Log of the Comfort Rose Page 2

Monday, June 25th, 2007
Woke up earlier than usual, around 10am, and set out to the planetarium / museum / aquarium across the street, only to find they were closed on Mondays. Should have checked their hours! Oh well, we'd planned on coming back for Steve's party anyway, so we hoped to be able to visit it then. We got lunch at Mattison's, where we got a good laugh at some of the fish in their salt water aquarium. There are two puffy fish that have the funniest little faces you ever saw. Wish we'd thought to take their picture -- again, maybe when we go back next week end.

After lunch it was time to check out of our slip, so we took showers, got our last free bag of ice, filled up on fuel, and headed back out the Manatee River toward the good anchorage Steve (and Dave back at Tarpon Springs) had told us about at Longboat Key. We made our way down the Intracoastal Waterway running between Anna Maria Island and the mainland. It was pretty shallow at points, so we couldn't sail at all, just motored all the way there.

It was a pretty uneventful trip, and we reached our anchorage spot with plenty of daylight left to get situated. It was already inhabited by a handful of other sail and power boats, so we had to anchor carefully to avoid swinging into them when the wind changed. We found a good place, dropped anchors, and Mani went down for a nap. I was just lolling in the cockpit reading a "Kitchen Gardening" magazine Mom had lent me, and watching the GPS to make sure we weren't dragging anchor. We were drifting a little, but that was normal as the wind and tide were changing.

As the sun was setting, I was getting ready to bed down myself, when I noticed our neighbors putting on their anchor lights, and remembered that ours had come unplugged at some point. It had to be hauled down from one of the side-stays so we could plug it back in, which required that someone stand precariously on the narrow edge of the upper deck and use our extendable oar-hook to grab it as it was strung up about 11 feet high, pull it down and plug the extension cord into it so we could turn it on.

I had hoped Mani would take care of this, but he was napped out and needed the rest, so (life-vest on and zipped!) I managed to get it done, but as I was hauling it back up the side-stay, it got unplugged again and I had to go through the whole thing again, this time as the wind was picking up and the boat was rocking. By the time I got down from the deck, I checked the GPS to find we had dragged much too far from our anchorage and were dangerously close to our neighboring boats and the dock by the restaurant on shore, while the wind kept threatening to push us closer.

I got Mani out of bed more quickly than anyone who knows how he sleeps would believe! He hopped to the engine, got it running, I ran up front and pulled up the anchors (not an easy task since we tried to make a better system, which made the process more difficult) and we motored around the cove looking for a safer spot to reset our anchor in the night. We had no luck, and one of our neighbors shouted that we could dock up for a couple of nights at the nearby restaurant's pier. Thank goodness for that. Once safely tied off, we slept well, not fearing to wake on the beach.

We awoke to much squeaking from the dock side of our boat as it was rocked by the wake of passing power boats (and perhaps a little from the tide). Despite the slightly rude awakening, it was a beautiful day, and we wandered up the dock to find sustenance. We checked the restaurant whose pier we were roped to, Moore's Stone Crab (a rather bland establishment), but they weren't open yet. Walking on down the road, the next place over was the Mar Vista, another restaurant / tavern with docks, outdoor seating, and a much more inviting atmosphere. The staff were cleaning up the outdoor area, setting up umbrellas and wiping down tables, but they weren't officially open yet. We asked if we could sit at a table outside and wait till they opened, and they welcomed us to do so.

The waitress out there chatted with us for a while as she worked till they were ready to give us menus. Opting for a light brunch (hah), we went for their Beach Fries - thick sliced potatoes seasoned, fried and topped with cheese and bacon and served with sour cream. Yum! We only made it through about half the plate, boxed up the rest, and took them back to the boat for later.

Some folks had been telling us about a shallow area near our anchorage (dockage) that was nice to visit, so we motored over there, beached the Rose, planted an anchor in the sand, and hopped into the crystal clear water. This was what we had been looking for! Shell hunting, a good long douse in water where you could see everything, and carousing with fellow beached boat bums.

But before the fun began, Mani donned the mask and snorkel and checked the underside of our hull for barnacle growth, as he had noticed they were already growing on our rudder and engine. We had been docking at some shallow, stillwater areas in the last couple weeks, so it's not too surprising there would be some sign of them, but they were more prevalent than we expected.

So with rivershoes on and rags in hand, he went around the boat scraping barnacles off the bottom, while I wiped down the algae-covered waterline of the hull and the upper part of the sides which had gotten pretty funky with cat hair, salt air, and who knows what else in the 2 weeks we'd been out. Not a really bad job, since we got to float around in that beautiful water while we did it, rather than stand out in the summer sun somewhere on land.

Well, when she was gleaming almost like new, we decided to dinghy over to our next neighbors, a catamaran with a few folks who seemed to be having a good time. They welcomed us aboard, and we shot the breeze for a while. We met some other nice people throughout the afternoon and evening and we all had stories to share about where'd been and advice about where to go and not go.

I watched a family with nets go by in the shallowest area of the sandbar, which was several inches above water at low tide, scoop up crabs and take pictures of them, then put them carefully back into the water. I had thought earlier in the day that it would be neat to see some live crabs on my Mom's birthday, since she was a Cancer and all, and sure enough, there it was. Pretty cool!

By the time we were ready for bed, the tide was coming back in so it was deep enough till late morning for us to stay put and spend the night. Good thing, because that was about all we were good for after our day of fun (and boat cleaning) in the sun!

