Long Haul

When your sailboat has a hull speed of just 5.5 knots, distances matter. The stretch from Anclote Key to Bayport has no protection from the open bay. Weather matters. We had a good 27 or so miles to cover before dark.

Winds were out of the east, predicted to swing to the southeast later in the day, good for our northernly route. I motored a short way into deeper water. We raised the sails, dropped the keel and rudder and were off.

It was a lively ride, 2 - 4 foot seas. Fairly often gusts of wind would propel us to hull speed or even a bit more. Just when I would think of reducing sail, the wind would drop some, but still kept us going over 4 knots.

The sun was out, the wind was brisk, and the miles dropped away. There really wasn’t much to photograph except miles and miles of open water. The two large dolphins that surfaced 4 feet from the boat were there and gone before we could even think of getting out the camera.

During one strong burst of wind, my lovely wife’s hat blew off into the water. Seas were 4 feet and we were moving at hull speed. She was willing to let it go, but I declared a man overboard drill. At that point we had to make a good effort to retrieve the hat.

We’ve done man overboard drills before, but not under such conditions. It’s a whole different deal, but that’s when it would really matter. We kept touching the hat with the hook, but between the waves rocking the boat and the wind blowing, we couldn’t get hold of it. The outboard motor slipped off it’s mount and only the safety rope I tied on it kept it from going to the bottom. It took about six passes before we snagged the hat with the boat hook, but we did get it.

I’d entered the Bayport channel marker as a waypoint in the GPS. Winds dropped off and became variable, the last few miles to the marker. I was tempted to start the motor, but my lovely wife had the tiller and wanted to try and sail in. Her patience was rewarded as a light but usable southwest wind came up. We had real difficulty spotting the channel marker. Eventually, we spotted something, and the GPS said it was the right location. Double checking with the chart confirmed it.

The problem was the marker looked nothing like the marker we left behind the week before. Deciding to trust our navigation, we headed down the channel. After a mile it became clear that we made it to where we were supposed to be. Apparently, in the week we were gone, the old marker had been replaced with a new one.

As we pulled into the boat ramp, my dad drove in with my truck and trailer. According to the GPS, we’d done 29 miles in 8 hours. It was a good way to end the week.

-Sixbears

What to do in case of grounding

Caladesi State Park is difficult to leave in a timely manner. It’s just too darn pretty and comfortable. We didn’t make it out of there until fairly late in the morning. By then the wind had died down but it was still enough to sail by.

Having never sailed until last year, there’s been a lot of firsts for the lovely wife and myself. After we left the park, we headed to the Honeymoon Island bridge. We’d never had a bridge open for us before. After years of stopping in my car for open draw bridges, it was pretty neat to have one open for me. It reminded me of the fake bridge at a NH amusement park called Storyland. They have a drawbridge for the park’s swanboat and pirate ship. When I said, “Just like Storyland,” my wife burst out laughing.

We had a pleasant sail up to Anclote Key but the sun was soon sinking into the west. We needed the light to attempt an anchorage we’d been told about. Anyone who’s sailed Florida’s waters knows the charts are not always up to date. Whole islands come and go with the storms. A local told us about a channel, 3 - 4 feet deep, that came quite close to North Anclote Key.

Here’s where things get dicey. There are a couple small islands at the north end of Anclote that appear on some charts as North Anclote Key. I attempted to find a channel up near those little islands. When wading birds appeared in front of me, I realized there was no channel. The boat grounded, but I was able to put the motor in reverse and back off.

We turned around towards deeper water, but didn’ get very far before getting grounded once more. There was no motoring off this time. There was only thing to do: make chicken soup. Since we weren’t going anywhere anyway, I set up the stove and cooked dinner. After a leisurely dinner, dished were cleaned up and the cooking gear put away. Just as we were contemplating what to do next, we floated off with the rising tide.

Once we got into deeper water, I dropped the hook for the night. Anclote Key isn’t the best of anchorages. Wind protection from the North and East is poor. That night, wind was predicted to come out of the North at 5 knots, then move to the East at 15. That’s pretty much what happened. I was extra cautious setting the anchor. The night was bit rolly, but the anchor stayed put and we got some sleep.

Only later did I figure out that my local sailor must have meant the Gulf Harbor’s Sand Bar, also known as North Anclote Bar. There is enough water for a shallow draft boat like mine to get quite close to the shore. On my chart, it doesn’t look like much. From on the water, it’s an actual island with vegetation growing on it. The next time we go down this coast, we hope to stop there. Live and learn.

-Sixbears

Slow boating

We left Caladesi State Park and killed the motor as soon as we left the park’s narrow channel. The sails went up, but the wind went down. When we did get any wind, it was usually from the south -the direction we were trying to go in. A day’s sailing only got us down as far as Clearwater.

Florida winters feel a lot like New Hampshire summers, but the sun still goes down early. One if the things I wanted to do before dark was to buy a little gasoline. I’d burned about 2.5 gallons of gas. That doesn’t sound like much, but it was half my supply. We docked at the Clearwater Marina for fuel. While we were there, we took advantage of the courtesy dock. That gave us a chance to walk the dog and check out the waterfront. Next to the marina, we found a little restaurant that was dog friendly.

