I went sailing on Wednesday and, all in all, I had a pretty weird day.
Early in the morning I got the urge to get on the water. I knew the weather was supposed to be pretty decent and when I checked the web I was told it would be 80 degrees with winds 8.5 mph with gusts a tad higher. Practically perfect! Then I checked the tide charts to see how safe the Charlotte Harbor would be. According to the predictions low tide was at 10am and water levels would be just a couple of inches too low, but if I waited until 11:30 or the water would be several inches above the low chart depth and that would be no problem for me.
(Side note: charts all have soundings letting the navigator know how deep water is in low tides. The tide predictions tell you how low the water is in relation to the charts. So if a sounding says the water is 5 feet... and at low tide the prediction is -0.5, that means the water depth is actually only 4'6". Normally the prediction doesn't go in the negatives, but winter time on the gulf coast of Florida has some wacky tides. My draft, which is how much below the waterline my boat goes, is 4'3".)
The plan was to go out single-handed. I had never sailed single-handed before (the trip from Fort Myers Beach to Punta Gorda was done by motor the whole way) and was looking forward to see how much of a challenge it would be. I got to my boat at 11:00 and was ready to head out at 11:30.
As I eased the boat out into the channel from dock I encountered my first oddity.
The channel is supposed to have a minimum depth of 5'6". There are numerous sailboats much larger than mine (implying they have a greater draft) in the same canal system and while the depth should have been 5' even at low tide we were now 90 minutes past that and the level should have been close to normal.
However, leaving the dock my keel touched bottom.
It wasn't a big deal... it really just sort of scraped mud for a couple of feet and since I was using the engine while in the canal I easily went over it. It kind of put me in a weird mood though. This shouldn't have happened. I'd been over that spot many times in the last few months even when the tide had been lower and never touched ground. Very strange.
Anyhow, there were no other problems as I headed out to the bay.
The wind was picking up and I suspect it was a little more than the anticipated 8mph, probably closer to 11 or 12. This didn't worry me a whole lot although I knew it would make raising the sail a little more difficult. I decided I would forgo using the genoa... the sail in the front of the boat. It would be a little unwieldy in the wind and would probably exhaust me fighting to get it up. I opted for just the main sail.
When I reached the middle of the harbor I turned the boat into the wind and put the engine in neutral. Its important to keep the engine running in this case so, in the event of an emergency I needed to quickly move the boat, it would be ready.
Raising the main by myself, and without anyone to keep the boat facing into the wind, was a chore. I fought the wind, the choppy waters in the bay, tangled lines... I'm sure any film of the situation would have been hilarious. It took me about 15 minutes and the current from the incoming tide moved me upriver (the Peace River empties into Charlotte Harbor) close to a quarter of a mile. The boat was drifting close to the center of the channel so I wasn't too concerned.
Once the sail was up and the boat was moving I let out a sigh of relief and cut the engine. It was a hassle, but I now knew it was doable. Goal achieved. As I leaned back in the cockpit to relax and cruise the boat around the bay I spotted a big problem.
On sailboats there is a mechanism called the main sheet. This is the line (usually comprised of several block and tackles) that connects to the boom, in turn allowing the sailor to catch or release more wind into the main sail. There is *significant* amount of force applied to the boom, which in turns applies it to the main sheet. The problem I noticed is that the shackle which unites the boom and the mainsheet had broken and the boom was being held in place by a small hook in the shackle, and the hook was straining mightily in the increasing wind.
A swinging boom has got to be the single most dangerous thing in all sailing. I've read many stories of accidental jibes (where the boom swings from one side of the boat to the other) killing sailors. If it doesn't kill them outright, it will often knock them unconscious and overboard. Imagine Paul Bunyan swinging a 12' long aluminum baseball bat and aiming for the fences.
Was I, at that moment, in physical danger? Probably not. My head and body were below and slightly behind the boom. However, all the time I'd been hoisting the sail and moving between the mast and cockpit I had been in severe danger. Egads. That alone was enough to freeze me in place a few minutes thinking about it.
Even as I sat there contemplating that the wind was getting noticeably stronger. Any other time I would be ecstatic to have strong winds hurling me at top speed along the water, but now it was just getting more and more dangerous on the boat.
And so ended my single-handed sailing debut. I started the engine, turned the boat into the wind, then jumped to the mast and started lowering the sail. It was almost as much work taking it down as it was raising it. With the sail down and somewhat secure, I jumped back into the cockpit and fixed the boom with the boom-vang (a line which prevent the boom swinging around when not in use). No longer in danger, I sighed (I had *really* wanted to enjoy this more) and changed course back to the canal system.