Wednesday, June 27th, 2007 - Happy Birthday, Melissa!
It was another beautiful morning, and the tide was still high so the sandbar was about a foot under water. Mani had a chance to do some snorkeling, got into a couple of skirmishes with some feisty crabs, and brought back a couple of live conchs for me to see. They were pretty interesting, with their odd little feet sticking out, and their shells were lovely.

I did a little swimming myself, and it was a nice way to start the day. After a couple hours of shallow sea bathing, we headed north to try and make it to the Cortez Kitchen, where Steve had taken us the previous Sunday. The channel was very shallow, though, as the tide had started going out by then, so we were hitting bottom, cranking up the keel to get loose, and going a little way before scraping ground again.

"Dredging our way down the Florida coast," as Mani says. I wonder why they actually do dredge channels that are only 2 feet deep (at low tide, anyway)?! Guess you're supposed to know your tide tables better and pay attention!

Well, we got to a place where we could see the Kitchen across the Anna Maria Sound from us, but the tide was so low we couldn't get across to it for a while. Luckily Mani spotted some public docks nearby, so we headed for land and docked up. Just as we were doing so, we looked back and noticed a nasty looking front sneaking up the Sound toward us. We also noticed there was a trolley stop right at the parking area by the dock we'd just tied up to, and the trolley was just pulling in. (There is a free trolley system up and around Anna Maria Island, which is very convenient to all the beaches, restaurants, and shopping districts there.) The driver got out to use the facilities across the parking lot from the stop, so we had a few minutes.

Better safe than wet, we dropped the pop top and closed up the companionway to keep any rain out of our cabin. Battened down the hatches, literally! As soon as we had started across the parking lot to the trolley, the rain came. For several moments it was only a trickle where we were standing, smoking a cigarette before our trolley ride, but looking out over the sound, we could see it pouring in slanted sheets. We had docked up and battened down in the nick of time (without even knowing we should)!

We rode the trolley from Coquina Beach, where we'd docked, to the north end of the island to Bradenton Beach, where we'd heard there was a cafe with reasonable prices and good food. And it was right on one of the prettiest beaches we'd seen so far! Unfortunately the beach had just been soaked by the rainstorm that we'd seen at Coquina, and the skies were still pretty grey, so it was not a perfect beach day. But the rain had let up, so we grabbed a Philly Cheesesteak Sandwich with fries and ate it on the patio watching the prolific lightning strike over the aqua blue gulf.

The trolley brought us back to our Rose, and we considered the wisdom of continuing toward the Cortez Kitchen. It was still shallow, it was getting toward early evening, and the wind was still a little squirrelly after the earlier storm, so we decided to go back to the dock behind Moore's Stone Crab restaurant. On the way, we saw some real live pink flamingos, which was pretty nifty.

After docking, we ate dinner at Moore's, which was dismally disappointing. I had been craving scallops for a week, and they had them, but the whole scene just didn't work. Mani and I were going to split a plate of fried shrimp and grilled scallops with two sides. Our choices were cole slaw for him and green salad for me. Most other restaurants (of their price range) we'd been to on the trip served warm bread with butter while waiting for the meal; here we got a basket of crackers. The waitress served both the cole slaw in a small bowl and salad with an extra plate for sharing first, which seemed odd to me; I'd think they'd serve the salad for us to share, then the slaw with the meal. So by the time the "meal" came out, all there was was a dish of apparently unseasoned scallops in some flavorless liquid with a fringe of fried shrimp, and the token piece of inedible fresh kale for garnish. We were both pretty unimpressed, but there were no leftovers since the meal was so sparse.

Feeling a little peevish, we went back to the boat and puttered around there, cleaning up and thinking about what to do next on our journey. Writing a letter to the management of Moore's was on my tentative to-do list, but I wasn't up to it. Anyway, at least we could use their docks so maybe that was worth the cost of that crummy meal. After a while Mani came up with the idea of ordering pizza delivery from the Papa John's (his favorite pizza place) we'd seen in Bradenton while we were driving around with Steve. When we finally tracked down their phone number and the delivery address of the dock we were at, we learned they didn't deliver to Longboat Key at all. "Oh, nobody goes there," said the girl on the phone. Not hopeful.

Then we realized we could still walk over to the Mar Vista where we'd had the tasty Beach Fries the day before. So, over we went, laptop in hand, and sat outside. The waiter was very gracious in helping us find an outlet to plug our laptop into (as it was in great need of battery re-juicing). Perusing their menu, we found they had a scallop appetizer, served on a skewer with a ginger plum sauce. To wipe out the memory of Moore's, we ordered that and a 1/2 lb. cheeseburger to share. That did the trick. They were both delicious, the service was excellent, and I don't know why Moore's even has a clientele with Mar Vista right next door. Like why put a Luby's next to Threadgill's? Guess it takes all kinds.

We were able to charge up our laptop and check some email, had leftovers to bring back to the cabin for later, and returned to the boat in much better spirits than after our previous dining experience. Good way to cap off the night -- thanks, Mar Vista!

