sailingesme

[sailingesme]

Pablo Escobar and lazy rivers

5/23/25

Norman cay airplane crash site. Sweet snorkeling, Pablo Escobar’s drug island hideout. We did a homeschool DARE unit. If you know you know. Plane was filled with cocaine. But not anymore. Now it’s fish and coral. Lots of tour boats from Nassau showed up just as we left, each boat had 5 motors and probably goes 50 knots.

Next stop, beautiful anchorage in the middle of aqua seas, shroud cay. Went up the lazy dinghy river, so peaceful. Sea turtles and rays. It is a weird feeling trying to disconnect from the daily grind. I feel unproductive, like I should be doing something important.

But watching my kids with their friends from the Dizzie, chasing sea turtles and swimming in perfect water, I wonder, is there anything more important?

Great laughs about eating the pigs at pig beach at the Dizzie boat in the evening, and pulled anchor this morning.

Now at Warderick Wells, part of the land and sea national park. I’ve realized everyone gets extremely grouchy on passages, especially if the motor is running the whole time. They are boring, long and uneventful, which is what you want. But you have to keep your own mind busy. I cannot even imagine crossing the pacific. 5 weeks!

How do you keep your sanity? Or even multiple days crossing right now sounds intimidating. Hopefully you have good weather, but it can become so mundane, where do you let your mind go? How do you keep your mind from going.

Wardrick wells requires a park fee, and the snorkeling is evidently amazing. I hope to climb this hill behind the mooring tonight at sunset. 

[sailingesme]

Sailing Parallels Part 2

May 16, 2025

Cursing, he sat down to look at it. ‘Shit, this is deep enough I should probably get stitches’. I was quickly realizing what it would mean that Jimi is not able to walk for several days, and my fear of raising these sails while getting tossed by waves was starting to become my reality. No matter, we had to address the crisis at hand first. Clear headed I looked him hard in the eye and said, ‘Ok, jimi, you come over here, screw the sails for now, and sit down and watch the helm.’ The auto helm was acting squirrelly so we needed someone on it. ‘I’m going to find everything in my first aid kit that you need to avoid an infection and get this thing healed up as quickly as possible’. As I saw distress and frustration befalling Jimi’s face, what choice did I have in that moment but to keep as cool and calm as possible. We can’t both lose our shit. We could deconstruct what went wrong later when everything was dealt with. Luckily I had spent quite a lot of time in St Pete, when we were in the boat yard, on our first aid kit. Here we go, first test. The cut was right between his toes, so we wouldn’t be able to use any of those steri-strip stitches. We’d have to use skin glue. And then tape the toes and hope it healed. So once I gathered all the cleaning supplies, and gauze and tape, and glue and a bucket, I came up and took the helm and instructed jimi on cleaning his foot. I don’t think I could ever be a nurse. Sure I like learning about medicine and healing and what not, but as soon as I looked at the cut as he pulled his toes apart to clean it, I nearly vomited. Deep cut. Blech. Ok focus on steering the boat.   Once that catastrophe was managed, we deconstructed what went wrong. ‘We have to have a game plan the night before, and if one of us is pulling the anchor, especially in these conditions, we have to be on the same page and communicating readiness. We cannot afford to NOT be on the same page, that’s when people get hurt.’ I said. Too bad our marriage counselor can’t see us now! Jimi was still a bit in shock, and didn’t say much, but nodded.

Onward to the north berry islands. Needless to say, I managed the sails all day, whether or not I wanted to. Which I did not. But I had to. And it was good for me, even though it scared the crap out of my getting jostled all over next to the mast. We have a harness I can clip in with, but even so, it’s a huge pain in the ass working those sails. The weather looked really bad, so we decided to go into a poorly named anchorage called ‘slaughter cay’. It also happened to be an island owned by the Royal Caribbean cruise line and used for its ‘private island’ cruise port. The whole thing reminded me of that game I used to play called rollercoaster tycoon, where you’d build a theme park and get people to come to it. This place even had a rollercoaster. Though I slept like a baby and it was a well protected anchorage, we wanted to go somewhere at least a bit more interesting where we could get to land (they would not let you come to land so you didn’t disrupt the paying cruisers), to wait out the storms. So onward we went to Soldier Cay, just a bit more south. Totally protected, and our own private island, this was where we weathered the weather for 3 days. 

