Indulging in a Few Cold Ones after a Delightful Day of Sailing...

My sail from Gilbert's Dockside Tiki Hut on Blackwater Sound and later on through Tarpon Basin, Buttonwood Sound, Cotton Key Basin, Steamboat Channel, Lingnumvitue Basin and then on down to Channel Five was as my lady-friend often likes to say, "NBD"...

"NBD" as in "No Big Deal"... which when I come to think about it is but one of many acronyms that she likes to throw out at me in conversation, thus leaving me momentarily scraching my head. For now however I'll just set aside all those acronyms and let them be a topic for some other day.

In hindsight that day three sail was rather uneventful if I were to tell the truth. The weather was most delightful with bright blue skies and water to match. Even more importantly, winds were steady yet easy.

And you certainly won't ever hear me complaining of not having anything more than easy, steady winds because I for one like to sail by the motto, "No Strain, No Pain"... and if you ever hear of a cruiser boasting otherwise then please know that these kind are the first to drop the sails and crank up the motor at the first sign of unfavorable winds.

There were of course the usual power boaters zipping by not to mention the occassional sailing vessel rumbling on past, but all in all that half day sail was as easy as it gets.

Well the sun was already past the yardarm when I dropped a hook just south of Lower Matecumbe Key near Channel Five. I'd explain what a yardarm is but I'm not really sure that I know what one is without first going online and consulting Wikipedia.

But what I do happen to know is that whenever my lady-friend utters the comment, "The sun is past the yardarm", then it's okay to break out a cold brewski.

So off I went in the dinghy in search of that ultimate, ever-so-elusive, hedonistic dockside bar that I've still yet to find. I did eventually come across Caloosa Cove Marina and its air-conditioned dockside tiki-hut... a most inviting bar & grill with plenty of cold beer and an enthralling ocean view to die for.

However this discovery didn't happen but until after a false start when I unwittingly came upon a private marina, a fact that was immediately and emphatically pointed out to me by the on-duty dockmaster.

In but an instant I was turned away like an unwelcomed rodent and sent off in another direction after it was summarily explained to me that the marina was for the exclusive use of the Boy Scouts of America.

Dude... yeah you dockmaster. I can assure you that that private marina, reserved for the exclusive use of the BSOA, is the last place that I'd want to hang out at after a day of sailing.

Besides, I'm well aware of the tawdry news headlines that pop up from time to time insofar as your organization is concerned and the very last thing that I want to do is have my character impuned by even being remotely associated with it.

(Memo to Self: Next time consult your "Visual Cruising Guide to the Florida Keys" before going ashore.)

Sailing the Intercoastal Waterway... Day Three.

Early morning Day Three found me eagerly wanting to raise sails and get on down the road but not before brewing a pot of coffee.

I'd already blown off the previous day loitering at Gilbert's Dockside Bar and doing little more than sipping on cold Heinekens while hoping an attractive female patron might perhaps show up and want to engage in a bit of conversation.

Unfortunately the few female patrons that did show up at that dockside bar all had a companion so I had little compelling reason to blow off yet another day at that bar and not get back under way.

So with a large mug of coffee awaiting me in the cockpit, I expediently raised the main, pulled up the anchor, unfurled the jib, and just like that S/V Blondie-Dog was swiftly sailing across Blackwater Sound and on towards her first distant channel marker.

There's plenty of depth in the water and it wasn't long before I spot my channel marker with the aid of binoculars. Before long I'm cranking up the outboard mounted on the stern of the boat and motoring on through Dusenbury Creek.

It's a relief of sorts to eventually emerge on the other side of that creek and out from the confines of the mangrove. Winds are out of the SSE and I shut that loud and obnoxious outboard motor down as soon as the sails fill up upon the boat making a westerly turn.

There is still a narrow channel to negotiate with red and green markers straddling the channel... all in close proximity of one another. Steady winds nevertheless make it easy to readily sail on through that channel.

It's not long before I'm once again having to crank up the outboard and motor on through yet another set of mangroves. Grouper Creek later dumps me out of its surrounding mangroves.

I'm on a sailboat and emphatically shut the motor down yet once again upon emerging from those mangroves. The sheer joy of simple sailing sets in yet again when the sails fill and the boat lurches forward. Soon enough, Buttonwood Sound is but an afterthought.

Sunset Cove, where I'd previously spent a few weeks at anchor back in early spring, is readily visible off my port beam. Nevertheless I'm not feeling any warm fuzzies as Blondie methodically sails on past.

Key Largo is decidedly enough a decent tourist destination but it definitely isn't all that cruiser friendly on the intercoastal side. Going ashore in one's dinghy is problematic to say the least. In any event I'll keep any forthcoming commentary on that matter in my hip pocket for the time being.

For now I'll simply state that part of the cruising experience is sometimes having to put up with unduly being made to feel like an unwelcomed rodent.

Blondie-Dog subsequently sails on through Baker's Cut going from one channel marker to the next. Somehow those channel markers have me thinking of a football field goal post and feeling as if I were Mike Vanderjagt successfully splitting the uprights on every attempt... as least when he wasn't kicking for the Cowboys.

But what the heck, Vandy's, his pizza restaurant on Marco Island, has great ambiance, serves decent food and has plenty of cold beer... so don't count on me harboring any lingering hard feelings about his short and uninspired stint with the Dallas Cowboys.

Four or five hours of sailing is pretty much my limit for any one day not withstanding cruising some of the most pristine blue waters to be found.

Soon thereafter I'm dropping the sails and setting a hook off of Channel Five located on the southern end of Lower Matecumbe Key.

Before long I mount my two-stroke outboard motor onto my dinghy and go off in search of a few cold ones at that ever-so-elusive, hedonistic dockside bar that I've yet to discover.

What can I say other than I aint's delivering a boat and I'll drop a hook when and where I please.

Cruising On Down the Intercoastal ... Day Two.

Not that anyone gives a rat's ass but day two of my sailing excursion found me loitering the day away at Gilbert's Dock Side Bar on the southern end of Jewfish Creek.

So yeah... after sailing ten hours and after baking in the hot sun the previous day, I elected to crank up my outboard and motor on through Jewfish Creek the next morning and later drop a hook on the other side in Blackwater Sound. That short stint couldn't have lasted but an hour or so at the most.

Incidentally, if you might perchance ever happen to hear a "so-called sailor" pompously claiming to have "motor-sailed" from one destination to another, whether it be from Cuba or wherever, then please understand that what they really did was but turn on their diesel-engine and motor the entire way.

These "so-called sailors" are frauds and are decidedly worse than power-boaters... and if you should happen to be sailing in light winds, you will most assuredly recognize these frauds for they will be the first to swiftly motor on past, while their sails securely remain under wraps, and calling out, "Looks like you lost your wind there skipper"!

... to which you might you want to respond... "Put Your Sails Up P-Word"! ... But I digress...

Gilbert's Dockside Bar did indeed have quite a number of cold Heinekens in the cooler as I can well attest to and I can assure you that the Philly Cheese Steak sandwich was decidedly edible as well.

All in all, day two was okay but nothing memorable... as in there were no hot babes to be seen loitering about the bar that particular day.