Thursday, June 28th, 2007
Starting to feel stagnant again, we needed to get a travel plan together. Also needed to do a little work on the laptop, so back over to the Mar Vista for their friendly service and battery charging opportunities. We ordered their nacho plate, which is huge and tasty. Oddly, they do not put beans of any kind on their nachos. It had good taco meat, cheese, black olives, lettuce, tomatoes, pickled jalapenos, and dollops of sour cream and guacamole, with a side dish of salsa (which I suspect was Pace), and it was all good, but I still kinda missed the beans. Guess that's a Tex-Mex thing.

Anyway, while we were sitting there on the back patio, a little shower broke out so Mani ran back to the boat to batten it down while I packed up the laptop and headed inside the restaurant, which this time turned out to be a waste of time because the shower passed right over in a matter of minutes. Seated inside for a change, we got a chance to talk about sailing routes with the guys hanging out at the bar, one of whom turned out to be a really nice one named Graham. Mani was wearing his beautiful imported pirate vest that his dad Russell gave him (you can see it at the top of this page), which I want to say is Nepali, but might be Tibetan or otherwise. Sorry, Russell, can't remember!

Well, Graham piped up and said he used to have a vest just like it, and pulled out a picture of himself 40 years ago with a similar vest on. It was his Visa picture from when he was traveling in a hippie bus through India, Pakistan, Iran, Nepal, etc. I don't know where all he went, but he was full of interesting travel stories, and Mani and I invited him to join our table. When we mentioned that we were looking for a marina with showers, he said he lived a couple blocks away and he'd be happy to walk us over there if we'd like to have a shower while he went back to the Mar Vista to continue drinking his wine. We took him up on the offer without hesitation, and had a nice walk and conversation through the neighborhood to his place.

(Along the way, he pointed out a cute house for sale that was modest sized, nicely landscaped, but not a mansion by any means, which was going for $1.3 million. It wasn't even on the waterfront! Crazy real estate prices around there. Apparently Longboat has some of the highest priced real estate in the country right now, as I've heard from a few people here. And I think Comfort's outrageous!)

He let us in, showed us the way to the shower, got us fresh towels, and told us to lock the front door on the way out. What a guy. We said we'd meet him back at the bar after we cleaned up and buy him another glass of wine. So, that we did.

He mentioned before we left that he was glad to be a part of anyone's travel adventure. What an effect we can have just in passing, whether or not we know we'll ever see each other again. Still the memory of the person will linger in the stories we'll tell. Cheers!

After much debating and studying of charts and weather, we decided to spend one more night at Moore's docks and set out in the morning back to the Twin Dolphin Marina for Steve's going away party. We went back to the Rose for a while. At some point we decided to go back to the Mar Vista to work on the laptop some more and see if there were any more salty dogs we could bum seaworthy information from at the bar, but it was pretty quiet as they were about to close. The bartender pointed us down the street a few blocks to her hangout, Teeny's (aka Longboat Liquors Cocktail Lounge), which had cheaper beer and better company. So we trekked over there, and found it to be fairly sedate but just as hospitable in regards to plugging in the laptop. The music was good, not so loud you couldn't have a conversation, and we ended up schmoozing the night away with the locals.

Friday, June 29th, 2007
With our travel plans pretty much squared away, we shoved off from Moore's docks and puttered back to the beautiful little sandbar where we had scrubbed barnacles a couple days before for some swimming and snorkeling before heading back north to Manatee River for Steve's party that night. Mani spotted some more feisty crabs to battle (toes against pinchers), a couple of live conchs with very pretty shells, and a colony of 4 hermit crabs all crowded together. He brought the hermits back to the boat and we put them in a bucket of seawater in the cockpit to watch their antics for a while. There was a very tenacious one who kept trying to latch onto one of the others. We wondered whether it was making romantic overtures, or what, but we'll just have to keep on wondering because we never saw them get too close to each other! They would climb almost all the way out of their shells while we were holding them, but if you made a sudden move they'd pop right back in again. Pretty cute little guys -- wish we could've brought 'em home with us, but it didn't seem logistically feasible, so we placed them back in the clear, shallow water, and were on our way north.

We had decided the day before when we were charting our course back to Manatee River that we would just go back the way we came, staying in the channel between Anna Maria Island / Longboat Key and the mainland. This was protected from foul weather, but was a tedious trip as the channel got pretty shallow when the tide was out, so we had to keep an eye on our depth and the channel markers to make sure we didn't stray from the path and run aground. There was also the ever present annoyance of speedboats whizzing past us in the narrow channel, careless that their wakes were rocking our vessel violently. So we were looking at an all day motor up the channel, wishing we could let our sails out instead and catch some wind. It had been a while since we'd been free to do so out in open water.

As we were rounding the edge of our little sandbar approaching the Longboat Pass Bridge, about to cut back north again to stay inside the channel, we got a wild hair and thought, why not go west out the pass here and get back out into the Gulf for some sailing on our return north? It was a fair day, blue skies, not too windy, no storm clouds on the horizon. We checked the weather radio and it was the now familiar drone of waves 2 to 3 feet, inland seas a light chop. Nothing we hadn't done already. So we changed our course and headed out the pass.

With the bridge just behind us, Mani noticed that our speed was increasing despite the engine purring at only half throttle. The channel began to narrow, and we found ourselves rushing into the ocean at more than 7 knots. This may have been the first time we benefited from the unfamiliar currents of the tide, breaking away from shore and shallows in record time.

