unit for the windlass. However, when we learned that Lighthouse had not yet sent the item, we decided to continue south and have them send it to us later.) You may have noted the time of day and thought to yourself that the sun does not rise (I know, I know, it’s really the earth rotating…) until 0700 these days. You would be correct. And, the moon had set by 0100. The anchorage was eerily dark and quiet as John pulled up our 60-pound CQR anchor and 50 feet of chain with ease and I drove us into the channel toward the inlet. Eerily quiet that is, until we passed another sailboat at anchor. The captain was preparing to weigh anchor and called out to me asking where we were headed. We had a brief cheery exchange, and then I handed the wheel over to John. Thanks to that friendly man, I was now wide awake and ready to assist John with navigating the inlet back out to sea. As we passed the final inlet buoy and made the turn south along the coast, we heard Muffin on Antares on the VHF announcing their entrance into the inlet and heading out to sea. They were only five minutes behind us. We enjoyed meeting Will and Muffin at the Vero Beach Thanksgiving dinner and had not seen them in the anchorage. We got on the radio and had a brief and cheery conversation with Muffin. They were heading across to the Bahamas. We wished each other smooth sailing.
In the dark of the early morning, all we could hear was the wind in our sails and the slap of the ocean on the Chariot as we gently rocked up and down across the water. Winds were from the west and seas were about two feet. Once again, John entered a waypoint into our chart plotter and Eric the autopilot held the line south toward Miami for us. We sat back and took in the millions of stars sparkling in the sky like diamonds, and the lights dotting the shoreline. At 0630, we began to see light on the horizon. By 0700, rays of sunlight shone through the clouds in the distance. I must have taken 100 pictures as the sun rose. At that moment it felt like one of the more beautiful things I had ever witnessed. The sun seemed bigger and brighter than ever as it emerged from the water. We welcomed the light and the opportunity to see without radar.
After two perfect days on the water, with about 90 minutes left on our journey to Miami Beach, the winds shifted to the south. This meant the winds were right on our nose. Rather than tack back and forth, we took in the genoa (headsail) and ran the engine in order to hold our direct line to the Government Cut (inlet to Miami).
Did I mention that it was Saturday now? At each inlet we passed along the way, fishing boats swarmed like black flies in Georgia. Coming into Miami harbor was crazy! We entered the inlet only to find a container ship fast approaching our stern. John quickly did a 180-degree turn, allowed the ship to pass us, and then slipped in behind the ship. I used the opportunity to take a nice close-up picture of the ship for our website. Large powerboats flew by us at breakneck speeds rocking us like weebles in their rooster-tail wakes. We had definitely crossed a cultural line. No wake management here. Inside the harbor, high-speed powerboats all around made us feel like we were on the Autobahn. We were tossed about like it was Sea State 5. John knew exactly where he was going, which helped our comfort level. We were heading for Sunset Harbour Yacht Club, the place where he picked up the Chariot when we bought her. We pulled smoothly into our slip and settled in for a cold beverage. It was 1600.
Once settled, we noticed how tired we were and how delicious pizza sounded at that moment. Danny, who greeted us at our slip, recommended Pizza Rustica and gave us the telephone number. About an hour later, our pie arrived hot and cheesy, a true Italian-style pizza. Our minds drifted back to the extreme pleasure of eating in Sicily. Who knew that you can get a “thin and chewy” pizza crust in the United States?! We gorged ourselves and went to sleep, miraculously heartburn-free.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Australia 31
Our final three days in Vero Beach were amazing, mostly because we were rafted on our mooring to Bernie and Yvonne Katchor. Bernie and Yvonne are Australian and have been cruising on a shoestring for about 45 years. Their boat, Australia 31, is the floating crossroads for ingenuity and economy. I cannot remember the last time I met two such charismatic people. What makes them so special is that they like people. As they explore countries around the world, they genuinely enjoy the people they meet. In fact, Bernie was moved to write Around the Next Bend, a book about their experiences with the people of Guyana and Venezuela. People are more important than anything else.
Perhaps this story will illustrate my point. Bernie and Yvonne needed to have their engine propeller balanced. Their original propeller was stolen in Venezuela five years earlier when their boat was stripped at a boatyard there. When telling the story they are matter of fact and express their good fortune at not being on board at the time. Others had been shot in the knees for resisting such intruders. For the past five years, they have been cruising with a make-shift propeller they were able to find and cut down to size so they could leave Venezuela. Now the propeller needed to be balanced at the very least. Bernie, at age 67, was not about to let someone charge him a fortune to do the simple job of removing the propeller. So, he donned his short-sleeved, short-legged wet suit and climbed down into the 65-degree water. John assisted him, mostly by watching for Bernie’s bubbles. Bernie had a bucket full of tools attached to a rope and in the water with him – a 49-cent WalMart-special type of bucket, plastic with a thin metal handle and about five years on it. As Bernie handed the bucket up to John, John grabbed the rope and the handle promptly separated from the bucket sending the bucket and tools straight to the bottom. John was crushed. Bernie had a lead line ready and dropped it into the water where the bucket fell so it would be easier to find the bucket again later as our boats moved around the mooring. Having removed the propeller, Bernie climbed back onto his boat, shivering and blue from being in the cold water for 30 minutes. If he was upset about the tools we did not know it. The next day he went back in the water to find the tools. He marked a line every three feet and swam in a circle feeling around on the bottom. The water was too murky to see. About nine feet from the lead line, he found the tools all in the bucket on the bottom. A lot of people would have been upset either in general or at John, thinking about the potential cost to replace all of those tools. A propeller puller alone could cost $75. Not Bernie and Yvonne. John was more important than the tools. These things happen sometimes - just another daily episode in the challenges of cruising. This was another fine example of it’s not what happens to you it’s how you handle it.
