crow’s nest marina – Have Wind Will Travel

Close Encounters of the Gulf Kind

November 11, 2014November 19, 2014anniedike

May 4-5, 2014:

With 4-6 foot seas, a steady 17-20 knots of wind pushing us in, and our bow doing a nice ‘figure eight‘ motion in and around the Venice inlet, we made our way in. The Captain did a phenomenal job holding a steady line and making his way between the two rocky jetties on either side. No small feat considering the boat that had traversed before us, ended up like this.

Shaken and stirred, and most definitely ON THE ROCKS! That is such a terrible sight to see. I kept imagining the keel digging in between rocks with each passing swell, with paint and flecks of fiberglass grinding off. Uhhhh … Still makes me cringe just thinking about it. Thankfully, we passed through the inlet unscathed and got our boat safely docked back in the slip at Venice. While we had been excited to head out that day and we would have loved to have made the passage to Clearwater that night instead of coming back to Venice, the rough sea state and boat beating on the rocks of the inlet made us incredibly thankful to have our boat safe and secure. One more day wasn’t really too much to give up, particularly when it meant the difference between a rough and potentially treacherous passage across the Gulf as opposed to a predicted smooth one. Schedules are a sailor’s worst enemy. So, having docked our boat once more and resigned to staying another night, we did what any good mariners would do, and went to see what the status was with the boat on the rocks! And, I have to tell you … it was not pretty.

While I’m sure the keel was stuck, the hull on the side was also in contact with the rocks, beating against them with each mild wake and letting out a gut-wrenching, nails-on-the-chalkboard kind of metallic groan when it did.

There was a pretty good group gathered on the shore watching this poor sailor, but there was little that could be done. Nobody seemed to know much and the guess was that he lost his steering or engine power somehow as he was coming in. Of all the luck … But, it seemed the worst of it wasn’t over for this poor bloke, because soon Sheriff Willingham showed up!

Or, at least that’s what I assume his name was. He looked like a Willingham. He seemed to keep asking the pitiful Captain for his “papers” – for towing I assume, but perhaps registration, insurance, who knows? And, everyone was just gathered around staring at his guy. I felt so bad, I stood there and not only stared, but filmed the whole thing too!

See, once again, I almost could have gotten myself arrested trying to capture this tale! Such a dangerous sport, this blogging!

It was a beautiful afternoon in Venice, though, with lots of entertainment at the jetty.

We even got to see one of those weird pre-evolution snail-like things I’ve been going on and on about up close and personal! A nice, young bloke (a.k.a, your average pre-teen American redneck boy) fished one out of the water in his baseball cap and showed it to the crowd.

It was a little shy at first (all closed up),

until another nice young dame (a.k.a. your average pre-teen American redneck gal) fished it right out of his hat and started rolling it around in her hands telling the crowd — “It’s a conch. I’ve seen ’em before.”

Mmmhhh-Hmmmm … a conch without its shell. That little snail thought so highly of her characterization that he peed purple all over hands.

Nice. Then she proceeded to shriek and scream and sling it all over the crowd, including Phillip and his perfectly white shirt. Even nicer.

In all, it was a great “show” at the Venice jetty that afternoon. After taking in the show, Phillip and I finally sauntered back to our boat and were sipping cocktails in the cockpit when we saw the tow boat coming to get the struggling sailboat off of the rocks.

I’m sure it was a bad day for that fella, but, Phillip and I both acknowledged as we watched him pass by, that it’s happened to others before him and it will happen to others after. While we certainly hope it never happens to us, seeing it in person was a good reminder that it is entirely possible. Something can always go wrong with the boat, and it’s just as likely to happen when you’re coming in to a rocky inlet as when you’re in the middle of the Gulf, a safe distance from any rocks, docks or other detrimental obstacles for the boat. It is totally possible that could have been us out there on the rocks. Thankfully it wasn’t, and hopefully it never will be (knock on wood), but it was nice to see he was still afloat, being safely towed to a dock and that, aside from a costly bottom job repair, he and the boat were both going to survive it. At the very least, he could be thankful for that and admire the gorgeous sunset that was falling over the inlet.