[sailingesme]

Sailing parallels

5/16/25

What a boring week. What an exciting week. There was a major storm that came through right after we crossed the Gulf Stream to Bimini. The wind was off our nose the whole day so we motored the entire way to Bimini. Felt like frogger dodging cruise ships and shipping barges. Our friends on The Dizzie stayed one more day in Miami waiting on new lithium batteries. Game changer. Checking in to the Bahamas was more of a fiasco than we realized. We docked and the dockmaster scolded us for not checking in online through Click2Clear. We didn’t realize! We pled ignorance. ‘Ok ok,’ he said in his Bahamas accent ‘you be lucky the lady at the desk is not the mean lady today!’ So we filled out our immigration and customs forms inside at an old HP computer. The customs forms are lengthier than just a regular visit to a foreign country because we have a boat and technically we’re ‘importing’ the boat. After filling the forms, we go to the not-mean lady at the counter and tell her we’re done. ‘Ok, and you have already you immigration papers ya?’ She says in her Bahamas accent that is way toned down and much easier to understand for us non-island people. A second ago she was talking to her friend and I couldn’t even understand what they were saying. Immigration papers? No…’ ‘what! You guys do nothing! Why you do nothing?!’ She scolded us. Shaking her head in a friendly way she handed us another stack of papers to fill out. Once that was finally done, we were directed over to first the immigration office and then customs. The immigration office was across the busy little town filled with a mix of locals speeding by on scooters or golf carts with no care for who is walking on the street or not, and white tourists with confused looks (I’m sure our faces were just as confused), also in golf carts. A couple of beat up cars, and houses jam packed together. There was hardly room for two cars to drive next to each other (on the opposite side of the street by the way, ie: former British colony), much less for people on foot to walk. For such a tiny island, it was quite bustling. There was room for only two roads really and the rest was buildings, and water, everywhere water.

And the water!! I have never in my life seen such clear water, other than in a swimming pool. Crystal clear, shades of turquoise and teal. Aquamarines and azure. Immigration took the captain Jimi less than 30 minutes to get passports stamped, and then we headed to customs to pay for the entry and finally we were checked in!

We were gonna try to leave that day to avoid the incoming weather and make it to the Berrys, but it was getting too late by then. So we sailed about halfway to a place called Mackey shoals. It was something out of a dream. We anchored with no land in sight, the moon nearly full, casting a light glow all over the water. It was only about 10 feet deep all around us, so the sand glowed under the moon and the water was just a light green with hints of blue as the sun was setting. It reminded me of some endless wonderland, a blank canvas and a dreamlike vista at once. Like those sailing paintings you see where there is just a boat and three colors and no white caps. And the moon. Or the scenes in movies where the main character walks through water to visit with god in the sky, and no one gets wet. And then two dolphins came up and completed the picture. You could see every detail of the dolphin as the water was perfectly clear. They had small stripes and spots like freckles on their heads. Take that serene moment, and by the next morning at 2am the wind had kicked up to 17 knots and there was no protection and our boat was rocking so badly I began getting nauseous as I was sleeping. Jimi of course, magically slept through it all. By 6am we were fighting to get the anchor up but the waves were slapping us up and down so hard it was nearly impossible.

Jimi slowly motored forward while I quickly worked the windlass to pull the anchor up. And slowly like that we were eventually free. Though we originally planned to head to the south Berrys we were realizing the distance to the north part of the island chain was the same and the protection from what was looking like a pretty serious storm was significantly better. And we’d be able to sail some of it, saving us fuel. We hadn’t quite arrived at this decision when Jimi was starting to get the main sail ready to raise and kicked hard the propellor of our dinghy motor that we have strapped to the deck for longer passages. He hobbled back to the cockpit and I could tell it was serious as his face grimaced and blood was pouring out of his foot. Oh no….

[sailingesme]

Squall vs Storm Part 2

It’s a giant , black, lightning filled, mushroom shaped storm. Still pretty far off, but we were heading north and right towards it. I barely had cell service but was able to see the radar on my NOAA weather that showed it as a sizable storm, but moving north of Miami and maybe a little east. It’s not supposed to go towards us. We may catch the tail end of the perimeter of it, but that’s probably it. I text my dad on our satellite phone, get a weather report from our Garmin INreach and neither can confirm that the storm will be on top of us. Butttt it sure looks like it might be coming our way.

‘Why didn’t we know about this? Did anyone check the weather?’ Says Jimi anxiously.

‘I checked the weather several times yesterday and again this morning, and the only thing I saw was rain in key Biscayne later tonight, which is why we were trying to get up there early so we could have our anchor set before that. But this is something that just popped up’. I say.

Isolated thunderstorms as they call them. We’re at the time of year where the weather around here can develop extremely fast, and be terrifyingly unpredictable. Like this.

‘I think it’s coming right for us’ says Jimi real worry surfacing.

‘No way, it says it’s staying north, and somewhat east’. I said in denial, as if saying that will make it true.

‘Yeah but my eyeballs say that thing is coming more east towards us faster than it’s heading north. Whatever it says, I think we need to turn around and try to outrun it’. Jimi, a determined hint of panic in his voice.

