Good Grub – Page 4 – Have Wind Will Travel

A “Sloppy” Sunset at Mallory Square

July 29, 2014anniedike

April 23, 2014:

It had been 20 days, 5 overnight passages and 550 nautical miles, a busted Jenny shackle, a beat-down outside of Charlotte Harbor, and we were finally here – KEY WEST. We were ready to take that town by the cahones! All hail the fighting conchs! And, it seemed fate wanted us there. She’d been expecting us. Because the minute we backed in to our slip at the A&B Marina, we had a buddy there to greet us – Postal Bob! No, not because he is – or had ever – gone “postal,” because he used to BE postal. Bob retired from the good ole’ USPS and now sails his 34 Catalina down to Key West and beyond every year. A sharp sailor, super generous and knowledgeable about the area, and just all-around a great guy. Here he is:

Bob was the perfect tour guide for our first steps off the boat. He showed us around the marina and gave us the inside scoop on the best dives, the coolest beach bars, the marina and the facilities (four free washers and dryers and four locking bathroom/shower suites) – Suite! He also made sure to point out the place where they serve 50-cent oysters at happy hour. I mean … is there really anything better? You’re right – a cocktail … perhaps:

That was certainly on our radar. We spruced up immediately and hit the closest food joint we could find – Alonzo’s Oyster Bar – not 100 yards from the boat!

“We’ll start with mojitos and your oyster platter, please.”

The oysters were delicious – they did them up three ways on the platter – rockefeller, baked with garlic and parmesan, and buffalo style. The mojitos weren’t too shabby either.

Cheers!

But, that was, of course, just for starters. I mean, we HAD been sailing for about 30 hours. We were ready for a full-on, three-course landlubber meal. The catch of the day – Mahi Mahi – done two ways – grilled with rice pilaf and garlic green beans, and

in a juicy wrap with fresh tomatoes and some secret Alonzo’s sauce – YUM!

Full of fish and rum, we were ready to explore! We found the famous conch train tour and decided it was probably the best way to get a good layout of the island right out of the gate and learn some interesting facts about the architecture, tourist attractions and history of the area.

All Aboard!

Our tour guide really cracked me up, though. He had the most smooth, buttery voice, and every old house or monument he pointed out in the town was “just lovely,” “divine” or “quite keen, don’t you think?” I would bet if someone lit themselves on fire on the back of the train and started jumping around, he would reply calmly, “Please be sure to contain your flames and exit carefully off the back of the train. Oh, and have a lovely day!” He cracked me up.

But, he was an excellent tour guide. Along the way, he showed us the Southernmost Point of the United States:

Hemingway’s House (that was definitely going on the list):

And some of the most picturesque houses on the island:

Once we had our bearings, we set out on foot and found Mile Marker Zero – the Southern End of U.S. Highway 1.

We also found some not-so-famous, but just-as-fun, monuments as well.

Oh my! Is that the REAL Marilyn, or are you just blowing smoke up my skirt?

Well, you know how us sailors like wind!

We walked to several end-points on the island just to admire the view of the coast.

It was particularly liberating looking out at the Southernmost Point – to look across the water and know the next dry shore was a-whole-nother country. Cuba! We had really brought our Niagara 35′ all the way to the southern tip of the United States. Certainly that was worth celebrating!

And, you know how the Crew of the Rest like to celebrate … that’s right. With a hearty drink! It was time to get sloppy!

We’d heard a lot about this place. Sloppy Joe’s Bar. It was apparently Hemingway’s Hangout back when he used to traipse around Key West, a sloshing drink in one hand and the wadded clutches of a fiesty chap’s collar in another. While we weren’t planning to get that sloppy (at least not yet!) we were hell-bent on stopping in to have one or two, or a few!

Sloppy’s was definitely our kind of salty, sea-bar place. It reminded me a lot of Pirate’s Cove down in our neck of the woods. You remember Jerry Garcia and the Riff-Raff?

We settled in nicely at the bar, and I found the “Sloppy Rita” suited me just fine.

And, Phillip had no qualms downing a pink drink!

Probably because this chick poured it:

How you doin’?