Phillip and I enjoyed another dinner at the Crow’s Nest Tavern that night and talked of the next day’s passage. Because of our failed start that day and our extra night in Venice, we were technically one day behind schedule (if we even wanted to admit we had such a thing on this trip). So, I decided to pitch another idea …

Instead of making the passage tomorrow to Clearwater to stay the night and then make the big jump across the Gulf to Carrabelle,

what if we left out of Venice tomorrow and headed straight for Carrabelle?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Phillip said.

It was certainly worth a thought. The weather prediction was great. The seas were supposed to lay down. We were expecting a nice 10 knot breeze out of the North or Northwest. So, rather than the approximate 16-18 hour trip we were planning to Clearwater, why not try to make the approximate 40-hour trip all the way to Carrabelle. Go ahead and make the big leap? Why not? We had made about a 44-hour trip from Pensacola to Port St. Joe our first passage out of the gate on this trip and, while that was tiring, it was certainly doable. So … we decided to go for it. It was Carrabelle or bust!

May 5, 2014:

The next morning, we readied the boat (again), checked the fluids and headed out around 10:00 a.m.

See ya!

The seas were in much better shape this time. Whew! Unfortunately, the wind was right on our nose, so we had to motor quite a bit throughout the day, but we spent a beautiful day out in the Gulf. Man, what a difference a day makes.

We even had a whole fleet of fun little mammals come and visit us at the bow!!! They swam with us for about 10 minutes, flipping and flicking and rolling around up there. It’s true! That’s no …

I snapped a whole roll of them! (And, by roll, I mean approximately 34 iPhone pics – give or take). Notice the occasional thumbs and fingers in the shot. Very artistic …

But, it was rocking and rolling and if there’s one thing I do NOT want to drop while up at the bow … it’s my phone. So, grip it or lose it. I did manage to get some fun footage though:

And, lookie there! A real …

With the wind on our nose, we had to motor most of the morning. Around mid-afternoon, we decided to try and do some sailing, if at the very least, to give the engine a break. The tacks we had to make were so wide, though, that we were sure we were losing ground. We did some research and calculations of our velocity made good (VMG) to try and determine what speed we were actually making along our rhumb line. A little sailing knowledge for you:

So, let’s say (just to make it easy), your heading is 90 degrees, dead east, but the wind is coming directly on your nose, so to make way along your heading, you have to tack back and forth into the wind. Let’s assume, when you tack, the highest point at which you can hold the wind is 50 degrees off your course, either 40 degrees ENE or 140 degrees SSE.

VMG is the speed you’re actually traveling along your rhumb line (90 degrees) by tacking back and forth at 40 degrees and 150 degrees. You can use a VMG chart to determine what speed you are actually making along the 90 degree axis by using the speed you are making along the tack lines (the 40 and 140).

If you find that the speed you’re making along your rhumb line (using the VMG table) by tacking back and forth is less than the speed you are making just motoring directly into the wind, then it may be best just to continue motoring. We found this to be true in our case. We were doing about 4 knots motoring into the wind and on tack (about 50 degrees off), we were only achieving about 3.5 knots, where according to the table we would have to reach 6.2 knots on tack to achieve VMG. So, we decided to continue motoring, but we did enjoy learning the VMG tables and working the calculations. I mean – don’t you feel just a little bit smarter now?

You can thank me later. It never hurts to learn something new, and one of the great things about sailing is that you always seem to learn something new – every passage, every docking, every trip. We cranked back up and continued pumping on into the evening.

We made coffee right around dusk and curled up in the cockpit to enjoy the sunset.

There she goes!

There’s something so freeing about watching that bright pink ball sink beneath the horizon. Sometimes it can give you a little chill because you know you’re about to be faced with darkness, unable to see the horizon and barreling forward into the unknown for hours on end. But, a big part of that is also exhilarating. You’re about to forge into the darkness, with no horizon in sight, trudging for hours on end into the great unknown. It’s equally exciting and spine-tingling. And, this night was no different. While we have experienced quite a bit in the middle of the Gulf, we faced something that night that we had not yet seen before.

An eerie glow in the Gulf …

Was it another ship? A wayward, bobbing booey? Some mysterious glowing trajectory from a passing UFO … ??