As if to add insult to (near) injury the boat ran aground as I was on the final approach to my docking space.
Unlike before, I was coasting in and had made my final adjustment. This bit can by tricky with two people, let alone single-handed. I have to judge the correct speed to coast into the dock, slow enough that I don't hit anything too hard, yet quickly enough that the boat doesn't drift or turn. At the last second I have to turn the boat alongside the dock, then jump forward and grab a line and attach it to a post on the dock... all before drifting past the post. To envision this, its like parallel parking between two cars with no brakes.
As I was getting close the point where I make the final steering adjustment the boat jarred along the ground and came to a complete stop. Argh!!!!!
I knew this wasn't really a problem, but I was already pretty angry about how the day was going and now I was just plain pissed. I put in the engine in reverse, gave her some throttle, and worked the boat off the ground. After a few minutes of manuevering back through the canal I was ready for another shot. This time I had make sharper turns to avoid the spot where I had just went aground. This is not ideal since it now left me with a couple seconds less time to catch the boat on the dock as I coasted past it.
Fortunately I made the catch just fine. After 30 more minutes of securing the boat from the sail and a few other related chores I was ready to go home.
One thing I had noticed throughout the day was how hot it felt. On a lark I checked the weather site again when I got back to the house. The day's high was 89 degrees! Whoever forecast 80 should be fired. I mean really... how can a forecast be 9 degrees off?! The web page still listed the day's high as 80, even though the current temperature right next to it said 89.
Well... no more sailing for me until I can get the shackle fixed. I don't know how much its going to be but I certainly won't be able to afford it until I start working.
Till next time....
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Monday, January 5, 2009
Couple new photos
Not much to comment on. I wanted to go sailing this weekend but the weekend was crowded with other events (namely football and Arrielle's birthday).
However, I did add some new photos to my gallery which I took a few weeks ago. They are of Jimi, Arrielle, and I out on Charlotte Harbor. I'm pretty sure it was a Sunday around midday. The harbor gets a little busy out there (although nothing resembling the San Diego Bay) on the weekends with the racers and whatnot.
Here is the link to my gallery...
Dan's Online Gallery
However, I did add some new photos to my gallery which I took a few weeks ago. They are of Jimi, Arrielle, and I out on Charlotte Harbor. I'm pretty sure it was a Sunday around midday. The harbor gets a little busy out there (although nothing resembling the San Diego Bay) on the weekends with the racers and whatnot.
Here is the link to my gallery...
Dan's Online Gallery
Monday, December 29, 2008
Bath time!
Yesterday I decided to finally give the boat a good cleaning. I bought a 50' length of garden hose, some Simple Green cleaner, and a sturdy broom/brush at Walmart and headed down to the dock.
You have to use a little caution when cleaning a boat as everything you do goes straight to the water. My Aunt Mary had told me Simple Green was a good cleaner since its environmentally "not bad" and does a decent job of cleaning. While I am not generally a "Green" type of person I think I will being leaning in that direction in the future. Most cruising sailors tend to become so simply because its part of the lifestyle (ie, solar panels for power, less plastic because you can't throw it overboard, etc).
My little rented dock space has power and water but I have to provide my own cables and hose. The cable I already had (came with the boat, thank goodness) but the hose was a new and necessary purchase. Not only is it handy for cleaning the boat but now I can finally refill my fresh water tank.
The cleaning job went pretty quickly... one of the small benefits of only have a 27' boat. Mostly I just had to remove a lot of bird poop off the deck. Afterward. as I was stowing everything, I found a near duplicate of the brush I had just bought. Sigh. That would have saved me $7 if I had seen that before.
You have to use a little caution when cleaning a boat as everything you do goes straight to the water. My Aunt Mary had told me Simple Green was a good cleaner since its environmentally "not bad" and does a decent job of cleaning. While I am not generally a "Green" type of person I think I will being leaning in that direction in the future. Most cruising sailors tend to become so simply because its part of the lifestyle (ie, solar panels for power, less plastic because you can't throw it overboard, etc).
My little rented dock space has power and water but I have to provide my own cables and hose. The cable I already had (came with the boat, thank goodness) but the hose was a new and necessary purchase. Not only is it handy for cleaning the boat but now I can finally refill my fresh water tank.
The cleaning job went pretty quickly... one of the small benefits of only have a 27' boat. Mostly I just had to remove a lot of bird poop off the deck. Afterward. as I was stowing everything, I found a near duplicate of the brush I had just bought. Sigh. That would have saved me $7 if I had seen that before.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
My Other Blog
A quick note to point out that I made a second blog. Its generally technical in nature so it won't interest most people.
