Okeechobee Waterway

Now that we were legal, we had a couple of weeks to spend in the States before we got the boat tucked away for the season.  We decided to spend some time with good friends in Fort Myers.

To get there, we headed back through the Okeechobee Waterway again.

The weather forecast was calling for a few days of strong winds and storms. We needed a place to tie up and calculated that we could likely just make it to the Lucie Lock, go through the lock and take a slip at the Lucie Lock Marina and trailer park.  We were close but just missed the last lift by a few minutes.  After trying to tie off between two dolphins (large, tee-pee shaped structures used to tie boats to) without success but with lots of fireworks (one of the only times I can think of that we entertained spectators by yelling at each other), a very quiet evening at anchor off to the side of the channel was enjoyed.  In the morning we were first in line for a lift, putted out of the lock and directly tied up at the marina, ready for the storm.

As we were pulling in we thought wow, are they ever friendly here!  A lady was on shore yelling her welcome and waving both arms.  As we putted up to the dock we realised it was friends Steve and Janice, from the M/V Nomadic Spirit.  They spend half their time traveling in their motor home and the other half on their boat.  They were here in the RV, about to splash the boat and transition to life aboard again.

We spent the next couple of days enjoying the St. Lucie lock and marina and we're glad we did.  The winds soon picked up and we weathered a very nasty thunder storm in Steve and Janice's RV, socialising with other campers.

One day, as we were sitting in the cockpit enjoying our morning coffee, we noticed something in the water.  Was that a log?  On closer inspection we could see it was a great big 'ol gater, sinisterly eyeing the two dogs playing on shore.  Eventually, as more humans became aware of him and stood with arms crossed on shore, he decided to slink back to his lagoon across the river.  Perhaps a fish breakfast seemed like a good idea after all?

Pretty Gran Vida at the dock at St. Lucie Lock

Breakfast anyone? 
Our neighbour there was floating around, eyeing two dogs playing onshore.

Golf anyone?

We stayed for two days while the winds kicked up, enjoying lots of social time with the campers.  Jeff entertained himself and the campers by shooting old golf balls into the river, with some going all the way across.  Some of the guys got into it and they went through quite a few balls that way.

But by the third day it was time to move on.  We putted along slowly, knowing that the winds would die down even more in the afternoon.  We had Lake Okeechobee to cross and it can get very choppy in the wind.

Burning in the sugar cane fields.

We had heard on the news that there were several bush fires burning in Okeechobee County.  It's the end of the dry season here in Florida and bush fires are quite common.  Last year there were several serious ones, where property was lost.  We saw several fires on shore but we're not sure if they were controlled burns of sugar cane or bush fires.

We made it across the lake without incidence.  It was pretty bumpy at first but settled way down by the time we were across.  We made it just in time for the last lock through in Moore Haven and anchored off the side of the channel to enjoy a quiet night.  We weighed anchor and moved on as the sun was about to rise, with a light mist on the river.  So very beautiful.  My favourite time of day. (Once I have a couple of coffees in me).

Moving at sunrise.  Chilly morning.

We are currently enjoying a week at dock in Fort Myers.  Enjoying a little golf, a car show downtown, and lots of quality time with good friends.

Back in the U.S. of A.

Our task for the day:  Get legal.  For the past four years we have, mostly unbeknownst to ourselves, been in the States illegally.  Not us, exactly.  Our boat.  The rules are a little, well, "grey" and each State had been applying them their own way. The Northern States were doing things differently than some of the Southern States.

When we crossed the border in Drummond Island, Michigan, back in 2014, we asked for a cruising permit. They told us they didn't give them out at that office and we should get one at the next office.  Seriously? Where's the next office? we asked.  Miami we were told. 

Again, seriously?! They wanted us to cruise all the way to Miami without a permit?!  We insisted on some documentation.  With a shrug, the boarder guard went to his office and came back with a number written on a yellow sticky note and sent us on our way.  We were a little skeptical but really didn't want to argue with the border guard.

We made it to Miami without incident. Once there we called to ask where we could get a cruising permit.  They had quite a different perception of the rules, flipped out and scolded us, telling us we had to get it in Michigan.  Well, too late for that. We phoned around and talked to a lot of people and it seemed everyone had a different story.  Some said we just needed a customs sticker, which we had.  Some said you had to phone in at every port.  We tried and they didn't know what we were talking about.  It was very confusing to say the least and it's a hot topic with foreign flagged vessels cruising in the States.  Everyone has a similar story.

We recently heard through the grapevine that the Customs and Border Patrol (CBP) guys are aware of these loosey-goosey procedures and are tightening up the rules, trying to make it standard across the board, AND are giving out big fines on occasion.  Fines!?  Not good.  We met one Canadian guy who was fined $5000. in Georgia for not having a cruising permit, even though he had been told up North he didn't need one.

