Salvio Sails!

Hello everybody I am about to tell you about our day but first I have to tell you that I am not Susan. I am Lily. Okay, now that you it’s me, I can start telling you about our day.

We have started our real adventure, which everybody knows is sailing. We started motoring but once we got to the ocean we pulled out the jib and turned off the motor and started sailing through blue and crystal clear waters.

“Do you want to drive?” my Dad asked. “Sure” I said back. So I put my life jacket on and went up to the drivers seat and stood up on it. I started steering the boat… But when we started heeling I said “No thanks” and ran back downstairs and started playing on my Kindle again.

Chickadee had her first offshore romp today, and Lordy, it was beautiful. We woke to chilly temps in the 60s after the front last night, and set off after ‘school’. On our way out of Ft. Lauderdale we passed Steven Spielberg’s yacht, and other subtle pieces of property, yacht and otherwise:

We had the wind behind us with enough of a wind angle to sail comfortably, and we surfed our way south to Miami.

While Andy and I had a grand old time sailing, watching flying fish, watching serious windsurfers training for something (presumably serious) while completely rejuvenating our love of offshore sailing, the girls enjoyed the day like this:

Zombies, really, but we’ve made it a point to let them have fairly free reign on board down below when we’re underway. Lily had a knockdown scare on an Opti during her first year of sailing camp a few years ago, and while she’s happy to be living aboard, her fear of heeling is a thing she often talks about. The practice of heeling in reality has proven to be much more manageable than what she imagines (surprise, surprise), which has been huge for her.  We figure that any way she can learn to enjoy, and feel more comfortable with the inevitable, the better. (In fact she barely mentioned the motion at all today, and V is as oblivious as ever to any change from anchor down to rail down.)

We oohed and ahhed at the crazy scope of Miami harbor, with its island full of Coast Guard cutters, the Port of Miami unloading huge Maersk container ships at warp speed, car carriers running to and from Fisher Island, float planes taking off and landing, jet skis and cigarette boat tours (crazy and deafening but true), and glittering condo high rises all around us. So much to look at it.

We’re now safely on a mooring on the outer fringes of Dinner Cay Marina’s vast mooring field, and we’re sated from the often searched-for but not-always-found cheap street tacos (CHECK!), and a nice stroll around Coconut Grove. Nighty night!

After a truly wonderful four days here in Ft. Lauderdale, we’re pushing south tomorrow. We’ll hop outside the waterway for a sail down to Miami, which should be a nice day of westerly winds following the wild weather that blew through earlier tonight. (Fortunately most of the intensity that crossed the state today disappated before it got to us- we’ve had a gorgeous sunny day (albeit windy), only recently punctuated by a five minute rain storm.)

Thanks to our generous hosts here, we’ve filled our tanks, completed some tasks onboard (waterproofed the bimini, finished installing netting on the starboard side to hold gear in, washed the boat down, etc.) and spent a LOT of time in the pool.

You’re about to think to yourself ‘enough already about the birds!’, but seriously. The birds. We went for a stroll in the neighborhood and looked up to see a peacock heading our way down the sidewalk. As in, a real peacock. As in, not in a zoo. (Do I need to get out more?) It really was bizarre, and we watched it casually cruise into a neighbor’s driveway, not caring one tail feather about us standing there goggling at it.

The canals that reach into the city like hundreds of fingers make narrow strips of land packed with giant estates and accessed by charming little bridges; the walk gave us plenty to gawk at once more. But really, who needs interesting architecture and the work of every kind of contractor possible to check out when you have fancy garbage trucks?

Later in the day we saw a flock of bright green birds swarm into a palm overhead. As we learned from our hostess, they are non-native wild parrots that were once upon a time released from domesticity. As seems to happen, they are plenty of them now, squawking this way and that, asking for crackers. (Kidding, except for the godforsaken squawking.)

More pool time today was welcomed by this guy,

who I have come to think is a black crowned night heron, but I could be wrong. Violet practically tickled his toes from the water before he flew off though; we’re starting to be ‘those’ bird people.

Tomorrow we’ll hopefully shift from bird to fish, since Andy worked on our rod tonight and I just know that a mahi is planning on swimming out of the Gulf Stream to snag our line. (I did hear recently that bananas on board are bad luck for fishing, so hopefully I remember to serve them all for breakfast.)

After a pitiful attempt at school work since we were racing the boat back and forth through the bridge for our pump out, we went to the beach armed with our new gear. The waves were fun, but our $7.99 kadima racket set won the day. I’ve been sad to be missing paddle and lamenting the fact that we couldn’t fit our tennis rackets aboard, but this solved the problem! We’re hooked.