At that moment my phone got a tiny bar of service and

“We are back up to 14kn apparent now, go figure. Could be sucking into that storm in Miami.  We can put our head sail away quickly if we need to.

The weather radar on Windy shows a pretty crazy storm.

We are turning around and running south.”

3 messages from Lynita within 10 minutes of each other. All I have service to respond with is,

‘Same. Very scary.’

So jimi starts turning the boat south, but no matter how far he turns it, it won’t head south.

‘Why can’t I turn south! It’s sucking me west, straight for shore, and the storm’.

‘What do you mean!!?’ I feel anxiety and fluttering in my stomach, this is not the feeling I had before the squall. That was almost exciting, not this, this is flat out scary. There was no lightning in that one, remember? This is different, a feeling of actual fear is surfacing in my stomach, rising through my shoulders.

‘I think I’m gonna put that little sail up, at least it will balance us and may even help push us in the right direction.’ Says Jimi.

So I take the helm, and can feel the struggle Esme is under, not quite able to go the direction we’re asking of her. We both agree we may as well just try and head to the anchorage that’s due west of us, or get to a point where we can ride it out, because at this point it’s becoming pretty clear, that storm is definitely moving east faster than north. And we are definitely going to be in it very soon. Jimi clips his harness to the mast as he raises the small staysail to help balance us. At this point we both have rain jackets on, life jackets on, and are getting ready.

Suddenly a gush of cold air comes over the starboard side and now my fear is real. And while it’s there, it doesn’t cause me to panic. More so I feel my body fire into action . Ready to steer this boat safely. We’ve dropped speed significantly, because now we’re fighting the wind and the Gulf Stream, going into it this time instead of with it. ‘Get ready!!!!!!’ Screams jimi as the wind picks up, and the waves start to swell into huge peaks. No idea how to measure waves, but if I were to guess, 10? 15 feet? 20? I don’t know, but the bow of the boat pitched down, glided down the wave and pitched back up for another. It was like riding a horse down a very steep mountain, and the mountain is crumbling all around. ‘Please take care of us Esme’. In some translations, ‘Esme’ is the protector. The beloved. ‘Sorry about all those mean things I said about you, Esme. You’re doing great, just a little longer. We continued heading west, south, south west, running from the storm. Jimi had done all he could and was now in the cockpit with me. ‘I dont think there’s much more we can do, but ride it out!’ We continue to head south, because that kept the sail filled, but the waves were coming from the west, and at one point one of the waves was so huge, it crashed over the deck, and tipped our boat violently, the mast going near parallel to the horizon. ‘I have to keep the boat heading west, so we don’t get broadsided!!!!’ My blood was pumping as I steered the boat over the waves, water crashing over every side.

At one point I felt tears coming out of my eyes when I saw how close the lightning was, the fear threatening to over take me. But I willed it to move into my hands, to take action and to keep us on course. This wasn’t a squall. This was a violent storm. We pitched and rolled, and rocked and water crashed and I kept steering, until finally it began to slow down. I have no idea how long it lasted. My guess is maybe an hour. But finally, finally I saw the clouds begin to part, the storm breaking up, the rain slowing. And within 30 minutes, the ocean acted like nothing had happened. Both jimi and I soaked, exhausted, the ocean, a tantruming 3 year old, back to a state of peace, having gotten out of her system. I gave the helm to jimi, and went to check on the kids. ‘Are you guys ok? Was that scary’? ‘Meh, not bad, just a little rolling around.’ They had been playing video games through the whole thing. And then I got service and a message from Lynita: ‘Holy moly we got smashed by the storm. Avoided the lightning but the rest was pretty intense. Or wind meter stopped working at 40kn. We are now anchored, getting dry and warm. Will  continue to Key Biscayne soon. How are you guys? Where are you guys?’. They’re safe, we’re safe, we made it. Very shaken. Ready for bed. Oh and that rain that was actually in the forecast, it came, right on time. Very light, followed by a double rainbow.

[sailingesme]

Squall vs Storm Part 1

‘Fair winds does not a good sailor make’, my father in law’s words echo in my head as the rain pours in sheets sideways into our boat, jimi and I both sopping within seconds. ‘I sure am glad we reefed before this hit!!’ I yell over the din of the pounding rain and crashing waves. Cerridwens head pops up in the companionway, and I scream at her “stay down below!!!! and if you need to vomit get a bucket!!!! DO NOT come up here for anything whatsoever!!!’ To which she replied ‘it looks like the blue ridge mountains!!!’ And then popped her head back down. I look out at the chopped up sea, and sure enough it does look like our beloved Appalachian mountain range from home. It’s a deep violet, and with the rain beating down on it, there’s a grey mist hovering like the iconic blue ridge mountain fog. ‘We’re moving 9 knots!!!!’ I scream to jimi as I look at the chart plotter in front of me, keeping us on course.