Once clear of the incoming boat traffic and a good way from shore, we hoisted the jib to let the wind assist our little engine. Realizing after a while that the wind was a bit whippier than we wanted, we dropped the sail and cranked up the motor. Too bad about the sailing, but at least we were in the deep open water again instead of the cramped shallow channel, getting barrel rolled by self absorbed speedboaters.

It really was a beautiful day, and for a couple hours we kicked back with some music and enjoyed riding the waves, following the scenic white sand beaches of the Anna Maria coastline. At times the waves were so stout we felt like we were on a ride at Six Flags, the bowsprit rising up out of the water a few feet and thwapping back down again, sending sea spray up to cool us in the cockpit. We were laughing and loving it. Little did we know what that playful sea spirit had in store for us!

Nearing the northern tip of Anna Maria Island, we started to make out a distinct line ahead where the sea turned from the rich green of deep water to the clear aqua blue of shallows. I went into the cabin to get the laptop booted up and check our charts to see what it was. Mani was watching the depth sounder, calling out our depth as it went rapidly from 17 feet to 13 to 7 to THUNK! Just like that, we'd hit bottom. I quickly cranked up the keel and Mani steered us away from shore to get back out toward the deeper gulf waters, plowing through waves that kept trying to push us inland.

Once the charts had loaded, I could see that we had come upon a broad shallow spit reaching a mile or two out to the gulf from the north end of Anna Maria. It was anywhere from 3 to 6 feet deep depending on whether the tide was coming in or going out, and at the moment, the tide was low and coming in toward shore. I was reading off the charted depths in our surrounding area to Mani, trying to give him an idea of how far out to sea we'd have to go to get around the spit, when I saw a little note on the chart that said "Breakers." When I told this to Mani, he was none too pleased, and explained that that meant big rolling waves. Apparently vast expanses of shallow water create bigger waves as they travel toward land, which I'd never known. Great fun for surfers, but potentially devastating for sailboats, as we would soon learn.

We were trying to follow a course away from the island, around the shallow area, but the waves just kept getting bigger and meaner, despite the slowly deepening water. An uneasy feeling crept over the crew, and the bright blue sky seemed somehow darker. Had we really gotten ourselves into a bad spot?

Our attempts to avoid rough seas proved fruitless; the sassy little Six Flags waves had grown. Crashing into 6-foot breakers under full throttle, our bow would heave skyward, hover for a moment, then plunge heavily into the trough of the next oncoming wave. The entire ocean threatened to pour over the deck into the cabin, where I huddled panicked over the laptop, screaming out chart depths and course routes to Mani. Every time we were lifted up and sucked back into the next breaker, I heard all these terrifyingly loud smashing and cracking sounds inside the cabin and feared that the retractable keel's cable would snap from being jerked with such force, or that the hull would get crushed right out from under us when we came back down through the shallow water and hit the ocean floor again. I can see why they call them "breakers"!

You have to steer into large swells, or better yet at a slight angle, lest they broadside you, rolling your vessel, snapping the mast and drowning the crew. If you turn your back to them and head straight for land they'll broach the cockpit, flooding the cabin. While the Macgregor is known to be almost unsinkable and un-turtle-able, we didn't want to put it to the test.

Our trusty engine was having a hard time pushing through, as was I, but it persevered, as did I. White knuckled, teeth gritted, and trying to remind myself to breathe, I focused on the charts and finding a way to the next pass where we could get behind Egmont Key. We could see the key ahead, but it was taking forever to make any headway toward it. Captain Mani, appearing sturdy and confident as ever, holding onto the motor, called out reassurances that we really weren't about to die, and steered into the waves. For the sake of morale, he did not mention that we were also in a race against an ominous squall fast approaching Egmont from the north. Landmarks beyond Egmont disappeared in rapid succession behind a thick curtain of rain.

Through all this, Stella was under the table near my feet, sitting still and alert, looking up at me like "What the hell were you thinking taking a sailboat into the breakers??" I kept telling her everything was going to be alright, and tried to mean it. (It was very helpful to have someone else to be brave for.) Guess we should have studied the charts a little more before deciding willy-nilly to sally on out of Longboat Pass, or listened to the sailors at Mar Vista who told us no one really goes up the gulf side of Anna Maria Island. There's probably a reason for that! Live and learn.

Well, suffice to say that after a nerve-shattering 2 hours of this, we finally made it around the tip of Anna Maria Island and through the pass to get behind Egmont Key. It was immensely reassuring to see boats anchored out, fishing and puttering around. The waves around the the island were rocking the them, but no one seemed distressed. Feeling like we had just returned from the Bermuda Triangle, it was kind of surreal that everyone else seemed so calm. We motored around to the inland side of the island, away from the crushing breakers and the incoming tide's currents, and took a moment to catch our breath, thanking the sea spirits for letting us go.

Sheltered by the island, it seemed a wonderful place to drop anchor and breath, but Mani pointed out the squall still approaching from the North. In fact, all land in that direction was now obscured by its veil. The Comfort Rose had won the race by a fair reach, though, and time was on our side. Having been recommended by Dave in Hudson, the rustic charm of the island deserved a brief perusal, despite the circumstances. Birds covered a small beach on the southern tip, hunting for tasties in the sand, and to the north weathered docks reached out from the rocky shore.