However, I *did* just post about the game I made. It a lot of fun and everyone can download it. If you have comments, please feel free to leave them on the other blog so I can find them.
However, I *did* just post about the game I made. It a lot of fun and everyone can download it. If you have comments, please feel free to leave them on the other blog so I can find them.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Fort Myers to Punta Gorda
As mentioned in my last blog I had to move my boat from Fort Myers Beach to the slip I'm renting in Punta Gorda. There wasn't anyone handy to go with me on this trip so I did it by myself. A little challenging since I knew I'd have to dock a couple times (once at a fuel station and then again when I pulled into my slip). However, armed with some tunes, bottled water, my cell phone, and my charts, I didn't expect any serious issues.
Did I say charts? Oops. After the 5:00 AM rise and an hour long drive down to Fort Myers I discovered that I had forgot my charts. I had placed them the previous night at the foot of my bed so I wouldn't forget them. Guess that wasn't such a good place after all.
The problem now is that to get the charts I'd have to spend two more hours driving my car, but I didn't have two hours to spare. High tide in Fort Myers was at 7:45 AM and, according to the people at the boat yard, it was important to leave their yard around high tide. Also, I knew the trip would take approximately 9 hours and I absolutely did not want to navigate an unfamiliar harbor, by myself, at night. Sunset was at 5:48 PM (if memory serves) and it would be dark by 6:20. I needed to be out of the yard by 8:30 at the latest.
For those unfamiliar with boating and nautical charts, they look like a map but they are far more critical than road maps. A body of water as big as the Gulf Mexico is easy to draw on a regular map. However, to a sailboat with a draft of 4' 3" deep it is incredibly important to know how deep the water is at a given location. There are many places along the coast that look nice and deep over a mile from the shore that are really only 2' deep at low tide. Nautical charts show how deep or shallow given areas in great detail, as well as where certain navigational aids are located. Sailing without them in an unfamiliar area is fool hardy at best.
I decided to forego the charts and leave the boat yard ASAP.
I *had* studied the charts quite a bit the previous night so I had a pretty good idea of what markers I needed to hit to avoid shallow areas. Also, as I got underway, I called my cousin at the house and asked him to take the charts with him to work. As I needed course corrections I'd call him with my current GPS location and he could advise me which bearing I should follow.
This worked out pretty well. As I was skirting Sanibel Island I needed to find out how close I was to the shore. On the water you can see approximately 7 miles to the horizon, but its very difficult to judge how far away an object on the shore is. I knew I was closer than 7 miles, but I needed to be further than 2 miles or I'd come close to some very shallow water. I called Jimi up, gave him my coordinates, and he said I was 2.5 miles from the shore, and if I followed bearing 220 for another 4 miles I could start heading NW at about bearing 290.
I kept him appraised of my location every couple of hours and he pointed me in a new direction when needed. It worked rather well.
In the end, everything worked out just perfectly. I glided into my slip at around 6:15 PM or so... it wasn't quite dark as I was tying up the boat.
While everything turned out pretty well I'd have to say in hindsight that it was a pretty dumb move. I'd have been in deep trouble if I lost cell service while offshore. I was only about 4 miles off the coast at any given time, and I figured I'd be able to retain a signal, but it wasn't guaranteed. In fact, there was one point were I had no bars for about 45 minutes or so. Could I have made it anyway? Perhaps. There would have been a really tricky area between Boca Grande (the entrance to Charlotte Harbor) and the turn north to Punta Gorda that I could have conceivably ran into significant trouble.
Anyway, that all being said, it was a great trip. The Gulf of Mexico is absolutely beautiful and I can't wait to sail on it more.
Did I say charts? Oops. After the 5:00 AM rise and an hour long drive down to Fort Myers I discovered that I had forgot my charts. I had placed them the previous night at the foot of my bed so I wouldn't forget them. Guess that wasn't such a good place after all.
The problem now is that to get the charts I'd have to spend two more hours driving my car, but I didn't have two hours to spare. High tide in Fort Myers was at 7:45 AM and, according to the people at the boat yard, it was important to leave their yard around high tide. Also, I knew the trip would take approximately 9 hours and I absolutely did not want to navigate an unfamiliar harbor, by myself, at night. Sunset was at 5:48 PM (if memory serves) and it would be dark by 6:20. I needed to be out of the yard by 8:30 at the latest.