We still haven’t got our auto helm fixed, so we have been steering by hand this whole time. We’re headed to Key Biscayne to pick up a computer for the auto helm. But oddly I actually did not know this was even a thing. I thought somehow people just put auto helm on at night or when conditions were favorable or when they were solo sailing. As of now (ask me again once we’ve crossed the Gulf Stream), I don’t mind the hand steering. The day before this, I hand steered 6 hours straight (with bathroom breaks, thank you jimi), and there is something about hand steering that has helped me get to know the boat and gain confidence in her. I can feel each need for correction and point to the reason why, since I’m sitting there staring at the compass and the horizon, and the surrounding area the whole time. I feel I can develop an intimacy with the boat, sensing what she wants with each sail shift, and wind change. I can feel the current changes, and respond to the wave angles. But I know auto helm is going to be pretty fantastic on those incredibly dull stretches when all you see is horizon, and gorgeous blue water. In those moments, I don’t really want to be staring at the compass line, trying to keep directly on course. I’d like to be trimming sails and enjoying the ride.

The squall lasted for about 4 hours. Not really, it was maybe 10 minutes. But it certainly felt longer. Jimi sat there shivering, as the temperature had dropped significantly, and he’s more of a hot weather person. But right when he was thinking of getting his jacket, the sun had popped out and was drying off everything like none of it had even happened.

‘25kn + squall here, if you haven't already reefed. We are sails down and motoring’ a message popped up on my whats app from our Australian buddy boat.

‘Hey! We are out of the squall now, we reefed and got through it. Pretty wild! Motoring now as the wind seems to have gone with the storm’. I respond.

‘Glad you weathered it ok! More experiences ticked of the list for you guys 🤪 We have our head sail (only) out again, but it's probably going away soon when the wind drops further. Lots of rumbling coming from Miami so we are not in a rush. Hoping it's blown out by the time we get there.’  

Says our Aussie friends. Jimi and I calming down from our first weather incident while on the water, started deconstructing the events.

‘I’m so glad you thought to reef!!’ I say.

‘I was even thinking sooner, but it sounded like a major pain in the ass’. he said.

For the record, that’s the first time we’ve reefed.

‘Maybe we should have a rule, where the first time the thought ‘reef’ crosses our mind, we go ahead and do it. That way we’re ready, and if it’s nothing, well then we’re just getting practice anyway’ I say.

‘Yeah and we were cruising along just fine, 9 knots is definitely a record!’ Says Jimi.

‘I’m just glad that didn’t have any lightning and thunder!’ I say, not realizing that comment would foreshadow the rest of the day.

We realized we were probably going so fast, because we were likely on the Gulf Stream, which travels north. And heading towards Key Biscayne earlier, we were just slogging along, barely gaining ground, moving in the channel that hugged the land, dodging reefs, and rocks. Boringggggg as our son Eliot would say. So we ended up offshore, hoping we’d get more wind and speed. That we did. Within an hour or so of that squall passing, we realized there was a much larger threat looming in the direction of Miami. The direction we were going. ‘Oh damn!!!! Look at that lightning!! I want nothing to do with that!!’ Exclaimed jimi.

[sailingesme]

the dreaded anchor drag

5/4/25

We’ve learned a LOT already in this short 2- day, 100 nautical mile journey up to Key Biscane, which is just south of Miami. Major lesson number one: anchor dragging. Good thing we already do set our anchor alarm every night. We were anchored just outside Boot Key Harbor in Marathon, and it had a fierce tidal current, perhaps from the harbor pull and push. The first night, no problems. The second night was the eve of our journey toward Key Largo and then Key Biscayne. We were planning the next morning to get up, pull the motor off the dinghy, tie up the dinghy to the davits on the back of the boat and sail up to Key Largo, nice and early so we could set anchor before sunset with our Aussie friends. Our friends had us to their boat for a pre-journey dinner, kids watching a movie, adults chatting and sharing a beer, and reasons for why we’ve all chosen this lifestyle. We also happened to chat extensively about anchors dragging and the benefits of using all chain on an anchor. We discussed how excited we are to finally get an auto helm and not be hand steering for hours on end. ‘Game changer’ claims Justin. ‘You wouldn’t catch me hand steering for more than 30 minutes’. He declared in his Irish brogue. Another game changer: the lithium batteries he’s about to pick up in Miami in a couple days. Each small upgrade makes a massive difference in this whole experience. Meeting another boat with kids, for instance. Game changer. Having an actual chart plotter (even if it’s ancient) instead of an iPad and phones. Game changer.