We caught up with family friends for lunch, which was such a treat, despite feeling like schlubs needing to be chauffeured in our car-less state. Our acquaintance list is dear and gratiously so accommodating of our ‘ways’, a fact we are so grateful for.

This afternoon we moved off of the mooring to the dock in front of the lovely home of Andy’s former boss, and our indebtedness for all that’s been bestowed upon us in these past few weeks grows bigger still. Good company every step of the way, great sights to take in, and a few iguanas:

Our plan is to stay in the Ft. Lauderdale area for a few days and noodle around a bit more before headed outside the waterway to jump down to Miami. Since we’ve taken the Bahamas off the table for this year due to the extremely unsettled weather they’ve been having, our adjusted goal to get to the Keys and Dry Tortugas is well within reach. Here we [slowly] go!

You know you’re making cruising strides when a productive day means one where you’ve found a place for trash, secured a black water pump out and managed to get the laundry done; by golly, today was productive.

We left the anchorage early this morning to get ahead of potential weekend waterway traffic, and we were indeed alone for much of our multi-bridge passing journey.

More scenic homes to gawk at along the way- a posted police officer and security guards at this particular estate prompted us to look it up- it’s for sale if anyone wants to relocate to warmer climes, FYI (although a more recent listing shows that the price has been INcreased to $159 million instead):

http://www.wsj.com/articles/a-mansion-in-floridas-hillsboro-beach-is-palatially-priced-at-139-million-1409851353

We actually found an empty mooring at Las Olas Marina, two blocks from the beach, and we spent the day reveling partly in our happiness to be supplied with so much people-watching fodder, and partly with the knowledge that we have a multi-day stay planned where we AREN’T waiting for parts for broken systems. (Although it’s a boat, so there will be something before long, I’m sure.) As we keep pointing out to one another, we’re lucky not to have a pressuring schedule, and to have found each ‘situation’ as we did and not when we were in a time or place with fewer options.

Our engine has been completely rewired, our starter is new, we have a new raw water pump at the ready for replacement in our next down time, our spare parts and tool chests are taking better shape, and we’re finally getting an accurate gauge of our fuel, propane, water and holding tank usages, which is quite necessary to know.

We spent the afternoon at the beach with our eyes out on sticks.  Austin shouldn’t count its chicks before they hatch on the race to weirdom; Ft. Lauderdale might have it beat. While we spent beach time watching tankers and cargo ships anchored off shore waiting for their space in port, and jet skiers, paragliders, helicopters, cigarette boats and catamaran tours whizzing by, we took a walk later in the day on the main drag, and, oh my. I felt so far out of so many loops it was dizzying. There were dogs in a variety of fashion-forward duds, parrots on bikes, bike taxi drivers waxing their dreads while waiting for fares, lots of people able to unironically wear the shirt ‘Sun’s Out, Guns Out’ based on levels of apparent vanity and an actual discussion of reps and weights overheard in passing, thumping music from every passing tricked-out car (why do the passengers always look so bored?), groups of people pulling their mini-amps in small rolling luggage, and the fashion, wow, the fashion range. What’s crazy is that I was in South Beach two months ago, which now seems like Southwest Harbor in comparison. Ah, well, it’s certainly just this particular bumpkin’s take, but I can’t wait to go back tomorrow.

We also bought more junk to riddle the deck with while underway-boogie boards and kadima paddles for further beach time- I hear the sailing Clampetts never leave home without them.

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Andy once again saved our day by being a mechanic, an electrician and an all-around good sport. After dumping us at the friendly neighboring resort to play all day, he got to spend six hours rewiring the important bits necessary for ignition ‘sin fuego’.

We pretended to be useful in the morning while he made hardware and West Marine runs, and then we were shore-bound. Some examples of our work:

But really, we had the greatest day. The beach attendant at the resort was wonderful, and we were gifted with every imaginable toy to pass the time with- kites, boogie boards, a skim board, soccer balls, sand toys, etc. etc. The girls were ecstatic, and I was too; they ran with kites for hours, tumbled in the surf, and played in the shade of our cabana when the heat was too much. Five hours after THAT, we moved to the pool and blended drinks.  (Andy was still upside down in the laz, no doubt loving life and feeling joy for his family.)

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Once he finished his masterful task he picked us up, and for the sake of making forward motion, we motored just a bit down the waterway to Lake Boca Raton. We now sit surrounded by high rise condos intermingled with schwanky properties packed with Romanesque arbors, pools, enormous houses, docks and the inevitably humongous sport fishing boats. The waterway is still great fun to go through, but I’m beginning to feel like there are only so many ways to pack all of those amenities into a quarter of an acre.

Not sure what tomorrow holds, but I’m definitely sure that the next 30 seconds has sleep in i….