Who knows. But, it kept inching toward us seemingly oblivious to anything in its path …

Provisioning for Passage with “Broccoli Crappola”

November 4, 2014November 4, 2014anniedike

May 2-4, 2014:

While they were certainly barreling into the slip, it turned out the “Coming in Hot!” boys didn’t really need our help. About half-way into the slip, the skipper threw it in reverse full throttle and nudged right up to a piling on the starboard side with just the slightest ‘squeak’ and they were in. It was incredibly impressive. He handled that 30′ sailboat like it was a Sea Doo. They offered their thanks and waved us off, and Phillip and I set back to our main mission – DINNER. It was our second night in Venice, and after hob-knobbing and indulging ourselves the night before in the fine-dining atmosphere on the second floor of the Crow’s Nest Marina restaurant …

we decided to get back to our roots this time and slum it with the rest of the salty sailors on the bottom floor of the restaurant – the Tavern. And, what an experience …

They had this guy there playing live music. He appeared to have a little Middle-Eastern influence and just the slightest hint of a lisp. Strange combination, I know, but it gave his vocals this raspy, soulful quality. And, the guitar he was playing had like six strings on each side – a total of 12 – and he seemed to use every single finger on both hands to pluck each one of them. He was captivating. Here – see for yourself:

Good stuff, right? He was awesome. And, in between sets, he liked to play trivia with the audience – real old school music history stuff. Like, who wrote the first version of that song? What band did he originally play with? Way beyond my time, but several folks would call out answers and he would rip them a new one if they were wrong – all in good fun. He was quite entertaining. But, he didn’t turn out to be the actual entertainment. I hope you noticed in the video, the guy that was sitting with his back right next to us. The one the nice waitress had to ask “Sir, could you please scoot your chair forward so we can get by with the food?” If not – watch it again. Because, THIS guy was truly entertaining.

You’ll notice his clapping off-beat at the beginning of the video (when it’s not really a “clapping” kind of song if you know what I mean). We’d been watching him since we sat down. A real, attention-seeking fellow, that man, on the verge of belligerence. First, he tried to hit on a gal sitting next to him (who was with a male companion might I add) and that didn’t pan out. He then tried to guess one of the trivia questions, which also didn’t pan out. And, just when he had finally quieted for a moment, the waitress came by and kindly asked him to scoot his chair forward, stirring the nest all over again. He was offended … to the core. After she walked by, he threw his hands up in disgust and loudly protested. “What am I supposed to do, Gary? Sit like this??” he practically shouted to the guy sitting two feet from him as he scooched his beanpole chest all the way up to the table and hunkered over his food in a dramatic over-exaggeration. “I mean, what does she expect?” Wow. He repeated his scooch and hunker-down show every time the waitress came by and loudly pushed his chair back out in rebellion after she’d passed back by, his arms folded over his chest in a snooty pout. It was the adult equivalent of a tantrum, and … to our pleasant surprise – wildly entertaining. Don’t you just love people??

In any event, we thoroughly enjoyed the soulful music, rustic atmosphere and “live entertainment” at the Crow’s Nest Tavern that night. We ordered up a raw dozen, some rich escargot, a delicious bahn mi sandwich and an insanely-huge piece of Oreo cheesecake.

De-lish! Needless to say, we didn’t last long after that meal …

May 3, 2014:

We woke the next morning to another Lion King quality sunrise. NaaaaaaaasuhWHENya … Okay, I won’t go through it again. But, it was gorgeous coming up over Bird Island.

This time it was Phillip’s turn to take the sunrise session and get his African chant on while he paddled the coves and inlets around the marina.

We had been watching the storm in the Gulf, and it appeared the sea state was going to lay down enough to let us head out tomorrow for Clearwater. So, with a passage on the horizon, we set our sights on provisioning the boat. We had a good bit of hearty root vegetables on the boat (sweet potatoes, carrots, onions, etc.) that needed eating, so we decided to make a big pot of sweet potato chili. (It also rained most of the morning, so what better way to pass the time than cook up a big pot of soup!) We tried this recipe initially before we even got our boat, when we were just cooking out of galley cookbooks for fun – only dreaming of what we would actually make when we were on an actual passage, in our actual BOAT! And, we first made it on passage when we were sailing the boat back from Punta Gorda, FL where we purchased it in April, 2013. There we go!

While the chili was a hit amongst the crew initially, we did receive some complaints later from one disgruntled crew member — the infamous Mitch. (Let me just say I spared you some of the more disgusting details about our initial crossing) and suffice it to say that the man thoroughly enjoyed the chili going in — not so much coming out. And, when I was faced with the remnants he had left for me in the head, he boldly blamed the “Broccoli Crappola” we had fed him for dinner …

It was sweet potato chili.