We had a great time hanging at the bar, watching the Key West wildlife and cheersing each other on making yet another successful passage. We ordered another round and then things got … well … a little sloppy:

Nice drunken pic!

Still upright and mobile, though, we decided to stumble on over to Mallory Square where the Captain knew they put on quite a carnie sideshow show every evening at sunset.

It reminded me a lot of Clearwater and the panty-dropping time we had there! It was literally just a few blocks from the boat:

With loads of street performers, tourists and lookie-loos. Total entertainment.

The sunset was “quite keen” as well:

It was a great first venture out in our new locale. Key West … What a sight! After watching the sun dip out of sight, we made our way back to the boat and decided to grill up the massive king mackerel we had caught on our way down there. You remember him:

What better way to honor the poor fish we’d ripped out of the Gulf than to haul him all the way to Key West and grill him up on our boat our first night there!

I guess you could call it a moveable feast!

The mackerel turned out excellent. The Captain grilled it to perfection and we just added a little butter and lemon. With fish that fresh, that’s really all you need. We crashed hard on the boat that night, thankful to have made the overnight passage safely to the Keys, and grateful to be, now, safe and secure at the dock, able to sleep through the entire night. No night shifts tonight! We had made it! And, tomorrow was going to be a big day for us. Day two on the island, Hemingway’s House on the agenda and a pretty significant leaf for the Captain to turn over. The big Four-Oh. So much in store!

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 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 …

A Room Without a Roof!

May 27, 2014anniedike

April 13, 2014:

Because we’re HAAPPEEEEYYY! Who wouldn’t be with this set-up in St. Pete? Fresh off the boat, we found ourselves right on the downtown strip. Lots of upscale bars and restaurants, a resort hotel and even a super swanky rooftop lounge. We spent our first night in St. Pete high on the town!

Jenny, what Jenny? That’s a problem for tomorrow! Enjoy the show:

Walking the downtown strip on Parkshore Drive.

Drinks at The Birchwood.

“How about a drink there First Mate?”

“Why, thank you Captain. Don’t mind if I do!”

Exquisite lobby and decor at the Vinoy Renaissance on the North Basin.

Beautiful banyan trees at the Waterfront Downtown Park.

Drinks and dinner at the Parkshore Grill.

Too bad we dug into dinner before this “foodie” could snap her shots. Whoops. But– take my word for it — it was awesome. A stacked juicy cheeseburger with hand-cut fries!

Clean plate club!

Drinks (yes, more!) this time at The Birchwood Rooftop Bar:

We could actually look out and see our boat there in the mooring field. Soooo cool.

See? You’d be happy too! We were definitely digging St. Pete. Not a bad place to be stuck for repairs. Not a bad place at all …

April 12, 2014 – Keys Log: Day 10 (Part Duex) – Jenn-AAAYYYY!!

May 18, 2014May 19, 2014anniedike

Apparently April showers do not bring May flowers on our boat. We had just popped back out into the Gulf out of Clearwater Pass, enjoying one of the best sails yet of our trip, when we were showered with ball bearings from above. Phillip and I gently made our way up onto the foredeck to try and figure out what in the heck on the boat had just totally busted. We each started picking up these little bronze looking balls on the way that were lying all over. It was clear they were bearings, but to what exactly? We inspected the drum at the base of the forestay that furls the Jenny.

She looked fine, but we could tell the bearings in the drum were the same type that had rained on the boat, so we figured it had to be the swivel shackle at the top. We knew we were going to have to let the Jenny down to have a look at it. Not a real problem, yet. Perhaps we could fix it … We were being optimistic.

Phillip started to uncleat the Jenny halyard at the mast to lower the Jenny, and I positioned myself on the foredeck, ready to grab and flake her as best I could while Phillip eased her down. But, there was no easing about it. As soon as Phillip uncleated the halyard and let just a little slack in it, our big, whopping (135%) Jenny all came toppling and tumbling down onto the foredeck. Wha-boom! Thankfully, she fell so quick, she landed all in a heap, and – more importantly – all on the boat. Whew!

We wrapped her up with the Jenny sheets and secured her on the foredeck.

