It was when Lisa and I were dating that I introduced her to
the idea of sailing the world aboard a small sailing yacht. At the time, Lisa’s
primary sailing experience had been aboard tall ships – specifically, the R/V WESTWARD, a part of the Sea
Education Association. The WESTWARD
was a topsail-schooner – at 100’ in length, she was a far cry from JO BETH. Nonetheless, I persisted,
peddling off books for her to read written by the legends of world cruising of the time;
Eric and Susan Hiscock and their multiple trips around the world in their
wooden yacht WANDERER and their
subsequent wood and steel boats of the ‘Wanderer’ name; Hal and Margret Roth
aboard their 36’ yacht WHISPER, and
Larry and Lin Pardey, aboard their wooden and engineless 24’ cutter, SERAFFYN.
Leaving Ft. Pierce, Florida
On one of our weekend trips to the Georgia coast to sail in
our first little sailboat, SEA SCHELL,
Lisa said as we began the drive from Atlanta, “all these people do is struggle
to get somewhere, then fix everything that broke when they get there.” I looked
at her for a long moment. “Yeah,” I finally said, “that’s true. But it’s better
than life in a cubicle, right?”
It is an unfortunate fact that on our first full day in
Marathon, my time was spent replacing the shower sump pump, repairing a cracked
fitting in the waste holding tank vent line, and trying to puzzle out why the
aft water tank refuses to fill to capacity. By the end of the day, I was tired,
hot, stiff, and very tired of banging my head and scraping my knuckles.
We left Ft. Pierce on a brilliant and warm Wednesday
afternoon, motoring out the inlet channel, and pointing the bow south into the
blue Atlantic, we set the sails. The winds were light and no sooner than not,
we were motor-sailing so as to hold our course and direction. As the sun
dropped below the western horizon, we changed into warmer clothes, and once
past the St. Lucie Inlet, we settled into the night routine of an offshore
coastal passage. Shortly before 9pm, we rolled in the headsail as the winds had
shifted a bit more to the east and south, making it difficult to keep the sail filled.
A persistent two knot current against us also made things a tad frustrating.
Atlantic Blue Water!
The night passed quietly with both of us keeping watch until
midnight. Then Lisa went below for a two-hour sleep as we continued south. At
2am, I woke her and we changed the watch. She cheated a little and didn’t wake
me at 4am, but I awoke at about 4:45. I went on deck as we were approaching Ft.
Lauderdale and a traffic jam. There was a container ship about 8 miles east of
us going south; our AIS system identified her as the WASHINGTON EXPRESS, and reported she was going to the Port of Houston,
Texas. Three cruise ships were in-bound to Ft. Lauderdale, and our courses were
going to cross. However, the big wrench in all of this was the U. S. Navy. They
were conducting ‘surface operations’ in the channel entrance to Ft. Lauderdale.
We’re not 100% sure as to what was going on, but essentially, there was a Navy
submarine, on the surface, running a prescribed course. It was interesting to
hear the Navy and cruise ship captains discuss right of way issues over the radio. We drew
little attention and only had to talk to one cruise ship to clarify our
intentions as to where we were going in relation to where they were going.
Sunrise off of Ft. Lauderdale, Florida
By 11am the following morning, we passed through the Port of
Miami and soon we turned south into the broad and shallow waters of Biscayne Bay. After refueling
at a local marina on the mainland side of the bay, we headed east across the
bay to anchor for the night in a protected cove behind Key Biscayne. In many ways, this was something of a homecoming for us. Lisa and I lived in Miami for many years.
Our plans had been to take the Biscayne Channel out of the bay
and into Hawk Channel and then continue south to the area of Plantation Key in the upper portion of the Keys island chain. We
couldn’t make the run from Miami to Marathon in one day in Hawk Channel; the
distance is too great and with the proliferation of coral reefs surrounding the
channel, running at night is ill advised. Going on the offshore side of the
reef wasn’t an option either, as the western edge of the powerful Gulf Stream
current, which flows northward at close to 4mph or more, was very close to the reef. (The exact location
of the Gulf Stream changes frequently. It's like a river flowing within the ocean.)
Anchored in Key Biscayne Bight with a few other vessels
A listen to the weather forecast was discouraging. Winds
were forecast to fill in from the north, then become northeast then east, and
approach 20 knots. Anchorages in Hawk Channel are few and far between, and this
weather forecast essentially made each and every one of them dangerous. If we had trouble getting
our anchor to set and hold, we would risk being driven onto the rocks and hard packed
sand flats of the upper Keys.
We re-evaluated our plans and decided to take the inside
route to near Islamorada in the upper-middle Keys, then cross over to the ocean
side and Hawk Channel via Channel #5, a deep and well marked channel. The first day went well enough, passing through many
shallow areas, but with no problems, aside from discourteous fisherman passing us far too fast and too close at times in the shallow waters of Florida Bay. By sunset, we settled into Cowpens Anchorage behind
Plantation Key as the forecast filled in and the wind blew hard from the
northeast and east. After a dinner of black bean and quinoa salad, it was
lights out for us.
We woke early the next morning to discover a crack had
formed in the vent line fitting of the waste holding tank. This was a repair
that had to wait until we were at our new slip, but it did mandate some changes
in the use of the head aboard. Soon we were underway in a strong easterly
breeze of about 18 knots. Getting in to Cowpens was easier than getting out, as
we bumped bottom several times. Once out of the anchorage and back into the
channel, things got worse.
Sunset in Cowpens Anchorage, Plantation Key, Florida
The water in this part of Florida Bay is extremely shallow.
We grounded hard in mid-channel, twice, and it was here that the strong breeze
became our benefactor. The force of the wind on JO BETH pushed us over far enough so that the keel slid off of the
bottom. Going aground is a helpless feeling, but soon enough we were underway,
and within an hour we were back in Florida Bay’s ‘deep’ waters of seven and eight feet.
I was very happy to pass through Channel #5 and back into Hawk Channel’s
relatively deeper waters of 20 and 25 feet.
By this time the breeze had lightened and shifted north. We rolled out the
headsail as we pushed west through the blue-green Atlantic waters toward
Marathon. Shortly before 2pm we made our approach to the Coco Plum Harbor
entrance channel and into Bonefish Marina, our new home. By 2:30pm, we were
secured in our slip with help from our new neighbors Ron and Fran aboard the
37’ yacht QUESTERIA. The marina here
is lovely. It’s very quiet and laid-back, with showers and laundry facilities,
an outdoor bar/lounge area, a small workshop and facilities to dispose of oil
and other pollutants. The water in the basin is tested regularly to make sure
that no boats illegally discharge sewage overboard and the marina requires all
boats to have their waste holding tanks pumped twice per week. There’s a small
beach within a mile’s walk and we can take our dinghy to two or three
waterfront bars and grills. The town of Marathon is a short bike ride away.
JO BETH secured in her new home base, Bonefish Marina, Marathon, Florida
We showered and went into town with a very expensive Uber
ride for a dinner of fried conch fritters. It turns out that our Uber driver
also drives for a local cab company and that calling him through the cab
service is much cheaper.
Welcome to the Keys!
Marathon sunrise