For those unfamiliar with boating and nautical charts, they look like a map but they are far more critical than road maps. A body of water as big as the Gulf Mexico is easy to draw on a regular map. However, to a sailboat with a draft of 4' 3" deep it is incredibly important to know how deep the water is at a given location. There are many places along the coast that look nice and deep over a mile from the shore that are really only 2' deep at low tide. Nautical charts show how deep or shallow given areas in great detail, as well as where certain navigational aids are located. Sailing without them in an unfamiliar area is fool hardy at best.
I decided to forego the charts and leave the boat yard ASAP.
I *had* studied the charts quite a bit the previous night so I had a pretty good idea of what markers I needed to hit to avoid shallow areas. Also, as I got underway, I called my cousin at the house and asked him to take the charts with him to work. As I needed course corrections I'd call him with my current GPS location and he could advise me which bearing I should follow.
This worked out pretty well. As I was skirting Sanibel Island I needed to find out how close I was to the shore. On the water you can see approximately 7 miles to the horizon, but its very difficult to judge how far away an object on the shore is. I knew I was closer than 7 miles, but I needed to be further than 2 miles or I'd come close to some very shallow water. I called Jimi up, gave him my coordinates, and he said I was 2.5 miles from the shore, and if I followed bearing 220 for another 4 miles I could start heading NW at about bearing 290.
I kept him appraised of my location every couple of hours and he pointed me in a new direction when needed. It worked rather well.
In the end, everything worked out just perfectly. I glided into my slip at around 6:15 PM or so... it wasn't quite dark as I was tying up the boat.
While everything turned out pretty well I'd have to say in hindsight that it was a pretty dumb move. I'd have been in deep trouble if I lost cell service while offshore. I was only about 4 miles off the coast at any given time, and I figured I'd be able to retain a signal, but it wasn't guaranteed. In fact, there was one point were I had no bars for about 45 minutes or so. Could I have made it anyway? Perhaps. There would have been a really tricky area between Boca Grande (the entrance to Charlotte Harbor) and the turn north to Punta Gorda that I could have conceivably ran into significant trouble.
Anyway, that all being said, it was a great trip. The Gulf of Mexico is absolutely beautiful and I can't wait to sail on it more.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Stuffing Box
As with nearly all previously used vehicles my boat has a few issues. Some of them are pretty minor and can be ignored or inexpensively fixed. However, others are not so simple. My current issue is the stuffing box.
If you have never heard of a stuffing box it is a like a bolt and nut system that joins the propeller shaft to the engine. At one end of the bolt is a rubber hose that is clamped on to the hull close to the propeller and the other end is the nut, which is hollow, that attaches to the engine. The hollow part has some special waxed rope in it that keeps the water coming up the shaft from spilling into the hull. (Detailed pictures at this site.)
My stuffing box has a leak. In fact, it was leaking so bad that my bilge pump was firing off about every 5 minutes while the engine was off. It wasn't leaking when the mechanic and I inspected the boat after I bought it. The implication is that the previous owner lied to me when he said he took the boat out frequently... it probably had not gone out in at least 6 months.
The site I referenced above with the pictures explains how to re-pack the stuffing box so that I could stop the leaking. However, this is much harder than the site imples when the stuffing box is still on a prop shaft and the boat is in the water. First, getting to the stuffing box is a huge challenge for somebody of my girth. It can only be reached through a cockpit locker (which is under a seat). I was able to squeeze myself into this narrow compartment (for which I am thankful nobody was nearby with a camera) however I was unable to get both my arms into the area where the stuffing box sits. With only one arm I was unable to apply the wrenches needed to move the nut.
Since the stuffing is not supposed to leak at all while the boat is just sitting in the water (as opposed to when the prop shaft is turning, in that case its supposed to leak a few drops a minute to lubricate the shaft) and in my case it was literally leaking 10 drops a second (I counted) I felt I needed to get this fixed ASAP. I called a few boat yards and finally found one in Fort Myers Beach... about a 7 hour trip from Joshua's house. My Aunt Mary, Bo, and I made a day of it and motored down there.
The trip was nice and relaxing. Its technically still on the Okeechobee Waterway, and the first 3 hours were just like a continuation of my previous trip. We had a lock and a couple of bridges to pass. we briefly entered the Gulf of Mexico as we made our way into the Matanzas Pass. We found the boat yard pretty easily and I met with the repairmen.
I left my engine running as I re-explained the problem to them. One of the smaller fellas there jumped in the locker to take a look at the issue first hand. His "Holy Shit! There's water spraying everywhere!" exclamation made me happy we got there safe.