It was between these two points of interest that we noticed a stately schooner of slightly less than 50 feet very near the shoreline. We made out figures on her deck pulling at a rope stretching into deeper water. They appeared to be firm aground and listing slightly. Egmont Key was already to our stern, and the squall was closing in. The safe harbor of the Manatee River and the Twin Dolphin Marina beckoned, and hey, we could still make it to Steve's party if we kept motoring. So we set a course, wished the best for stranded sailors, and headed across Tampa Bay toward the mouth of the Manatee.

Making our way east, we turned to see how far we'd come from the key and watched the storm completely envelope and obscure the little island with heavy grey rain, even as it revealed the Skyway Bridge in its wake.

Motoring up the river in the setting sunlight, we wondered, were we really up to a big social scene at the marina after our harrowing day? Tried to call Steve to see if the party was still happening, but got his voicemail, so we left a message and opted to stop at the Riverside Cafe, the family restaurant across the river from the Twin Dolphin. The staff recognized us, asked about our adventures (we refrained from giving them the full report), and we had a good meal. We had talked ourselves out of going to the party, walked up the block to get ice and cigarettes, and stayed tied up at the courtesy docks for the night to recuperate and count our blessings.

Saturday - Tuesday, June 30th - July 3rd, 2007
Woke up early to move off the courtesy dock before anyone noticed, and motored over to the Twin Dolphin, radioing ahead to make sure they had a slip we could call home for a few days. Ms. Blue confirmed that our old spot B33 was available for us. Apparently there were a bunch of boats coming in that week end for the 4th of July fireworks show, so we were lucky to get in when we did. As we walked up the dock to pay our dues at the office, we saw Steve getting ready to throw off the ropes and sail his home to his new spot on Anna Maria Island. We said we were sorry to miss the party, but he understood when we explained the circumstances, and we made tentative plans to get together again at the Cortez Kitchen.

Got squared away at the office. Mani hooked up the marina-provided cable T.V. in the boat and caught up on some CNN and History Channel while I spent the day by the pool, updating our travel log and chatting with the friendly folks we had met the week end before. I had about a week's worth of writing and picture-placing to catch up on, so I was working on it till late in the evening. Not a bad gig, when you get to sit in the shade by a pool surrounded by palm trees and nice people. I got everything posted to the site up to the day of the breakers, which I just wasn't ready to relive yet, and called it a night.

The next few days were an uneventful bliss of relaxation and vacation for the mind and body (in the real sense of vacation, as in vacating oneself, allowing the brain to be vacant), watching cable T.V. and eating pizza in the boat for Mani, reading a book from the marina's library by the pool for Amy (Fannie Flagg's "Can't Wait to Get to Heaven"), strolling together up the palm-lined streets to the nearby cafes and shops, and casual socializing with the Twin Dolphin community. We figured after surviving the Anna Maria breakers, we had earned a good pampering.

One evening John and Renee, nice folks we'd met there the week end before who live aboard their sailboat, invited us to join their group for dinner at an Italian place up the street, and we had a good time hanging out and listening to the marina gossip. Met a very cool guy there named Alan who gets around in a wheelchair and lives on his sailboat at the marina. We had a good chat walking and rolling back from the restaurant. He's worked for many years in Florida with underprivileged / at-risk youth, taking them out on his boat and teaching them about sailing. Pretty cool!

Everyone at the marina kept talking about how great the 4th of July fireworks show was there, because they shoot them off the pier in the middle of the river right by the marina. Our slip was farthest from the shore, closest to the river, so we had front row seats, if we stayed through the 4th. Also, the Twin Dolphin was throwing a big pool party for all the tenants and guests, which promised to be quite the happening shindig. Since we checked in Saturday morning, the 30th, our 2 night get-away package was good till Monday, then we thought we could spend that night out at anchor in the river and do another 2-day get-away for Tuesday and Wednesday night, which was the 4th. Then we could head out Thursday and make our way back north. Sounded like a good way to wrap up the southern part of our journey, and what fun to spend the fourth with such a friendly bunch of party people!

So, come Monday, Mani went up to the office to return the cable hook up and check out while I started getting the boat organized for our quick motor to the middle of the river to anchor. He came back grinning, cable in hand, saying that once he'd told our good Harbormaster Charlie Price of our plan to anchor out for the night so we could come back for another get-away during the 4th of July festivities, he offered to let us stay Monday night for free. Outstanding! Talk about first rate service. They were so good to us. Well, needless to say, we stayed.

Wednesday, July 4th, 2007
A day at the museum! The day before, we had walked up to the Planetarium / Museum / Aquarium to use our 50% off discount that came with our get-away package. We got there around 4 in the afternoon and the lady at the desk was kind enough to tell us that we wouldn't get our money's worth in the hour before they closed and we should come back earlier the next day. So on the 4th we got there around noon, and enjoyed a full afternoon soaking up all the culture, history, and education their fine collection offered. Somehow seems like a very appropriate way to celebrate our Independence Day.

The aquarium had a live manatee show which was interesting, since we hadn’t seen much of them on the trip. The manatee was pretty sedate, mostly lying at the bottom of the tank, releasing bubbles, and occasionally surfacing to breathe or chomp a head of greens. Paleolithic exhibits chronicled Florida's progression from mastodon to man. A traveling Pirates exhibit (probably a result of the Pirates of the Caribbean’s popularity) displayed some neat artifacts from the age of sail. We popped out the back door for a smoke to find ourselves in a re-creation of a 16th century Spanish mission courtyard, complete with chapel, statued fountain and a conquistador’s home. In the Planetarium, there were a couple of short movie presentations, one narrated by Harrison Ford, and we found these informative voyages through space and time fascinating. I can't think of a better air conditioned time in Florida.