We hadn't really worried about it too much since 2014, but after hearing the $5000. fine story we called the CBP again and got the latest scoop (without identifying ourselves).  They indeed are tightening up the rules, trying to make them standard across the board, and enforcing them.  To get a cruising permit and be cruising legally in the States we had to leave the country for fifteen days and get a year-long cruising permit on our return.  We have to do this each year.  Thus:  Our Bahamas trip.

So, this was our mission today.  Get us a cruising permit.  We were nervous as we'd heard all kinds of horror stories about dealing with United States Customs and Border Patrol.

Jeff was still healing from a twisted ankle and we had to cab it to the airport to visit the customs office, so we wanted to pull the boat into a dock and not fuss with the dinghy. We decided to dock at the free dock in West Palm Beach.  There, we could pull Gran Vida right up to the free day-use dock and Uber to the airport.  Easy-breezy.

We set out and noted that the Intracoastal was particularly busy with really big mega-yachts.  Hmm, unusual.  We were waiting in a long line of them to clear the bridge into West Palm Beach.  Once we cleared, HOLY!  They were everywhere, and there were several cop boats with lights flashing.  Absolute Chaos!

It didn't take us long to figure it out.  The West Palm Beach Boat Show was in the process of setting up and we happened to land right in the centre of it all.  The free dock was closed.  Time for a quick plan B.  We had to get to customs by four o'clock.

Palm Beach Boat Show

So, plan B.  I called the Riviera Marina a few miles North of us, explained our situation, with the Captain's twisted ankle and all, and begged for a spot to tie up for a couple of hours. I was promptly refused, told about their dinghy dock ($15.) and without any sympathy at all told "good luck" and hung up on.  Seriously?!.

So, with a few deep breaths to calm my temper down, plan C was in order.  We went back to our anchorage at Lake Worth, and Jeff hobbled to get the dinghy down.  At this point we had no choice.  By now the clock was ticking and we only had about four hours left to get checked in.  We had to get to land.

It was about three or four kilometres to the dinghy dock at Riviera Marina, the marina who had hung up on us.  We got about one km away from the boat, making our way through all the mega-yachts anchored around us, when our dinghy sputtered and quit. Again, seriously?! Jeff, somehow managed to stay calm but the first mate, not so much.  He struggled and got it sputtering enough to limp back to the boat for a quick repair.

While we were struggling with the dinghy, a helicopter flew low
overhead.  We were watching, trying to figure out where he
was going to land.  Seriously?  Right on the back of one of
the mega yachts we were being waked by and trying to avoid in the channel.

The States is such a strange place.  You see the little sail boat with
a homeless person living aboard and a huge, proud American flag.
Then the juxtiposition.
Most mega yachts are permanently docked in the States and owned
by rich Americans, but are flagged by a foreign country, usually the Bahamas,
so they can avoid paying taxes.  The irony doesn't escape us and leaves a sour taste in our mouths.

Jeff cleaned out the filter, fiddled with a few things, and we started off again.  We were now down to three hours before our deadline expired.  The dinghy was still not right and stalled out a few times but we managed to limp and sputter our way through the anchorage.

Then we had to cross the channel coming in from the ocean, with a long line of huge mega yachts streaming in.  Somehow we had to cut across.  If the dinghy quit in the channel between those yachts they very likely would not be able to see us under their bow and we would become a quiet little thud, barely heard over their cocktail music.  It was a scary prospect.  Hand pumping the fuel line, Jeff managed to get the speed up enough to make it across the channel and with hearts pounding, scooted between them.

Safely across the channel we called the marina to get instructions on where we could park our dingy.  Of course, as our luck was going that day, they sent us to the farthest corner of the marina, necessitating a long walk on Jeff's twisted ankle to get to the marina office.  He hobbled over.  Then they wrote up a tag and asked us to walk all the way back to put it on our dinghy.  C'mon!

We called Uber and gave the very kind driver the address of the Customs office at the airport that they gave us.  It did not show on her gps.  There was no "South" Perimeter Road.  How could this be happening?  We double checked and sure enough, we had the correct address, it just didn't exist.  Our very sympathetic Uber driver very patiently drove us around until we found the office, earning herself a big tip.  In our dour mood we reasoned that might be why the U.S. has such a problem with illegal immigrants:  No one can find the flippin' immigration office!!

We made it to the CBP office in the nic of time, rang the buzzer on the outside of the building, waited and waited for service, submitted our passports through a little drawer in a window, they gave it a cursory glance and flipped it back.  We were quickly sent on our way.  For about the tenth time today, SERIOUSLY!?!?  That was it??  All that trouble for a cursory glance at our passport and a rude flip back across the counter.  No cruising permit?  They instructed us to go to a different office on Monday morning to get that.  Another long Uber drive back to the boat -- $26.00 plus tip there and $19.00 back.  Better than some as we talked to other Canadians who had a $60.00 taxi fare one way!

