Brucie the Prius

It shooore is handy having Brucie the Prius here.  Today we tooted around in the car taking a leisurely drive through the area to check out some marinas south of here for our next month-long stay.

And I'm glad we did.  We had a tentative reservation at a marina we'd found on Active Captain (an online interactive cruising guide, https://activecaptain.com).  After driving down there for a visit, we were both disappointed with what we saw.  The pool was shut down for three months, there was tons of construction going on and it was far away from everything.  Three strikes.

We've been here at Marker One Marina in Dunedin for two weeks. During that time there has not been another weather window for those waiting to cross the Gulf of Mexico and Loopers have been piling up in Carrabelle, waiting to cross.  Well, it looks like tonight's the night.  A bunch of them will make the overnight crossing tonight and join us here on the other side.  Best of luck to those of you out there.  Stick together.  Our thoughts will be with you!

On another note, for those readers in the planning stages, we did some tallying up of a few stats that we thought you might find interesting.  We've been gone for 105 days and spent just over $3000 in fuel (and our tanks are still half full).  We've stayed thirty-three nights at marinas and most of those have been special rates or deals.  The rest of the time has been at anchor or at free docks/walls. Not too bad. Very economical living. And, we've had well over 11,000 page reads on this blog.  Thanks for reading!  We're glad to have you aboard.

Note the picture of the bird eating a fish on top of a pole, we were enthralled to watch as the poor little fish was still flopping as the bird was picking at it.  Ewe.

Back to my floating home.

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

With grandbabies all cuddled, read to and played with, I set my sights South.  It was time for a misty-eyed Nana to pry herself away (NOT easily) and get herself back to the boat.

Did you know that the day before the American Thanksgiving is the busiest travel day of the year in the States?  Me neither.  I do now!  I had watched the weather carefully and planned my drive back to the boat in the hopes of avoiding any nasties.  Somehow that "American Thanksgiving" dot remained unconnected (Canadian Thanksgiving is in October, I just didn't think of it).  That made for a much slower drive than I had hoped for.  Holy traffic jams!  Brucie, my trusty old Prius (Jeff named him Bruce, ask him) valiantly carried us and despite the occasional traffic jam, all went well.  In two days Brucie and I covered the territory it took us three months to cover in Gran Vida.  It was interesting to see all the place names and look down on familiar rivers from an interstate highway bridge as I made my way South.  I love a good road trip.

As for Jeff's activities while I was away, among long bike rides, puttering and keeping in the Looper loop.....  He's gone to the birds:

Soo friendly....

Oh Canada! I'm going home.

I'm going home to Canada.  To those of you in the "How long will they last on that boat" pool, don't get excited.  No, we're not throwing in the towel.  I'm going back to Canada to pick up the car. Having settled in at a marina in Florida, and realizing we'll be in the Florida area for several months, a car would be handy.  And we just happen to have one sitting there in Canada.

Jeff will stay in Florida to putter away on the boat.  I'll fly to Ontario, spend a few days hugging my grandbabies and then drive the car back home, er, to the boat, which is now my home, I guess.  Home is where the anchor is!?

We probably won't be posting for a bit.  I know it sounds strange but I'm actually looking forward to the snow.

Crossing the Gulf of Mexico

It's been a busy few days.  There was buzz of a good weather window to cross the Gulf on Saturday night.  After that, bad weather was blowing in and it was going to be quite awhile before another window opened.  It was a Thursday when we heard that.  Hmm.  If we were going to make that window we would have to put in two long days of travel, arrive at the starting point of Dog Island by late afternoon and just carry on out into the Gulf to start our twenty or so hour over-night crossing.

Jeff and I, being the kind of folks we are, quickly agreed.  Let's do this thing!!  (keeping in mind that if it looked chancy or the reports changed, we'd change our plan and hang around Carrabelle for awhile and wait).


We had a few long days of uneventful travel on our way to Dog Island, often both lifting and dropping our anchor in the dark (are those eyes reflecting our lights??). We stopped to fuel up and as we approached Dog Island the little bit of wind there was died down, the waves diminished even more (an omen??).  The sky was blue. The sun was shining. It was a LOVELY day for a crossing and most reports were that it was supposed to even improve.  So after a full day of travel, without stopping, we headed out into the Gulf of Mexico for our twenty-two hour over night crossing.  Yeah!  We were pumped.

