Pulling Up Anchors and Heading Back Down to Marathon...

I'd like to sit here and tell ya that my sail from Channel Five on down to Marathon was an enthralling experience but it really wasn't.

Not that there was anything wrong with it but my sail was by no means one of those delightful sails that will forever stick in one's mind. That five hour or so long sail certainly didn't feel adventuresome or even sporting.

If anything that sail was just pleasant. Yeah... pleasant as in nice but not great... no more and no less. There were no early morning moments of quiet elation upon pulling up the anchor or upon the sails filling as the boat got underway.

Nor were there any subsequent moments of particular concern. I don't recall even having to crank up the outboard motor to negotiate any narrow channels. The weather that particular day was delightful and winds were just fine. But I'm certainly not complaining. Pleasant can indeed be good.

So after indulging in a few cold beverages the previous day at the Caloosa Harbor Marina, I simply elected not to sail out under the bridge and on out onto the ocean side of the Keys the following morning as originally intended.

All those Heinekens that I had sipped on the previous day might have had something to do with my last minute change in plans but for now I'll simply state that I was concerned with the weather... as in concerned about a random storm suddenly popping up and blowing on through while Blondie-Dog towed an inflated dinghy behind her.

Among the last things that one needs to happen while underway is to have one's inflatable dinghy to go airborne if a blow were to kick up. Either that or have one's inflatable doll... oh never mind... I strayed off topic there for a moment. Sorry.

So after brewing a pot of coffee and after ingesting a few Tylanol, I continued on down the Intercoastal side of the Keys thereby allowing me the option to drop an anchor on a whim should I elect to take a much needed nap along the way.

Before long Blondie is giving Jewfish Bush Banks a wide berth then leaving Old Sweet Bank on her port and subsequently splitting the uprights at Channel Key Pass before eventually dropping an anchor off of the Keys Drinkeries Tiki Hut in Marathon.

The holding at that anchorage is iffy at best but that elevated Tiki Hut certainly did have copious amounts of cold beer in the cooler. In any event that cooler certainly had more beer than even I would care to sip on in any one evening.

Not only was the beer nice and cold at that elevated Tiki Hut but I could also see Blondie-Dog at anchor from my vantage point. From there I could readily see whether she might be dragging her anchor and floating off to Cape Sable or perhaps elsewhere.

I'd pull up anchor first thing the next morning and sail out under the Seven Mile Bridge the next day and later anchor in Boot Key Harbor for a day or so before continuing on my way to Key West.

It also goes without saying that dropping a hook on a whim's notice along the ocean side of the Keys certainly wouldn't have been an option because of the depth of the water but ya'll already knew that.

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.

Setting Sail and Key West Bound... Day One...

Living aboard a boat by oneself can most certainly become somewhat monotonous after a while and can be especially true if one happens to stay in any one place for too long.

It's simply just too easy to grab a mooring ball or drop an anchor somewhere in the confines of an anchorage and simply not venture off anywhere for weeks on end.

And while Coconut Grove and all its upscale business establishments is conveniently located within walking distance of Dinner Key Harbor, it is nevertheless but another busy tourist destination in Miami.

The monotony of it all can set in after awhile and have one yearning for a change of scenery if nothing else. Consequently I finally resolved to heed a bit of advise posted on a Cruiser's Forum message board and set sail for a new destination.

It felt good to unleash Blondie-Dog from her mooring and sail on out away from Dinner Key Harbor. The feeling was most liberating and it felt good to be finally sailing in earnest again.

Light winds made for little initial progress but once the winds picked up, S/V Blondie-Dog was swiftly gliding over the pristine blue waters of Biscayne Bay.

I had initially intended to anchor off of Elliott Key for the evening but elected to continue my swift sail and drop a hook off the entrance to Jewfish Creek. I'd negotiate that narrow channel in daylight the next morning.

All in all it was ten hours of blissful sailing... well at least the last eight of them anyway. The only downside to day one was while at anchor that evening. Blondie-Dog was anchored downwind of mosquito infested mangroves and it goes without saying that I involuntarily donated a pint of blood.

My first clue that those mangroves were infested with mosquitoes should have been while under sail. A helicopter could repeatedly be seen swooping down upon the mangroves as if it were on a combat mission in a jungle somewhere. That chopper might have been spraying DDT or Agent Orange for all I know.

A recently purchased mosquito netting did nevertheless help keep some of the mosquitoes away. The No-See Ums were however another matter and had no problem finding their way in through the mosquito netting mesh.

I'd also like to think that the mosquito repelling coils that I had burning in the cabin had some effect in chasing the No-See Ums away but all it seemed to do was to scent up the boat's cabin as if it were an early Seventies head-shop.

All in all, day one was a most enjoyable day of sailing.

Sailing the Intercoastal and not feeling any magic...

Sailing from Key Largo along the Intercoastal and on up to Miami left me feeling somewhat flat and not feeling the same magic that I once experienced while sailing these same waters some twenty-some years ago while aboard S/V BratCat.

