Cruise to the Keys 2014 – Page 4 – Have Wind Will Travel

Back at Sea! Me, Phillip and the Mackerel Makes Three!

July 14, 2014July 14, 2014anniedike

Yep, a mackerel! Which we originally thought was a wahoo, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Back it up. Rewind. Bzzzwwwhooop.

April 22, 2014:

We woke to a beautiful sunrise on our last morning in Ft. Myers Beach. While we love being on anchor (or on the ball, or at a marina, or however we find ourselves stopped and secure for the time being), what we really love is sailing. Getting that boat going! She loves it too. It’s what she was built for. We brewed our coffee, filled our mugs and tossed our line off of the ball. We were going to do some sailing today kids!

See how we smile? Like Donna Summers at a disco! Just doing what we love!

We expected about a 30-hour passage to Key West. We left Ft. Myers Beach around 8:00 a.m., and we expected to arrive in Key West around mid- to late-morning the following day. While there is a mooring field near Key West, the Captain had booked us a few nights at the A&B Marina in Key West Bight. He figured since it was our first time there by boat, and the expected highlight of the trip, might as well splurge a little, huh? Go big or go home! Isn’t he great? He called the marina that morning to confirm our reservation and learned then that we were going to have to back in to our boat slip. *Gulp* I’ll save that nugget of a story for another day!

For the time being, we were thrilled to find that the motor cranked that morning on the first turn, using the engine battery. After the issues we’d had the night before with the dead starting battery and the engine overheating, we were incredibly pleased to see everything charged and running so well. After we got to thinking about the overheating a bit, we figured it might have been one of those freaky amoeba-like snails we’d seen swimming around in Ft. Myers Beach. Have you guys ever seen these?

They’re hard to capture on film but I kept trying. They look like some strange slimy Darwinian organism that hasn’t quite evolved yet. I imagine it’s what a conch looks like once it’s spilled out of its shell, and they swim by flapping their wing-like … things.

Some riveting “flapping footage” for you:

Some were tan and spotted, others black and splotchy. They were just so weird. Phillip first spotted them when he spent a solid three hours changing the oil of outboard on the dinghy. You remember the day the car wouldn’t start …

Yeah – he got up close and personal with the water that morning and said he saw like fifteen of them swim, or flap, by – whatever it is they do. With so many of them in the water, we started to think perhaps one of them weird snail things got sucked up against our raw water intake through-hole the night before, causing it to clog and the engine to overheat. It was totally possible, likely probable. I have to say I derived a small bit of pleasure imagining the little snail turd, panic-stricken, stuck up against our hull, unable to flap away. Serves him right trying to screw with our boat!

But, we watched the engine temp closely that morning and found she was holding just fine, so whatever had happened, we figured it was a fluke and counted our lucky stars. We made our way out of the mooring field and headed out to sea! (Or the Gulf … same thing … to me, anyway. Whenever we head out to go sailing, anywhere, we go to the SEA!!)

It was nice this time to have a boat buddy along for the passage – our friend Johnny Walker and his son, Jeremy, on Johnny’s 38′ Morgan, s/v Windwalker. They were making the passage as well from Ft. Myers Beach to Key West.

There’s the Walker – coming under the Matanza’s Bridge!

It was a gorgeous morning. Blue waters, a bright sky and big billowing sails.

Yeah … billowing. Unfortunately, the wind was a little lackluster that morning, so we had to motor for a few hours, but we were thankful to see the engine purring right along, running just fine. It was right around noon, though, that the wind kicked in, and we found ourselves on a perfect beam reach for the afternoon.

There’s Johnny up ahead!

All you could see was beautiful blue water to the edge of every horizon.

It felt incredible to be back out in the Gulf! Otto (our auto-pilot) was holding great, we were making good time and the sea state was perfect. We tossed out our fishing line a little after noon and kicked back to enjoy the sail. Around 2:00 p.m. Phillip decided to cook up our “big meal” for the day – broccoli and beef stir-fry – as we figured if you’re going to eat a big meal and get sleepy, better to do it during daylight hours so we would be refreshed and ready to hold our respective shifts that night.

But, of course, right when we decide to cook something we brought, we find food from the sea! (See, again with SEA!). We had a fish on the line!! Who knows how long he’d been on there. The stretchy band we used as our “indicator” had broke clean off and the line had been taut for, likely, quite some time. Phillip was occupied with lunch below so I started to reel him in.

Yes, it took that long …

But we finally got him up to the boat, and MAN, what a beast!

It took a team effort to get him hauled in to the cockpit, but we got him in there. We bagged him up mafia style, but I swear he kept trying to eat his way out and nab Phillip’s toes! Chomp, chomp!

He had some wicked teeth!

That’s actually what helped us identify him. We looked through the fisherman’s guide to try and find some identifying characteristics to determine what he was.

The spotting on his back and body looked kind of like a wahoo, but his teeth and upper dorsal fin gave him away.

We had caught ourselves a king mackerel!

A thirty-seven incher, too!

How’s that for royalty!? But, then the fun began … Guess whose job it is to clean the fish we catch on the boat. Go on. Guess! That’s right … it’s the First Mate’s. I busted out my fileting tools and set to it.

While the Captain …

Well, he was hungry. And, to be fair, he had cooked us up an awesome lunch.

One of our go-tos on the boat. Broccoli and beef stir-fry. Recipe HERE.

To be honest, though, I’m not sure how he could find the scene in the cockpit very appetizing …

It was a bloody mess. (No British accent intended).

But, it seemed I was getting better at it. I carved off some pretty sweet looking filets.

Trying hard to get every last morsel of meat off.

If I had to guess, I’d say we carved off about 9 one-pound filets total. Quite a bit of fish.

Yum!

But, also quite a bit of work. From the time of the catch-and-bag, then the gut-and-clean to the dreaded wash-and-scrub of the cockpit, the whole fish debacle turned into about a three-hour chore. But, I mean … what else are we doing, right? It seemed our buddies on the Windwalker smelled the blood, sweat and toil and they ventured over to have a look at our spoils.

That Morgan sure looked great glistening in the afternoon sun.

And I sure wish we could share the pictures they took of us while we were underway, but let’s just say I don’t have them yet … (Jeremy – you know who you are, and what you have not yet done!).

In all honesty, though, it was a great day sail. A lot of fun with the big fish catch and nice to have boat buddies sailing along beside us. After the big meal and the boat chores were done, we settled in for a nice evening of leisurely reading as the sun dropped down in the sky.

We were still on a perfect heading easing into the night. Our bellies were full. Our hands were finally clean (albeit still tainted just a bit with that distinct fishy smell). But our hearts were content. We were really out there. Sailing across the Gulf.

When the sun rose again, we would finally be there — the Florida Keys!