Amazing sunset out of sight of land.

It started off great.  There were three boats headed out together as buddy boats: a larger trawler, a sailboat and us, the little trawler that could (or hoped so!).  We were quickly out of sight of land and it was so beautiful.  The sunset was amazing. Soon the stars were out in all their glory and it was all going well.  This was going to be nice!


Then the wind picked up.  Then the waves picked up. Oh Oh. The wind shifted slightly and the ride became increasingly beamy and uncomfortable.  We weren't too concerned as it was forecasted to slow down in an hour or so.  One of the boats we were travelling with had satellite weather so were we able to hear updated forecasts.  It was a sinking feeling (bad choice of words) to hear that NOAA had changed their forecast and the weather was going to deteriorate, not improve.  OH DEAR.  We were in for a ride.

Soon those lovely stars disappeared as the clouds rolled in.  Clouds?  It was supposed to be a clear night.  The beam seas increased and became even more uncomfortable.  The three boats began to discuss a course change.  Would that be better?  It was worth a try.  We all turned a bit North, into the waves a little more, which didn't improve things much for us and would make the trip longer.  We decided to stick to our course and get it over with but stayed in radio communication with the larger trawler as they headed more northerly and we began to drift farther apart.  We continued to follow the sailboat on our original heading.  The weather continued to deteriorate and the boat started to really bounce around.  The sailboat decided to put up some sail, stabilized and with all that wind, zoomed off.  We couldn't keep up.  We watched as the light that was guiding us got smaller, then intermittent as it bounced below the waves, then finally disappeared all together.  Suddenly we found ourselves alone with no one in sight.  There were a few other boats out there somewhere and we all continued to keep in touch by radio for awhile.  That was a godsend.  But eventually the radio went quiet too.


So that's how we ended up alone in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico being bashed around in the pitch darkness.  We could see nothing beyond our boat so we have no idea how high the waves were but up on the fly bridge we were getting sprayed in the face with salty water on a regular basis.  If one of us moved we had to almost crawl or time each step carefully as walking was completely impossible.  Just to stay in our seats we had to keep our legs spread, feet firmly braced on the floor and hold on to something. Things were battened down well in the cabin, we thought, but cupboards flew open and things were flying around. The microwave flew out of it's perch and landed up-side-down on the floor, broken. Furniture rearranged itself.  We lost many things overboard, the camera bag, a small table etc. We don't have autohelm so we were hand steering.  It was almost impossible to keep the boat on course as we were being pitched around by the waves and in the total darkness we had zero point of reference.  Soon Jeff was seasick for the first time in his life.  Let's just say it was a very long, unpleasant night.


Once, at 2:19 a.m., the moon came out from behind the clouds.  I have never been so happy to see the moon! It was a sliver of a crescent, but it was enough.  Finally, we had something to guide our course and steering became much easier.  Just keep the moon there on the port.  This was doable!  Unfortunately, it disappeared about ten minutes later and that's all we saw of the moon and stars.

It's a weird thing to be out there is such total darkness.  In discussions with other boaters they experienced the same thing so we're not crazy, but you start seeing things, all in shadow but very realistic looking. I'd be watching my course on the plotter, and then squinting ahead, trying to see where I was going in the darkness with no success, I'd figure okay, a little to the starboard, away from those buildings and into the grove of trees.  And off I'd go.  They were all shadowy but they looked so real.  Jeff was sure he was seeing oil rigs in the shadows.  We were seeing lots of mystery boats too.  We knew they were just optical illusions but it was very eerie.

The other weird thing was, in all those waves, we could see on the chartplotter that we were being tossed off course a lot.  When we turned the steering wheel a bit to get back on course, with no visual input around us, we had the sensation that the boat was slowly spinning around and around in circles.  We could see on the chartplotter that we were simply turning the boat fifteen degrees or so, getting back on course but it didn't feel like that.  Then we'd  be tossed the other way.  We zigged-zagged like that for most of the night.  Just focusing on keeping the boat going in the right general direction.  For awhile we were wondering if the rudder was okay.  Once daylight came we realized the rudder was fine. It was just another weird sensation from straining to see in the total blackness around us.