Anyhow, a couple days have passed by since I got the boat there and the costs keep going up. The stuffing box was salvageable but the guys are cleaning it up nicely and re-packing it. The rubber hose was completely shot. It had rotted through in a few places and thats where the water was coming from. To replace the hose they had to completely remove the propshaft. This caused an issue because the prophaft was severely scored and frozen into place with the stuffing box. They had to cut the propshaft off which means I had to buy a new one of those. Also, there was a minor crack in the hull where the propshaft exits and this needed repaired too.
Over the phone this was supposed to cost me $500-600. Now its up to $1,400.
This is a HUGE set-back to me. I'm spending $1,400 on something completely unexpected. It had to be done, of course. Its better to spend the money than to sink. However, now I cannot afford the furling genoa and solar panels which were my first planned purchases. Grrr.
Anyhow. I pick the boat up tomorrow and I'm told it will take about 8 hours to motor from Fort Myers Beach to Punta Gorda Isles, which is where my slip is going to be for a few months while I continue working on the boat. This trip will be the first one I've done by myself on this boat. I'm a little nervous about it in some respects because I'll be entering Charlotte Harbor for the first time and its really nice to have somebody else helping watch for markers and whatnot while entering an unfamiliar harbor. Guess I'd better bone up on my charts now.
If you have never heard of a stuffing box it is a like a bolt and nut system that joins the propeller shaft to the engine. At one end of the bolt is a rubber hose that is clamped on to the hull close to the propeller and the other end is the nut, which is hollow, that attaches to the engine. The hollow part has some special waxed rope in it that keeps the water coming up the shaft from spilling into the hull. (Detailed pictures at this site.)
My stuffing box has a leak. In fact, it was leaking so bad that my bilge pump was firing off about every 5 minutes while the engine was off. It wasn't leaking when the mechanic and I inspected the boat after I bought it. The implication is that the previous owner lied to me when he said he took the boat out frequently... it probably had not gone out in at least 6 months.
The site I referenced above with the pictures explains how to re-pack the stuffing box so that I could stop the leaking. However, this is much harder than the site imples when the stuffing box is still on a prop shaft and the boat is in the water. First, getting to the stuffing box is a huge challenge for somebody of my girth. It can only be reached through a cockpit locker (which is under a seat). I was able to squeeze myself into this narrow compartment (for which I am thankful nobody was nearby with a camera) however I was unable to get both my arms into the area where the stuffing box sits. With only one arm I was unable to apply the wrenches needed to move the nut.
Since the stuffing is not supposed to leak at all while the boat is just sitting in the water (as opposed to when the prop shaft is turning, in that case its supposed to leak a few drops a minute to lubricate the shaft) and in my case it was literally leaking 10 drops a second (I counted) I felt I needed to get this fixed ASAP. I called a few boat yards and finally found one in Fort Myers Beach... about a 7 hour trip from Joshua's house. My Aunt Mary, Bo, and I made a day of it and motored down there.
The trip was nice and relaxing. Its technically still on the Okeechobee Waterway, and the first 3 hours were just like a continuation of my previous trip. We had a lock and a couple of bridges to pass. we briefly entered the Gulf of Mexico as we made our way into the Matanzas Pass. We found the boat yard pretty easily and I met with the repairmen.
I left my engine running as I re-explained the problem to them. One of the smaller fellas there jumped in the locker to take a look at the issue first hand. His "Holy Shit! There's water spraying everywhere!" exclamation made me happy we got there safe.
Anyhow, a couple days have passed by since I got the boat there and the costs keep going up. The stuffing box was salvageable but the guys are cleaning it up nicely and re-packing it. The rubber hose was completely shot. It had rotted through in a few places and thats where the water was coming from. To replace the hose they had to completely remove the propshaft. This caused an issue because the prophaft was severely scored and frozen into place with the stuffing box. They had to cut the propshaft off which means I had to buy a new one of those. Also, there was a minor crack in the hull where the propshaft exits and this needed repaired too.
Over the phone this was supposed to cost me $500-600. Now its up to $1,400.
This is a HUGE set-back to me. I'm spending $1,400 on something completely unexpected. It had to be done, of course. Its better to spend the money than to sink. However, now I cannot afford the furling genoa and solar panels which were my first planned purchases. Grrr.
Anyhow. I pick the boat up tomorrow and I'm told it will take about 8 hours to motor from Fort Myers Beach to Punta Gorda Isles, which is where my slip is going to be for a few months while I continue working on the boat. This trip will be the first one I've done by myself on this boat. I'm a little nervous about it in some respects because I'll be entering Charlotte Harbor for the first time and its really nice to have somebody else helping watch for markers and whatnot while entering an unfamiliar harbor. Guess I'd better bone up on my charts now.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Okeechobee Waterway
I bought my boat in Lantana, FL. This town is on the east coast of Florida, just south of West Palm Beach. I needed to get the boat from there to where I am going to keep it in Punta Gorda, FL which is on the west coast (just north of Fort Myers if you are looking at a map).