 

Another day, another part needed. After a sleepless night in a stiff breeze while rafted up, with multiple anchor checks and no real deep sleep to speak of, we breakfasted and prepared to set off.

Joke’s on us! A beat and a half into turning the ignition key and Andy had me quickly turn off the batteries: the ignition switch and wiring harness it tied into were newly as overcooked as the bacon I burned for breakfast (I’m here all night, folks). Sooooo, more parts to order, more parts to replace. Ironically the pain and suffering of these setbacks only means better confidence in the boat- soon every last thing will be outfitted with brand new parts! (Although this really is a comforting thought, our brains were a little fuzzy from lack of sleep to get really excited about that as we waved off fumes of smoking wire.)

Our main issue here is that we are essentially anchored in a residential waterway cul-de-sac, spanning off of more residential canals and streets- we’re a long way from ‘town’ or anything useful to our specific needs. With a ‘winging it’ plan in mind, we banked the dinghy across the ICW in the only patch of sand for miles (it’s metal or concrete retaining walls as far as the eye can see) and strode into a hotel across the street to beg for assistance.

Not only were they wonderful and immediately forthcoming with ways to help, but two minutes into the conversation we learned that the manager is from Hamden, Maine, and he ran a hotel in Bar Harbor for years working for the same company that he’s employed by now. He shares golf buddies with Andy (in differing seasons), and used to sail both here and in Maine. Small circles we so often find ourselves in.

Long story long, parts are en route from California to arrive at our new favorite hotel tomorrow morning at 9:30, and we only had to sell one child to pay for the overnight delivery, whew.

We played a lot of games in the cockpit this afternoon, attempted Friday night movie night until the computer died (no way to charge the batteries without the engine or solar panels in the sun), and now we sleep to hope that tomorrow has a little more mile-making promise.

(Photos aren’t loading well either, so I apologize for the word-heavy/Lily-Violet-light post.)

What a funny/fun day we’ve had. Waking up in Lake Worth was pleasant, but after breakfast in the cockpit we all tucked below for the entire morning for the girls to do schoolwork with me while Andy dismantled enough of the engine to be able to replace the starter (thankfully removing the alternator was enough for good access). The schooling was a bear for all three of us today, for whatever reasons of impatience and frustration, but the starter was essentially an enjoyable breeze for Andy. What must have helped was the Tangled soundtrack that we blared after work was through and all three of us were coloring- I hear most engine shops keep Disney music at-the-ready at all times for motivational purposes.

While packing up and planning a trip to shore we checked the wind forecast and changed our minds; we hoisted anchor and set off instead. One plan was to forgo the ‘Canyon’ section of the ICW (named for its concrete sides and subsequent reverb of frustrating wakes) and to jump offshore to head to Ft. Lauderdale or further to Miami, but weather patterns dictate our life, and the shifted forecast urged us to either wait for three or four more days (which we didn’t want to do), or use The Ditch. The Canyon isn’t recommended on weekends with heavy boat traffic, so today was our day.

What a great decision! After yesterday’s intro to bridge traffic, and the first couple of today’s bridges having a crowd of fellow boaters to frustratingly jockey around in the current and tide with while waiting for openings, we fell into a rhythm and were able to enjoy our surroundings. Palm Beach was a sight to behold as we passed one mega yacht after another, crews polishing away like mad. It’s funny to think that we were there once (although nothing ‘mega’, for sure!), and it is a great reminder that we’re now in control of our own destiny, even if we DO have to pay for the West Marine runs out of our own pockets (blerg).

Channel traffic thinned to almost nothing, we hauled our jib out to help us ‘speed up’ to catch bridge opening times, and we spent hours gawking at incredible homes and vessels of the rich and maybe famous.

I had thought that the concrete walls would be high and view-inhibitive, but they were simply retaining walls that held bajillionaires pools and waterfalls in place. With no other boat traffic creating jarring wakes, it was delightful. Once I softened to the blaringly Floridian architecture that seems to use Spanish and Roman touches to the extreme and not always in my palette of acceptance (diplomatic enough?), I started pining for an afternoon on any given veranda, cold drink in hand to watch the boats come and go. I could have found a comfy spot here, for instance:

We tucked into a little man-made circular anchorage in Delray Beach called Pelican Harbor, where upon prepping the anchor for Andy to set, I managed the ‘Winner Move of the Day!’ when I released a line holding the chain (in my defense I was assuming (without checking-ha!) that we had a cotter pin holding the actual anchor in its sheave), and urped about 80′ of chain into a pile on the bottom in 12′ of water, all in the middle of the entrance channel. Super sweet. Not one to have someone else clean up my mistakes, I passed on Andy’s offer to switch places and hoisted the mother-bleeping chain back up myself. And hey, guess what? Our windlass doesn’t work! Thank goodness I rarely let my pride interfere with necessary amends since Pelican Harbor is a literal fishbowl with 360 degrees of people able to check out my less-than-stellar maneuver.