Eventually, the wind shifted a bit to the East which provided a better ride for us.  A slight glow appeared in the distance.  Soon, we could make out a bit of a horizon line.  Daylight!  The waves continued to diminish.  The air felt warmer.  The next thing we knew the sun was out and we found ourselves having a beautiful cruise through calmer water.  Wow!  It felt surreal.  Sweaters were peeled off.  The dolphins visited regularly and played around.  Being able to now see some of our surroundings steering felt back to normal.  Jeff's tummy settled and our nightmarish night morphed into a lovely day on the water, although we were still a little shaken and extremely tired.  We had not slept in over thirty-six.

We made our way back onto the Intracoastal Waterway where it picks up again after Carrabelle and after getting a wee bit lost (ugh) found our way into the marina we had booked.  We shut Pearl the trusty Perkins diesel engine down.  She had been serving us, flawlessly, for thirty-five continuous hours.  She's amazing.  We love Pearl.

We are tied up safely at dock at a lovely marina in Dunedin (Marker 1) which has a GREAT Looper special.  There are lots of other Loopers here and it's close to everything.  We've booked for a week but we may just stay put for longer.

We're still processing our first over-night crossing and the lessons to be learned, which are many.  We learned that while we both have adventurous spirits there's nothing wrong with a little well-placed caution and a little extra planning.  We've gained a new respect for the big water.  We've learned that when the going gets tough, the tough stick together. We did very well as a team under extremely trying circumstances (tough way to test that one but A+).

In retrospect, we have been in rougher water than we saw on our crossing.  We know that.  That wasn't our difficulty.  If we had had an autohelm, a light on a boat ahead of us to follow, or even a star or the moon to guide us through all that blackness we would have had a MUCH easier time of it.  The biggest difficulty was being alone in the total darkness, hand steering with no reference point.

 Right now there is a storm brewing and I hear thunder in the distance.  We're cozy in the cabin watching our Canadian Flag in the cockpit proudly extended straight out sideways whipping and snapping in the wind once again, very content to be safely tied up this time.  It's time to slow down.  We're Canadians on a beach in the winter.  AWESOME.  It's been a long time coming.  For now we'll take a nap and maybe later watch a movie.  We made it.  We learned some lessons.  We're happy to be here.  Someday we hope to do it again under better circumstances.

Fort Walton Beach, day 1C

So this is what I like about the cruising life:  you never know what you're going to do until you're doing it.  After last evening's weather check, we went to bed planning to wait out the predicted morning rain storm and then travel on in the afternoon after the sun came out around 3:00.  Of course, the rain didn't materialize, it's been put off until this afternoon and this morning it's cloudy, cold and very windy.  So here we sit. On the free dock at Fort Walton Beach (that you're only supposed to stay at for one day.  It's off-season so hopefully they won't mind a wee stretch to our "one day").  Yesterday it was shorts, t-shirts and flip-flops.  Today it's hoodies.  It looks like a movie marathon day!  Hopefully tomorrow's sun prediction will materialize and we'll move on.

Here's a little bit about the crossing we're getting ready for.  Hopefully this map of Florida will help. The little boat, well, that's us right now.  We need to travel East to the blue circle.  Then when the weather is right, and the Gulf of Mexico is not tooo nasty, we'll cross over to the pink circle.  The reason that we make the crossing is that North/East corner of the Gulf of Mexico is very shallow and full of shoals.  Most folks on the Loop do it this way, although, it is not out of the question that we'll change our mind and go the "Big Bend" route, which visits some of the towns up in the North/East of the Gulf (Florida's North/West coast).  Could happen.  Both routes have their challenges and it mostly depends on the weather (and our mood).

There are a bunch of boats travelling towards the blue circle right now and a several of us will meet there and wait for our weather window.  Then we'll cross together.  The crossing will take well over twenty hours.  We'll leave in mid-afternoon, Jeff and I will take turns driving or napping all night long and we'll arrive in the sunny south the following afternoon.  Hurray!!

After that we have a month-long stay at a very nice looking marina booked and we're toying with the idea of getting the car down here.  Anyone feel like going for a drive??

