Tipping the Scales

   Waiting on the weather is a fact of life when cruising. It's not just a simple matter of having wind or not; conditions on the water can make or break a cruise.  If the winds are too light, you could end up having to use your engine more than you'd like or possibly deal with a lot of motion on the boat because the wind isn't there to stabilize you. Too much wind or winds from the wrong direction, and you could end up with a fight on your hands; you and your boat vs. the elements. There are are also things like squalls, wave height, swells, and other issues to consider . . .

looks like a completely useless gate until you realize that
it's supposed to keep motorcycles out

   So, why get out there? . . . Why risk it? . . . Because, the weather, for the most part, can be accounted for.  More than any other factor,  it weighs heavily on our plans.  However, we do our homework, we check multiple sources several times a day, and we try to be patient.  We don't always like cooling our heels for long periods of time but, it keeps us safe. Does this mean that we never see bad weather? . . . Of course not.  We are talking about the weather and weather is always subject to change.  We've certainly seen our share of less than perfect sailing conditions but, the precautions we take tip the scales in our favor.

Not sure what these are but,
they smell like honeysuckle

Catholic Church in Town

 

   This is why we just made it into the Dominican Republic; we were, and still are, tipping the scales.  The weather hasn't been very cooperative lately so we've been traveling in small jaunts, concluding our time in Haiti on a slightly sweeter note, and hearing a nicer tune in the Dominican Republic.
 

Walking around Les Cayes

chicken dinner in Isle a Vache

 
   While still in Haiti, we trekked around the larger city of Les Cayes and found some interesting sights.  Although, just getting there was interesting enough. After getting picked up by the water taxi at our boat (anchored off of an island near Les Cayes), we rode for about a half an hour towards Les Cayes.  Once the taxi got close to shore, we moved from the larger taxi to a smaller wooden boat.  That boat got us close enough for the last step, a piggy-back ride . . . seriously.  We, took our turn walking to the bow of the boat where we were carried either piggy-back style or over-the- threshold style to shore. . . Try doing that for a daily commute . . . Once in town, we picked up some provisions, officially checked out of the country, and ate a delicious lunch at a local spot for about $5 (U.S.) for the both of us.

   We also enjoyed a few unique meals on the island of Isle a Vache (where we were anchored). One night, for a small fee, one of the locals cooked us and several friends a large grilled chicken dinner at a common area in the village.  During another night, we walked quite a distance, climbing hills and slipping in mud, to get to Joe's. Joe is a transplant from Europe. When he first came to isle a Vache, he lived in a tent; he now lives with his girlfriend and two-year old son in their home/start-up restaurant. Getting to their home was less than ideal but, it added to the adventure and the company and food were certainly worth the effort.

View from Joe's

Fresh Herbs at Joe's, too

Our, the only, table 

beaches along the route . . .

   About a week ago, we met another couple in Isle a Vache planning to go the same way we were. So, we traveled the next 195 miles together, stopping here and there to rest up and wait on the weather. Last night, after navigating our way through the channel markers in the rain, we dropped anchor in Barahona, DR.  A few minutes to set the boat to rights, a quick dinner, and couple of showers later, we were curled up in bed ready for a good night's sleep.

   This morning, we were greeted by 4 officials. They arrived at the boat to stamp our passports, collect paperwork and fees, check out the boat, and drink beer . .   At 8:30 . . . Oh well, they were very nice and helpful, answering any questions we had and sharing a few jokes, in Spanish of course. . . I eeked out enough rusty Spanish for their visit but, I found that I really need to keep brushing up on the local language  . . .


   Tomorrow we plan on provisioning at the local outdoor market. This market is supposed to really be something to experience and is something I've been looking forward to for some time. After the slim pickings we've had lately, fresh produce will be a real treat.



Please let us know what you think. Feel free to ask questions and leave nice comments. (If no one has commented yet, there will be a "No Comments" link near the bottom of the post. If someone has already commented, there will be a number and the word "comments" beside it. Just click whichever of these is there, click, "add comment" when the window opens, and type away.)

One Good Turn . . .

   Our meeting up with Raindog was never really planned.  We only "knew" each other through the Cruisers Forum and when we actually met for the first time, we didn't expect to be buddy boating.  However, the fact that we are has definitely turned out to be a good thing.  There have already been numerous occasions where one of us has helped the other out.  In some cases, we would really have been in a mess if it wasn't for our buddy boat. We've gotten to know each other, had each other over for meals, and helped each other with problems along they way.