Bonnie the Bunny

July 9, 2014July 10, 2014anniedike

April 20, 2014:

Tomorrow was it. We were going to head out around daybreak to make our final passage south to the Keys. We were beyond excited. We spent the morning cleaning and readying the boat for the next day’s passage – re-tying the fuel cans we had filled the day before, re-checking the fluids we had topped off, taking out the trash. You know, real exciting boat stuff. We were planning to meet our buddy Johnny and his wife Cindy around mid-morning to make a mega run to the store for provisions. Cindy had driven down to spend the weekend with Johnny and had been nice enough to offer us boating bums a ride to the store before she left. Don’t mind if we do! Knowing we weren’t going to have to haul our supplies back pack-mule style, we made quite the luxurious list and even planned our attack from produce to paper products. We were going to get all Supermarket Sweep on them – matching sweatshirts and all.

Yeeeeahhh!

But, sadly … as ready as WE were to do some serious grocery shopping, it seems the rest of the world wasn’t ready for us. We found Ft. Myers tends to take their Easter pretty seriously. Every place was closed. Every … single … place. We drove by Publix. No. Target. Closed. Winn Dixie? Shut-down. I hate to say it, but we finally ended up at the all-American icon of convenience shopping. Mmmm-hmmmm. Wal-Mart. You can always count on old Wally World to be open. We each made our rounds and packed Cindy’s little car to the brim. And, of course – what do you always want to do after grocery shopping? EAT! After planning for and picking up everything we would need to cook and eat for the passage and the following week, all we could think about was food. We stopped at this little McGregor Cafe in Ft. Myers and scored pretty good.

A juicy Rueben sandwich and a lobster cake salad.

Yum! But, the best part was our waitress. Bonnie … the Bunny.

You see? As much as I love to write fiction – I really don’t have to make this stuff up.

Bonnie (“the Bunny”) pranced around the entire time sporting fuzzy purple bunny ears and offering up what she called her “Special Bunny Peeps Cake” to any poor customer who couldn’t turn her away. She even suffered it on the entire wait staff like office birthday cake.

When I walked through the dining area to go to the restroom, there were ten of them in there, at least, all picking with plastic forks at pieces of neon peep fluff on their styrofoam plates. They would stuff mouthfuls in their cheeks and give Bonnie an exaggerated “Mmmmm” smile-and-nod when she would walk by, telling them “It’s my special recipe! I make it every year!”

It was … hilarious.

After our big venture to all of the closed stores, we headed back to the boat and packed her up for the next day’s passage to the Keys. We still had some beautiful afternoon hours left, so I decided to bust out the old inflatable SUP and get to it.

See Annie pump.

Pump Annie pump!

Whew! I tell you. I love that my SUP is inflatable (so we can break it down and stow it down below) but she is a chore-and-a-half to blow up. By the time you’re done, the thought of paddling is exhausting. But, somehow I managed!

I tossed her in the water and set to it.

Go Annie go!

Ft. Myers had lots of residential inlets where the houses are all waterfront along the seawall and you can paddle around in each of them, checking out peoples’ boats, backyards, pools, houses, etc. I love paddling around nice waterfront homes. I like to imagine all the costly upkeep and maintenance they must require and bask in the contentment of living on a boat!

And, I was feeling pretty content … that is, until I returned to the boat and Phillip told me the engine wouldn’t crank. Say what? We’re leaving for the Keys tomorrow. Could you repeat that?

But, sadly, it was true. The engine wouldn’t fire – at least not on its own battery. Luckily, we have two different battery systems on our boat. One battery system is dedicated to starting the engine while the second bank (the house batteries) is much larger and equipped to run all the other systems on the boat. We also have a nifty device that allows us to combine the battery systems together if necessary by the simple flip of a switch. When we combined the circuit and pulled from the house batteries, the engine would crank, but she would not fire from the starting battery alone. Errgghh … What did I say about those big waterfront mansions being more trouble than they’re worth? Well, forget that. We had boat problems!

We traced the connections and wires from the alternator to the battery combiner (which regulates which set of batteries get charged) and found the inline fuses for the starting battery had blown.

This meant the starting battery was not getting a charge when the engine was running. This was good news because it was an easy fix. Replace the small fuses and we figured we would be in business. Then, all we needed to do was run the engine for a bit to be certain the starting battery was in fact charging.

We replaced the fuses, combined the batteries and cranked her up. Everything was running great. We had water coming out of the back and plenty of gas to give the boat a charge, so we let her purr. It was just about dusk, so we poured a couple of glasses of wine and headed topside to watch the sun set.

Ahhh … Isn’t she beautiful? We sipped from our glasses and drank in the pink horizon. Life was tranquil and serene. Everything was perfect … until the alarm went off. Yes, the ALARM. A high-pitched, shrill tea-kettle whistle rang out from the cockpit. Phillip and I jumped up, knocking over our deck chairs and glasses as we scrambled back to the helm as she shrieked angrily at us. It was the high-temp alarm. Picture a car steaming on the side of the road.

It meant our engine had overheated. What next?

We immediately shut her down so she could cool. But, we were stunned. What in the heck had happened? Our temp had been holding fine. Water had been spouting out the back. Then all of a sudden it overheated?? We didn’t know what to think. After she cooled a bit, we got back down in the engine room and started checking out the heat exchanger, making sure the seacock (that allows raw water to pull in to heat the engine) was open and working fine, basically just troubleshooting … again …

But, while we didn’t find any obvious issue with the cooling system on the engine, I did notice something on the battery combiner that we had missed before. There was a little green clip that plugged into the combiner that had apparently wiggled its way out of its slot. This little guy:

Who the heck knows when that happened – likely when we were beating our way into Charlotte Harbor during our last horrendous night in the Gulf – if I had to wager a guess. But, the good news is, we spotted it. An easy fix. Just push her back in. *Click* And THEN our engine battery would get a charge. I can’t stress enough how important it is to know your own boat. Tinker around on it, try to troubleshoot things yourself, try to fix things yourself (to the extent possible) and, basically, just piddle around with the systems. I, personally, like to sing this while I do and recommend you do too:

Phillip won’t admit it, but he secretly digs that tune!

It’s amazing what you’ll learn. Most of the systems on the boat are really simple if you just take the time to figure them out, and the confidence you’ll gain in handling everything on the boat yourself is easily worth it. So – take some advice from Julia Andrews and get to know her!

And, while I say that, as much “knowing” as were doing on our boat that evening, we were still totally stumped by the engine overheating. Phillip jumped in and checked the seacock through-hole on the hull of the boat to make sure there wasn’t some trash bag or something caught up in it.

Nothing. We let her cool completely down, checked the coolant levels and the seacock (again) and decided to re-crank and see what happened. We both sat in the cockpit watching the heat gage like a hawk.

Still sipping our wine, of course. I mean, we’re boat people, but we’re still cruisers …

Thankfully, though, she held at her standard operating temp of 180 degrees.

To this day, we really can’t tell you what happened. The most likely explanation is that something got temporarily sucked up against the through-hole under the boat and the engine could not pull water in to cool itself. Then when we shut off the engine, the suction stopped and whatever it was floated away. We suppose … That’s all we could do. Was suppose. But, it was getting late and, either because of, or despite, all our efforts, the boat was currently running great and was ready to get under way the next morning. So, we supposed ourselves right to bed to get some rest for the passage tomorrow. We were just a 24-hour run away from the Keys!