Not a single stalk, leaf or floret of broccoli in it.

But, to this day, the Captain and I still lovingly call our sweet potato chili “Broccoli Crappola” in memoriam. Ahhh … Mitch. You gotta love that man. Since we had all the necessary ingredients already,

we went ahead and made a big batch of it for easy re-heat during passage.

This chili is great because the ingredients for it (basically carrots, sweet potato, onions, black beans, chopped tomatoes) are incredibly hearty and will hold until you’re ready to make it. It’s easy, cheap, delicious and filling. What more do you need on a boat? Recipe here. And, since we’d made a huge batch, there was plenty for us to have a bowl that day for lunch.

Did I mention the cheap part? Venice was certainly burning a hole in our budget …

In the afternoon, we headed over to the marina to do some laundry and clean up and – of all the people – guess who we ran into? Yep! The “Coming in Hot!” boys. As you recall, they were occupying the slip right next to us, so we, of course, as a result of natural marina curiosity, had watched them emerge from their boat around 10:30 that morning, stretch and moan and scratch some things, and head to shore. We recognized them when we came into the laundry area and struck up a conversation. And – it’s always fascinating the kind of people you meet when you travel. So the Captain was in his mid to late thirties, a tech guy, who was on a two-year sabbatical, traveling the world. He had been to the UK, India, Thailand, you name it. He met his soon-to-become First Mate, Will, while riding a train in India. They became fast friends and decided to travel the world together. Their first plan was to buy a bus and convert it into a hostel but they claimed they “got drunk one night and bought a sailboat instead.” And, here they were. In Venice, FL. Not an ounce of sailing knowledge between them and they were just figuring it out as they went. Sure explains the “Coming in Hot!” bit and the dilapidated boat. But, they had an infectious sense of adventure and infinite charisma. Great, great guys. We chatted with them for a while and decided to have a drink or three at the tavern while our clothes were spinning. A quick clean-up and an inspection of the arm confirmed what I already knew – it was still attached and still looked … awesome. It had graduated from elephantitis to jaundice with a nice yellow hue and still maintained a distinct “squishy” feel throughout. … Nice.

They were airing the Kentucky Derby at the Tavern and offering themed drinks (mint juleps and Pim’s cups), Derby swag giveaway and a big prize for the lucky customer who guessed the winning horse.

It was a fun atmosphere and we had no problem plopping down for some cocktails, calamari, a sensational burger and quesadillas. Yum!

With the laundry taken care of, and a big pot of chili ready for passage the next day, we curled up for a quiet movie night on the boat and made a list of the non-perishables (milk, OJ, eggs, creamer and the like) that we would need to pick up in the morning before heading out to Clearwater. We figured it would be about an 15-18-hour passage (approximately 70 nautical miles assuming an average 4-or-so knot speed), so we planned to leave early in the afternoon in hopes of making it to Clearwater the following morning. Like I said, we always try to plan to come into pass in the daylight – even if we’ve been through that pass before. Even familiar passages are more treacherous at night.

May 4, 2014:

Another beautiful sunrise in Venice. No surprise there. (No Lion King chants this time – lucky you).

A brisk morning walk around the docks revealed plenty more of those weird snail-like evolutionary creatures that we had come across in Ft. Myers.

I captured some more fascinating footage for you of their signature flap-swim stroke:

You’re welcome. And, you’ll be glad to know I spared you the Australian-accented nature documentary commentary that Phillip had to endure during the first three filmings: “The snail flaps furiously through the treacherous waters as the sun rises over head … ”

We decided to get another advantageous use out of the free bike rentals at the marina to make our run to the store. Venice was a very clean, friendly, accommodating marina, but a little on the pricey side, so we were trying to limit our last Venice adventures to free bike rides and chili bowls. Another picturesque cruise through downtown Venice, though. The tree-lined streets are perfect for biking of a leisurely stroll.

And, there was a Publix right in the heart of downtown – just a quick bike ride from the boat.

Good thing we had baskets on the front for the groceries!

Tis me!!

And, I didn’t crash!! (this time). Funny thing was, when we came back to the boat, it seemed we had somehow missed the invite for the party!

There were boats, dinghies, floaties, redneck yachts and coolers all around our boat!