‘Goodnight! See you tomorrow in Key largo! Fair winds’ we dinghy our family back to the boat as it’s getting dark so we can all tuck in and get a decent night sleep before the long day ahead. Everyone asleep, and then an hour later our anchor alarm goes off. I mentioned to jimi before that this boat reminds me of having a newborn-I’m usually up at every sound and then I wake jimi if it seems pressing. So anchor alarm goes off, I get up, and sure enough our pattern says we’re dragging. Another thing my father in law, John taught me, is to make sure you’ve picked a point on the horizon to check in the middle of the night, so you know your anchor is set. John, if you’re reading this, just know you’re on this boat every day with all the tidbits you’ve taught me! So I look for my red flashing lights, the three in a stack, not the three horizontal ones, and they’re still there, but damn we’re a lot closer to that one boat… “Jimi, you gotta get up, our anchor alarms are going off” (we’ve set 2). He startles awake, and we troubleshoot what the hell is going on. Are we dragging? The wind is definitely strong, but the tide is super strong. 5 knot current? Can that even be right? So we have a crazy current, and the wind blowing us. The chart says we dragged 365 ft. No way. Thats insane. Plus why didn’t the alarms go off sooner? ‘Oh damn’ Jimi says, as he turns up the volume on his phone….maybe that’s why we didn’t hear it going off…

Finally jimi says, “welp it doesn’t seem to be dragging anymore, and the direction we’re dragging would put us to the side of these boats, not into any of them, so I’m going back to bed!” So we set 3 anchor alarms, and try to get some sleep. Beep! Beep! Beep! Alarms (all 3) go off again, this time a couple hours later, 4am. Again, jimi is sound asleep, (we need to put those damn alarms closer to our bed), and I’m up immediately. This time it’s obvious we’ve dragged. 350feet!!! “Holy shit! Jimi wake up! We’ve dragged so far we’re right next to the Dizzie (our friend’s boat). He’s up in no time and starting the engine this time. “We’re gonna have to pull the anchor and reset it.” He shouts over the engine. (Side note, if you’re wondering what happened to the kids in this story, they’re asleep. Not a stir. )

So I go up front and start yanking that anchor in. And I realize we can’t use that dumb anchor anymore. It’s called a Bruce something or other. And it’s just too flat for these grasses. The reason we used it is because some other friends said that would be better than not having chain at all. That using that anchor with the chain, is more of a guarantee than the one (the one that got us through all the other crazyness- remember the run -agroundings?). ‘I think we need to use old faithful’ I say to jimi cursing Bruce the anchor. “This anchor ain’t nothing but a dinghy anchor!” I’m pretty sure Bruce was pretty ashamed after that. So we motor forward all the way back to our original spot and deploy old faithful. ‘Tomorrow I think we should just switch the anchors so we have old faithful on the chain and the Bruce can just be retired. Stupid Bruce.’

And for the next post, I’ll tell you about the crazy storm we just experienced. I’m just too whooped to write anymore.

[sailingesme]

farewell to the cozy mooring ball

Seems I’m only interested in writing when we’re moving. Inspiration? Mental flow?just plain old movement perhaps makes my thoughts move as well. Just got off the mooring ball today, and we’re now anchored, still in marathon, but heading somewhere finally. We’ve been moored in boot key harbor for 2 weeks, and that’s honestly about all I can handle. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been great! We’ve made friends! Yay!!! With kids!! Double yay!! We got lots of projects done: epoxied a leak near the water tanks, fixed the Bob stay by calling up a rigger and getting a new piece installed, jimi then learned how to retension our entire boat so hopefully he’s less stressed about using the foresail (it was pulling up part of the bowsprit as we were sailing down here). I told him maybe he should start a company called Jimi Rigger. ordered a new computer from Denmark, for the auto helm so we don’t have to hand steer all the way to the Bahamas (sadly that’s still not working), put together a Ditch bag, finally got the kids on a decent school rhythm, installed a lazy jack system for the main sail, got a sweet new reel for our fishing pole, reorganized the boat, re-provisioned, and even got a little snorkeling in. But I have discovered I’m not a huge fan of the ‘marina living’. Sure it’s nice to have actual hot showers, a place to do laundry, grocery shopping a short 1.3 mile walk away, a playground for kids, and people to socialize with, hot showers, but something about it feels stagnating. But hot showers. Like, why am I here on this boat, just bobbing up and down making life harder for myself? Marina life isn’t really worth all that. It’s nice to be able to get things done and what not, but I was definitely getting itchy. Ready to take another stab at being out and sailing around. It’s high time we take all this investment and risk and do something dammit!!