No Autographs Please!

July 4, 2014July 4, 2014anniedike

April 19, 2014:

I don’t know if I’ve ever said this before, but for those of you out there who think cruising is all cocktails and sunsets, I can assure you it’s not. Owning a boat is a lot of work. You may recall our “million mile march” through St. Pete to pick up a portable pump from the Back-Door Marine Supply Guy to change the engine oil. As the previous day in Ft. Myers had been devoted primarily to getting the dinghy to crank, the next bright and sunny day was committed to changing the oil in the diesel engine on the boat. Fun, fun!

It was definitely time to do it, though. With all of the motoring we had unfortunately had to do to “weather” the weather in the Gulf, we were well over our allotted 50 hours, so we set to it.

It certainly was a cleaner job, though, with our new, smaller plastic oil pump.

The oil dumped right in, and we were able to seal her off and plug the tubes nicely with Q-tips, so no mess!

We also checked the raw water strainer to make sure she wasn’t clogged.

Unfortunately, she came out looking like a love-child mix of Bob Marley and Medusa.

Yipes! It was definitely time to clean her out as well and we noticed a significant difference in the flow rate of the water exhaust on the stern after we did. Let’s just say she had a lot more “oomph” – I believe is the technical term.

We also checked the sacrificial zinc on the heat exchanger. He was almost toast!

Because the metals that are immersed in seawater in the heat exchanger create a battery, that also means they lead to corrosion. If you’re interested, read more HERE. And, this little guy is meant to take the brunt of that. He corrodes first (hence the term “sacrificial”) and then we replace him with a new soldier so the other, more important metals, don’t corrode at all. Or so the theory is.

That is one battered warrior! Thanks Zinc!

We also checked the fuel filter as well.

“Umm … sir, I definitely see some build-up here.” It was time to change that as well. Not much of an issue, but when we began to disassemble the housing for the secondary fuel filter, we ran into a slight issue.

The connector ring broke …

But, never fear! That’s why we carry back-ups! And back-ups for our back-ups! I got my little First Mate fingers back there and fixed her right up.

Good as new!

We then cranked her up to make sure everything was running just right, our engine was maintaining temp, water was flowing out of the back (this time with “oomph”) and that our oil level was right where it needed to be. All systems were a go, so we hopped off the mooring ball for a bit to head up to the fuel dock to fill up and dump our oil. The Diversified Yacht Facility there was huuuggee!

They had handfuls of 100-foot yachts stacked in there like toys. It was incredible. They were also very friendly and got us filled up (water and fuel), dumped out, scrubbed up and everything in between. We were ready for our next passage for sure.

We were thinking of heading out the next day, Sunday Funday!, to make the jump across the Gulf to Key West, but our buddy, Johnny, whom we were meeting up with in Ft. Myers, was going to wait to make the crossing on Monday, so we decided to suffer another day in Ft. Myers Beach – ain’t life tough …

The minute we got the boat back on the ball, we cleaned up, spruced up and made a right proper to-go drink for shore:

Phillip: “I’ll have an ‘Oh Shiiiit’ please. Heavy on the rum!”

Annie: “You got it Cap’n.”

We trolled around downtown checking out the local tiki bars and scenery.

And, the local wildlife as well …

I think this one may be extinct real soon …

Then the craziest thing happened. We were walking on up to Petey’s Upper Deck, above the Matanza’s Inn, when this guy on the dock hobbled humbly up to us and asked “Are you Annie, on the Plaintiff’s Rest?”

I mean … Total record-scratch moment. Errrruunnnhh (or however you spell a record scratch sound?).

“Excuse me?” I asked, thinking I surely had never seen this man before and didn’t know how he could possibly know me, or my boat …

“I’m friends with Bob,” he said. “McDonald. He got me hooked on your blog.”

Eek! A real live blog follower? An honest-to-goodness fan? And, he’d spotted me on his very own in Ft. Myers Beach?? The fame went instantly to my head.

Okay, I wasn’t that bad … hopefully … but I was certainly smiling from ear to ear. Here he is – Capt. Doug on the s/v Puffin!

He’d been “on the ball” in the Ft. Myers mooring field for about six months and has been following our blog for quite some time. He was a great guy – a lot of fun – and certainly living the right kind of salty life there in Ft. Myers Beach. Like many in the boating community seem to do, he offered to help us with anything if we needed it or provide us names of fellow mechanics, riggers, etc. if we needed any work done in the area. We had a big time chatting with him about ‘old blog times’ – the original Gulf Crossing and other debacles. He was great. Thanks Doug!

And, you’ll be happy to know I wasn’t too celebrity about it. I gave him an awesome autograph, which I’m sure he’ll hang right on top of this one:

See? Didn’t go to my head at all …

After the exciting celeb sighting, Phillip and I hit the deck! Petey’s Upper Deck for their famous Key Lime Coladas.

Mmmmmm …

Those things were awesome. And, totally calorie-free I was told. Or, was it calories don’t count at the beach? I can’t remember. Either way, they were incredible. All three of them!

We finally met up with our buddy Johnny Walker on the s/v Windwalker who was making the trip down to the Keys with his son, Jeremy. Say hey Johnny!

Johnny is an incredible diesel mechanic, a life-long boater and fellow die-hard cruiser. He’s also just a few months shy of 72 and still living on his boat and living out his dream. No matter what story we told (and I’ve got some really tall ones – hacking off our dinghy in the middle of the Gulf, fixing a transmission leak with a Dasani bottle and some duct tape … ) it didn’t matter, Johnny had heard it three times before and knew of someone who had done the same thing in 6-8 foot seas with one arm tied behind his back. The man was full of colorful tales. Oh, and spare parts as well. No matter what minute little part we may have noticed was having an issue on our boat, he had three of them and was happy to share.

See – here he is now: “Oh, I’ve got one of those. I’ll drop by your boat later and bring it to you.”

Johnny was a trip. Beyond generous and full of spunk. And, that’s his wife Cindy, a real salty survivor. She’s been through some serious times on the boat with that man. Her stories, and her perspective, rather, actually impressed me the most. She can remain calm through anything. That’s the kind of gal you need on a boat. She had drove down to spend the weekend with Johnny in Ft. Myers Beach during his trek to the Keys with his son, so she was just staying a day or two. (But, that meant she had a car! A real, live car, which also meant a full-fledged trip to the store for us the next day! You know how we love our provisions!).

We had a big, hearty time hanging out with Johnny and Cindy, scarfing up their great greasy pizza at Petey’s. (Which I was also told did not have any calories). We continued to tell tall tales until nightfall, then we dinghied on back to the boat and crashed hard, yet again. This beach living is rough!