Below:  Jeff finally got his opportunity for the perfect Heron pictures.  This little guy likes to hang-out around our dock.  He's especially friendly when the locals come out to collect fishing bait.  Nice skinny legs, eh?

Florida Panhandle

We left Turner Marina and were on our way, crossing Mobile Bay by 10:00 a.m.  The water was smooth, the sun was warm and there was next to zero traffic.  It was a great start.  We made it to the Intracoastal Waterway easily and with Jeff directing traffic (note: there wasn't another boat in site! Ah Jeffy, you make me laugh) we hung our left, headed towards Florida.  The Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) is a 4,800 kilometre inland, protected route that goes along the Atlantic and Gulf coasts of the U.S.  The ICW will be our home for quite some time and will bring us all the way around Florida and up the Eastern coast heading North in the spring.







This is some easy boating.  The ICW is very well marked and we just toot along, following the magenta line on the chart plotter and making sure to stay between the reds and greens.  So far it has been quite populated, mostly with homes and condos along the shores.  The dolphins visit us often and we have been trying to get a picture but they're fast little things.  We see them jumping in the distance often and sometimes they dart right up to within a few feet of the boat and surprise us but by the time we grab the camera they're gone.  It's our new challenge:  a good dolphin picture.

The first night on the ICW we anchored in Ingram Bayou.  It was a quiet, well-protected spot and we were entertained by the wildlife (birds and dolphins) and a magnificent sunset while we grilled steaks and enjoyed the show around us.






On our second day on the ICW we passed Santa Rosa Island, one of the barrier islands protecting the ICW from the Gulf of Mexico.  Much of this island is a restricted zone and used as a Naval testing/training area.  We were entertained by watching all sorts of drills, activities and military equipment etc. as we passed.  We watched as men were lowered from helicopters into the water.

Tonight we are tied up to the free dock in Walton Beach, just before the Navarre Causeway Bridge.  It's a fine spot and we may just spend the day here tomorrow.

We are getting close to Carrabelle, which is the jumping off point for our crossing of the Gulf of Mexico.  Because of the shallow water and shoals in the North East corner of the Gulf, most Loopers cross from Carrabelle to Tarpon Springs, on the West Coast of Florida.  It's about twenty-two hours across the Gulf.  Many people leave mid-afternoon and cruise all night.  That way one arrives in the afternoon and avoids approaching land with the sun in the eyes.  It will be our longest crossing on the trip and we're excited about it.  We'll wait for a good weather window, when the Gulf is calm, and take turns driving and napping all night long.  There are many boats crossing this time of year and they usually collect in the Carrabelle area waiting for the right weather window, then cross together.

Mobile Alabama, Turner's Marina, Sunday

Sunday, November 9, 2014

On Sunday we enjoyed a nice slow morning, did some chores around the boat and I went for a nice long jog/walk.  I've been so sedentary I'm surprised my legs still work!  In the afternoon Jim, Mimi, Jeff and I took in the USS Alabama, a battleship from the WW2 that is now located in Mobile and open as a museum available to tour.  It was a GREAT complement to our WW2 museum day in New Orleans.

Boys and their toys

USS Alabama.  HUGE!

Submarine

Hand-crank controls.

Cozy quarters

Not so easy getting out of there with any grace.

This was an amazing surprise. 1864 submarine used by the
Confederates in the Civil War. Powered by eight men.
Check out the Hunley's history.

Tomorrow is the last day of our week at Turner's Marina.  The weather looks good for the next few days, with light winds, sunny skies and highs around seventy, so we'll shove off and begin travelling along the Intracoastal Waterway towards Florida.  Apparently, there are many excellent anchorages along this leg of the journey so we're looking for interesting bayous with lots of wildlife for Jeff to shoot with his new "big-boy" zoom camera lens and also long, white, sandy beaches just begging to be walked along.

Mobile Alabama, Saturday

Saturday, November 8, 2014

Saturday, we took a drive to Orange Beach to take in the Oyster Festival with Jim & Mimi, from Perfect Balance, and ran into another group of Looper there.  We're everywhere!

Eating his first raw oyster.  Put enough bacon on it and
ANYTHING will taste good!

I'll stick to the bloody Marys