The best way to get from the one spot to the other is the Okeechobee Waterway. This system of locks and rivers runs east-west through the middle of Florida. It starts near Stuart on the east coast (about 45 miles or so north of Lantana) and ends in Fort Myers. It runs through the middle of Lake Okeechobee which is a very large lake sitting in the south central part of the state.
I did some fancy talking and was able to get my cousin Jimi to agree to go with me on this trip (expected to take 3 days). We had some company driving over to Lantana: my Aunt Mary (Jimi's mom), her husband Bo, and Jimi's daughter Arrielle. Mary went with us to take a look at the boat and to drive my car back to the west coast.
This adventure started on Saturday morning, Oct 25. This trip didn't start off too well. After stopping for a restroom break in a small town on the way there I got into an auto accident. Some gal was I backed into each other at a gas station. Technically she was at fault since she was back out of a parking space while I was already in the roadway, but the damage was minor and nobody was hurt. Still... not exactly the way I wanted to start a three day journey.
Anyhow, we got to Lantana and started working on the boat. We had to provision it which meant a run to the nearby supermarket, and we had to throw a lot of items out of the boat that had been there a while (old food, trash, etc). I had my charts and some other guides to the waterway. Around 4pm Jimi and I finally cast off and we started motoring up the Intra Coastal Waterway (ICW) towards Stuart.
10 minutes after casting we went under the first of many bridges. The bridge height was listed as 35'. Since my mast height is 31', and the previous had told me owner VHF antenna extended the mast to 34', we still had a foot clearance. Scary, but not a problem. The only snag is that the previous owner clearly didn't know what he was talking about. My antenna hit the bridge.
Argh! As we are passing under the bridge Jimi is looking up. "Hey. We hit the bridge." I wasn't sure if I heard him right so I looked myself. Sure enough, the antenna smacks a girder underneath the bridge. By this point its really too late to stop, so I try turning right where the bridge appears to have a tad bit more clearance. No help. On the last girder a 3 foot section of antenna splits off and falls into the water. Sigh. I feel sort of like Malcom Reynolds in the movie Serenity when a chunk of his ship falls off.
There's still a good 2-3 feet of antenna atop the mast and we can hear radio chatter. While this incident may have affected some range it appears to be minor and no reason to stop the trip.
We pass several more bridges without sinking or damaging the boat.
Because we got started so late, night came much earlier than I wanted. Darkness, combined with rain that came in intermittent bursts, was starting to make travel very difficult. After the sun went down Jimi had to take a flash light forward to see if he could hit the reflective channel markers so we could find our way up the ICW. We finally decided that it would be best to call it a night when we found a marina that had transient slips. It was almost 9pm when we finally arrived at one.
When we arrived at the marina entrance, it was hard to tell what to do. It was somewhat marked, but it was narrow and very hard to see. We decided to dock at a restaurant near the marina. We figured if we had something to eat at this restaurant, then they wouldn't mind if we parked the boat there while we walked to the marina and checked it out. This turned out to be a pretty good move. We were a little surprised they let us in as most of the patrons were really well dressed, and Jimi and I were wearing wet shorts and shirts. But they did. They had excellent fish chowder and a shrimp appetizer that Jimi and I split.
There are several minor injuries and funny stories to be told about here, but I think I'll just say that we finally were able to dock at a slip, get some sleep, shower the next morning, refuel the boat, and move on.
Sunday we made some good time as we sailed up the ICW. This part of the ICW is very picturesque, with million dollar mansions lining both sides of the waterway as we made our way to Stuart.
Stuart is the point where, if we continued north on the ICW, we could eventually go all the way to Chesapeake Bay, or we could hang a left and hit the Okeechobee Waterway. Hang a left we did. The bay we entered was absolutely nuts. Some parts of the waterway were so shallow that my depth finder was telling me we were water only 4'6" deep. Since my boat requires 4'3" before it goes aground my knuckles were white as a tried to follow Jimi's directions to the next channel marker.
We finally passed through that watery hell, stopped for some fuel, and then continued down the waterway to the first lock.
Locks, in my opinion, are insanely incredible human inventions. St. Lucie Lock raised us almost 8 feet. I think I have a couple pictures included of us entering or leaving a lock (we were both a little too busy for a camera while at the lock). For those that have never seen a lock, here is how it works in a nutshell. When the front doors are open we sail in and the lock employee directs us where to tie up. There are lines in the lock that we grab and loop around cleats on my boat. Then the front door closes and the back door opens and water comes flooding in (at a controlled, reasonable rate) until the water level inside the lock is the same as other side. The water is pumped out after we leave so he can open the front door for the next boat.