Apparently, Saturdays at Snake Island can get pretty wild! While we would have loved to have hung around with the redneck crew, we had a Gulf passage calling us. It was around 1:00 pm, and we were hoping to get underway before 2:00pm to ensure a morning entry into Clearwater.

We packed the boat, checked the weather one more time, and headed out!

We were expecting 10-15 mph winds out of the NNE, and a 2-4 ft sea state, which would have been a little rough but bearable. When we made our way out of the inlet, however,

we were faced with NW winds (the exact direction we were going) of 17-20 mph and swells of 4-5 ft. It was a very rough sea state.

Some swells appeared to be about six feet. The boat would heel back and climb over them and the wave would swallow the horizon behind the boat as we barreled down it.

We were averaging 0.5 to 1.7 kts – the epitome of beating to windward. After about three hours of this we had collectively decided we were miserable. We were barely making way beating into the wind in a sea state that was working against us too. The forecast was off. It could improve, but it was anybody’s guess as to when. If we continued to ride it out, we could end up stuck in miserable conditions for 24 more hours just to make it to Clearwater tomorrow. We had learned that patience in timing passages makes all the difference. There was no need for us to rush to Clearwater, particularly not in this horrendous fashion. We decided to wait 30 minutes or so and if nothing changed to turn back and wait for better conditions. And, as you can likely guess … nothing changed. Just thirty more minutes of making 0.7 knots into the wind. Having covered approximately 6 miles of our estimated 70-mile trip over the course of four hours, we decided to call it. We hadn’t even made it far enough away from shore to lose sight of it, so turning back wasn’t too much of a stretch. And, the minute we turned around, it seemed the entire weather system changed. It’s amazing how forceful and threatening the wind can feel when it’s coming on your nose only to have it turn into a light breeze when it’s coming on your stern. We now had big, beautiful following seas and were averaging 5.5 knots easy back to shore. While the six miles out took us four hours to cover, coming back only took an hour and a half. But, the seas were still kicked up, 4-5 foot swells had the boat rocking and rolling toward the inlet. And, you remember what I said about the inlet at Venice — very narrow:

And, very rocky:

The bow of the boat was swaying and rolling in an elegant motion, but only briefing passing at times the mark for the entry of the inlet. Imagine finding a sight for your target in the scope of your rifle, then trying to hit it while making a figure 8 with the barrel of your gun. Phillip and I both tensed when we realized how tricky it was going to be to steer the boat in between those two severely rocky shoals. The only good news was the closer we got, the wider the inlet seemed, but that also meant we were closer. Closer to the rocks and the jetty and the waves crashing on shore. And, just as we were nearing the entry, we saw another sailboat pitching and bouncing on the rocky shore. We weren’t sure at first if it was on the rocky shoal or just extremely close, but as we neared the inlet, we could tell. The boat had run hard aground on the rocks, the hull smashing into them again with every incoming wave.

“As if I need a visual reminder of what could happen if we don’t get this right,” Phillip said in solace, shaking his head and staring ahead, trying to keep the “figure 8” motion of our bow within the realms of the rocky inlet.

They’re Coming in HOT!!

October 28, 2014October 28, 2014anniedike

May 2, 2014:

Naaaaaaaaa-suhWENya! WanaBEEzeewhen-aaahhhh! Okay, you probably have no idea what I’m trying to replicate here (but if you do – five gold stars!).

We rose the next morning before sunrise. The sky was choked at first with soft, billowing blue clouds, covering every inch of the space overhead with only one sliver of light growing in the east. As the sun rose, the blue canopy began to dissipate and everything turned a fiery shade of pink.

Now you’ll understand — Naaaaaaaaa-suhWENya! WanaBEEzeewhen-aaahhhh!

I went for a sunrise paddle that morning – left before the sun rose, and watched it taint the sky as it climbed the horizon. I felt like I was the center of the Circle of Life! Everything seemed to open, bloom and awake around me and change from a dusky blue to a golden pink.

Pelicans were swimming and flying right along side of me.

Hey whenyahhna. Hey, heywhenyahhhna …

The water was rippled pink, purple and blue and the only sound I could hear was my paddle dipping in and out of the water. (Well, other than the African Lion King chants I was wailing in my head).

Hey whenyahhna. Hey, heywhenyahhhna …

And then I emerged!

“THE CIIIIRRRR-CUUULLL OF LIFE!!”

Okay, it wasn’t that dramatic in reality. I just pulled up to the boat.

