Name That Tune
It's January 2nd and we started our day with stops at Walmart (extra anti-freeze and some travel munchies), Princess Auto (a few of those 'thin' jerry cans for diesel), the pharmacy to top up prescriptions ...and finally we were away.
At 12:00 noon the guy at US Customs asked the usual questions and let us into the USA once again. A brief stop at McDonalds for lunch and then away we go, westward-bound. Tristan drives us to Johnson City, New York, for our first overnight stop. The next evening we dined as guests of Irene and Perry at one of Bloomington's numerous brewpubs. A night-time tour of Indiana University's campus was absolutely amazing. Forty-thousand students in a town of between Seventy and Eighty Thousand people. That is Sackville-like prportions but times ten. Wow!
The scheduled whiskey tasting out in Perry's studio later in the evening ensured a late start the next morning. A day of shopping for the ladies, while the guys saw some of the sights of Brown County. Together we enjoy a tasting session at the major local winery. Their many wines were mostly fermented to 10% alcohol and then re-juiced, resulting in a selection of interesting 'sweet' wines. Their Port is very drinkable, and the wine meade was a subtle treat. Their Cabernet Sauvignon 2013 agreed with my palate but in general they don't produce truly dry wines. If your palate goes toward the sweet or fruity, then the Oliver Vinyard and Winery has something that should meet with your approval.
We are joined by daughter A'ame and partner Gerald. Together we play Blackout into the wee hours.
Thursday morning and snow was falling in Bloomington. Oh no! We thought that we had ducked it. The forecast indicated that this new system threatened to snow on us all the way to Florida! After a late breakfast we decided to get going, perhaps getting ahead of the building storm. By evening we were driving through Atlanta on I-75, where the driving advisory warning signs were displaying snowfall warnings for tomorrow. It looks like we have escaped the system. We would be in Florida before the storm arrived in Atlanta.
The temperatures finally warmed after we crossed the border into Florida but by bedtime it had dropped again to below freezing. By our third day at the boatyard in San Mateo temperatures were becoming tolerable again and we were able to work on the boat. The cold snap had left me coughing and sniffling in its wake. Fortunately Tristan is made of more hardy stuff. He ramrodded preparations for our splash. He replaced the batteries and purchased LED bulbs to finish the upgrade in that department. For my own part, he kept me hopping to facilitate the various projects. I had hoped to find time (and money) to replace a wheel bearing in the van before we depart. Susan and I had planned to visit Bob and Bonnie in Clearwater. The van will need this repair before we can do that.....and this cold that lingers will have to go away too!.
As we sipped our sundowners in company with a few of the other boaters at this yard, we were proudly looking at Panacea, over by the travel-lift dock, her lovely bottom buffed and polished, wearing a fresh coat of anti-fouling paint. It was Saturday, January 7th.
We received an interesting tip from the manager of the West Marine store in St Augustine yesterday. We were trying to buy suitable thread so that Susan could do some sail repairs. He suggested NOT sewing the sails at all, but rather using sail tape bonded in place with 3M 5200 permanent caulking.
Susan spent part of her day preparing the sails for this repair. She went on to try it and the repair was 95% intact after some serious abuse on our way to Bimini. This is a gooooood fix, a brilliant idea.
Monday....and today was a shopping day. West marine for zincs: both shaft and heat exchanger, and Monkey Fist Marine for a coarser pitch propeller. Our first gold-plated prop ever! We'll find out if barnacles can get a grip on this finish.
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| Tommy's Turkeys |
Tommy (the owner of this boatyard) advises that the longneck sta-lok fitting ordered for our forestay should be here tomorrow. With the forestay reconfigured, we will be good to go, maybe as early as Thursday or Friday. Our schedules are aligning with one of the boatyard denizens. If the stars align, we might cruise the ICW in company with Tony on Porpoise.
Another day passed, Wednesday was productive for Susan and Tristan. I slept. My cold seemed worse that ever.
Panacea looked quite handsome with her new black bottom and her gold-plated propeller. I am hoping that this gold plate will prevent fouling. This prop has 1.5” coarser pitch, so we are hoped it brings our speed back up to that which we enjoyed with the old CDI feathering prop.
