360 Water View

December 26-31, 2019 – (OK, so I have recently been shamed for having my most recent post with a Christmas tree… We took our Christmas lights down, but sorry that the post makes us look like ‘that guy’ on your block who leaves his up until Easter. It’s just that after arriving in the Keys, the ‘laid back vibe’ caught us in its clutches…..herewith my catch-up begins)

We had stayed in Cape Coral for a spell, tied up at a dock right behind our TxAu friends’ house. The best conditions for wind and tide happened to coincide on Christmas Day, so we pulled out of the canal in late afternoon, and went a short distance back to an anchorage we had been to before.

We then went over to Pink Shell Resort Marina, on Fort Myers Beach; originally, we had planned to spend four days there, leading up to and including Christmas, but the weather conditions were just too unsuitable. We enjoyed the pools, which were just a short walk from the beach, and gave the boat a good washing. There was quite a lot of traffic, on the day after Christmas, and we were surprised to see the Key West Express ferry pass right by our slip. This high-speed catamaran ferry runs a couple times a day between Ft Myers Beach and Key West, and sports inside and outside areas, on-board bar, and a much quicker transit (3.5 hours) than by car (5.5 hrs).

When we left Ft Myers Beach, we went out Matanzas Pass into the Gulf of Mexico. Travel from here to the Keys would be ‘on the outside’, not in the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway. That means no navigation markers and much greater exposure to wind and swells. The first day was terrific, with sunny skies and nice seas. We headed back in toward Marco Island, at xx Pass, where the holiday weekend boating frenzy was in full force. We had planned to work our way up a couple interior canals to an interior anchorage, but found a giant work barge moored against a bulkhead there, leaving just a tiny open channel to pass. Ummm, nope. Time for Plan B.

We had noted another anchorage up around the corner, named Factory Bay, so on we went. It turned out to be quite a nice anchorage, looking at some pricey waterfront homes, and a convenient spot to dinghy to a restaurant, the beach, and the grocery store (that had a dinghy dock, to tie up at while shopping)

The next day, we took the dinghy around to the beach, going up the cut between Coconut Island and the beach on the main part of the island. There were some areas closed off as bird nesting areas, but Chantale found a good place to lay out, while Ben walked the beach to see what shells could be found.

We saw some cigarette boats come roaring by, complete with helicopter flying low and sideways filming the action. They all turned into the pass, and as it turns out, all to a marina/restaurant near the grocery store that we went to later. As we finished up, and were making our way back out (from Point A, on the satellite shot above) they were all leaving the marina, and were were in the middle of a literal boat parade. As it was a no-wake zone, we were all going slow, but here’s a shot of a couple that were nearest us – that’s 1200 hp on our left (4×400 outboards) and who knows how many HP in the red boat on our right. And us with 15 hp on the dinghy, feeling just a bit out of place…

We enjoyed another fabulous sunset, showing a sailboat anchored near us, and some of the waterfront buildings.

The next day we headed onward, for the long 101 miles to Marathon, in the lower keys. As that would have made a long day, and put us entering a strange harbor in fading light, we decided instead to use a common anchorage about 60 miles on, in the Little Shark River. The whole of the trip past the Florida mainland after Marco Island is the Everglades, with little to no civilization evident along the shoreline. Our cellular coverage faded to nil, and we were really out in the boonies as we pulled up the river to find a spot to safely anchor. There were actually a few other boats there, and as we circled the sailboat in the drizzly afternoon, the people were waving their arms and yelling. (What the…???)

It turns out it was Polaris, a sailboat doing the Loop that we had first met in Grand Haven, MI, and then crossed paths with again in Saugatuck, Chicago, the Florida Panhandle, during the Gulf Cossing, and in Pelican Bay at Coya Costa.

We headed out at first light the next day, to make the last 45 miles to the Keys. We had a nice escort a few times, as we weaved our way through thousands of crab-trap floats on the way to the 7-Mile Bridge.

All the way from Little Shark River, we never saw depths of more than 15 feet, and much of it was single digit. We had to be attentive as we made our way down the Moser Channel to cross under the 7-mile bridge, and saw some of our shallowest water of the trip as we followed the markers.