Raindog's Colorful Spinnaker

   After our little off -kilter issue (see previous post), Brian, Erika, Bill, and I were still waiting for a weather window to make the jump to Clear Water.  We decided that all four of us would head out on Raindog for a day sail to do some beachcombing.  We anchored about an hour away from the marina and were met with more shells than you could possibly pick up.  We found some great shells and got some exercise walking around the beach.  As we were heading back to the dinghy, we were met with strong winds and noticed the waves were growing in height.  The waves were too strong for us to take turns heading back in the dinghy.  So, Brian and Erica took the dinghy back to the boat so that they could move the boat to a section of the beach with calmer waters.  Brian then came and picked us up on the calmer end of the beach and we headed back to the marina.

Scupper Likes When We Come Over

Beautiful Beach



No.  I Didn't Set the Shell This Way, The Waves Did

These Horseshoe Crabs Came Up The Beach Together. 
Unfortunately They Couldn't Get Back To The Water.

  

Sunset First Afternoon Out

  

   A few days later, we found a weather window and headed out for Clearwater, FL.  This leg of the journey took us about 43 hours, motoring nearly the entire way.  We were expecting to only spend 36 hours traveling but, the weather had other plans.  The cold temperatures that are causing problems for the northern part of the country are affecting us here, too, in the form of very dense fog.  This fog meant we had to slow down. A lot. For a while, we couldn't actually see Raindog with our own eyes in broad daylight, even though our AIS said they were less that a half a mile from us (thick as pea soup). 

Nap Time

   The fog was so bad, it nearly helped to cause catastrophic issues for both of our boats.  Not long after sunrise on our second morning out, Bill noticed a fast moving blip on our radar.  He communicated this to Raindog who doesn't have radar and was depending on us for these readings (Radar allows you to see ships that are on the water but, not broadcasting on AIS).  We could tell that that this blip was a large pleasure craft (a yacht over 150 ft. long) moving at 17 kts. straight for our boats.  As if that wasn't worrisome on its own, the person(s) operating the yacht were not responding to repeated calls on the radio.  With the fog not allowing us to see a thing, this was getting scary.

That Barely Visible Spot is Raindog
Before The Fog Got Too Bad

   We then (according to protocol), sounded our horns; 5 long blasts for a "Danger" signal (At this point I was thinking it was a "Hey, Idiot! Pay Attention!!" Signal but, it was 5 blasts either way).  We and Raindog did this two times each.  Still no response.  The yacht was still barreling towards us.  We made a quick, decision to alter our course by 60 degrees (yes, it was that close) so that neither of us would end up with two halves of a previously whole boat.  We turned in just enough time to hear a roaring engine go past us.  The yacht never slowed down and we never actually saw it; The fog ensured that.  All we could hope for was that the Coast Guard was listening in and tracked him down.

About To Start The Race

   Once we were finally settled in in Clearwater, we spent two days relaxing and recuperating from our journey.  On our first morning there, we woke to find ourselves surrounded by little racing boats (International Contender class).  We were literally beside the starting line of their races for the day.  Apparently this little team races for fun and, according to the officials we talked to, does as many races as they can when they meet.  Cool! We had the best seats in the house to watch these guys strut their stuff.  We were so close that, at one point, the wind shifted and nearly sent one of the racers into the side of our boat! If he had been any closer, he'd have hit his head on our rub rail.

Motoring Down The ICW

   Once the racers were finishing up, the wind started to rear its ugly head again.  So, we decided to move a little further down, away from the winds, for the night.  The next morning,  we pulled up the anchor and headed for the Manatee River.  This was a wonderful morning to sail.  The weather was perfect and since we were motoring down the ICW for most of the trip, waves didn't become an issue until we had to head "outside" (away from the ICW) for the last few hours of the trip.

One Of The Many Bridges That Had To Be Raised For Us

Two Texas Dinghies In Florida

  So, here I am, writing this on our second day in the Manatee River.  This is definitely a quaint little spot to hole up for a few days.  We have taken the dinghy over to the beach a couple of times to check out a few of the local sites.  The De Soto National Monument and the local park are great places to check out. 