And, she looked so sad there. All tied up in a ball on the deck … Instead of the bright-eyed, fresh-faced Jenny we saw in the early parts of Forrest Gump,

ours looked more like the strung-out, cocaine-snorting leaper she turned into.

Yep, that’s the one.

Our Jenny was totally busted.

Jenn-AAAAYYYY!

Unfortunately, the bad news just kept coming. We found the reason the Jenny had come all tumbling down at once when Phillip let some slack in the line was because the halyard shackle had come apart. There are two parts to the shackle that raises our Jenny: 1) the part that clips to the head of the sail and spins when the Jenny furls and unfurls, and 2) the part that clips to the halyard and remains still when the Jenny furls.

Hence the ball bearings in between. The really bummer part about what happened to our halyard swivel was that, when Phillip let just a little slack in the line, the shackle came apart – right about here –

and the part that attaches to the head of the sail came down, while the part that clips to the halyard stayed … Yep, you guessed it. At the top of the mast. Not ONE DAY later on this trip and we had another bloody halyard stuck up at the top of the mast. I mean …

We inspected the part of the shackle that had come down – the part that attaches to the head of the sail – and she did look to be in semi-working order, assuming the ball bearings were put back in.

We didn’t see any obvious crack or defect. But, we had no idea what the other piece that was still at the top of the mast looked like. It was clear there was going to be yet another mast ascension in this mate’s future to retrieve yet another halyard.

We began the troubleshooting process, which on our boat generally starts by whipping out what we call the “manuals bag” – an old canvas bag our previous owner kept on the boat that is filled to the brim with the owner’s manual to every single part and system on the boat. I’m telling you – manuals are key. Keep them (all of them!) and read them first when a system fails. It’s amazing what you’ll learn.

After a quick review of the manual for our Harken furling system, we were definitely of the opinion we had perhaps pulled the halyard up too tight when we raised the Jenny after having the UV cover re-sewn during our Keys preparations.

The halyard should be within the top 4″ of the foil, they said …

Snug but not too tight they said …

As if that can be determined with any kind of precision. (Insert frown here). But, we figured we had pulled her up too tight when we raised her, causing pressure on the joint between the part that attaches to the halyard and the part that attaches to the sail, resulting in the pop and shower when we were furling the Jenny. We certainly didn’t mean to, but it seemed we had caused the failure. Once we started to think it back through, though, we were actually surprised to find the two pieces of the shackle had somehow miraculously held together until the very moment we had decided to drop the sail, when we were ready for her to fall.

Can you imagine if the shackle had come apart in heavy winds, when the Jenny was under full load? The whole thing would have crashed into the water … Along with the Jenny sheets … And what if we had been motoring? And one of the sheets had caught in the prop? What if … When we actually started to think about it, we started to consider ourselves incredibly lucky that it had happened the way that it did. Perhaps Jenny was looking out for us after all. Maybe she does know what love is …

Once we had pretty much diagnosed the problem – we knew we no longer had a furling Jenny – we started working toward a solution. We started getting some of our cruising buddies on the horn to let them know what happened and get their thoughts. We were somewhat close to Punta Gorda, where our previous owner used to keep the boat, so Phillip also decided to call him to ask for a recommendation for a good marina in the area. He referred us to Embree Marine, where apparently they had done some work on our boat before. We called a few times, but unfortunately no answer. But, it was a Saturday, and we began to realize we likely weren’t going to be able to actually talk to anyone about repairs until Monday. And, to add just a little more dung to our already-heaping pile, Phillip did some research on our Harken furling system (checked their website and some sailing blogs) and found that the fine folks at Harken don’t make the halyard swivel for our furling system anymore. Apparently, ours was the Model 1 series, and they were now on like Model 7. There was the real possibility we were going to have to have a whole new furling system put on the forestay.

Like I said, when it rains, it pours …

But – you remember our motto for that day? If you don’t, let me remind you —

Wasn’t nothing gonna slow … us … down! Whoa-NO!

