The Bigger Wait

It's been a month now.  Waiting.  For the past four weeks we've been lurking about on the East Coast of Florida, waiting for our window.  One day we thought it was looking pretty good so we decided to give it a try.  A few boats we knew were going across and while they were faster and saltier, we reasoned that if we got a head start we'd be out there for a couple of hours before them, they'd pass us and for most of the way we'd be within radio contact. We hoped.

So at 4:00 a.m., we weighed anchor and poked our nose out through Haulover Inlet.  

I didn't take us long (read seconds) to know that this was NOT to be.  Yikes!  It was pitch black and we were caught in big breaking waves.  Not comfortable at all, not to mention unsafe.  I don't know how we managed it, but we carefully turned the boat around and headed back in.  (Later we learned that Haulover Inlet is notoriously rough and there are numerous YouTube videos of boats trying to get through.  Who knew!  Oops.

Now what.  It was 4:00 a.m.  Shaken, we slowly putted south through a sleeping Miami and, feeling defeated, decided to just head to the Keys instead, through the calm ICW.

Once day broke, peaking out through the inlets we were passing, optimism reared it's hopeful head again.  We really wanted (read, needed) to get out of the States.  Aside from wanting to visit the Bahamas for pleasure, we had a legal issue.  We were not in possession of a U.S. cruising permit.  If stopped, and our explanations of bad weather, pleading and my tears didn't work, we could be stiffly fined and possibly kicked out of the country.  For the past several weeks, every time a U.S. customs boat went by, with it's flak-jacketed and armed crew, we had been averting our eyes and trying our best to look sweet and innocent.  We even tucked our Canadian flag into the rail, making it look like it was an accident, so they wouldn't notice we were a foreign flagged vessel.

Peering out through an inlet mid-morning, we decided, hey, it didn't look all that bad out there.  We decided to just poke our nose out into the ocean and see, maybe head to Bimini? That was out of U.S. territory.  It was pretty bumpy, but probably safe.  We travelled out for about an hour.  As we approached the gulf stream it got quite bumpy.  We agreed, this was tolerable but just at our threshold.  Any rougher, considering that we were out there alone in an older boat and had eight or so hours to go with degrading weather forecasted, we'd turn around.  Then we found some great big bumps.  Nope.  Not for us.  We both agreed, cruising permit-less or not, we turned around and headed in with our tails between our legs.  Safety had to be our first concern.  This was the ocean.  NOT to be messed with in our ageing coastal cruiser.  We would wait for our calm weather window.

So, like the last several weeks, we continued to spend more time swinging on the hook, moving the boat down to the Keys for awhile.  Not a bad place to hang out on the down low.

Tomorrow is looking good though.  Really light winds from the south, just what we want.  Our buddies on the boat M/V Mary Rose are headed to Fort Launderdale to stage for a crossing and we are on our way too.  It will be nice to be at a marina for a night and wash some of the salt crystals off the boat.  Eveything has that slimy, salty feel.  After a meeting over happy hour tonight, if all looks good, we'll head out across together at first light tomorrow morning.  The trip should take about 8-10 hours from Fort Lauderdale to the West End of Great Bahama Island.

Fort Lauderdale

Gilberts in Key Largo

Lauralei's in Islamorada

Dinghy 'sploring in Oleta State Park, North Miami

Swimming off the boat in Oleta State Park, Miami

Fort Lauderdale Port

Ugh.  Salt crystals hardened on our boat.

And here we are, at dock in Fort Lauderdale, all ready to head out to the great big sea at first light.
MV Mary Rose and MV Gran Vida, two 1979 thirty-four foot Canadian Trawlers.