The ETA for the Sta-Lok fitting keeps sliding. Tristan is planning to work from a bosun's chair to remove the forestay. The crane idea was going to be expensive, and doubly so if the StaLok turns out ot be the wrong size or something
Days passed and still no rigging piece. We splashed ( yay!) and Susan and Tristan went off to supper with Tony at the Moose Lodge. Still ill, I travelled on the sick-list. I don't know where this came from – congestion like I have never experienced before. I am almost afraid to lay down to sleep for fear of drowning. My diet today is mainly Benadryl and Tussin. Our plans were to move forward despite any infirmity of mine.
At sundown on Friday the 13th we were still waiting for the rigging part. UPS and Fedex came today but not for us. It now is apparent that the supplier did not have the item in stock.
Saturday we canceled the order with Tommy for the special Sta-Lok and purchased some new ferrules from Monkey-Fist salvage down at Green Cove Springs, along with a couple of extender straps and clevis pins. I hoisted Tristan to the masthead and before you can say Jack Robinson, we had our forestay back in place.
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| Tristan's supplies |
We departed the dock at San Mateo on Monday, January 16th at high water in the pre-dawn. The boat seemed peppier than I remembered. “Ahhh...that new prop really moves us along...”we cheered to each other. Alas, our spirits soared only briefly. We overheated within a mile and traveled all the way to Green Cove Springs at 1300 rpms, where we anchored at 2:00 pm. Tristan installed our spare water pump. The raw-water flow remained minimal, and the problem was traced back to the hose from the thru-hull to the raw water strainer. When he bent down to pull the raw water hose back through its port in the engine oil capture pan, Tristan detected the problem. It was way too simple! The hose was kinked beneath the floor and pinched closed. He had worked backward through the raw water system from the exhaust injection elbow all the way to the intake strainer without finding a problem. To verify an open intake he connected the foot pump for the inflatable boat and – lo – it would NOT pump.
It took only a few minutes to reduce the length of the hose by an inch and to reinstall all of the clamps. At 3:30 we raised anchor and continued on our way down the St John's River. The engine sounded better and buried the stern, reducing the exhaust note to a mild burble. We made 8.9 knots travelling with the current, and after a few unsuccessful attempts to find good hold in anchorages on the southern fringe of Jacksonville, we made our way to the City Stadium docks where we watered in preparation for a predawn departure to ride the falling tide to the Intra Coastal Waterway.
The next morning a fog enshrouded the St. John's River, making for a cautious drive downstream before dawn. We finally had a situation in which a radar that WORKS would be useful. We encountered a barge at rest in the navigable stream, lit up like most shore facilities. As we approached, we saw a few small wakes on the water surface nearby. “Ducks...” Tristan commented. “Otters...” I replied. ...and then “...wow...a whole herd of otters......ahhh, nope! Those are crab pot floats pulled under by the current”.
“Oh crap!” was Tristan's response as he steered closer to the barge to get us away from the crab pot floats. We didn't need one of those lines wrapped around our propeller shaft.
The fog finally burned away as the rising sun warmed us. We were a mile from the ICW and the time was only 9:00 am. “St Augustine, here we come...” we laughed to each other as Susan passed our breakfasts up from the galley.
The Homeland Security Department greeted us as we passed St Augustine's airport. They delayed us not even for a moment as we hurried for the 2:00 pm opening of the Bridge of Lions. By 2:30 we had refueled and put Panacea on a mooring ball. Our stop here would be a simple over-nighter, having visited several times already in the past week by car. Our navigator gave us the averages at supper. We had averaged slightly over 5 knots even with the first 30 miles having been logged at low rpms, and with the side trips into several coves. We had consumed exactly 12 US Gallons of diesel and were using slightly over a half gallon of fuel every hour.
We departed on a rising tide and made good speed all the way to Daytona. The following morning it was a dawn start, again with the tide pushing us. We went through New Smyrna 'like a hurricane'. That area had taken a strong hit from a real hurricane and we saw numerous tarped roofs, ruined docks and sunken/ beached boats. We passed Titusville before 3:00 pm, stretching the trip to reach Cocoa. Sue and Tristan had been emailing Claude on Pantheonto arrange a get together. When we eventually heard back from him he was away in Tampa with family, so we will have to renew acquaintances later.