Black Mangrove - Their Roots Actually Grow Up

Heron, I think



Pretty Flowers At The Park

Raindog

Walkway At The Park

  
  
   We spent our morning today (unexpectedly) working on the batteries.  Bill tried to start the engine so we could charge the batteries but, nothing happened when he pushed the start button.  Hours later, and after having to borrow Raindog's starting battery, we got the kinks worked out (a stuck solenoid) and we were charging again.  Funny enough, as soon as we had the engine going, Brian called us on Bill's cell.  He wanted to know if we could go "rescue" Erika.  She had taken their dog, Scupper, for a walk in the park by way of their dinghy.  On the way back, their motor had died and she was stuck in the water.  So, we got into our dinghy and towed Erika and Scupper safely back to Raindog.   One good turn deserves another.   As the Beatles so eloquently put it, "I get by with a little help from my friends . . . ".

     
Please let us know what you think. Feel free to ask questions and leave nice comments. (Just click on "No Comments" if no one else has commented yet.)

Well Blow Me Down!

   Wind is a funny thing.  For obvious reasons, it is essential to the sailing life.  However, it can also be a real nuisance.  It can change direction or surge in strength, causing you to be blown off course.  It can also cause some very unpleasant rocking and rolling.  Even it's nonexistence is an issue because then you must resort to motoring (never something a sailor wants to do).  Don't get me wrong.  I like the wind when it is favorable . . . just don't ask me to be so pleased about it when it gets uncomfortable.

   We were still in Port St. Joe and had been expecting high winds that day.  We had prepared.  Extra fenders against the dock. Check.  Ensure lines are tight and secure. Check.  Secure items on deck so as not to rattle or blow away. Check.  We thought we were all squared away (thought would be the operative word here). 

   Because of our precautions, the day had gone fairly well.  We had only had to adjust our fenders a couple of times.  As night drew near, the wind shifted and began to push us away from the pier (something I would be thankful for later).  We went to sleep comfortable with the fact that the boat would fair just fine through the night . . . 4 a.m.  A sound from the galley woke me up.  It sounded like something fell to the floor.  I normally would have chalked this up to the cats and gone back to sleep but, something told me to get up.  As I did (in my half asleep state), I noticed that I was forced to walk slightly to the side of the boat.  Walking down the hallway was like walking on the floor of a funhouse.  We were heeled over.

   We weren't sailing. We weren't moving.  How could we be heeled over?  I climbed the ladder and hopped up on deck for a better look.  We were definitely on an angle leaning toward the dock and only inches from it.  It hit me.  We were aground.  The keel was resting on the bottom of the marina.  I ran back down to wake up Bill. At first he thought I was nuts.  There was supposed to be ample depth in the marina; no chance of grounding.  However, he checked and I was right.  In fact, two of the other three boats on the pier with us were also in the same predicament.

   What happened?  Three words.  Wind and tide.  Wind normally blows water out of marinas, bays, etc. but, when it is really strong, the wind blows a significant amount of water out of these areas.  This cause severe drops in depth.  On the particular night in question a black moon was combined with the winds.  What is a black moon you ask?  It is a new moon when it is at its closest point to the earth.  The closer the moon, the more extreme the tides (Which meant a really low "low tide").  So, extreme low tide plus strong winds equals a stuck boat.

   Thankfully, we, and the other two boats, were just sitting on the bottom not actually sunk in.  So, with some time, patience, and monitoring of the fenders (I did not want another ding in the teak . . . or worse), we slowly began to shift into an upright position.  No dings.  No further issues.  Thankfully we had been pushed away from the dock before the tide went out.  If we hadn't, we would have been leaning right on the dock.

   So, I guess you could say I should be thankful for the wind blowing us away from the dock . . . but, If the winds hadn't been so high in the first place, it wouldn't have mattered which way the wind was blowing us. . . I digress . . . I thought this little incident deserved its own entry since it certainly shocked us and the locals even said they hadn't seen anything like it.  I guess we can now claim that our boat is so good it was heeled over without a single sail raised . . .

Note:  I wanted to take pictures of this strange occurrence.  However, since I discovered our issue in the wee hours of the morning, any pictures taken would have come out rather dark.
  
 Please let us know what you think. Feel free to ask questions and leave nice comments. (Just click on "No Comments" if no one else has commented yet.)

Two If By Sea

Sunset in Destin Harbor

  

   So we enjoyed the rest of our time in Destin.  We got a chance to spend an afternoon with John (Bill's Navy buddy) checking out the progress on the house he's building.  On Saturday morning, we pulled up the anchor and headed to meet our friends in St Andrew's Marina.