The locks are big enough for 3-4 boats and, of course, service traffic in both directions on the waterway, so its a tad more complicated than I describe above, but you get the picture.
From St. Lucie lock to the Fort Mayaca lock (which is the lock connected to the Okeechobee Lake) there really wasn't anything terribly interesting to write about (I am skipping the totally frustrating part were we got attacked by 20 million midges). The sun had set before we reached Fort Mayaca lock so we decided to tie up to some pilings for the night at the lock's entrance.
This turned out to be an incredibly great move.
The next morning (Monday) we were up early and through the lock by 7:15am or so. Okeechobee Lake is huge. There was lots of wind. With huge bodies of water and lots of wind comes really rough water conditions. We were getting 3-4' swells, coming very quickly, with so much wind that a lot of the swells were breaking. It would have been a nightmare trying to tie up to a piling in conditions like this, and we certainly would have gotten no sleep.
Crossing the lake was a very uncomfortable 4 hours.
The rest of the trip was more of the same. Bridges, a couple of locks, and lots of beautiful scenery. For the most part traveling this waterway is very peaceful and relaxing.
Unfortunately, due to various waits bridges and locks, and also the late start we got on Saturday, Jimi and I didn't get to our destination before nightfall and we didn't want to risk navigation errors in the dark. We stopped at a town called La Belle which had a public dock along the waterway. We tied up there and called for family members to come and pick us up. Jimi had to work the next morning and I felt a shower and a comfortable bed was in order.
The next day I drove back (its about a 45 minute drive from Jimi's house in Port Charlotte to La Belle) and finished the boat move to its temporary destination at my cousin Joshua's house which is located right on the Okeechobee waterway. It was only a two hour trip from La Belle to Josh's house and a couple of Josh's employees helped me with the move.
I've resisted the urge to tell a bunch of funny stories because a) I'm tired of typing, and b) you're probably tired of reading. Suffice to say, three days of travel with 2 people who haven't been down the traveled route on "new-to-me" boat creates tons more comical material than I've relayed here.
I have placed some pictures of this adventure on my Picasa site:
http://picasaweb.google.com/danny.agle/OkeechobeeWaterwayTrip#
The best way to get from the one spot to the other is the Okeechobee Waterway. This system of locks and rivers runs east-west through the middle of Florida. It starts near Stuart on the east coast (about 45 miles or so north of Lantana) and ends in Fort Myers. It runs through the middle of Lake Okeechobee which is a very large lake sitting in the south central part of the state.
I did some fancy talking and was able to get my cousin Jimi to agree to go with me on this trip (expected to take 3 days). We had some company driving over to Lantana: my Aunt Mary (Jimi's mom), her husband Bo, and Jimi's daughter Arrielle. Mary went with us to take a look at the boat and to drive my car back to the west coast.
This adventure started on Saturday morning, Oct 25. This trip didn't start off too well. After stopping for a restroom break in a small town on the way there I got into an auto accident. Some gal was I backed into each other at a gas station. Technically she was at fault since she was back out of a parking space while I was already in the roadway, but the damage was minor and nobody was hurt. Still... not exactly the way I wanted to start a three day journey.
Anyhow, we got to Lantana and started working on the boat. We had to provision it which meant a run to the nearby supermarket, and we had to throw a lot of items out of the boat that had been there a while (old food, trash, etc). I had my charts and some other guides to the waterway. Around 4pm Jimi and I finally cast off and we started motoring up the Intra Coastal Waterway (ICW) towards Stuart.
10 minutes after casting we went under the first of many bridges. The bridge height was listed as 35'. Since my mast height is 31', and the previous had told me owner VHF antenna extended the mast to 34', we still had a foot clearance. Scary, but not a problem. The only snag is that the previous owner clearly didn't know what he was talking about. My antenna hit the bridge.
Argh! As we are passing under the bridge Jimi is looking up. "Hey. We hit the bridge." I wasn't sure if I heard him right so I looked myself. Sure enough, the antenna smacks a girder underneath the bridge. By this point its really too late to stop, so I try turning right where the bridge appears to have a tad bit more clearance. No help. On the last girder a 3 foot section of antenna splits off and falls into the water. Sigh. I feel sort of like Malcom Reynolds in the movie Serenity when a chunk of his ship falls off.
There's still a good 2-3 feet of antenna atop the mast and we can hear radio chatter. While this incident may have affected some range it appears to be minor and no reason to stop the trip.