We had to keep on movin’! And, so we did. We knew we were going to have to pull out of the Gulf and into St. Petersburg for repairs. But, it was getting to be late in the afternoon, so we decided we would anchor for the night and make our way into Tampa Bay tomorrow. Phillip started checking the maps and the cruising guides, and we found Egmont Key. The cruising book described it with “tall palm trees, clear, and glistening waters, where couples stroll along the white beaches without a care.”

“Without a care … “ We could be that! Who needs a furling Jenny? I mean, really? Sailors have been hoisting their Jennies for hundreds of years. We were either going to get her repaired or hoist her the old-fashioned way. Let’s pull on into this anchorage, make us some dinner, and keep on enjoying this trip, shall we? We made it to a KEY! And it was gorgeous there. Sugar white sands, a beautiful old light house, crystal green water. It was perfect.

We dropped anchor and jumped in for the first swim of the trip!

“That’ll be two dollars, ma’am.”

Then we took a nice shower in the cockpit.

Ahhh …

Then it was cocktails at sunset.

Phillip waved to the cruise ships that were coming through Egmont Channel.

Then we cooked up some amazing crab cakes with red peppers and the Captain’s own homemade roumalaude sauce.

Yum!

And, called it a night. We’d deal with whatever the Jenny had in store for us tomorrow.

We were on anchor, nice and secure. Nothing could bother us now …

April 11, 2014 – Keys Log: Day 9 – For a Good Ride, Call Johnny N

May 11, 2014May 11, 2014anniedike

I will say, it took some time for both of us to come “down” from the epic mid-sea mast climb. That was something else. But, aside from the busted steaming light and lost gaff, we did have one good thing to come out of it. As we were detaching lines from my bosun’s chair and hooking everything back up, Phillip started looking at our busted lazy jack – the one of the starboard side that had snapped during our first night on passage.

And, he hatched the brilliant idea to raise it back up with staysail halyard. That pulled it back up pretty much exactly where it had been previously attached to the eyelet on the spreader.

The Captain’s real smart like that sometimes.

But, that’s one thing I have really learned to love about sailing. It’s all about improvising — learning your systems and, when something doesn’t work quite right or fails, knowing how to accomplish the same result using another system or a different method. Phillip read a story to me a long time ago by Cap’n Frank Papy from Sailing: Impressions, Ideas, Deeds that has always stuck with me. Apparently the guy was sailing a beat-up, broke-down, falling-apart boat from Jamaica to Ft. Lauderdale that was leaking from every orifice (think floating floorboards) and just when he was about to throw up his hands and throw in the towel, he thought about the engine. It’s constantly sucking raw water in to cool the engine, and then pumping it out – virtually a water-sucking machine, when you really think about it. So, Cap’n Papy closed the seacock, detached the raw water hose and ran it straight into his flooded bilge to both cool his engine and pump out the bilge. Blows my mind. And, while I know our lazy jack repair is decidedly “small-time” in comparison to Papy’s heroic hail-mary, it still reminds me that sailing is all about improvising, and it’s an incredibly rewarding and exciting challenge.

So, with our lazy jack back in action, and our sights set on Clearwater, we settled back in the cockpit for a nice morning sail.

And, I’ll tell you – they must call it Clearwater for a reason. That was the most crystal green water we had seen on the trip!

That is, until we handled our business …

But – good to know it’s all working correctly. That all systems are “a go,” am I right?

We even caught our first fish (plural) of the trip. Scared us both to death when the hand line popped fiercely over the rail. Both of us jerked up from our books, looking around wildly, thinking What the hell just happened? I’ll tell you, when something snaps loudly on the boat, it’s hard not to think the worst. What crucial piece of equipment just failed? It had happened to us during our last Gulf Crossing when the bolts on the dinghy davit bracket began to shear and pop off. Typically, a loud, unexpected pop in the cockpit is not a good thing … So, needless to say, we were both relieved when we found it was just the trolling line. Whew! Just a fish on! Reel her in!