Martaritas and Oysterfellers

June 30, 2014June 30, 2014anniedike

April 18, 2014:

Did I say a margarita? Okay, it was probably more than one … maybe more than two. After we got the “car” (aka our dinghy) cranked and running, we scooted on up to the dinghy dock at Ft. Myers Beach to see what all the fuss was about. We checked in at the Matanzas Inn and, like many of the other mooring fields we had stopped at along the way, Ft. Myers did not disappoint. For a sum total of $15/night, we were secure on the ball with welcomed access to the dinghy dock, restrooms and showers, and (in our opinion), a pimped out laundry room:

I mean, more than one washer and dryer … and a book swap?!? This place was four star! We were thrilled with the amenities. We signed up for two nights and hit the town, puffing out our chests and cheering ourselves along with a mighty “They can’t handle us!” mantra.

We headed first to the beach to see the shore and what kind of salty, sandy folks we were dealing with in Ft. Myers. We stumbled upon a place called “Top O’ the Mast” and thought how fitting?

I’d been there a time or two already on this trip. Why not? Let’s give it a try. We ordered up a couple of their signature rum runners and headed out to the beach.

There we found a diverse bunch of beach bar bums and laz-abouts that felt just our speed. We kicked back with our drinks and watched several gals who looked like they were about three years out of middle school and three sheets to the wind crash their kayak repeatedly in some heavy surf, an older couple on wobbly legs attempt to dance to Eagles tunes and a steroid-infused jet ski rental dude hit on anything remotely resembling a tweenager. It was an easy, entertaining scene.

We then ventured out to find some late lunch beach grub and we came upon an open bar restaurant spilling over with folks called SOB – Smokin’ Oyster Brewery.

Whether it was the name or the atmosphere, I’m not sure, but that place fit us like a worn glove.

We’re not!

When we walked in, there was a band playing in the corner, an old Commodores song I believe, and the lead singer/saxist (or is it saxophonist?) was sauntering around barefoot, playing his heart out, making all the old biddies croon.

He was a big beast of a guy, with what appeared to be several drinks spilled down the front of his shirt, but he was an incredible musician with an obvious passion for his … work. We kicked right back and ordered up a cocktail, a margarita and some delicious sweet, crunchy coconut shrimp.

That was followed by another round of margaritas (I told you it was more than one!)

and another appetizer – the oysters Rockefeller – which I couldn’t manage to call anything but “Martaritas and Oysterfellers” by then.

Luckily the gal who was waiting on us spoke ‘Annie’ and she was able to pick up what I was putting down. For the most part … But, put it down we did. We followed the appetizers up with a slow braised pork shank. Put your fingers to your lips and spritz them out with a smack. Mphua! Whatever that is – that’s what our pork shank was. DE-lish. (And don’t ask me where the picture of it is … I took one I know, but lost it I’m sure!)

After filling our spirits and savoring our big, filling late-lunch, we sauntered back to the dinghy and cruised on back to the boat.

There she is! What a beaut!

We kicked back in the cockpit and took in, what I can now safely say, was the best sunset of the trip.

By cockpit that is …

After the horrendous storm we had encountered in the mooring field the night before, it was nice to see the view we had just seen the day before brewing with ominous clouds now serene and stained with shocking pinks and a burning yellow.

It was so beautiful it silenced us. We both sat in awe, enjoying the slow movement of our chests rising and falling in gratitude,

as the realization started to sink in. We had made it all the way down to Ft. Myers — by boat! Our next stop was Key West. We would be making the jump across the Gulf in just a couple of days. This was it! We were on it. The trip we had been planning for months, preparing and provisioning for for weeks, dreaming about for years. And, here we were. Truly living it. But, we both knew we were enjoying every stop, every step and every breathtaking sunset along the way.

It was the destination that had motivated us, initially, to set our sights on the sea, but it was now the journey that was capturing us, calling us onward, always, for more – to anywhere and nowhere – by boat.

The Car Won’t Start

June 24, 2014June 24, 2014anniedike

April 17-18, 2014 (Keys Log – Day 16):

I’m happy to say we survived the epic flooding in Ft. Myers. I’ve never seen rain come so fast and so hard. But, as fast as it came, it went.

The sun came back out and we found ourselves high and dry, safe and secure. Which meant it was time to do what we normally do right when drop anchor (or snag a mooring ball). That’s right … make a cocktail! Or three.

Now, typically I would have snapped a few shots of us mixing our drinks, toasting the sunset, smiling like happy sailors, but if you recall, after our horrendous night in the Gulf, the harrowing entry into Charlotte Harbor under nightfall and the approximate one hour nap we had that morning, we … were … beat. That silly little selfie above is all the photo-taking I could muster for the evening. It was the last shot of the day.

And, I believe it was somewhere in the middle of his second rum drink that the Captain started to nod off and dip his head into his glass. I can’t blame him. The man had held the helm of our beloved boat for about 12 hours straight. And, then motored us all the way over to Ft. Myers in the same day. It was around 6:00 p.m. and we were both fading fast. Phillip kicked back on the settee to “close his eyes for just a minute” while I threw some dinner together – one of our go-to’s on the boat – chicken tiki masala with naan. The funny thing was, though, I was banging around, clanging pots, opening cabinets, shutting doors, doing a great number of things any one of which would usually have the Captain sitting upright, looking around, but none of it phased him. He was OUT. Gone, done for. Knee deep in REMs. I roused him for supper and watched with a wicked grin as his head bobbed and wobbled above his plate and he shoved clumsy mouthfuls in, barely taking the time to chew before swallowing. His entire plate was gone in under six minutes, and he was back in a deep sleep within the seventh. I have to admit it was pretty entertaining. I have never seen him that tired. We both fell asleep around 6:45 p.m. and slept till about 8 the next morning. It was glorious. Now, did we wake to a sticky, caked-up tiki masala mess? Sure! But it was totally worth it.

We woke slowly, took our time sipping coffee and reading and just absorbing the morning. One thing we had noticed intermittently during the night – although it didn’t really phase us, was that our mooring ball kept going underneath the boat and scraping loudly from one side of the hull to the other.

The balls at the Ft. Myers mooring field were rather large and ours made a raucous sound every time it trudged its way from one side of the boat to the other. Now, usually the boat pulls away from the mooring ball because of the wind, so the ball going under the boat is normally not an issue, but the current in the mooring field was strong and it kept pushing our boat up over the ball. The Plaintiff’s Rest was literally on the ball. But, as we started to look around at the other boats in the field, we noticed that unlike us, they had connected the line on the ball directly to their bow cleat. We had used our dock line to make a bridal which we connected to the ball, but that certainly gave the mooring ball a lot more room to play with. So, we decided to take a cue from our fellow moorers, nix the dock line and just tie the ball directly up to our boat.

Then the ball was too close to the the bow to make its way up under the hull. Problem solved. On to the next!

While we didn’t anticipate one, as it seems is always the case in boating, we certainly got one. We had big plans that morning to dinghy to shore, go exploring, get some lunch, check out the facilities. You know – get the lay of our new “land.” But, unfortunately, when we decided to leave the “house” that morning, the “car” wouldn’t start.

