Initiation

Our first overnight sail from Marco Island to Marathon was 96 nautical miles.  The winds were forecast to be 9 to 11 knots and 2 to 4 foot seas.  That looked good.  Once about 4 miles out into the Gulf it was basically a straight run south.
I was a little anxious about this being a night sail and there really aren’t many options of places to duck into if the weather turned.  We’re prepared, our course is plotted.  We can do this!
We left Marco with almost no wind.  It looked like we were going to be motoring. 
The autopilot was on and working perfectly..that is until it got bored.  About every 60 minutes it would take a hard turn to port.  Something else to put on Brian’s fix it list.
About 4pm we were joined by a big pod of dolphins and no matter how many times I see them, it’s still pure magic.  I watched for a bit while they raced along beside us, every once in a while turning sideways I’m sure to look up at me.  I did grab the camera for a video and then let Brian come up to see.  That’s when they left us, of course.

As the sun set it was very quiet.  Only the occasional Coast Guard transmission on channel 16.  Then the moon came up.  A full moon!  You have to love that.  At one point I came up from below and thought we had turned around because what I thought was the sun on the wrong side of the boat was in fact the moon.  We were 25 miles offshore and hadn’t seen another boat in hours.  That’s when you really feel alone.

By 10pm the waves were really starting to kick up.  Our dinghy which was secured to the davits started to do a little slip and we were worried it would fill with water.  Brian tied himself off and went back in the wind and the waves and did his best to secure it while I tried to keep us out of the biggest waves.  OK, that was scary!  I made him keep yelling so that I knew he was still there.  Another thing for the list.  Make a permanent harness that works.

Crab pots, or maybe lobster pots. Who knows. Thousands of little bombs planted right where we want to go. In the daylight they are easy to dodge but at night I saw plenty of them pass just a few feet from the boat.  I know we hit some because I heard them hit the hull and drag the whole length of the boat.  If we snagged one we didn’t know about it. 

By midnight we were getting 6 to 8 footers and steady 25 to 28 knot winds with gusts over 30.  Not to worry, the Moose is made for this.  It does make for an uncomfortable ride though.  All the things we had thought we had carefully lashed down were not necessarily where we put them any more.  Every time we heard a crash I would head below and survey the mess.  At one point there were batteries rolling everywhere on the floor.  Our wall of beer and diet coke which was held together with ratchet straps fell over in one big wave making a huge obstacle to climb over to get to the head.

Cricket had been really quite calm up until this point.  When I did find her she was inside my pillow case with the pillow on her back.  She looked like a Ninja Turtle.  A little comforting and all is well.  I’m sure she was wondering – are we there yet?
We just kind of snacked on and off the whole night.  I have a whole new appreciation for flight attendants.  The best way we found to make coffee was to put the coffee maker in the sink while it brewed.  No mess, nothing broken.  Pouring it, added the milk and getting it up to the cockpit has to be timed with the waves.  Sometimes you need three hands.
With the motor running at idle and our jib out about 30% were were doing between 7.9 and 8.2 knots.  The hull speed for the boat is 7.4 knots.  Now I was worried we were going to get to Marathon too early, before sunrise.  There are some shallow spots and that wouldn’t be good.
Brian stayed at the helm, in the cold and sometimes rain while I stayed out of the wind behind the dodger.  I supplied him with coffee, gum, baby Snickers bars, dry gloves and a hat.  He’s always looking after me.
By 6 we were getting close.  Only 18 miles to go.  While below, I heard the engine suddenly slow way down.  I could hear Brian cursing a blue streak.  A fishing boat came flying out of who knows where right in front of us.  The wake wasn’t a problem because everything was already on the floor.
We were pretty happy to see the sky start to lighten.  Then…land ho!  As we approached the Seven Mile Bridge we were almost there.  Funny thing, when you cross into the Atlantic.  It smells different.  It smells like the sea.  The Gulf doesn’t smell the same.  The water is different too.  Blue, green, turquoise, beautiful.



There are two channels into Boot Key Harbor.  One is shallow and one is not.  Perhaps it was the lack of sleep but what I read in the guide book and what my brain understood were two different things.  I put us a few miles out of our way and we had to backtrack to get into the harbor.  However, we did come almost all the way in under sail.
A call to the marina office got us a mooring ball and directions on how to find it.  Once our messy boat was put back together we got the dinghy in the water and headed to the office to register.
I feel like I have done ten thousand crunches.  The effects of your body trying to stay level all night.

Boot Key Harbor is quite a place, but that’s a story for tomorrow.