The good news is that once we properly set the anchor, we held, which is more than we could say for our only neighbor in the anchorage. The poor guy dragged and reset, dragged and reset, and an hour or so later took us up on our offer to raft up. Now we are rafted with Crumb, a Sovereign 24 and her skipper/owner Andy, who is a self-described novice sailor who bought his boat for $200 three months ago and is slowly making his way to the Keys and the job that’s waiting for him there.

After feeling like a minuscule dot of a boat all day in the shadows of giant yachts, the turnaround was abrupt in feeling how lucky we are to have this ‘big’ cruiser. We sat in our cockpit for a beer and looked over at wee Crumb, feeling all bloated with our standing headroom and refrigeration; imagine that! Eh, until tomorrow, when the super yachts of Ft. Lauderdale put us back in our place.

Judging by the fancy pants high rise condos on the west side and the plasticine mansions on the east, I’d say this lake is worth plenty. (The anchorage is spacious, the bug count nil, and the neighbors are friendly: priceless.)

We had another lovely day getting from A to B. Waking to a gusty morning in Peck Lake, we mosied through our morning routine (leisurely coffee and breakfast in the cockpit followed by not-so-leisurely finishing up of the Monopoly game down below (I won for the first time in history, but apparently no one in this family wants to talk about it), and then schoolwork).

Our 25nm day today included hauling out partial jib for the first downwind stretch (after so long to get to this point, Bill Murray’s “I’m sailing!!” whilst strapped to the mast in What About Bob was the only thing going through my mind for 30 full minutes), which was satisfying to a higher-SOG extent, but frustrating for the inevitable tacking and trim necessary for waterway weaving.

After we rolled the sail back in for our first of six bridge passings, Andy had three separate manatee sightings while the rest of us scrambled to catch glimpses of glistening manatee backs as they resubmerged. We also saw seemingly every other Hinckley jet boat ever produced tied up in front of slick houses, and a TON of boat traffic.

 

Most of the traffic was welcomed for a good measure of people/boat watching, but as we were waked by a large boat flying by a mere 8 ft off our side which sent people and things flying, we were soured a bit by the nearly-always true truism of inverse relationships of engine size (or truck height/size for you landlubbers) to, er… other body parts and general confidence. An easy lesson in general courtesy was dispatched to the girls when they came up after the mayhem.

We dried things off in the sunny sunshine and steamed ahead to Lake Worth, where we have dropped the hook, walked into town (A1A in Florida- joy of joys), and are settling down for two nights so that Andy can replace the starter tomorrow, which I know will be a real hoot for him.

We escaped the trains! Night one of our time in Florida (save for our Naples sojourn) to sleep without the feeling that a 45-car freight train isn’t bearing down upon my pillow; I’m far more excited about it than anyone else. I didn’t realize that those things had so intensely become my nemeses.

We are in a gorgeous ‘bulb’ off of the ICW called Peck Lake, and Florida has never looked so good: the still sweetness of mangroves and palms, only a few other boats in the anchorage, a dinghy hop to shore to sneak under an arbor of sea grape to the expanse of white sand beaches, and did I mention that I haven’t heard a train?

We arrived here this afternoon after a beautiful and uneventful trip from Stuart. We wove our way out of the St. Lucie inlet under a constant stream of private jets (who are all of those people?!) and past their mansions (seriously, WHO?! The locale just doesn’t make sense to us..) to enter the Intercoastal and to ‘hang a right’. We saw a pod of dolphins, osprey, and plenty of herons, egrets and goofy-as-ever pelicans. (Fun fact: a pelican can hold up to 3 gallons of water in its pouch, if need be.) The best part of our fairly short journey is that the water has shifted from the molasses ick of the Okeechobee waterway to water clear enough to -gasp- see through! At least down to the third rung of our swim ladder, which seems like a huge step in the right direction.

As it turns out, Violet simply needs a stack of paper and a pair of scissors to make her world go round, so she spent the travel time down below mincing construction paper into a lot of little pieces that all have detailed meaning and specific purpose. She came above to explain each intracacy as we were bopping about getting ready to set the anchor, a distraction not necessarily welcome but at least we now all know how to get to Cheetah’s house and all about the new garland she’s stringing.

Upon arrival we yipped with glee at our surroundings, jumped into Flipper (surprise! the dinghy’s been named) and headed ashore.

Afternoon on the beach, sun showers on deck, a perfect sunset, a delicious dinner and a game of travel Monopoly with the smallest bills I have ever seen, and like that, we’re toast. ‘Til tomorrow!