For whatever reason all I could think about was of making the most of every whiff of air to fill the sails and of scurrying on up to Miami all in two days. This two day sail felt more like a boat delivery if the truth be told.

Somehow all I felt was a small measure of satisfaction and of relief after having successfully negotiated the shallow channel waters and of not running aground. There simply was little magic this time around... all of which has me thinking of the joyful exhilaration that I experienced when previously sailing these same waters long ago.

Among my more memorable memories when previously sailing the Intercoastal was of anchoring off in Card Sound and later going ashore along with my then wife, for a delightful plate of crab cakes and cold beer at Alabama Jacks.

This previously quaint dockside bar & grill is still there but is now obscured from the sound by overgrown mangroves. The place has been expanded somewhat to accommodate larger crowds yet now seems to mostly cater to old disgruntled bikers of all things. Alabama Jacks no longer seems to possess the charm that it once did.

Another vivid memory when previously sailing the Intercoastal happened later that same evening when two jet fighters, evidently on a training mission from Homestead AFB, could be seen and heard flying low over the water and then screaming straight up into the night sky with their afterburners glowing bright orange.

S/V BratCat may well have unwittingly been a training mission target for all I know. Every halyard on that boat seemed to continue rattling for a good thirty minutes afterwards. Even the barnacles that had been steadfastly clinging onto the bottom of her hull all chose to release their tight grip after those two jets went vertical directly above the mast.

In any event there simply were no memorable moments this time around. Then yet again there were but I simply didn't notice any for lack of having a companion aboard to share in the experience.



The top image is of me aboard S/V BratCat coming upon a channel marker somewhere along the Intercoastal.

Bad Karma aboard S/V Blondie-Dog...

Among the advantages of having anchored in Boot Key Harbor, Marathon was the option of tuning in the VHF radio in the mornings to listen in on the Cruiser's Net.

...and for the uninitiated, the Net is a forum of sorts broadcasted on channel 68 and conducted by the City Marina. Cruisers can chime in with announcements of their own on this forum while being advised of upcoming social events and of other matters concerning the boating community.

In contrast, Dinner Key City Marina here in Coconut Grove does not offer such an amenity... possibly because there isn't a compelling need for one since most boat owners seem to reside off of their boats here in the harbor.

However the forum could get somewhat redundant after awhile with the same generic announcements being made day in and day out. It was easy to simply tune out after but a few days of listening in and not feel any less informed.

Besides there was always the Tiki-Hut as well as the Tree-of-Knowledge that one could hang out at while sipping on a few beers if one were really intent on getting clued in on what was going on throughout the harbor.

Nevertheless I did happen to tune in one morning and listen in on the commentary for whatever compelling reason and it was while listening that a fellow cruiser came on the radio advising fellow boaters to be aware of being overcharged when making purchases at a nearby general store popular among boaters.

Well that deliberate and measured commentary by a fellow cruiser got my attention and then got me to thinking of prior occasions when I too had felt overcharged after making a few purchases of my own while at that store.

Sure enough I was overcharged on two subsequent trips to the store but at least had the presence of mind to request that my purchases be tallied again before forking over payment. It was just too easy for the cashier to ring up a few extra purchases without the customer knowing any better.

The irony of it all is that throughout the store are signs posted advising customers that shoplifters will be summarily arrested and sent off to jail. Also posted throughout the store are a number of signs suggesting that customers smile for the security cameras as they scrutinize one's every move throughout the store.

Well it happened to be the very morning of my departure from my mooring ball in Boot Key Harbor when I decided to make a quick trek on over to the store and purchase a few essentials before taking off.

Sure enough I was overcharged yet once again only this time I happened to be in too much of a hurry to set sail and completely forgot about double-checking my receipt before paying.

My purchases had initially tallied just short of the ten dollar debit card minimum and while scrambling to a pick another item off the shelf, I got hit for another fictitious purchase. It was indeed an incidental amount rung up as "MISC $4.99" but it still hacked me off nonetheless.

It was only after I had trekked more than half way back to the marina that it dawned on me that I just might have been overcharged. Sure enough I had been indeed overcharged not by just one item but two.

Needless to say I was quite tempted to trek on back to the store to make a point and complain. However I had other immediate priorities such as setting sail before the day got away from me so instead I simply stewed over the matter.

Besides, I'd already left the store some fifteen or so minutes earlier. I should have emphatically double-checked my receipt and griped before paying no matter how long the line waiting behind me might have been.

So that in effect is how I spent my first day of sailing after taking off from Boot Key Harbor. I was relieved to have finally broken away from all the "noise" in that harbor and yet found myself fretting about a lousy $5.99 in overcharges.

(Hey geezer... you know who you are... I couldn't help but notice you tagging behind my ass throughout the entire store after I responded to an incoming call on my cell phone... What were you thinking?... that I was perhaps intent on stuffing a ten pound bag of ice in my hip pocket??