[sailingesme]

marathon to marathon

4/20/25

Easter Sunday. We’ve officially been on the boat over a week. We’re in Marathon, on a mooring ball. We’ve made it to the keys. There are boats everywhere, some in the middle of a journey around the world, and some that are retired and will rest here in the keys for the rest of their boat lives. I keep comparing this experience to the time in my life when I was rock climbing intensively. Especially trad climbing or multi pitch climbing, which tend to be high stakes climbing environments that require extensive knowledge of ropes, rigging, specialty equipment, and trust in your partner. There are so many moments that bring me back to those days, like passing something to someone while on the boat; you don’t let go of the item until you feel the other person has a firm grip, or off it falls down the cliff, or plop in the liquid abyss in this case. Cerridwen just learned this last last night, as she was using her towel to wrap around her on the dinghy ride back from the shower house. The wind was quicker and stronger than she, and ripped it right out of her hands, tossing it into the water before anyone could rescue it. ‘That was my special boat towel!!’ She bitterly cried, as I assured her she has actually now been inducted in part of a special boat club called the ‘important things I dropped in the water’ club. I lost a tape measure the first day. Jimi lost some hardware. Eliot, a pair of sunglasses.

The rigging and knots, and the amount of trust and faith I have to develop in my own understanding and knowledge of how all the forces work. The way the sails are rigged and full of wind, pushing the boat along, the boom shuddering up and down, reminds me of being 500 feet up a cliff face on the 5th pitch, checking and rechecking all my knots and my anchoring set up as I belay my partner above me, another 500 feet of climbing above us. The exhilaration of the wind and the water slapping the boat, either the current working against us or for us, reminds me of the wind whipping my face on an exposed ledge, as I clip a carabiner or place a cam. The physics and nature involved is simultaneously stimulating and terrifying. Complacency in both activities is detrimental as nature will win out. As I gain understanding and confidence in the boat, in the mechanics, in my own ability to know which line to pull, I can appreciate the beauty more and more of an age old means of transportation, exploration. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the ‘this is scary as shit’ feeling, but maybe that’s part of why people end up in love with it. Again, very much like climbing

[sailingesme]

Finally off the dock

4/11/25

We were planning on leaving the dock at YTC two days ago, but you know, sailing. Left Friday instead, my dad came bright and early with some coffee and popcorn chicken. So grateful he was able to host us for so long. Tolerate us really. That day we got out in the gulf and actually got all 3 sails up. Once we finally got the motor off, about 7 dolphins bee lined it right towards us, played in the waves on the bow and basically high fived us for finally being quiet in the water. Good job guys! No motor!! That was an exhilarating and exciting day and we sustained 7.5 knots most of time we were sailing. We made it to Venice to meet up with my dad’s neighbors, John and Laura Bokencamp. Ran aground (time number 5), and they helped us out. Took a silly amount of time to set the anchor, but finally we did. Exhausted, we went to bed only to wake up at 1am to a little squall. , boat blew all over, scared anchor was gonna drag and we’d smash into the rock jetty. Lighting, wind, couldn’t go to bed for at least an hour. Finally settled down, but Jimi and I still woke up every other hour checking the anchor holding. Will I ever get used to this unsettled feeling?

4/12/25

Mom and cat’s birthday. Cats are doing better, not freaking out as much, starting to get brave. Tried to go in the gulf but it was too choppy and windy for us, plus we had broken two sail slides the previous day and were feeling nervous. The look on Jimi’s face and said it all. So we turned back in towards land to cruise the ICW. Other than running aground (#6), it was pretty uneventful and frankly kinda boring. Kids finally knocked out some school work. Running aground this time enabled me to use my new BoatUS membership, worth its weight in gold. Scottie, the tow boat guy from Boston called and warned me there would be no chit chat and it would be straight to the point and no nonsense. “Get the line and go!” He explained to me over the phone. “I may be a little delayed because there’s a sharks tooth festival here in Venice.” if the word ‘tooth’ hadn’t followed ‘shark’ I would have thought he said there is a shack festival here in Venice. So as you imagine the next bit, keep that beautiful, thick Boston accent in your head. He got to us, and though I had relayed the message of Scottie’s urgency to Jimi, he had not taken me very seriously because he was stuffing his face with granola bars and peeling an orange, and strolled over to the bow of the boat asking Scottie which cleat he thought we should use. To which Scottie said, “doesn’t matter! Just throw it on and let’s go!!” In his thick Boston accent. I may have seen Jimi jump a little, as he finally got the message. Scottie waved his hands around at the weekend pontoon boaters and their faces appeared downright scared of Scottie, his furious arm flailing and his fire engine red boat. We had a clear path in seconds. After pulling us out, Scottie informed us that he pulls at least a few boats out a week from that spot alone. “That spot is sending my kid to college!!” He laughed before giving us some tips on the upcoming hazards and speeding away in a red blaze. The rest of the 5 hours, we cruised on the ICW, went under 6 bridges, and both realized I’ll need to be the VFW radio person while jimi drives so we don’t have another incident. So I’m working on my radio voice. Anchored in a little neighborhood, heading to Boca grande tomorrow to have a chill day.