It was a decent little king mackerel. We caught two that morning. But, they were pretty small – probably not worth the mess of cleaning – so we threw them back. We made our way into Clearwater Pass around 1:30 p.m. and started to ease our way in. Now, as most of you may be, we (well, Phillip, actually – he’s the primary helmsman) is an avid user of Active Captain, and he had seen on there that there was some shoaling in the channel after you come under the bridge. Knowing that, he made a wide turn to try to avoid it and unfortunately (we think) he found the shoaling on the other side. The boat lurched to a stop and we knew immediately we’d run aground. I hate that feeling! There’s no mistaking it. But, Phillip was quick to act. He threw it in reverse, had me hang way over the portside lifelines to lean the boat over and we were able to ease off pretty quickly. Thank goodness! And, it was a good lesson in how to respond quickly to get the boat moving again. A lesson that would come in mighty handy later.

Needless to say, after that small scare, I was all nerves and eager to get our boat docked up securely and settled in for the night. Now, the last time we pulled into Clearwater when we first bought the boat and were bringing her back from Punta Gorda, FL, we had 20-knot winds on our stern and two corn-fed Larry-the-Cable guys holding our bow off the dock.

Yeah, it gave me heartburn too, Larry.

We were not in any kind of mood to repeat that scene this time. So, I was thrilled to see when we pulled up to the fuel dock that they had courtesy lines, already pre-set at just the right length and ready to toss to you for tying up, which was awesome. No docking debacles today! We eased on in, filled up, docked up and gave that boat a good scrub-down! She was in sure need of it.

As were we. We showered up, dressed up, made a few cocktails to-go, and decided to hit the town!

We ventured out and reminisced on some of the finer establishments and questionable joints we had stumbled upon last time we were here. You may remember this little greasy spoon we ate at last time where I bought my delightfully tacky big-boob t-shirt to memorialize the visit.

Ahhh … the memories!

We decided to try a new place for dinner, though, so we checked the old Trip Advisor to see what the locals were rating “the best.” One of the top hits was this little middle eastern place called Mana Mana. We certainly hadn’t had any good middle eastern food yet on this trip and probably wouldn’t for a while, so Mana Mana was right up our alley. We began walking to town and hailed a taxi on the way. And, it was a good thing, because the restaurant turned out to be about five or six miles away and we were already pretty beat by then. We’d certainly worked up an appetite, though. Phillip and I ate ourselves absolutely sick! Mana Mana turned out to be a little hole-in-the-wall looking place, with a concession stand order board, walk-up counter, and just a handful of tables scattered about.

We were a little skeptical at first, but when we started to smell the food and see what he was dishing up, we knew we were in for a real treat. The guy running the place was really great, too. A true small-business owner. He made all of the food himself, was eager to serve us up some of his own authentic Israeli Middle Eastern specialties and even bring us a few extra treats and sides that we didn’t even order. And, the food was incredible. I got the falafel – perfectly seasoned chick-peas balls smothered in tahini sauce.

Phillip ordered the shawarma beef, which was equally delicious.

Both dishes were amazing. Within ten minutes, Phillip and I had eaten every last morsel on our plates.

The Clean Plate Club strikes again!

We were both satiated. Probably a little too full, but it was totally worth it. And, it turned out, rather than a cab, we had managed to score a personal driver for the evening. We found while we were checking out that our cabbie had decided to eat at Mana Mana as well and he was sitting there waiting on us to finish to drive us back home. And, it’s a darn good thing, too, because I don’t think Phillip and I could have walked more than a few steps. We were stuffed!

“Want a ride back?” says the cabbie.

“Don’t mind if I do!” the Captain replies.

Johnny N they call him.

We decided the “N” was for Nitro! Yeah buddy!

We had Johnny N take us to the CVS by the marina so we could stock up on supplies – water, milk, coffee, OJ, paper towels. Just a few basics. We savored the last burning embers of the sunset on the way back to the boat,

and then crashed hard. After a mid-sea mast climb, two fish on the line, an inadvertent run aground and a big, filling middle eastern feast, the Captain and I were beyond exhausted. The plan was to jump out the next morning back into the Gulf and make our way down to Charlotte Harbor. Our buddy who was sailing with his son down to the Keys was anchored around there at Cayo Costa, and we were hoping to catch up with him to make the jump to the Keys together. That was the plan anyway. Almost a meaningless term on a sailboat …