I would have preferred to take the call outside but the road noise simply made it too hard to hear. Go smoke another pack of cigarettes and go croak for all I care. How's that for bad karma?)

Memo to fellow boaters listening in on the Cruiser's Net... while patronizing this store, be sure to count not just the total number of items you wish to purchase before approaching the cash register but also be sure to count both the taxable and non-taxable items as well. It will make any overcharges that more readily identifiable.

Also guys... don't fall the cashier's ploy when she pauses a moment to rub her neck and complain about a neck pain... it's but a ploy to distract you as she rings up yet another fictitious purchase.

In any event I've used up the last last of my bad-karma plastic bags for disposing of my garbage aboard my boat. That should be the last of an unpleasant reminder.

It also occurs to me that anybody who thinks that live-aboard cruisers are somehow enlightened and impervious to mundane irritations and crap are misguided.

On a ball... Boot Key Harbor

 

I slept quite soundly throughout the night after indulging in a meal of Vigo Seasoned Rice and a tin of Lean Hormel Smoked Ham. It is now eight in the morning or so and the cabin is a complete mess.

I've got a plastic bag full of dirty dishes that needs to be washed. I had expediently collected the dirty dishes in the bag just to make some surface room in the galley the previous evening.

A plastic spray bottle containing undiluted bleach has tipped over and leaked all over the cabin floor but not before being partially soaked up by a mesh bag containing my dirty laundry. I've now inadvertently got what appear to be a number of unsightly tie-dyed black t-shirts...

A mesh bag full of dirty laundry needs to be taken ashore and laundered but is presently completely soaked with sea-spray and now weighs more than any one of my anchors...

My two gallon plastic shower bag that I had previously filled with water with the intent of setting up on deck in the sun to heat up had slid off the seat cushion in the cabin and spilled all over the cabin floor and into the bilge...

The V-Berth and all the bedding and stuff is completely soaked with sea-spray that had entered through an open porthole while under sail...

My tool bag is soaked from all the sea-spray and all the various screwdrivers and wrenches and whatever are now coated in a film of rust...

The bilge is virtually filled with water and needs to be emptied...

The inflatable dinghy needs to be brought up on deck and inflated... and the list goes on for awhile.

While gazing throughout the cabin and taking a mental inventory of all the things needing to be done, it occurs to me that first things must come first and so I brew a pot of coffee.

There are few things like coffee to get you going in the morning and as the cabin fills with the aroma of fresh brewing coffee, I turn the radio on to hear whats going on here in the Middle Keys.

I come across a radio program with the host chatting it up with local personalities and call-in listeners to discuss charter fishing, the local economy, and what impact the lessening of travel restrictions to Cuba might have on the tourist industry here in Marathon. I find the program entertaining enough and even enjoy the radio commercials for a change.

While sipping on my coffee, I start with the dirty dishes... a mundane task for sure but one that needs to be done. I am at least standing in one place while sipping on my cup of strong aromatic Puertorican coffee.

And so it goes... I take on one task after another and to my pleasant surprise the boat starts to look habitable once again. I even took the time to rinse my tools in fresh water and later wipe off the rust that had accumulated on these and later liberally spray WD-40 all over them and throughout the inside of the tool bag.

I later get a Tupperware dish and scoop out all the water in the bilge and soon enough am drying it out with a dish towel and spraying bleach on the bilge surfaces.

I am reminded of the time when a container of penne pasta had spilled out while under a prior sail and somehow found its way into the bilge and how I couldn't be bothered at the time to clean the bilge and how the pasta later fermented into a gawd awful stench and paste... it was a lesson learned.

The skies seem to want to clear up yet the winds continue to gust out of the east. There is the occasional thunderhead cloud rolling through and dumping more rain though.

I've done all that I could onboard the boat for now and what remains to be done is to inflate the dinghy and row ashore with my dirty laundry and sign in at the Marina offices.

I spread the dinghy out on the foredeck for the purpose of inflating the thing when I discover to my dismay that one of the pontoons has an air leak in it somewhere. I hear a hissing noise and find the puncture hole and it occurs to me that one of the cutlery knives that had fallen over while under sail must have somehow pierced the rubber inflatable.

I'm now wishing that I had purchased a low maintenance kayak instead. Nevertheless I inflate the dinghy as best I can and take my air-pump and mesh-bag of dirty laundry along with me to shore. After checking in, showering and doing two loads of laundry I hike a mile or so down the road to a local marine store for the purpose of purchasing a patch for the inflatable.

I'm shocked at the 67 dollar sticker price for the special patch kit so I purchase some generic all-purpose patch and glue for some six bucks or so and hope for the best. I am later fortunate that the patch does indeed stop the pontoon from leaking air.

Meanwhile the damned wind continues to blow hard out of the east and I later have a difficult time rowing that inflatable back to the boat. I am fortunate that a fellow boater offers me a tow to my boat. What the hell... my boat was just recently towed so why not the inflatable as well.