The color, and complexion, of the water changed as soon as we cross under the bridge. A bit more rolly, and lots of fisherman transiting the entrance to Boot Key Harbor. It was quite a scene to pull in and see the number of boats moored here (almost 300 city-administered moorings, plus people anchored around the fringes. Not to mention the marinas…)

We got situated in our slip at Sombrero Marina; from our front deck, facing a mangrove island and looking out into Boot Key Harbor, and off the sundeck, palm trees and a golf course. This will be home for the next two months, and we look forward to settling in to some relaxation at the start of the new year.

It sure doesn’t feel like Christmas amidst the palm trees, but can’t say we miss the single digit temps back in the Northcountry.

Here are a couple attempts to be in the spirit of the holidays.

Accept our best wishes for your holiday season, wherever you may be.

November 27 – December 10, 2019

December 4-5, 2019 – As we were making our way south from Sarasota, looking for a nice place to anchor, we spied a trio of spots that were indicated on the crowd-sourced ActiveCaptain community as being good places to drop the hook. The one at the south-east looked nicely protected, a tiny little bay.

Well, when we got there, it wasn’t quite what we expected; a man-made cove, surrounded by $1M+ homes. According to Google Maps, this was Pelican Bay.

Oh well, in we went, and had a nice base from which to take our dinghy over to the southern tip of Little Gasparilla Island, for a walk on the beach. We came back just before sunset to find that two other boats had joined us there for the night.

The next day we were going to head down to Cayo Costa State Park. Cayo Costa Island is one of a chain of barrier islands that shelter Charlotte Harbor and Pine Island Sound. The park contains nine miles (14 km) of soft white sandy beaches and 2,506 acres (10 km2) of pine forests, oak-palm hammocks, and mangrove swamps. (wikipedia)

It turns out that where we are headed is also called Pelican Bay, but it’s as different as night and day.

Since our trip down took less than two hours, we had plenty of time to explore, and so took the dinghy down to Cabbage Key to get our very own ‘Cheeseburger in Paradise’. (The inn there is purported to be the inspiration for the Jimmy Buffett song by that title)

The ambiance was pretty funky, but the burger only so-so.

We met up with some other Loopers on three different boats, that were each exploring various parts of the area. A couple of us went over into a little ‘manatee hole’, a small inlet and pond off Pelican Bay, and rowed our dinghy around and saw a few manatees surface, with just their snouts above water. Very hard to get a picture, though.

Enjoyed a spectacular sunset that night, and the next day made a couple trips over to the beaches, where we continued to add to our shell collection. Ben had to promise that we’d still make a stop at Sanibel, supposedly the mecca for sea shell picking.

Here’s a short drone clip showing At Ease, and other boats, anchored at the real Pelican Bay.

November 18-24, 2019 –

November 17/18 2019 – The boat was ready. We were ready. We were in the right place, at the right time, to make the right decision about our 170 mile crossing of the Gulf of Mexico.

Go!

Our friend Greg on TxAu pulled past at 1500, and we pulled out of our (very tight) slip at C-Quarters Marina, and followed him down the river toward Saint George Sound, around Dog Island and out the inlet to the Gulf.

Paddy Wagon and Sea-C-Rider followed At Ease, with quite a few other boats leaving ahead of us, or behind us, on their own schedules during the afternoon.

We four settled in on the designated cruising speed, and gained a comfortable separation of about 1/4 to 1/2 mile between boats so we’d be able to see each other in the darkness and have assured radio communications on the 2-hourly checks we’d agreed upon.

The waves were between 1 and 2 feet, and the boat rode comfortably as we headed initially east for the first hour and a half, toward a marker at which we turned south, and started the long leg to Anclote Key outside Tarpon Springs. The slight swell was behind us at that point, with negligible wind, and everything was going smoothly as we enjoyed a beautiful sunset.

After sunset, when it was nearly dark, we had a pod of dolphins come play in our bow-wave for a few minutes, but soon, dusk gave way to a very black night, and we could see nothing other than the lights of the other boats, and the instruments.

Although there were scattered clouds, we were able to see some stars for a while, but as the moon rose, the clouds brightened and we were actually able to discern the surface of the water for most of the rest of the trip.

There was no haze or fog at all, and we had crystal clear view of the lights of boats ahead of us, behind us, and later on, boats that were converging with us from the sides. We could pick up lights 4-5 miles away, and easily keep track of all the boats in the vicinity, aided by radar and AIS.