I mean, that’s pretty much what your dinghy is when you’re living on a boat. It’s your car. Your means to shore. While we probably could have rowed to the dinghy dock, it was about 200 yards away, against the current. And, we were planning to stay there in the mooring field for a few days. Sure would be nice to have a car …

So, Phillip set to it. He cranked and pulled and yanked and cursed that thing – for half an hour at least. I laughed and took pictures.

He hee hee.

Then we decided to really troubleshoot it. When Phillip looked in the oil window, he could see the oil in the outboard was murky, which meant it had probably taken on water, somehow, during our horrendous night. To this day we are still not sure exactly how that happened. But, c’est la vie. So, he changed the oil in it.

And, boy was he right. It was murky. The oil almost looked like chocolate milk.

He ended up changing it three times before it began to look like oil again.

Then he tried to crank her again. She would sputter and fire and run for a bit and then die. So, he would crank her again. She would sputter and fire and run for a bit and then die. So, he would crank her again, and so on. What was I doing, you ask? Laughing and taking video of course!

I mean, it wasn’t really comical, but what else are you going to do? The great thing was, all of our boat neighbors started to get in on the action. They had been watching Phillip jack around with that engine for about two hours now, listening to her crank and die, crank and die, crank and die. Several of them would throw their arms up and cheer when she cranked and heckle her when she died. “Booo!!” It was better than football. And, when the outboard would crank and Phillip would get going a bit, other boaters would circle the wagons and check on him to make sure he didn’t get stranded.

Boater: “You got her running there, partner?”

Phillip: “I believe so, but don’t go too far. Thanks.”

We even had some folks swing by and drop off what they called their “magic juice” – some special lube they always spray on their outboard when she gives them fits. Because everyone’s outboard gives them fits. It should just say in the manual: SOMETIMES SHE WILL CRANK, SOMETIMES SHE WILL NOT, AND THERE’S NO REASON WHY. That would at least squander the hope that she’s going to run like she’s supposed to.

But, the Captain was persistent. He stuck with it and finally got her purring. Then he started zipping around all over the field, lavishing in the cheers and hollers building around him – the roar of the crowd! Haaahhhahaaa. It was hilarious.

We packed that puppy up while she was running and made our way to shore! We stuck a little thank-you note to the “magic juice” can and dropped it off on our neighbors’ boat.

Finally the car had cranked and we were on our way. To Ft. Myers Beach baby! It’s time for a margarita!

Of Biblical Proportions …

June 20, 2014June 20, 2014anniedike

April 17, 2014 – Keys Log, Day 15:

It was around 4:30 in the morning. Phillip had been holding the helm hour upon hour as we beat our way through the Gulf. It was shocking to see the wind hold so steady. We glared at the instruments like you would your mom telling your prom date how cute it was when you used to run around the neighborhood naked. Please say something different. Please! But, no. The wind instrument registered 25+ for hours, upon hours, upon hours. Sometimes, it would fall down to the low twenties, or even 19 (oooh!), and we would start to get excited. We’ll take 19. But then it would crank right back up to the upper 20’s again and hold steady for hours, upon hours, upon hours. It was a very rough night. I think I might have fallen asleep for two minutes – twice – out of sheer exhaustion, but then a loud crack on a wave and my head would bang against the companionway and I was up again. Phillip never shut his eyes. Not once. All night long he held that wheel.

After battling these conditions for 4-5 hours, we had decided a little after midnight to pull out of the Gulf and take cover in Charlotte Harbor. It was clear the wind was not going to let up. We had wanted to make it from Tampa Bay to Ft. Myers in roughly 24 hours to beat the “numerous thunderstorms” that were set to come in later that afternoon, but with the horrendous night we were having, it just wasn’t looking feasible. And, we had both been up for about 20 hours straight at that point. We were beat.

But, just when you think things are going to get a little easier, in sailing it seems that’s just about the time they get a little harder – always pushing you to your limits. Here we were, 4:30 a.m., and we were coming into a new harbor at night, in 3-4 waves and 25+ mph winds. We had made our way out of Charlotte Harbor one time before, during the Gulf Crossing when we brought the boat back from Punta Gorda.

Man, look at us. There’s Mitch. “Hey Mitch!” And, my God, we still have the dinghy! That seems like forever ago …

But, when we made our way through Charlotte Harbor that time, it was in broad daylight and much calmer conditions. We certainly wouldn’t call this a pass we were truly “familiar with,” and we were coming in at night.

Phillip gave me the wheel (for the first time since 9:00 p.m.) so he could check the charts to make sure there weren’t any shoals or other hazards.

It seems there are always hazards. I guess we just prefer to call them “adventures.” There were a couple of areas where we had to go outside of the markers to avoid the shoals, but I’m thrilled to say we made our way safely into Charlotte Harbor, at night, and left the tumultuous waters of the Gulf behind us. We pulled into the Pass just as the sun was coming up.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so thankful to see warm rays of sun on Phillip’s face. The Captain really stepped up that night and brought us in safe. We were both so grateful. The sun was out, the horizon was visible and we were intact – me, Phillip, the boat and everything on it. We had made it through that harrowing night.

And, we could see land on the horizon. Yippeee!

We pulled into the harbor and found the first place with a decent swing radius off the ICW to drop anchor and get some rest.

It was around 8:30 a.m. by then and we had both been going about 26+ hours. I don’t even remember crawling into the vberth and shutting my eyes. In fact, I’m not even sure how I got into bed. (That’s not the first time that’s happened, though, and I’m sure it won’t be the last).

But, it was a short reprieve. We hadn’t been asleep an hour – at most – and the Captain sprang back into action. He was up, walking around on the deck, making sounds that sounded all too much like he was readying the boat. I was cursing him from the vberth below. But, I finally roused and asked him what the plan was. “We’re going,” he said. “It’s beautiful out here. Not a cloud in the sky. We can make it to Ft. Myers today.”

That man … He’s got a sailor’s heart, no doubt. But, his enthusiasm was infectious. I started nodding my head slowly, then with a little more vigor, like a slow standing clap. You’re damn right we can! Our plan had been to make it to Ft. Myers that day and, after the horrendous night we had had in the Gulf, and we were now here, safe in the ICW, just a 5-6 hour motor away from our goal, then by gollie, let’s do it. Let’s get to Ft. Myers today! I started readying the boat with him.

And, if there is anything out there like “sea karma” or “gulf good will,” we had certainly earned ours. It was a beautiful motor day. Phillip was right, the sun was shining, the sights were superb along the ICW – Cayo Costa, Cabbage Key, all of the state parks along the way. We had definitely earned some favors from the Sea Gods (if there is such a thing). We tied on some swimwear and let our hair down. It was a glorious day on the boat!

This way Cap’n!