Later that evening, Bernie and Yvonne invited us to dinner on their boat so we could meet some of their friends who live in Vero Beach. Many cruisers settle in Vero Beach when they are ready to trade their sailboats for watching the grandkids, reading the paper, and walking the dog. They call themselves Cruisers Living on Dirt (CLODs) and meet for breakfast on Wednesday mornings.
During dinner, we learned the fine art of eating delicacies aboard. Did you know that all seaweed is edible? We were treated to dulse, a purple, salty sea lettuce. Eating it raw is like eating beef jerky. Bernie likes it better toasted, so he pulled out a blow-torch style lighter and roasted it like a marshmallow. We agree. Seaweed is definitely better toasted. We also learned that mushrooms we find can be edible. Bernie and Yvonne asked a park ranger if the ones growing in that particular park were the edible kind. He was not sure. They might be, or they might be the kind that look like the edible kind, but are toxic. So, Bernie ate one to find out. After 24 hours when he did not get sick, those mushrooms became part of their diet. Bernie thought the dogs in the park were what gave the mushrooms their rich flavor.
In addition to meeting former cruisers, through Bernie and Yvonne we met fellow first-time cruisers John and Elle. For a night they rafted up on our other side. Everyone came to dinner on Island Chariot. What fun! Bernie and Yvonne shared stories of the beaches in different cultures. In other parts of the world, people are more relaxed about their bodies. Nude beaches are commonplace. Bernie expressed that he had gained a bit of weight and was having trouble seeing “over the horizon”. With a grin he reported that he had to ask Yvonne – “Yvonne, am I naked?”.
Bernie and Yvonne are rich in every way that matters. When it comes to stuff, they do not have much, yet share everything they have. What a wonderful place this world would be if, like the Katchors, we all saw the world through the eyes of our hearts instead of the eyes in our heads.
Perhaps this story will illustrate my point. Bernie and Yvonne needed to have their engine propeller balanced. Their original propeller was stolen in Venezuela five years earlier when their boat was stripped at a boatyard there. When telling the story they are matter of fact and express their good fortune at not being on board at the time. Others had been shot in the knees for resisting such intruders. For the past five years, they have been cruising with a make-shift propeller they were able to find and cut down to size so they could leave Venezuela. Now the propeller needed to be balanced at the very least. Bernie, at age 67, was not about to let someone charge him a fortune to do the simple job of removing the propeller. So, he donned his short-sleeved, short-legged wet suit and climbed down into the 65-degree water. John assisted him, mostly by watching for Bernie’s bubbles. Bernie had a bucket full of tools attached to a rope and in the water with him – a 49-cent WalMart-special type of bucket, plastic with a thin metal handle and about five years on it. As Bernie handed the bucket up to John, John grabbed the rope and the handle promptly separated from the bucket sending the bucket and tools straight to the bottom. John was crushed. Bernie had a lead line ready and dropped it into the water where the bucket fell so it would be easier to find the bucket again later as our boats moved around the mooring. Having removed the propeller, Bernie climbed back onto his boat, shivering and blue from being in the cold water for 30 minutes. If he was upset about the tools we did not know it. The next day he went back in the water to find the tools. He marked a line every three feet and swam in a circle feeling around on the bottom. The water was too murky to see. About nine feet from the lead line, he found the tools all in the bucket on the bottom. A lot of people would have been upset either in general or at John, thinking about the potential cost to replace all of those tools. A propeller puller alone could cost $75. Not Bernie and Yvonne. John was more important than the tools. These things happen sometimes - just another daily episode in the challenges of cruising. This was another fine example of it’s not what happens to you it’s how you handle it.
Later that evening, Bernie and Yvonne invited us to dinner on their boat so we could meet some of their friends who live in Vero Beach. Many cruisers settle in Vero Beach when they are ready to trade their sailboats for watching the grandkids, reading the paper, and walking the dog. They call themselves Cruisers Living on Dirt (CLODs) and meet for breakfast on Wednesday mornings.
During dinner, we learned the fine art of eating delicacies aboard. Did you know that all seaweed is edible? We were treated to dulse, a purple, salty sea lettuce. Eating it raw is like eating beef jerky. Bernie likes it better toasted, so he pulled out a blow-torch style lighter and roasted it like a marshmallow. We agree. Seaweed is definitely better toasted. We also learned that mushrooms we find can be edible. Bernie and Yvonne asked a park ranger if the ones growing in that particular park were the edible kind. He was not sure. They might be, or they might be the kind that look like the edible kind, but are toxic. So, Bernie ate one to find out. After 24 hours when he did not get sick, those mushrooms became part of their diet. Bernie thought the dogs in the park were what gave the mushrooms their rich flavor.
In addition to meeting former cruisers, through Bernie and Yvonne we met fellow first-time cruisers John and Elle. For a night they rafted up on our other side. Everyone came to dinner on Island Chariot. What fun! Bernie and Yvonne shared stories of the beaches in different cultures. In other parts of the world, people are more relaxed about their bodies. Nude beaches are commonplace. Bernie expressed that he had gained a bit of weight and was having trouble seeing “over the horizon”. With a grin he reported that he had to ask Yvonne – “Yvonne, am I naked?”.
Bernie and Yvonne are rich in every way that matters. When it comes to stuff, they do not have much, yet share everything they have. What a wonderful place this world would be if, like the Katchors, we all saw the world through the eyes of our hearts instead of the eyes in our heads.
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