Hello Beautiful!

But, it was an intensely serene sunrise paddle. Such a beautiful area right around our boat to tool around in.

I paddled around Bird Island. I didn’t know – then- that the other was called Snake Island, but I’m glad, now, that I avoided it! Since it was our first day in a new port, we decided to what any good adventurer would do … get out and explore! We walked around the boat a bit and checked out the cool rock jetty (Venice Inlet) that leads out into the Gulf – knowing we would be headed out that way in just a few days.

We noticed it was both (1) very narrow:

and (2) very rocky:

A bit of a bad combination for entry and exit in a boat, particularly in rough seas. The sea state was still kicked up with the storm rolling in to Clearwater, so we knew we would be hunkering down in Venice for at least a day or two. But, I tell ya, it wasn’t a bad place to be! We had the boat nice and secure at an excellent marina,

and we had attracted some friends around the boat.

And the jetty, inlet and Gulf waters were beautiful. Lots of folks came out it seemed to eat lunch, sit and read, and just hang out around the jetty. Excellent walking/meander grounds.

But, like I said — we were ready to explore! A little further than what was achievable on foot. So, remember the free bike rental I mentioned at Crow’s Nest Marina for marina guests?

Suh-weet! We checked us out a free pair and set to it!

The area around the jetty was really nice, and it was a perfect sunny day for a bike ride, so we decided to make a day of it. We biked … all … over!

Adorable little condos and townhouses by Crow’s Nest. Many of them had stairwells up to the roof where they had set up a little sunbathing area on top of their house!

Quaint shaded streets and light traffic made for perfect neighborhood cruising among HUGE banyan trees.

I almost crashed five times trying to look up at the Spanish Moss. Well, I take that back, I almost crashed several times because I’m just well, accident prone, and I was shooting while biking, AND I’m a blonde. So, I had a lot working against me. But, I somehow managed to stay upright. The biking was actually excellent exercise for the knee which still had a little pain and a pop, but was improving daily. We found an excellent public beach access that appeared to be the perfect place to set up for kiting if we got some favorable winds while we were there.

We actually met a kiter who was out there setting up that morning and chatted him up for a bit.

He told us the thermal winds in that area were usually pretty steady, meaning you couldn’t trust the wind prediction. It was always off. Good to get the local wind scoop!

Wind scoop …

Get it??

We rode our bikes all the way to town!

Tis me!

Annnd, I didn’t crash taking that shot either! You’re welcome.

We found this awesome 1950’s throw-back trinket shop – Nifty Nic Nacs!

So true …

Take an old photo, put a funny caption on it and BOOM! I just love these things!

Apparently, the shopkeep didn’t LOVE my love of them, though. He totally busted me for taking photos of his stuff. Sorrryyy! It’s just cause it’s such cool stuff! The lengths I go to to capture our adventures for you all … I could have been arrested!

Having biked all morning, we set our sights on lunch. A little research told us this Blue Island Bistro was the hot lunch spot in Venice, and boy were they right!

Quaint little bistro atmosphere overlooking the hotel pool.

A pile of hand-made shoestring onion rings, three chicken, avocado and lime salsa tacos and a piled-high pork & coleslaw sandwich later, and Phillip and I could barely walk, much less pedal! It took us a while to roll out of our seats and ease back onto our bikes to make the trek back to the marina, but it was totally worth it. That was a mighty tasty lunch!

We had good timing, too, because just as we made our way back to the boat, we got to see first-hand what that storm that was headed to Clearwater looked like. Our marina was haunted with looming grey clouds and dark horizons.

We hunkered down in the boat for a bit to wait for the storm to pass.

I actually love being on the boat when a storm comes through. Granted, I don’t want to be buried in a wicked thunderstorm, but it’s a neat feeling to be on your boat, on the water, out in the middle of a torrential downpour, but you’re dry and secure, watching it all first-hand. It’s kind of like getting a cozy, front-row seat to some of Mother’s Nature’s most amazing displays. And, our boat needed the rinse, so we were fine to let it pour, pour, pour!

I tell you one thing that rain didn’t clean, though, was the paddle board! Remember the new “friend” we had made at the marina? The one I thought was so cute because he was hanging on our dock line? I had been snapping shots of him that morning, telling Phillip “Look, Phillip, we’ve got a little buddy!” Awww … how cute!