We pass several more bridges without sinking or damaging the boat.
Because we got started so late, night came much earlier than I wanted. Darkness, combined with rain that came in intermittent bursts, was starting to make travel very difficult. After the sun went down Jimi had to take a flash light forward to see if he could hit the reflective channel markers so we could find our way up the ICW. We finally decided that it would be best to call it a night when we found a marina that had transient slips. It was almost 9pm when we finally arrived at one.
When we arrived at the marina entrance, it was hard to tell what to do. It was somewhat marked, but it was narrow and very hard to see. We decided to dock at a restaurant near the marina. We figured if we had something to eat at this restaurant, then they wouldn't mind if we parked the boat there while we walked to the marina and checked it out. This turned out to be a pretty good move. We were a little surprised they let us in as most of the patrons were really well dressed, and Jimi and I were wearing wet shorts and shirts. But they did. They had excellent fish chowder and a shrimp appetizer that Jimi and I split.
There are several minor injuries and funny stories to be told about here, but I think I'll just say that we finally were able to dock at a slip, get some sleep, shower the next morning, refuel the boat, and move on.
Sunday we made some good time as we sailed up the ICW. This part of the ICW is very picturesque, with million dollar mansions lining both sides of the waterway as we made our way to Stuart.
Stuart is the point where, if we continued north on the ICW, we could eventually go all the way to Chesapeake Bay, or we could hang a left and hit the Okeechobee Waterway. Hang a left we did. The bay we entered was absolutely nuts. Some parts of the waterway were so shallow that my depth finder was telling me we were water only 4'6" deep. Since my boat requires 4'3" before it goes aground my knuckles were white as a tried to follow Jimi's directions to the next channel marker.
We finally passed through that watery hell, stopped for some fuel, and then continued down the waterway to the first lock.
Locks, in my opinion, are insanely incredible human inventions. St. Lucie Lock raised us almost 8 feet. I think I have a couple pictures included of us entering or leaving a lock (we were both a little too busy for a camera while at the lock). For those that have never seen a lock, here is how it works in a nutshell. When the front doors are open we sail in and the lock employee directs us where to tie up. There are lines in the lock that we grab and loop around cleats on my boat. Then the front door closes and the back door opens and water comes flooding in (at a controlled, reasonable rate) until the water level inside the lock is the same as other side. The water is pumped out after we leave so he can open the front door for the next boat.
The locks are big enough for 3-4 boats and, of course, service traffic in both directions on the waterway, so its a tad more complicated than I describe above, but you get the picture.
From St. Lucie lock to the Fort Mayaca lock (which is the lock connected to the Okeechobee Lake) there really wasn't anything terribly interesting to write about (I am skipping the totally frustrating part were we got attacked by 20 million midges). The sun had set before we reached Fort Mayaca lock so we decided to tie up to some pilings for the night at the lock's entrance.
This turned out to be an incredibly great move.
The next morning (Monday) we were up early and through the lock by 7:15am or so. Okeechobee Lake is huge. There was lots of wind. With huge bodies of water and lots of wind comes really rough water conditions. We were getting 3-4' swells, coming very quickly, with so much wind that a lot of the swells were breaking. It would have been a nightmare trying to tie up to a piling in conditions like this, and we certainly would have gotten no sleep.
Crossing the lake was a very uncomfortable 4 hours.
The rest of the trip was more of the same. Bridges, a couple of locks, and lots of beautiful scenery. For the most part traveling this waterway is very peaceful and relaxing.
Unfortunately, due to various waits bridges and locks, and also the late start we got on Saturday, Jimi and I didn't get to our destination before nightfall and we didn't want to risk navigation errors in the dark. We stopped at a town called La Belle which had a public dock along the waterway. We tied up there and called for family members to come and pick us up. Jimi had to work the next morning and I felt a shower and a comfortable bed was in order.
The next day I drove back (its about a 45 minute drive from Jimi's house in Port Charlotte to La Belle) and finished the boat move to its temporary destination at my cousin Joshua's house which is located right on the Okeechobee waterway. It was only a two hour trip from La Belle to Josh's house and a couple of Josh's employees helped me with the move.
I've resisted the urge to tell a bunch of funny stories because a) I'm tired of typing, and b) you're probably tired of reading. Suffice to say, three days of travel with 2 people who haven't been down the traveled route on "new-to-me" boat creates tons more comical material than I've relayed here.
I have placed some pictures of this adventure on my Picasa site:
http://picasaweb.google.com/danny.agle/OkeechobeeWaterwayTrip#
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