4/13/25

Waking up late, and gonna motor down to Boca grande, about an hour or two away to go to the beach and get the kids ice cream at the pink pony. 

Chill day, went to the pink elephant and the pink pony. Why is everything so pink in Boca Grande?

4/14/25

Stayed near Boca grande in a rocky roll windy exposed anchorage. I kept getting up, checking the anchor. Even though we do have an anchor alarm on it. The boat was rolling around so much, even my sweatshirts hanging on the door were making an obnoxious noise. Every ten minutes I got up to see tie something down. Now what’s that noise? Really? A cat leash! Oh for heavens sake, I just want to go to sleep! It’s a strange feeling of wanting to maintain some awareness at night so you can pop out of bed and respond if something does go wrong, and desperately wanting sleep so you can be able to respond the next day. 

4/15/25 Pulled into the very busy little town of Ft Meyers beach (no Big Carlos) and caught a mooring ball on my first attempt! No getting dragged off the deck this time, yay! These mooring balls all have a little spliced loop on the end that you’re supposed to grab with a boat hook, and all the YouTube instructional videos make it look soooo much easier. One of the nice things about a mooring ball, is that they’re usual in a protected little space and you can finally get some sleep! Dinghy paddle in to the shore to get showers and do a bit of laundry. Our dinghy motor is 15hp which is perfect for a family of 4, but is absolutely a huge pain in the arse for jimi and I to lift on to the dinghy. Jimi’s rigging skills for tree work have translated to this new sailboat life in more ways than one. So we used the boom for the main sail to lower the motor onto the dinghy. Works, but still a huge pain in the butt and we’d rather paddle if it’s not all that far. Ft meyers beach is happening!! So many people, all the Jimi Buffet bars and Pirate restaurants were packed. Random floating tiki bars with crowds of people singing Tom Petty go by every 30 minutes. For a town that got absolutely clobbered in Hurricane Ian a few years ago, it’s heartening to see the recovery. It gives me hope for areas like St Pete and our home area in North Carolina and their recovery.

Goal today is to sail over to Marco Island. Here is where we say goodbye to the option of the ICW and have to take on the Gulf of..? Amexico?

[sailingesme]

The shakedown cruise

“It wasn’t really a shakedown” says Jimi once we’re comfortably in the hot tub at my dad’s in St Pete, boat tied off and put away.

Really? Ok dear reader, then you tell me what you would call it:

3/21/25

Made it out the canal. Ran aground 3 times. We used the anchor to tip our boat over and free the keel and motor off the high spot. It worked like a charm. It’s called kedging. Took two days to get from safe cove dry docks to the lock. Normally would take 1.5hrs. And now we’re outside of the lock. Run aground. Just signed up for boat US tow boat service. It’s been nice having jimis dad on board. Eliot is here too. I’m glad we have one kid with us. I feel like it would be harder with both right now. And John is very positive. He has even offered to front the $ for the tow boat (before I signed up for Boat US). Tow boat wants $2k. Jimi is working on the engine. We even scoped this whole stupid exit out with the dinghy before leaving the canal. And waited for 6 hours in one spot until high tide. Evidently hurricanes Helene and Milton really screwed this bay up this year, sand moved all over. Can’t trust any of it now. Wish I knew more about engines. Note to self: do not go near this canal in winter or spring when the water is low. Even though I don’t know about engines, at least I can get insurance and a tow boat put together.

3/22/25

We made it out of the lock. We ran aground a third time! Right outside the lock. Even during high tide. Ended up having to stay the night run aground, boat tipped over.  Worked on stalled engine til 12pm with Phil on FaceTime. Fixed that. Celebrated. Yay! Engine works! We’ll be out of here tomorrow! Went to bed only to wake up at 3am falling out of bed, stuff sliding. Boat was listing towards the fish window. Jimi laughed in a what the fuck now kind of way. I couldn’t stop freaking out. Running around with a flashlight, securing things on deck. Dinghy was pulled up out of water. Went to fish window and about a gallon of water was pooled inside our galley. ‘Jimi! Holy shit there’s water coming in!!!’ He jumps out of bed, not funny anymore. Nothing more terrifying. Tasted it, not salt thank god. Started bailing it. John says calmly ‘Well guys, I had a feeling this might happen. We might tilt a bit. This is more than I thought, but it’s gonna be ok, low tide is in a couple hours and then the water should come right back in, and we’ll start righting again.” Man, I’m gonna miss that level headedness. Bailed until 6am. Finally righted when tide came back around 8am. We realized the water was leaking from the water tanks, like if you hold a bottle of water upside down and the cap isn’t screwed on all the way, so not dire, just another thing to fix. We went around with dinghy and checked depths again, and ended up staying all day today stuck in the muck, waiting for high tide again. Finally got boat off mucky muck and came up with our own ‘sailboat’ instructions to navigate the escape route. Anchored in the harbor. Three freaking days to get out of that canal. Normally 1.5 hours… Horrible conditions from hurricanes. Sand had moved all over, poor data and no markings anywhere. Maybe we should buy a dredging boat…