Well, he turned out to be a real shitty friend, that bird! He used our paddle board as his own personal hunting perch and he SHAT all over it!

That terd! It took some serious industrial scrubbing to get it clean!

But, we got it clean, and cleaned ourselves up as well. The previous night, we had fine-dined at the swanky top floor of the Crow’s Nest Marina restaurant, so this time we decided to check out the casual, cozy tavern on the bottom floor.

I required some serious industrial cleaning as well after the foul fowl discharge clean-up! But, I think I turned out alright. You can’t see the elephant arm at all! We mozied around the marina a bit to check out this huge fishing boat that had pulled in for quick cover during the flash storm.

And, just as we were walking the docks, checking the boat out, we saw this other sailboat come flying in. The boat would easily qualify as a “work-in-progress.” It had big, brown paint patches in places, no lifelines to speak of and a few buckets and board planks lying around on deck. The boat made a quick u-turn near the fishing boat where we were standing and then started on a beeline back toward our boat – just hauling through the marina (which always makes you nervous). It’s like watching a car up ahead on the interstate swerving and screeching around. You’re either going to ease back and stay out of the way, or floor it when you pass them to make sure they don’t careen into you. But, the problem was, we weren’t on the boat! Meaning, we had no way of getting our boat out of harm’s way. We both craned our necks up and watched with tight-lip frowns as the blazing boat made a quick turn into the slip right next to us (not on us, at least). Whew! It was clear they weren’t going to hit our boat, but they were still barreling into the slip, headed straight for the dock. Phillip and I both started running toward their bow as one of the crew on the fishing boat shouted:

“THEY’RE COMING IN HOT!!”

Open Says-a-Me!

October 22, 2014October 22, 2014anniedike

May 1, 2014:

That’s right. May. We finally made it to MAY. Phillip and I both couldn’t believe we had spent an entire month on the boat and it had felt like only a couple of weeks, a few days at the most! Time was flying and our trip, it seemed, was slipping by faster than we would have liked. But, I’m sure it always feels that way. You never really want to go back … once you start going! But, sadly, we had jobs and meetings and all sorts of other obligations calling us back to Pensacola, so we needed to start making way that way. Although our original plan had been to make our way up along the coast to Clearwater before we jumped back across the Gulf to Carrabelle, considering our engine situation (one drip approximately every 10 seconds) and reports we had heard of storms rolling into Clearwater, we decided to motor up the ICW to Venice to shave a little off of our trip to Clearwater and closely monitor our engine in the safety of protected waters.

We would then make the Gulf crossing we had now made three times back from Clearwater to Carrabelle. It would be the last BIG crossing of the trip.

And, as you may recall, the last time we made this passage, from Clearwater to Carrabelle, we beat into 30 hours of rough weather and seas and had to hack off our dinghy in the middle of the crossing.

The really mind-blowing thing was, though, that she made her way across the entire Gulf alone and ended up in Ft. Walton, where we reclaimed her. This time, thankfully, we had opted for an inflatable dinghy, which was stowed safely below, so, assuming good weather, we were hoping to have a smoother passage. But, that was the next leg. We set our sights first on Venice via the ICW. Now, recall we still had a dripping dripless, although it was relatively minor, and a fluky manual bilge pump which we attributed to a cracked pump hose. So, our first mission that morning was to retrieve the replacement hose we had ordered at the Gasparilla Marina and make sure our manual bilge pump was working. That was the mission anyway …

I will say, it was a beautiful area around Gasparilla for walking, biking, canoeing, and

they had a very friendly staff at the marina, happy to sell us any type of hose we wanted. Cha-ching! Unfortunately, though, the new hose didn’t fix our manual bilge pump problem. Even after feeding the new hose from the pump at the cockpit down to the bilge, we still couldn’t suck the last bit of water out. It seemed the pump wasn’t sucking very well. It kind of sucked at sucking, I guess you would say …

But, our electric bilge pump was working fine, our manual pump was only kind of sucky and our thirsty Thirsty Mate, that trusty ole’ chap, was working great. Super suckage. So, we decided to go for it. We tossed the lines, had a friendly lad at the dock help us ease out (hence – no docking debacle this time!) and headed up the ICW toward Venice.

See ya!