After that adventure, Jeff treated me to lunch at the Marina restaurant.  He saw the "Rum Pail" on the menu and we both figured that was well earned.

A well-earned Rum pail.

The next day, Monday morning, we got into the long line of folks waiting at the CBP office and got our Cruising Permit with very little fan fair.  Maybe we were lucky they were so busy.

Our cruising permit.  Finally, we're legal!!

Crossing Back

Our weather window opened up beautifully.  Three days of calm waters to cross back to the U.S.A.  Not quite as perfect of our first crossing, but almost. We headed out, basically retracing our route across the shallow Bahamian Banks.

The first night we anchored at Great Sale Cay and enjoyed an amazing sunset and the wondrous show in the night sky, far away from any ambient light.

The second day we travelled to West End, appropriately named as it is, well, at the west end of Grand Bahamas island.  We pulled in, fuelled, paid a visit to the customs office to tell them we were leaving, which was unnecessary, but we did it anyhow as we're still a little nervous about all the immigration and customs stuff.  We looked across the marina and low and behold, there sat friends Dave and Michelle on M/V Just Us!!  They had just crossed from the States!!  The boating world certainly seems small sometimes.

Well, you just never know who you'll run into!
Dave and Michele (M/V Just Us)

We enjoyed a great, albeit short visit with Dave and Michelle then pulled out to anchor, all ready to head out across the Gulf Stream first thing in the morning.  The water out there was so amazingly clear.  One can see every detail on the bottom.  Being a swimmer, I just had to put on my suit and take a dip.

B-Bye Dave & Michele!

We could see there was some current in the water and the tide was changing but I was caught off guard by how strong it was.  I jumped in and was quickly swooshed along, a little concerned it was going to carry me all the way to Portugal!  A couple of gentle strokes towards the boat didn't do much.  I had to put some pretty good oomph into my strokes to get back against all that current.  An enhanced respect for tidal currents was earned that day!

So hanging on to a line from the boat, I played around in the current for a bit...  until Jeff cautioned me to get out of the water, NOW!  I great big turtle was coming over to pay a visit.  I'm not sure if it would have come right over or if he was friendly or not but I decided I had had enough by then anyway and scampered quickly out.

At first light we weighed anchor and left. The crossing was a little "bumpy" at first but quickly settled down.  It took us nine hours to get across from West End Bahamas to Lake Worth in Florida and to be honest it was a little boring.  There's not much to look at out there. We don't have auto helm so we took turns hand steering, which requires some concentration as there are generally no points of reference except for that magenta line on the chart plotter. I'm always grateful when a faster boat passes us and we can follow it for awhile.  Makes the steering easier.

Land ahoy!  Florida's buildings start to come into view on the horizon

We dropped the hook in Lake Worth and called in our arrival to the 1-800 number.   They gave us a check in number and told us we had twenty-four hours to present our passports to an immigration officer, and sorry, the local office was closed for the weekend so we'd have to make our way to the airport at West Palm Beach.  Ugh.  That meant an expensive taxi ride.

Bye-bye Green Turtle Cay

As our month at Green Turtle Cay ticked on we found we had less and less interest in moving the boat to other little towns.  We became quite "Bahamian".  By that I mean relaxed, laid-back and just enjoying each day as it came.  We spent more time beach-combing, dinghy 'sploring and just hanging with other boaters.  It was a very pleasant head-space to be in.

But all good things must come to an end.  Eventually, our daily weather check revealed a window of light, southerly winds was forming, which would be just perfect for the three day journey back to the States.  We watched daily and it soon became apparent that this was the time to go.

This guy would swim under our boat in the marina from time to time

Girls' day out!

When we first entered the Bahamas we were granted a thirty day stay.  With the winds being so strong and northerly it soon became apparent that we would need an extension. To do that we had to take a ferry to another Cay, called Treasure Cay, and find the immigration office there near the airport.

We got directions from Grant and Cindy: Once off the ferry we had to walk along the side of the road for about a mile or so until we found a blue building with a pharmacy and a gambling place on the main floor.  (Gambling place?)  The immigration office was in a unit on the second floor.   Off we went!

The office was quite different from what we've come to expect in Canada.  It looked more like a sleazy motel out in the middle of nowhere. We found the stairs to the second level around the side of the building.  They had bars around them and a bunch of junk laying around, including an old washing machine, old tires, garbage pails etc.  Upstairs, we walked along past doors of what looked like motel rooms, with bars on windows and old stickers warning us that we were being monitored. Once we located the door that said immigration, we tentatively opened the door a crack and peeked inside.