We let the solar shower warm on the deck during the day and enjoyed a luxurious cockpit shower in the afternoon. It’s amazing how much you can take for granted the feeling of just being clean. That is one of the things I truly love about sailing. How much it makes you appreciate the little things – a hot shower, a warm bed, a hearty home-cooked meal. Many of the things that, in all the hustle and bustle of a stressful day-to-day life on land, just seem like an afterthought, feel like a lavish treat when you’re out on the boat. It doesn’t take much, a good book perhaps, a warm cup of coffee, and you’ll find yourself warmed from head to toe with complete contentment.

We made easy way along the ICW that day through Pine Island Sound,

over to San Carlos Bay, by Sanibel Island,

and under the Sanibel Causeway Bridge to Ft. Myers Beach.

We were really excited to see the Beach in the distance. We had made it! The same day we had expected to – which was shocking considering the night we’d had. It was strange how the howling winds and treacherous seas of the Gulf now seemed a million miles away. Nothing could phase us here in Ft. Myers!

Do I really do that? Make that stupid face and thumb-point to landfall behind me?

Apparently … I certainly felt the need in St. Pete.

Well, let’s just throw in a self-serving selfie while we’re at it:

Needless to say, we were thrilled to be coming into Ft. Myers Beach. We even spotted a Pensacola boat headed in with us.

“Look Captain. He’s from P’Cola!”

How fortuitous. Take us on in Pensacola!

When we made it to the Matanzas Pass Bridge, we saw this massive pirate-looking ship just in front of the bridge – its mast easily too tall to get under:

And, there were these guys, way up in the rigging, doing some repairs or something I guess. But, they were dangling there, hundreds of feet from the ground (okay, I don’t know – maybe 70 feet – some courageous number I’m sure):

It was wild. We learned later that the boat was used for filming some of the scenes from Pirates of the Caribbean. You’re telling me Johnny Depp’s been on this boat? This … very … boat?

Mmmm Hmmmm … I would hurt him …

But, back to Phillip. And, the boat. We made our way nicely under the bridge and snagged a mooring ball in the Matanzas Harbor Mooring Field. Operated by the Town of Ft. Myers Beach and again, great rates – $15/day – includes dingy dock, restrooms, shower, laundry, pump-out, you name it. That place rocked!

And, I feel thankful now that we had really paid our dues the night before, fighting and leaping our way across the Gulf, because I think we ranked up just enough good will to save us from this one last catastrophe — a storm … of biblical proportions.

We made it to our mooring ball with ease and hooked up. Ahhh … Nothing to it. We’re experts on the ball now. I stepped up into the cockpit to snap a few shots to capture our new “home” for the next few days, and I’m glad now that I did. Because this is what we saw come over the horizon:

You see the Matanzas Bridge there?

Good, because do you see it now?

The rain came in sheets. Torrential, hard-hitting sheets. Not ten minutes after we had hooked up. Phillip ran up topside to get some our clothes and things off the “line” (the lifelines) and he came back soaked in seconds.

The sky grew an ominous boding grey,

And, rain buried the boats around us.

The wind was blowing 38 mph, with gusts of 42. It was intense and immediate. Frightening but thrilling at the same time. I really felt like I was going to start seeing animals, paired in twos, running along the shore to safety. And, while the thought didn’t strike me until the storm had passed, I can only wonder now what we would have done if that storm had hit 15 minutes earlier …

SIDEBAR – Ahhhh …. My Name in Print

June 17, 2014anniedike

Or someone else’s name … That’s fine too, I guess. As long as they’re my words! Which they are. I’ll take a brief break (another one of our newly-coined “sidebars“) from our harrowing trek to the Keys to give you, hot off the press in Cruising Outpost’s Summer 2014 issue, my first published article — A New Salt’s First Sail, by Annie … Drake.

Full article HERE.

A big thanks to the self-proclaimed “Large Editor” at Cruising Outpost, Bob Bitchin, for appreciating my sense of humor and taking a chance on this silly little sailor.

Cut from the same cloth I tell ya …

The same cloth …

Bob built Cruising Outpost out of the rubble of the former Latitudes & Attitudes magazine and television show, and I’m thrilled to be included. Hopefully, there will be many more articles to come.

And, an even bigger thanks to all of you faithful followers for promoting my antics. If I (or Ms. Drake) ever make it big time, you only have yourselves to blame, but know that you were here, in the beginning, where it all began.

The little blogger who could …

Becomes published author – the name Dike be should:

And, stay tuned for more from our Cruising to the Keys log next time. We are making treacherous way from Tampa Bay to Ft. Myers with the Captain beginning his ninth hour at the helm. Yes, ninth. In the dark of night, with daylight poised to unleash forces of nature on us only Noah’s ark could survive. More to come. Stay tuned!

“Way to Work the Hydro Foil!”

June 13, 2014June 13, 2014anniedike

April 16, 2014

The wind was pumping when we headed out into Tampa Bay the next morning.

19.6 nautical mph. We motored out, nose into the wind, and as we were headed out into the bay, I swore to Phillip I could see a kite on the horizon.

Just the tiniest blip. See it there:

But, this guy was flyyyy-ing! Well, more than the kite. He was zipping across the water, at alarming speeds, with almost no wake. Phillip and I kept watching him zip back and forth, until he finally came up on us, and we could see that he was on a hydrofoil.

I don’t know if you all have seen these yet. They kind of blew my mind when folks first started telling me about them. “So, you’re kiteboarding, but your board is not really touching the water??” I really couldn’t wrap my mind around it until I saw it in person, but that’s what it is. There’s a lower fin, the foil, that pushes water upwards, like an airplane wing, to literally lift the board up out of the water.

See? Pretty bad ass if you ask me. That Bernoulli guy really knew what he was talking about. But, in the water, less surface contact means less friction and more speed. I believe the hydrofoil was initially designed for the America’s Cup vessels, but don’t quote me on that. It is really insane to think these tiny fins have enough power to lift those monster racing yachts out of the water, but they do. Water is an incredibly powerful force.

So, this kiteboarder was zipping through the waters of Tampa Bay on a hydrofoil, and he came right behind us. I mean, right …

behind …

our boat.

It was awesome. Check out the video here:

After a collective sigh and a slow recovery of our jaws from the floor of the cockpit, we decided to finally do some sailing. We pulled the main up to the first reef point to ease out of the Bay in the still steady 20 knot winds. Strange, though, all morning the sun had this luminous circle around it. It looked like some kind of reverse solar eclipse or something.

The Captain and I were stumped. If any of you followers know what phenomenon this is, please, do tell. It felt like we were sailing in some sci-fi thriller. I kept thinking I was going to look down from the sky and find us sailing through pitch black waters toward a golden crystal on the horizon known as the Isle of Vriptonia. It was weird.

Thankfully, the sun circle eventually dissipated and the wind laid down as we made our way out of the pass, and we ended up having a great sailing day – steady 12-14 knot winds all afternoon through crystal green waters.

We said goodbye to Egmont Key (no sweet dreams there!) and headed out into the Gulf!