We took rotating shifts, each taking the helm while the other tried to doze, and that did give us each a little relief rather than trying to stay awake all night.

Chantale was driving when around 5 AM, she encountered the first crab-pots (actually crab-trap floats). These small floats are connected to crab traps on the bottom with rope or cables, which are laid out in lines that are hundreds of feet long; when you see one, there are probably more nearby. You definitely don’t want to get one of these wound around your propeller, so vigilance is key!

We knew that we’d come across these as we got in closer to shore, in depths of ~30 feet, but these were in 52 feet of water (!), so a bit unexpected. She roused Ben, who was asleep on the bench seat in front of the helm, and a ‘fire drill’ quickly ensued. We slowed to a crawl, communicating a warning to the boats behind us, and after bundling up, Chantale went forward with the spotlight to scan the water on our path, to point out the hazards so Ben could alter the course enough to miss them, while staying on the correct general heading.

We were soon back underway at cruising speed, with Chantale at the bow with the light for over an hour, before it was light enough to discern the floats with natural light.

We wound up being on high alert for more than thirty miles, but with very smooth water, and the sun slightly off to one side rather than directly in front of us, the crab-pots were easy to see, and were more an annoyance to avoid, rather than a true risk.

The sunrise was pretty, and we were fortunate that a low layer of clouds shaded us until it was a bit higher in the sky.

As we pulled around Anclote Key, we phoned the marina to find out that we would need to wait an hour or two until several boats had cleared out of the marina in order for us to go to our slip, so we motored up and dropped the hook just across from the channel that leads to Tarpon Springs.

Ahhh! We made it across, and could now relax, get a hot shower, and prepare to enjoy the warmer Florida part of our adventure.

Let the ‘pleasure-boating’ begin!

November 9-16, 2019 – This week we traveled 270 miles across Lower Alabama and the Florida panhandle, from Mobile, AL to Carrabelle, FL, in preparation for our overnight crossing of the Gulf of Mexico.

It was mostly cold, windy, grey, and miserable.

We had envisioned anchoring and taking the dinghy to isolated stretches of shoreline, strolling the renowned white sand, or sampling the local seafood at fun waterfront bars or restaurants. Nope. Down jackets and wool hats.

We did spend two nights in Mobile, and went with friends to museums – the gals to the Mobile History Museum, and the guys to the USS Alabama. (Separate post to follow) before crossing Mobile Bay and spending two nights at Orange Beach, AL.

The rates were good at the military marina at Pensacola Naval Air Station, and we wanted to see the Naval Aviation Museum there. The marina was somewhat isolated, though, so although we did take our bikes out on the first day, we had to get a rental car to get to shopping and the museum. (More pictures from the museum will be in a separate blog).

We saw the neatest old steel tugboat at the marina, that a young couple seemed to be fixing up; they took it out for a short cruise just after dark one night, but due to fierce winds on our second day there, we didn’t get over to find out what their story was.

We are intently watching the forecasts for when the winds and seas will settle, to provide safe and comfortable crossing overnight. There are as many stories of wonderful starlit crossings in smooth seas, as there are horror stories of rough and worsening conditions in pitch darkness 100 miles out.

It’s looking like Sunday night might be the right time, and so we press on, 50 miles to Destin, 70 miles to Panama City, 85 miles to Carrabelle. Each day the various forecasts seem to look better and better, and more aligned.

Although we have seen many dolphins since getting to Mobile, we finally had them come right up to the boat and follow alongside on our last leg to Carrabelle. Previously they’d come up to the boat for a look and then disappear. Maybe they were looking for people? So Chantale went out on the side deck, and suddenly, there they were! They were so fun to watch – maybe it’s because they liked the interaction, in addition to the waves of the boat.

We top off diesel tanks upon arrival at C-Quarters Marina, and walk up the street for some good fresh seafood before turning in for our last night’s full sleep before the long overnighter.

The next day, we confer with other boats looking to cross, and with some experienced locals with decades of experience on when to, or not to, head out into the Gulf. It appears to be unanimous, that it should be a sound decision to go Sunday afternoon, and we get everything on board ready to go, and especially making sure that anything loose is well battened down in preparation for the possibility of boisterous seas.

We are ready.