Tristan caught Tony(Dolphin) by phone. It turns out that his launch was delayed due to an unusual number of haul outs at the yard. It's Thursday, and today was the day Victor and Marilyn anticipated was jump-off day for Whisper, destination Bimini. Are we destined always to be one step behind Whisper? Stay tuned folks.
Cocoa to Vero Beach was the next leg, and again we arrived in mid afternoon, taking ball number one in anticipation of arrival of a windy cold front. One of our Geckos shared the sunshine in our cockpit with us on this trip, seemingly not the least bit shy. I am surprised that they can take the cold...I still wear my parka in the early hours and as sunset nears, and, of course, in the fog. I am thinking that a parka would be a very suitable basis for a 'floater' coat. The fur brimmed hood would be a unique and positive feature. Perhaps I'll give that a try, being that I still have a certain amount of Ethelene foam sheet at home. Back to those Geckos again, maybe the little guys are noticing the general rise in temperature as we drive into South Florida. I expect they will jump ship to hang with their cousins when we tie-up in Riviera Beach.
They won't have much time in which to jump ship. Our stay in Lake Worth will be brief. During a 4 day stay in Vero Beach we refueled, pumped-out and watered. The ships laundry, groceries, mechanical parts/spares and fluids/lubricants were augmented. There will be no long stays before we go to the islands.
We finally got away on Tuesday at 12:25 in the noon hour with the added thrust of a falling tide, overtaking one boat after the next, to arrive at Peck Lake at 5:45.After anchoring we had a very pleasant chat with fellow Saint Johners aboard Perfect Match. Gary Arthurs and I were introduced back at Vero and the conversation had triggered deja vu. Finally it came back to me, whole. Gary and I had met only three years previously at the business office office of the RKYC on the occasion of my taking delivery of the Westerbeke engine for Panacea from Brian and Sue Moore . On that occasion, he had reminded me that we were acquainted during former our professional lives.
During our conversation in Peck Lake neither of us had strong memories on the matter, but were happy to exchange views. They plan to cross to the Abacos from Lake Worth, at the same time as we depart that port for our destination, Bimini. Hopefully we will see them again soon. Wishing them every success.
Our drive from Peck Lake to North Palm Beach was the fastest ever, thanks to the new propeller and a clean bottom. Anchor Up to Down Anchor down again all fit with 3 hours and forty five minutes. Susan and I had returned aboard from West Marine and Publix by 12:00 noon and we arrived at Riviera Beach Municipal Marina less than an hour later. The marina is fabulous ...and fully subscribed. Naturally this has resulted in a rate increase to $2.00 per foot per night (from $1.75) and a flat charge of $15.00 on top for electricity, whether you need it or not. We haven't had AC shorepower in a number of years, so this flat charge sucks. We are spending 50% more here in Rivieria Beach in one night than we spent in our four night stopover in Vero Beach. In Vero the sewage pumpout is free, as is the water, as is the community bus service, with much more variety of stores and restaurants. This Marina stop was my 'bright idea' based mainly on nostalgia from the days when you could just anchor out front to row ashore and clear customs, having a burger and a beer on the way back at the “Tiki Restaurant”. Even while the Marina was under construction, guest tie-ups for Customs Check-Ins was inexpensive and gave use of the washrooms and showers within a four hour stay.
Those days are gone. Today the restaurant is gone, replaced by the new City Hall Building and Parking Lots. Now, there are NO restaurants. The marina is full of long-term berth rentals, leaving only a few transient berths for those of us who are just passing through. Ah, for the good old days.