3/23/25

Moving across port Charlotte harbor. Engine good. Smells like piss everywhere because we didn’t realize the valve to the toilet was switched to the holding tank instead of dumping out the boat. Jimi to the rescue again, cleaning up leaking piss out of the toilet and then siphoning it out. I finally made real dinner last night, tacos. Eliot and I zoomed across the bay in the dinghy to the repair shop with ten minutes to spare, got jimi spare parts and got an ice cream after. Eliot is surprisingly in good spirits, and keeps retelling this story to everyone like it’s an awesome adventure. The way he tells it, it is a pretty awesome adventure! I’ll take his version, please. Zoomed back, Eliot manning the helm the whole way on the dinghy, singing Pirates of the Caribbean theme song at the top of his lungs, to find jimi and his dad had miraculously freed the boat and when he put in the new part from the repair shop, the engine fired right up. We gingerly navigated out of the treacherous muck channel and anchored for the night. Real water. Deep water. It feels like a relief today to be a little bored and not anxiously stressed out. Fish window is teal green. 

3/24/25

John treated us to a dockside marina overnight and man did it feel good to take a hot shower after 4 days! Marina had hot showers with a bottomless hot water tank. We only have hot water if we’re plugged in somewhere on the boat, and it lasts one full minute…We ate in the restaurant there, and then walked to get ice cream at the Pink Pony. Why are all the restaurants in Boca Grande pink? Felt good to spoil ourselves after so much stress. Found a bunch of sharks teeth on the beach on our walk to the lighthouse. Luckily Boca grande was relaxing and uneventful. Jimi and I even stole away for a whiskey date. Today we’re off to the ocean finally. The Gulf of Mexico. Or gulf of America I guess some people call it now. Though Savvy Navvy still says Gulf of Mexico.

3/25/25

Pulled into Sarasota last night. Engine died mid way up, Jimi ‘Jimi rigged’ it and it started up again. I am continually impressed with how he has taken this whole thing head on, learning things he has never learned and trying to fix them as each scenario feels somewhat dire and almost life or death. Although we could technically call a tow boat if we really had to, so less death. Pulling into Sarasota we were all 3 of us on a chart, and still ran aground! 4th time. This time was with waves, so I suggested we angle the boat so the wave slapped against the starboard side and tip the keel over out of the sand, similar to how we used the anchor in the canal. It worked! John revved the engine and we used the waves to get out. After that we slowly maneuvered into the Sarasota harbor and tried to catch a mooring ball. Failed the first time, nearly lost a boat hook. Both jimi and I dragged across the deck. I caught the eye of the second one, and although it is a massive pain in the ass to catch a mooring ball, it’s sure is nice untying it instead of hauling up an anchor. That night a storm blew in and we had set an anchor alarm that kept tripping off. I was worried the mooring balls were not sound with the recent hurricanes, but even though we rocked around all night from the storm, we held. Took off early the next morning to go under a 65’ bridge. Supposedly the mast is 62’, but goddamn it was close, and it was low tide…we all sighed a breath of relief when we cleared it. I dinghied John over to the beach with his suitcase since he had a flight to catch that evening, and jimi was too nervous leaving the boat on the anchor we had set. Bittersweet saying bye to John, his calm demeanor shall surely be missed. 

Trip up to St Pete was long but fairly uneventful. Other than both of us deciding the ICW is much too stressful with a boat that draws more than or near to 5.5’. We had a beautiful welcoming party of my dad, my uncle Mike, Cerridwen and the neighbors to greet us at the dock. I’ve learned I have to practice knots like it’s my new job, and tying ropes to the dock.

Shakedown?

[sailingesme]

An update....

"I really don't understand how something so simple can be so hard. And take so long"

The words coming from Jimi's mouth right now, as he attempts pulling the packing from the stuffing box on the boat. This is the week for 'easy projects'. Meaning, projects that are supposed to take 1-2 days and require minimal tools.

I guess easy is relative.

And why is that we are still here? Wasn’t it supposed to be simple: get a boat, pack up, sail the boat. Sure I was expecting some hurdles. But I was NOT expecting to still be in Florida, at my Dads, and in the boat yard, until March.

Things learned so far:

The transition from ‘normal ‘ life, into the unknown is excruciating, especially with kids.

Painting a boat deck is painful and sticky and exhausting. Give yourself a lot of time. Especially taping; that alone took over 2 hours.

Fiberglass ing and epoxy is stressful and there is lots of cursing.

I really just wanted to get this blog ball rolling, so here it is first entry. I’ll include more in the next.