Now, the ICW runs along the West Coast of Florida from Anclote Key (Tarpon Springs, just north of Clearwater) down to Ft. Meyers, and serves as a nice option if the sea state in the Gulf is gnarly and you still want to make way along the coast. Most of the bridges along that route are either 65 feet or taller or they open to allow marina traffic through. We had six bridges total to make it through from Gasparilla up to Venice.

Most of them were open on-demand. Meaning you call the “bridgemaster” (I assume that’s his technical title) about 10 minutes out to request he open the bridge for you — “Open Says-a-ME!” Assuming no traffic or issues, it’s no problem, he opens the bridge as you’re headed toward him and voila! Occasionally, he may have some traffic backed up or some other issue and you’ll have to do a few circles before he can make it happen for you, but it’s generally not a problem. Other bridges open on a schedule, once every 15 or 30 minutes. So, you just have to know your bridges ahead of time and schedule/plan accordingly.

Luckily, I travel with the most awesome Captain in the world, and he had figured all of this out ahead of time and had all the numbers and times and everything printed out, ready to go, while I sat around and ate grapefruit.

Ain’t life grand? Okay, I shared some with the Captain, too.

Grapefruit … yum!

But, Phillip soon wised up and put me to work, keeping up with the log book, checking on the bridge times and

(of course!) monitoring our engine drip.

Drip …

We were motoring under moderate load most of the day and she was dripping once approximately every 15-20 seconds. It seemed the hotter and harder she ran, the less the drip.

No comment … Likely the pressure and heat caused the seal around the stuffing box to swell, which created a tighter seal. In all, we were pleased with the slight drip and felt comfortable spending the day motoring up the ICW. The esteemed Captain called ahead as needed for bridges that opened on demand.

“Open Says-a-ME!”

And we tried to motor accordingly (slower or faster) to come up on those that were scheduled just about the time they were opening.

It was pretty cool to see the massive cranks and gears that raised these bridges.

It’s pretty impressive to take a road that can hold tons upon tons of traffic and just … eehhh … crack it open and let a boat through. While most opened up like a drawbridge, we did pass through one that spun on an axis.

Like I said. Pretty cool. Definitely a different feeling than making our way across the Gulf. While we prefer to sail — always — it was a nice motor day and we got to marvel at some impressive engineering feats along the way.

An inspection of the arm showed I was developing a rare case of what we quickly coined “elephantitis.”

Everything from the wrist down was normal until about here,

where it balooned out and took on a squishy, swollen feel all the way up to my shoulder. And, let me just warn you – do NOT Google images for elephantitis. Just. Don’t.

We made it to the Crow’s Nest Marina in Venice around 3:00 p.m. and settled in nicely at Slip No. 9. The staff at the marina were exceptional. They helped us dock, welcomed us with maps, info, a menu for the local Crow’s Nest restaurant and showed us the facilities. Washer & dryer, nice showers, restrooms, even free bike rentals for marina guests. Sweet!

Live webcam leading out to the jetty:

By then, it was getting close to 4:00 and we were getting … happy. “I’ll take an Oh Shit!, please.”

Mmmmm-Hmmmm!

We sat and sipped and uked and watched the marina activity for a bit,

before cleaning up to head over to the Crow’s Nest Marina Restaurant for dinner. They had separate shower suites, with restroom and shower stalls, which is super nice.

Not “truck-stoppey” at all! The arm was looking awesome …

Not disgusting at all! Just kind of Popeye’ish if you ask me.

I do eats me spinach! But, it was progressing along fairly well and still attached … so, no complaints.

We cleaned up and got ready for a nice dinner at the marina restaurant. The bottom floor of the Crow’s Nest Restaurant is more casual, a tavern-like atmosphere with light fare, live music, etc.,

while the top floor is a ritzy, fine-dining restaurant.

We figured, when in Venice …

“Table for two, please. Top floor.”

And, the food … was … decadent! We ordered up some phenomenal chicken skewers and oysters to start,

which of course came with a basket of piping hot fresh bread and a trifecta of dipping goodness (salty house-made butter, crushed garlic spread and olive oil with spices.

Then, well, things got a little hazy. I remember ordering (and thoroughly enjoying) the snow crab legs, and Phillip got the lamp chops. But, let’s just say, we were a few cocktails, two glasses of champagne and a couple bottles of wine in. I told you we were going to take this crazy act on the road! I remember the crab legs, but not the bib …

“You say it brings out my eyes? Stop it. Cap’n, you’re making me blush. My, my … “