Following a full afternoon at the museum, we walked over to Mattison’s (the restaurant by the marina) mainly so I could take pictures of those funny teeth fish I had been so enchanted with when we were there on the 25th, but also to use up our free calamari appetizer coupon. While we were waiting for the food, we had a chance to take some pictures of those adorable toothy puffer fish. I’ve since learned that they are called Dog-faced or Black-spotted Puffer Fish. Here they are!

When we got back to the marina, we found the marina staff and residents busily preparing the pool area for the evening's celebration. It was a potluck affair, with fried chicken and a keg of beer supplied by the marina's fine harbormaster, Charlie Price. Everyone else was supposed to bring a covered dish. We didn't have a pot to cook in (or a way to cook it) but we did have a gigantic bag of Hoody's salted roasted peanuts, so we offered what we had to the masses. Mani graciously took the bag around to each table, keg cups in hand in which to provide the victuals, and served those who wished to partake of our nutty goodness. He also brought his guitar and offered some entertainment to the party-goers. Again, singing for our supper!

The party wound down as the sun was setting, so we went back down to the end of B dock where Stella and the Rose awaited. Ben and Karen, whom we’d met during our first stay at the Twin Dolphins, and Karen’s mom had arrived at their boat in the slip opposite the dock from ours. We dragged our cooler over to Ben’s boat and settled in for the fireworks. Alan, the sailing instructor we’d met at dinner with John and Renee joined our little party, and we all enjoyed an impressive pyrotechnics show with good company. Later, after everyone else had gone off to sleep, Mani and I went for a last lingering swim in the deserted pool and hot tub, which was lovely. All in all a superb way to spend the 4th, and to wrap up our very comfortable stay at the Twin Dolphins.

Thursday, July 5th
We woke up shockingly late in the afternoon, which we didn’t realize till we went up to use their facilities to find the office was about to close. We were supposed to check out of the slip at noon, but I guess they weren’t too worried about it since they let us sleep till almost five! Mani hurried back to the boat to gather up the cable (for the cable t.v. which he had thoroughly enjoyed) to return to the office. We rushed through our last showers till who knew when, filled up our gas at the marina’s fuel station, and set off back down the river while we still had some daylight.

We made it almost to the mouth of the Manatee River and anchored out near the Caroline C (there are a couple of pictures of her on June 22nd) and some other boats. Safely set for the evening, we went about cleaning up the boat in preparation for our trip back to the Cortez Kitchen the following day to rendez-vous with Steve.

Friday, July 6th
This time we got a much earlier start on the day, with fair weather and calm waters. We motored out of the river mouth and on down to the Kitchen. We had a little trouble making our way to the dock by the restaurant, as it was very shallow and the tide was low. However, with the keel raised and a close eye on our depth sounder, we were able to maneuver through the shallows up to the dock and tie off. The dock is actually part of a fishery next to the restaurant, where we had to walk carefully through the warehouse across their slimy concrete floor. I’m sure the fishy odor was sheer torture for Miss Stella, who was very eager to join us on the dock. Needless to say we made sure to tether her securely in the cabin before going ashore!

The restaurant was fairly busy, but we got a table near the stage and waited for Steve to arrive. I’d brought the laptop with the good intentions of updating the log, but after a brief email check, I put it away and decided to just relax and enjoy the evening. Steve showed up after a little while, and had met up with a couple of his biker friends, so we joined them at the bar. There was live music that night, a young guy playing guitar whose name escapes me now, but with a great voice and upbeat collection of country-rock covers.

We spent a low-key evening hanging out with Steve and his friends, standing around listening to the music and shooting the breeze. At one point before it got dark, Steve gave me a ride on his motorcycle to the convenience store nearby for supplies. I haven’t been on a bike for years, so that was an adventure for me even though it was only a couple of miles! But Steve was a gentleman and a good driver, taking the straight-aways just fast enough to give me a thrill, but taking the turns nice and easy. I held on tight to Steve (“Don’t take this personally!”, I told him), and arrived back at the bar wind-tossed and smiling.

We wound down the night and bid our farewells to Steve and his friends. Steve invited us to stop by his boat in the morning at his new marina slip just across the river from the Kitchen, so we motored out to the other side of the river and anchored out for the night.

Saturday, July 7th
I woke up first, and let Mani sleep in while I puttered around cleaning up and getting things organized. One of the first things I generally did when I got up was to check on Stella, make sure her food and water hadn’t gotten knocked over in the night (and fix it when it had), and clean out her litter box. This morning when I checked on her, she didn’t seem to be her usual perky self, and on closer inspection I found that the hind half of her body was very wet. We didn’t bother to tether her when we were anchored out, figuring she wouldn’t willingly to overboard, but I can only guess that she had done some unintentional exploring beyond the boat while we slept!

We had our rubber dinghy bungeed to the outside of the cockpit with the interior of the dinghy facing the inside of the cockpit. The day before, I’d seen Stella nosing around into the raft from the ledge of the cockpit, putting a tentative paw into the hollow of the dinghy before I shooed her back into the cabin. You couldn’t see the water where the dinghy’s side touched it, so to her it probably looked like another nice little hidey-hole to climb into, but it wasn’t as stable as it might have appeared to her! But, if she did take the plunge that morning, she must have figured it out before it was too late, and climbed back in the cockpit before she got completely soaked. Luckily the dingy wasn’t punctured, either. I hoped it was a good lesson for her to stay in the boat from here on out!