Inside, we were greeted by a very professional and pleasant immigration agent who politely and efficiently guided us through the process of filling in the extension forms.  Whew!  We weren't sure what we were going to find behind that door but it was just another example of not judging a book by it's cover.  While the building might look a little rough around the edges, the personnel are quite formal, with impeccable uniforms, very polite and helpful.

Immigration Office

Looked scary, but actually quite pleasant
and profession once inside.

Other than that we basically just hung out and enjoyed.  There were coaster bikes, kayaks and paddle boards available for our use.  The pool, while cool, was lovely.  And there were endless beaches to explore.  

Pete's Pub

Pete's Pub is in Little Harbour which is pretty much the farthest South you can travel in the Sea of Abaco before heading out in the great big ocean.  Because the high Northern winds had us waylaid we decided to join our boating buddies Grant and Cindy from M/V As the Crow Flies, and another couple who are friends of theirs, and rent a van.  Road trip!

The pub has a pretty interesting history.  Pete's Dad, Randolph, who was a university professor, decided to sail away in the fifties with his family to escape the rat race.  They found Little Harbour, which was uninhabited, and they lived in caves until they built small, simple thatched roof huts to live in.  Their settlement grew to include a foundry, gallery and pub.  

Now, it's a popular mooring area, pub and gallery.  People come from all over and hang t-shirts in the pub.  I regretted not grabbing one from Harbour West Marina.  Just one more reason we have to go back.

Unfortunately, Jeff, being the thoughtful guy he is, hurt his ankle the night before our road trip in a very valiant attempt to get into the dinghy quickly from a very high dock and prepare it for our guests and me to embark.  His leap, while quite spectacular, didn't go all that well, scoring a solid thumbs down from the Canadian judge.  He decided to stay on the boat and apply ice instead of joining us on the road trip, which was very disappointing for everyone involved.  He was very missed.  Poor Jeff.

We spent the day beach combing along a crashy Atlantic coastal beach before enjoying lunch at the pub.  Later we took a drive through the town of Marsh Harbour, which is a bigger town than New Providence on Green Turtle, to do a little grocery shopping.  A great day was had by all. Except poor Jeffy, of course.

Manjack Cay

One of our favourite ways to spend time here in the Blow-hamas, while we're waiting for the Don't Rock Pass to settle down so we can travel further South, is to pack up a cooler full of lunch and libations and head out in the dinghy.  We do a lot of that.  One of our favourite stomping grounds is Manjack Cay, just to the North of Green Turtle.

While there are some inhabitants on Manjack, it is mostly a quiet, wilderness spot.  There is no "town" per se, at least that we've found.  The highlight for us was dinghying up the little rivers that ran through the cay to look for great big turtles to feed.  We heard that is where they are easy to find.  Also, Manjack is a great place to beach comb and look for sea biscuits.

The first time we dinghied over there the first wildlife we saw was, yup, another pig.  Seriously?  Where are they coming from?  There on the beach we saw one big sow being fed by a few gathered boaters.  We happened to have some bread in our lunch basket so we got into the fun and shared it with Miss Piggy.

We did end up seeing many turtles, which was the goal, but none of them were brave enough to approach the dinghy for some snacks.  Just another reason we'll have to revisit the blow-hamas.  We're hankering for a close encounter with a great big turtle.

Blow-hamas

When we were on Lake Michigan and having trouble with rough water and the weather, Jeff renamed the lake "Lake Bitchigan".  Now the Bahamas have been formally renamed  "Blow-hamas", and no, it has nothing to do with illegal drugs.  Here we sit in Green Turtle Cay, safely at dock, with the wind howling and the seas stirred up, rendering it far too rough to move the boat.

Not that we're complaining.  We would like to visit some of the other little towns south of us but we have a boat full of food and local rum, and other than the steady breeze, the weather has been sunny and warm.  This is NOT a bad place to be waylaid.  We are surrounded by beautiful beaches, safely docked at a lovely marina, surrounded by happy, friendly boaters.  What's not to love?

The cute little school on Green Turtle Cay.

Our buddies Grant and Cindy spend their entire winter here in this little village and one way they give back to their adopted winter home is by volunteering at the local school.  Being a retired teacher, I was pretty interested in this and we wanted to contribute in some small way.  Grant and Cindy suggested we bring a new ball for the kids as they were playing flag football with a beat up old sorry thing.  We attended a fund raiser breakfast at the school and presented them with our gift.  The school only has about forty-five students and is oh so cute.  The classrooms looks, well, pretty much like they do in Canada, and I didn't want to snap a pic as they were full of kids, but check out the school yard with the view.  The grown-ups are giving a pickle ball demonstration here.

Other than that, we've been spending time lolly-gagging around, dinghy 'sploring, some boat maintenance, beach combing, watching movies, reading, biking into town, kayaking or paddleboarding, etc. etc. etc......

Our treasures