Nothing like our buddies on Laho (you guys rock!), but some great amateur sailing footage here:

You can tell, though, that we were moving! We averaged 6 knots most of the day, thinking we would easily make it into Ft. Myers the next morning. While we had a great time in St. Pete, heading out on the town every night, checking out the rooftop bars and fine dining, we were both excited to be back out in the open water. Just the two of us and the boat, looking forward to a silky sunset and a serene night sail under the stars.

Unfortunately, that’s not what we got. The placid sunset was a deceptive omen. The wind had been blowing a steady 8-9 knots most of the evening and it looked like it was going to hold true through the night. So, after the sun dipped out of the sky, we decided to set up a movie on the laptop in the cockpit. Now, you remember what happened to us the last time we tried to have Movie Night on the ole’ Rest. Perhaps we should have taken it as a sign. Like when you wash your car and it rains. Because, it seems, when we set up for movie night on our boat, sh** tends to hit the fan.

It wasn’t ten minutes after we’d nestled in that the winds kicked up to 15 mph. The boat heeled over and groaned, but we were fine. Overpowered for a quiet evening sail, but still fine. We paused the movie and decided to reef the sails a bit and that’s when total chaos ensued. In a matter of five minutes, the wind went from 9 knots to 15 to TWENTY-FIVE. We were trying to wrestle the sails down to the first reef but the Jenny was whipping and popping in the winds, and there was so much force on her, even luffing, she felt impossible to pull in. After struggling with the sails for several minutes, we were turned every which way, and Phillip decided we had better crank the engine and drop the sails to get back on course. The right call, but still a bit of a dangerous proposition in and of itself. The wind had kicked up the sea state and we were beating into 3-4 foot waves. It took both of us to muscle the Jenny in. I then headed up to onto the deck to wrestle the main sail down into the stack pack, careful this time to fasten my safety harness and clip in everywhere I went. And, it was a good call, there were several times a wave hit and I had to grab onto my harness for balance. It was a bit of a Deadliest Catch moment but, thankfully we got the sails down and secure.

That was just the beginning though. The wind definitely brought some rough seas, and we were beating into waves, bare poles, fighting our way through the Gulf. The boat actually felt like it was leaping sometimes. It would lunge over the top of a wave, but then come almost to a dead stop at the blunt face of the next one. It’s hard to imagine a 35-foot, 16-ton vessel can be so agile, can move or be moved so easily, but out in the open Gulf, I assure you it can. It’s incredibly humbling to be reminded of how absolutely tiny and fragile you are out there in the open water, no matter how big your yacht.

The sea was not our friend that night. The sounds of the boat groaning and pounding into waves was deafening below, and there was no way either of us were going to be able to sleep in those conditions. We both hunkered down and strapped in in the cockpit, our eyes glued to the instruments, pleading with the wind to ease off. But, she wouldn’t. She kept coming at us in swift torrents, holding a steady 25-28 knots for hours on end. All we could do was hold our course, hold onto the boat and hold out until daylight.

This was Phillip in the eighth hour:

The Back Door Marine Supply Guy

June 10, 2014anniedike

April 15, 2014:

After our leisurely stroll through the Dali museum in downtown St. Pete that morning, it was time to focus on some boat chores that afternoon. We were in the market for a portable oil change kit. While we certainly hadn’t planned on motoring as much as we had already on the trip, you know our philosophy on plans. With the various mishaps we had experienced with the sails (losing the main halyard and the failure of our Jenny swivel shackle – both of which we had decided were the product of operator error – poor boat!), we’d had to motor more on the trip than we would have liked. But, that’s what she’s got a motor for I guess, so …

The manual for our engine recommends changing the oil every 50 hours. We knew we were going to cross that threshold soon, so we needed to have a pump and canister ready when the time came. While we have an oil change kit at home, that thing is a bulky, messy, metal beast that looks like an offspring of the Tin Man:

Face it Man, he’s definitely yours.

We keep it in a big rubbermaid container because everything in it is covered in thick, sticky oil. It just wasn’t an item we really wanted to pack on the boat for a month-long trip to the Keys. But, we now found ourselves in need. Phillip had been researching and talking to some marina supply folks in the area to see if we could find a local shop that carried a portable oil change kit. We were either going to have to pick one up there in St. Pete or down in Ft. Myers for sure. The cleanliness of the oil in the engine easily trumps the inconvenience of a big oil change tub on the boat.

Luckily, Phillip found a local marine supply shop in St. Pete that had one. And, since we had the afternoon off after our journey through the incredible world of Dali, we decided to venture out and get it. And, as it always seems, our ‘venture’ quickly became an ADventure.

As you know, we traveled to the sensational city of St. Pete by boat. Which means, when we venture away from the boat, we have to travel by foot, bike or cab for supplies and provisions. Sadly, Google maps steered us wrong that day and we ended up walking about eight miles to and fro across the city searching for an Auto Zone that no longer seemed to exist (at least not in the prior location). And, ignorant of the monumental trek we were about to make, this dumb mate wore a cute little pair of summer flip-flops that weren’t really up for the task:

I know, cute right? Perfect for the museum, noooot so much for the Million Mile March. These dogs were barking! About mid-way through the trek, I finally just kicked them off and resigned to sport some wicked Wal-Mart feet for the rest of the venture.

And, don’t pretend you don’t know what those are …

Yeah, I’m not afraid.

But, we did finally make it to the marine supply store. Wait … I’m sorry. Warehouse. The Marine Supply Warehouse. Yep. There it is:

A small door in a duplex with a sign that read:

Well, the Captain wasn’t afraid.

He marched right in there.

And, man, when they say warehouse … what they really mean is … 500 square feet and three aisles:

It was no West Marine, but they did have the oil change kit we needed and plenty of other boat goodies. And, while the Back Door Marine Supply Guy that ran the shop was pretty knowledgeable,

he’s one of those types that will always answer your question with a question:

Customer: “Hello, sir. We need an oil filter, a Puralator L30001. Do you have one?”

Supply Guy: “What are you going to use it for?”

Customer: “To change the oil on our boat.”

Supply Guy: “What kind of engine do you have?”

You see what I’m saying. It’s like you have to answer his three magical questions before he will grant you the wish of the product you’d like to purchase.

But, nice guy – after the inquisition – and he did hook us up with the oil change kit we needed, so he’s tops in my book. After the epic pilgrimage to his back door, though, it was clear there would be no more walking for this crew. The Captain called us a cab, which arrived a prompt forty-five minutes later (speedy!) and we hitched a ride back to the other side of town to pick up the oil and filter and some other provisions for the next passage.

“Auto Zone, please.”

Once we made it back to the boat, we were pleased to find the new oil pump fit nicely in a locker under the vberth. No more big, oily rubbermaid container for this crew. We now travel full-time with oil change kit in tow. So, the St. Pete pilgrimage really paid off. We checked the radar and forecast for the following day and decided we would head back out into the Gulf tomorrow and try to make the approximate 24-hour run down to Ft. Myers, this time, hopefully, without any sail issues.