When Mani was up and about, we motored over to Steve’s docks and tied up to one of the courtesy slips. We found his boat and climbed aboard, soaking up the air conditioning in his beautifully appointed and spacious cabin. After a little visit, he pointed us toward the showers at his marina, which we happily took advantage of. Not quite the same luxury as at the Twin Dolphins, but we had learned not to be picky about fresh running water!

We walked through town to the Beach House restaurant, which was on the beach with big windows facing the gulf. It was yet another pretty day (though hot, of course), and the food was good (though pricey, being on the beach). Sufficiently nourished and ready for travel, we walked back to Steve’s, said good bye and got under way back north.

Our goal for the day was to get to the McDonald’s we had docked at on our way down Clearwater Pass, where the Publix grocery store was. We put the sails up for the first time in quite a few days, so it felt good to be using wind power again for a good part of the way. It was a pretty uneventful trip, saw a huge steam ship and some kite-surfers on the way, which were interesting to watch.

Things were going smoothly till it started getting dark and we realized some of our running lights had shorted out. We weren’t too far from the McDonald’s docks, but it would probably have been at least another hour, which Mani didn’t feel comfortable doing at night without all our running lights in working order. So we pulled to one side of the channel, threw out the anchor, and dug out all our electrical supplies and tools from the bilges.

Without going into all the frustrating and painstaking details of the process, we switched out and shorted almost all of our backup fuses and finally managed to find a way to get our running lights functioning well enough to get us to McDonald’s, arriving at the dock near midnight. McD’s was still open, so we grabbed some food, but the Publix was closed so we anchored out near the docks where a couple other sailboats were anchored till morning when we could get supplies and carry on.

Sunday, July 8th
First thing in the morning, we stocked up at Publix, and continued up the narrows, dodging the usual slew of motor boats, till we could get back out to open water. Once we were back in the deeper waters of the gulf, we sailed all afternoon without incident to Anclote Key, a couple miles off the coast of the Anclote River where we’d stayed a few days on the way south (where Miss Vicki’s beachside cantina was. Determined not to get lured back into that comfortable little cove, we anchored out by the key rather than going up the river mouth, which turned out to be a great spot for the night.

Our anchorage to the mainland-side of the key was safe and sound, and we enjoyed an evening of leisurely fishing. Since we didn’t have any way to clean or cook any fish, we were really just amusing ourselves, and we soon found the fish were quite game to join the fun. After throwing out the bait a couple times, we soon found a throng of amberjacks around our boat, wildly jumping out of the water and splashing around, their eyes glowing eerily from the dark water in the light of our lantern.

We caught a few of them, as well as a perch-like fish, took their pictures, and threw them back before they got wise and started biting through the fishing line. We lost a few hooks that way, then decided since we were having more fun just watching their leaping antics, we gave up on hooks and tied one of our sparkly purple rubber worm lures to the line. They jumped at that as much as when we had real bait, like kittens with a toy, and we had a lot of fun playing with them. Needless to say, Stella was equally entertained by the frolicking jacks, but stayed in the boat despite their enticements, thank goodness!

Monday, July 9th
From Anclote Key, we motor-sailed all afternoon to Hudson, where we had met Dave Graham. It was getting close to 5:00pm as we approached the marina at Hudson, and we made it to their docks just in time to buy some gas and ice. It would have been nice to see Dave again, but we were feeling like we wanted to make more progress north, so we continued on our way.

As we motored that evening, Mani finally tackled the project of installing our auto-tiller. We didn’t have the proper tools for the job, which is why we hadn’t attempted it earlier, but we had some free time and smooth sailing (or motoring), so it seemed worth a shot to see if he couldn’t rig it up somehow. With a bit of duct tape and ingenuity, he had it set up and working like a champ! We kicked ourselves for not trying it sooner, as it freed up both of us to move around the boat, so someone wasn’t always stuck at the tiller.

So, happily puttering northward in deep, lightly choppy water with no wild weather on the horizon, we hung out listening to music, conversatin’ and watching movies till the wee hours. I eventually retired to the cabin for some sleep while Mani stayed up to make sure the auto-tiller stayed on course. We were heading for Crystal River, north of Homosassa where we’d put in. We’d heard it had crystal clear water, which we hadn’t seen a whole lot of, and is a manatee preservation area.

Tuesday, July 10th
I awoke just before sunrise to Mani hollering from he cockpit that he’d spotted a water spout not far off. He’d been up all night keeping an eye on things as we motored north, and we were still a fair way from the point where we’d need to turn eastward to get to the mouth of Crystal River. However the water spout was only a mile or two north of us, so we veered off northeast to give it a wide berth. It eventually faded off in the distance behind us, and with that excitement past, I went back to bed.

This time when I woke, Mani was sound asleep in the v-berth beside me, and it was mid-afternoon and hot in the cabin. We were up the mouth of Crystal River now. I poked my head out to see where we’d landed, and was pleasantly surprised to find we were beached at a beautiful little shell-covered island, shaded with lots of verdant trees and lush undergrowth, with our anchor thrown out on the beach. It looked like our own little bit of secluded paradise.