Same Sunset; Still Pretty

  



   The trip to St. Andrew's wasn't bad.  The waves were a bit choppier than expected but, certainly doable.  It also helped that for the majority of the morning, we were escorted by a pod of dolphins playing around our bow.  We thought that they may not stick around long because, compared to the much larger ships that I'm sure they're used to, we weren't going very fast.  However, they didn't seem to mind.  They leapt out of the water, zigzagged between each other, and changed which side of the boat they were playing on from time to time (guess they needed to decide which side was better). I could have watched these guys all day.  They reminded me of a well choreographed swim team, especially when three of them propelled themselves out of the water at the same time.

Oliver Has Found a New Traveling Spot in the Cockpit

  
   When we arrived in St. Andrew's for the night, the two buddy boats we were meeting, Raindog and Palm Latitudes, helped us tie up.  Brian and Erika (Raindog) even had us all over for dinner for homemade chicken and rice.  Yummy! By the way, these guys have a pretty cool story, too. Check them out at raindogps34.wordpress.com if you get a chance. 

Our Fleet of Three

   The next day, our newly formed fleet of three set out for the next leg of our journey.  Our plan was to head for an anchorage off of Port St. Joe, Fl.  Palm Latitudes wasn't quite sure if they were going to stay there with us or keep going to Apalachicola as they had a deadline to make.  Since the turnoff for Apalachicola wasn't until mid-afternoon, we decided that we'd travel as a group of three and their decision could be made along the way. 

  

The Bridge That I Didn't Have To Worry About

  


Along our route, we passed under a couple of bridges.  One was so close to our mast height that we made sure to pass under it during low tide.  Luckily, we were able to clear it with a few feet to spare.

View of the Route

  


   The scenery made for interesting viewing.   The land on either side of us was a mixture of tall trees with strange root systems and white sand.  This combination made for some precarious travel at times as there were a few too many submerged trees and shallow areas for comfort.  Staying exactly where the deeper spots were was Bill's main focus.  The wrecks around us were a sobering example of what could happen if we weren't careful.

Boats Sinking into the Water; Still Tied to the Dock

A Grounded Vessel

  

Hmm . . . New Take on a Houseboat?

   As we made the turn to Port St. Joe with Raindog, we said our goodbyes to Palm Latitudes over the VHF.  They had decided earlier that they needed to keep going.  So, our group of two continued to motor toward our destination (Yes, I know we live on a sailboat but, sailing is just not possible on that route).  Once we had gotten a bit closer to the anchorage, we had a little powwow with Raindog.  The winds were beginning to pick up (we were heading for open water), the water was getting choppier, and the ever changing forecast wasn't looking pretty.  We decided that the best thing to do was to stay at the marina in Port St. Joe instead.

   So, here we are.  This is our third full day in the marina.  We are all anxious to get out of here and on our way.  The weather definitely doesn't seem to care.  It has plans of it's own.  We've had cold temperatures, high winds, choppy waters, and rain.  Thankfully we are able to hole up here.  I shudder at the thought of being on the open water in these conditions.  Even now, as I'm writing this, Bill is checking the lines for the umpteenth time because of the rocking that we're doing. 

   There is a bright side to this waiting.  If we have to wait things out in a marina, this is a pretty good place to do it.  The marina staff are very helpful and seem to go above and beyond for their customers.  The town has everything we need within walking distance or a short bike ride, and the marina even provided us with bikes!  The other boaters here are very friendly, too.  We had an impromptu BBQ the other night with Raindog and another sailboat, Kittiwake; definitely an enjoyable evening.

   We are making fast friends with Raindog.  We plan to continue to travel with them as we are pretty much headed in the same direction.  The only difference being that Raindog wants to hit the Dry Tortugas before heading to the Bahamas.  That destination is not in our plans.  So, if we can find a good weather window (Right now Friday seems like it might work; A good weather window is so hard to find), we'll keep sailing together until Raindog heads to the Dry Tortugas.  Then we'll head for Marathon Key and catch up with them there to make the jump to the Bahamas (Yeah!). . . Now, . . . where did I put those flip flops . . . ?   

   Please let us know what you think. Feel free to ask questions and leave nice comments. (Just click on "No Comments" if no one else has commented yet.)