What a crossing! Unfortunately we found ourselves driving into the Gulfstream almost as soon as we exited Lake Worth. Our expectation of a 5 knot average was not to be fulfilled. We departed Lake Worth at 3:00am and finally tied-up in North Bimini at 10:00 pm. We were hailed as we approached the Cardinal Buoy by Sharon of Bonavista, and together with husband Craig with Vic and Marilyn of Whisper we were directed to a berth and tied-up in no time at all. Panacea was completely encrusted with salt. We had been rolling through ninety degrees for hours on end and shipping a spray over the bow. We have seen much worse but this still sucks. Our trip average was 4 knots and we used 16 US gallons of diesel or .84 gallons per hour.. We were close-hauled until late in the day when the winds defied the forcaster and swung into our teeth. That five hours was under bare poles and the corkscrew motion was at its most violent for that period.
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| A flying fish a casualty of the Crossing |
On arrival, we had a brief dock party together. We knew Craig And Sharon from phone and email communications during their fitting out of the recently acquired Island Packet and found that, in person, we really get along together. As for Vic and Marilyn....well, we already knew that we get along; but after an entire year of near misses...usually only separated by a single weather window....this reunion was especially sweet. Within a day we were back to helping each other with boat maintenance issues, as always.
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| Panacea at the dock Bimini Blue Water Marina |
Bimini this year is just a little more extreme than ever. Or perhaps it is just that I am a little bit brittle this time around. We slept so soundly on arrival night that we did not hear the 'concert' staged in our honour (NOT!). We got the full benefit of a return engagement the next night. I was literally blasted awake at the stroke of midnight by the all too familiar sound track of 'chick', '50's,'daytime am radio generic MUSIC' – overdubbed by this dingbat from Freeport with self-alleged anger issues. The patent sound track has a number of donut openings for him to 'personalize' this crap to the occasion and location. I have heard this muck repeatedly over the past couple of years here. It is always delivered at 200 decibels. It invariably lapses into a patois that is reminicent of baby talk but delivered as shouting.
Try for a moment to imagine Hitler's finest moment, the apogee of his motivational address/diatribe at the Nuremburg Rally. Overlay this on a repeating background of Mary Had A Little Lamb delivered in a vapid and drifting fashion by a trio of female vocalists.
You are almost there....
Now to fill this image out, you must further imagine the 'angry' voice interupting himself while talking-in-tongues.
This is such a waste! The chap has a melodic instinct and ties-in pitch perfect whenever he falls back from shouting his (I hold my nose to write this word) message. If the message is: “I don't speak English, and I am hoping for my big opportunity as a voice for 'Angry Birds'”, then the guy is getting through to his audience. The fact that 95% of this jerk's audience is trying to sleep seems to inhibit him not even a little bit.
The standard methods of shutting him down? At 3:30am a couple of pistol shots, that characteristic popping sound. The volume died-back immediately.
The music continued for a while longer and then the volume crept back up. At last there was the rip of full-automatic AK-47 gunfire to signify that the party was over for another night. After all, the citizens need their beauty sleep. Marina residents ask why do the cops wait until 3:30 am to shut down this public assault on the senses? My theory is that this is just a staged part of the show. The gunshots all sounded like blanks to me. With no supersonic bullet sound after the bang, perhaps this is his nightly sign-off and a way to avoid too many curtain-calls. Really, how unlikely is a curtain-call for this?. Free drinks won't be enough of a motivator. Perhaps the ammo is live and the audience captive, held at gunpoint. That must be it.
Next morning we dispatched Tristan to the northern anchorages here in Bimini to determine if room exists where we could anchor away from this racket. Our final decision was to stay put since on Sunday the local revivalist church might just take up their own auditory assault with an open air religious service up that way.
I think that the notion of silent contemplation is lost in this place. The shouting everywhere around us, while disagreeable before – seems almost overwhelming this time around. Many of us are getting almost no sleep at all.
We sail on for quieter shores after the next cold front passes through. And eagerly so. Farewell to Bimini, sigh!
Nugget of the Week
number of U S citzens annually killed in their own country (by cause)
2 by islamic jihadist immigrants
5 by indigenous right-wing terrorists
9 by all islamic jihadists INCLUDING US citizens
21 by armed toddlers
31 by lightning
69 by lawnmowers
264 by a bus
737 by falling out of bed
11,737 by being shot by a fellow U S citizen
source: facebook
3354
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