We ventured out one last time to the downtown strip in St. Pete for some drinks and dinner.

I ordered up the namesake “Tryst” cocktail at the Tryst Gastro Lounge, a fun, up-scale contemporary bar on the downtown strip. Both the drinks and the atmosphere were superb.

We then enjoyed a hearty St. Pete last supper at the British Tavern, The Moon Under Water, which began, as any good British meal should, with a stout painkiller and a beer,

We then devoured a tabbouleh and lamb starter,

and polished it all off with a shepherd’s pie and fish and chips. This crew was going to be full (stuffed actually!) and well-rested for the trip tomorrow.

And, in case you didn’t know, a fun aside about the origin of the name “Moon Under Water”:

Accept the Queen’s Shilling by “fair means or foul” and you’re recruited into the British Army? And, they bury it in the bottom of a drink?! I would have been a goner for sure. I always make it to the bottom of a drink!

After several ‘bottoms,’ we made our way back to the boat and tucked in for the night. Having had our fill of downtown fun in St. Pete and feeling extremely lucky to have stumbled upon such a quick and affordable fix for our furling Jenny (thanks again Steve!), we were excited to get back underway.

“Phillip, do you hear that?”

“No, what is it?”

“It’s the Gulf calling. She wants us back.”

Hellooooo Dali!

June 6, 2014June 6, 2014anniedike

April 14-15, 2014:

After our visit with Walter White and his ingenious meth–od for fixing our Jenny, we were ready to get out and do some more exploring in St. Pete. There was some weather rolling through the Gulf that we knew we were going to have to wait out,

so we started planning our attack on the city! Like I said, the mooring field in the North Vinoy Basin is pretty sweet. It is maintained by the city, so showers, captain’s lounge and laundry facilities are just a short walk from the boat, and at $14/night, we were happy to spend some time having a ball on our ball!

There she is, nice and secure. Always waiting on us! We decided to shower up and hit the town. And, I have to say, thankfully, the showers at St. Pete are not too truck-stoppey.

They had a massive fan blowing in the bathroom that could pretty much blow-dry a sheep dog!

It was awesome. Just step out of the shower and *snap* you were dry.

Thumbs up for the fan! I was a big fan! (I know, I’m a comedic genius … you can thank me later) After working in the hot sun most of the day working on the Jenny, we decided a big, lavish Italian dinner was just the ticket. We hit up Bella Brava for some amazing margherita pizza and chicken marsala.

Not to mention an incredible bottle of Sangiovese. A new wine for me, and the beginnings of what I’m sure will be a life-long addiction. Sorry Phillip. But, he’s got a little addiction of his own …

Kilwin’s. “Two chocolate turtles, please.” But, while we certainly enjoyed the dinner and wine and sweet treats as we strolled through town that night, what we were really looking forward to checking out in downtown St. Pete was the Dali Museum.

It was right there off the main downtown strip. A complete shrine to one of the most significant artists of modern time, and it’s literally a five-block walk from our boat!

Have I said enough good things yet about mooring in St. Pete? Well, it bears repeating … So, the next day, we set out for the Dali Museum, which was certainly a highlight of our trip. Like many, I only knew him as the “melting clocks” guy going in,

but I was exposed to a mind-blowing array of massive (I mean 20 foot tall) paintings that Dali did that I found I could stand in front of and stare at for hours. Seriously. The “Lincoln” painting really blew me away. Up close, it’s big blocks and colors and a woman standing in front of a window, but then from 60 feet, it transforms into a portrait of Abe Lincoln.

I mean, how do you do that close-up? I tried to imagine how many times Dali must have stepped off of his scaffolding, walked back 60 feet only to walk back toward his painting to make one little brush stroke. His ability to create images from a distance was mind-boggling. He was mind-boggling!

Dali was like a mad scientist. Completely devoted to his craft, but just … out there. We got to learn some interesting history on him while we were there. My favorite was when he was expelled from the Art Institute. Apparently, when he came in to take his ‘final exams’, he simply told his instructors they weren’t “smart enough to test him.” Decidedly true — his talent was simply beyond comprehension. But with that snide comment, they sent him packing. Looking back on it, though, I’m not sure the man really needed the degree. He seemed to do just fine without it. I can’t say enough about his talents. If you haven’t checked out a Dali museum or watched a documentary or learned anything about him other than the “melting clocks” bit, I highly recommend exploring further. The last one I’ll mention is the “Matadore” painting – Phillip and I’s favorite. Again, another 20-or-so foot tall painting just littered with insane features. Take it in:

www.madamepickwickartblog.com/2010/06/the-bull-lies-down-on-broadway

First, I’ll ask if you can see the matadore (whose bust fills the full size of the frame but whose face and shoulders are made up of other individual items that, up close, do not compose a man’s face). Amazing! But, there were so many other aspects of this painting that amazed us when we really took the time to look at every small detail – the flies, the pond at the bottom with the sunbather, the tribute to Dali’s wife, Gala, in the upper left corner, the two capes of the matadore on his shoulders, (red and jeweled), not to mention the “invisible” dalmatian at the bottom:

www.edlieze.blogspot.com/2010/06/pattern-behind-self-deception.html

Do you see it?

Yeah, let’s just throw that in there at the end, as if that’s not a complete mind-blowing painting all it’s own, it’s just a tiny little add-on at the bottom of this Dali masterpiece. An after-thought, really. The Matadore really stole the show for us. But, the museum itself was incredible, too. Unique architecture and lighting.

A wonderful spanish-inspired cafe by the gift shop, Cafe Gala (named after Dali’s wife and life-long muse):

An aspiring heli-staircase leading up to the exhibits:

A hedge maze by the garden:

And, many other “melting” objects lying about, in tribute to Dali’s most notable work:

“Seating for two please, preferably in the non-melting section.”

And, they had a Warhol exhibit they were featuring while we were there that was really cool, too. Warhol was intriguing to say the least. Both artists lived and created in the extremes. They were radicals. They were rebels, and they pushed the boundaries of modern art.

I think I accurately captured his scowl!

They had some great Warhol pieces on display, and you could even shoot your very own Warhol screen shots. It was hard to hold still for that long, but the end result was pretty cool. I had a few that turned out alright, considering the subject matter.

In all, we had an amazing time at the Dali Museum. Still one of the most visually-fascinating displays we experienced on the trip and certainly a highlight. While stopping in St. Pete was not originally on the agenda, we were thankful, in the end, that things happened the way they did, because we will definitely go back. Isn’t that always the case, though? The wind just sort of takes you where you really need to go.

But, we stepped out of that surreal world into what seemed almost another. The wind was howling and the rain whipped around us as we sprinted back to the boat. It was clear we wouldn’t be doing any sailing that day. We planned our passage for tomorrow when the weather was expected to lay down. The rain cleared up that afternoon, and we decided to venture out to pick up a few boat items we needed for the trip. But, we had no idea we would be going from one radical to another. Dali in the morning, and the Back-Door Marine Supply Guy in the afternoon. Just wait …