Stepping out to get a fuller view of our whereabouts, I turned around to find we hadn’t gotten too far from civilization after all! Not far off were visible two nuclear smokestacks spewing whatever it is they spew into the air, practically creating their own weather system. We had seen them on the horizon beyond the waterspout that morning, clouding the sky and looking rather ominous. And here they were now, much nearer, but far enough for me. I’d just look away from those unpleasant signs of civilization back toward the island and enjoy that scene instead!

I gathered up a towel and some other supplies, and climbed off the boat into the 2-feet of water and onto land. After a brief exploration of my immediate surroundings, I spread out my towel under a palm tree and laid back in the light breeze. It was a peaceful little spot, for a time. Before long, though, I heard a little rustle behind me, and it occurred to me that I hadn’t even considered the possibility of alligators in the abundant brush.

Springing up and a few feet into the water (not the smartest move if it had been an alligator), I whirled around and saw a cute little raccoon had come out of the underbrush onto the beach. Cute though it was, but not sure how hungry or territorial it might be (or what might have flushed it out from the greenery), I shooed it away so I could grab my things, and clambered back onto the boat. There I stayed, waiting till Mani got up so I’d have some backup next time going ashore.

After a little R&R at Shell Island, we pulled up anchor and motored up the river to the Twin Rivers marina for gas, ice, and showers. We were disappointed to find that the water was nowhere near crystal clear, and as we continued upriver it got more and more slurmy with underwater plant life and surface muck. Not exactly what we’d been hoping for, but oh well, here we were!

We reached King’s Bay, where there were a number of other boats anchored out. There are several little islets in the bay, one of which is a nature conservatory with lots of birds and who knows what other creatures. We were in manatee territory! There was one little island by the restaurant with a house on it, which I thought was very cute but probably not very convenient to anything, not to mention being likely to flood with storm waters.

We docked up at Crackers Restaurant on the edge of King’s Bay, and treated ourselves to a decadent meal of steak and seafood platters. It was one of the better meals on the trip, and we had some left to bring back to the boat for later. On our way back down the pier to the Rose, Mani spotted a baby alligator lurking in the slurm, just inside the edge of the water. We stopped to take some pictures, but the 2-foot alligator blended in so well with the muck coating the water’s edge that you couldn’t make him out very well in the pictures. So we got the idea to throw him some of our leftover steak fat while we filmed, which worked! He jumped after the little bits I threw, and sunk back quickly into the slurm, but we got a couple good shots of him. Our first (and only, thank goodness) alligator encounter in the wild!

Motoring back out to where the other boats were anchored, we were scouting around for a good spot to anchor when a guy on one of the boats called over to us. He was on a nice big wooden sailboat, and we’d noticed him lolling in a hammock on deck when we were coming into the bay. We came up alongside and he asked what kind of anchor we were using, because the river bottom there was notoriously soft, so it’s difficult to set your anchor well.

We bantered back and forth for a bit about our anchor situation, and he didn’t think our type of anchors would hold there. But he had another smaller sailboat he’d had anchored there for a year or more, which was well-set in the mud. Mike (as we learned he was called) offered to let us moor off to that boat, and we gladly took him up on the offer. After he helped us tie up to his boat, we invited him aboard ours for some company, so he joined us for some story swapping. He told us a good one about nearly getting knocked out of his kayak by an alligator after having drinks on a friend’s boat there in King’s Bay, but for whatever reason it let him be after a couple of strong bumps, and he hightailed it back to his own boat and safety. Yikes!We’ll be keeping our hands out of the water here!

While we were all hanging out, a couple of manatees came close to our boat doing barrel-rolls near the surface of the water. That was so cool! Mike left after a bit to get his dog from his boat and go to shore for a trip to town. We thanked him for his hospitality and help getting situated, and settled down to watch movies in the cockpit and snack on our tasty dinner leftovers. We continued to hear the gentle splash-snuff-snorts of the manatees coming to the surface for air throughout the night.

Wednesday, July 11th
Without the crystal waters we’d been hoping for, we didn’t see much reason to linger in King’s Bay, so we had some lunch at Crackers and planned to head back downriver that afternoon. While at the restaurant we called up to the Magic Manatee Marina in Homosassa to make sure they’d be ready to lift the Comfort Rose out of the water for us the following day. It had been one month since putting in, which was how long we’d paid them to store our Jeep and trailer. We were pretty much on schedule!

Motoring back for a couple of hours, we were coming up to Shell Island and decided to pull over for a last bit of afternoon beach lounging before the haul back to Homosassa River. So we beached the Rose one last time, climbed out and set up our cooler and blanket on the beach.

Boats were going by on the river regularly, and some stopped down the beach from us, folks climbing out to shell hunt, swim, and picnic. Once Mani was up, we got some snacks together and came down to the beach for our own picnic. There was a party boat with a family of several folks nearby, and after a while, the little raccoon I’d seen came back out to beg some food from them, which they were happy to share.

Apparently the raccoons on the island are pretty used to people coming by, as this one stayed around to eat several bits of hotdog from the family, and came so close to one girl she fed it by hand. Another raccoon showed up, and now that I knew they weren’t vicious or rabid, I was charmed by them! I tried to lure one over with our picnic food, but either they were already full, or they didn’t care for Vienna sausages, plums, or chips.

We scouted around the island, following trails through the trees. It was pretty small, and backed up to marshland which wasn’t very appealing, so