After dinner, darkness had fallen. The marina charged 2/foot, but I could see several boats anchored in the harbor. That’s where we spent the night. My new anchor paid for itself pretty quickly this trip.

The day’s sail was pretty disappointing as far as distance traveled. It soon occurred to us that if we were going to make any distance at all, we’d have to motor the whole way. Winds were predicted to be in our face the whole time. As we were approaching “The Narrows” we would have little room to tack. Rather than motor through condo canyons, we decided to turn around and head north.

The original plan was to make it much further down the coast, however, the real goal was to enjoy ourselves and sail. The next morning, we hauled anchor and headed back north to Caladesi.

-Sixbears

Rest Day, or so we thought

After two days of hard sailing, my lovely wife and I decided to take a day off. The plan was to check out the island, hang out on the beach and generally take it easy.

That plan worked until the early afternoon. That’s when the boats started coming in. The night before, there was only a handful of boats in the entire marina. As Saturday wore on, the boats just kept coming in.

In the photo, if you look closely, you’ll see two sailboat masts. The shorter black mast belongs to my sailboat. As you can see, it’s completely overshadowed by large powerboats.

As they came in, they’d tie up, connect water and power, and unload folding chairs. After the chairs were set up on the docks, the drinks flowed and the music played. My lovely wife and I introduced ourselves to this party crowd. All of them come from just a few miles away. They party at the island almost every weekend.

So they’d be comfortable, we broke out our bottle of rum and had a few drinks. Most of that crew had a whole lot more to drink. After a while, it did get a bit awkward. The guy next to me, well into his cups, started telling me how much he envied me and my small sailboat. This guy had a huge powerboat. His dingy cost more and had triple the power of my sailboat. However, his wife never let him go anywhere. All he ever wanted to do is to sail a small boat up and down the coast as the whim struck him, but he never had any time off from work.

The party got a bit wild as the night wore on. My wife and I wandered off to hang with a different group that had a nice campfire going by the park pavilions. We connected with a nice young couple, also sailing an older small sailboat (a Catalina from the late 70s). Like us, they were traveling with a beagle mix. They were actually impressed with what I’d done with my boat: cup holders, electrical system, running lights, stainless steel boarding ladder, compass, and the new tiller. Their boat was so bare bones it didn’t have running lights or even a compass. Since all their sailing was in familiar waters during the day, it didn’t matter that much.

Eventually, we made our way back to our boat. The party was still going strong, but mostly confined to one of the larger boats. The noise wasn’t too bad, except when people would open and close the door. Then a blast of sound escaped. In spite of that, we didn’t have that much trouble falling asleep.

In the morning, we decided to have our coffee and breakfast back up at the pavilion. The other sailing couple mentioned they didn’t have everything they needed to make coffee, so I invited them to join us. After a pleasant breakfast, we threaded our way past the waking party zombies and quietly exited the marina.

-Sixbears

Sailing upwind

It’s said that gentlemen don’t sail upwind. I’m no gentleman.

We raised anchor at Anclote Key and beat our way to the start of the ICW channel. Never being one to color within the lines, I left the channel behind and went to the open Gulf. Seas were 2 - 4 feet and wind from the south, but there was wind. We beat our way in the open Gulf most of the day.

I was having a blast, sailing along further and further from land. My wife brought me back to earth by pointing out I was sailing past our channel. Hurricane Pass is hard to spot from the Gulf side. That’s where even my simple GPS came in handy. Good thing my lovely wife pays attention to such things.

We negotiated the shallow pass between Honeymoon and Caledesi Islands. Then I had to motor up wind through a shallow bay towards Caledesi State Park. I totally missed the narrow channel into the park. There’s a large area heavily posted with “no internal combustion engines” signs. I stayed too far away from that area to see the tiny gap into the park. The park isn’t visible from the bay as it sits among mangroves.

Once again, my lovely wife discovered my error with the chart and GPS. By hugging the “no engine” area we eventually found the narrow channel to the park and got there just before sunset.
Caledesi has a beautiful little marina with good floating docks equipped with power and water. We missed the regular staff to sign in, but the volunteer said it wasn’t a problem. They’d get to me in the morning.

The park volunteer was a robust man in his 80s. Chatting with him I learned that he’s from about 40 miles away from my home. His wife comes from 20 miles away. We knew a lot of the same people. Friends of mine have a camp on the same small lake in VT that he has a summer place on. Small world.

The volunteer gig is a pretty good one. I don’t know the details, but this guy’s been doing it for ten years. There’s some light duties that need to be done, but he can keep his boat at the docks. It’s a beautiful place to spend the winter. The island feels like a remote wild area, but civilization is a short trip across the bay. He says he’s so happy on the island that he rarely goes anywhere else.

After a late dinner after sunset, we called it a day and turned in early.

-Sixbears

First week on the water

Just got back after a week on the water. After 4 days of heading south, we decided not to slog our way against a headwind through condo canyons. Instead, we headed north for more favorable winds and nicer views. I really hate to motor and that's what I'd be forced to do in the narrows. Later, we plan to trailer to other parts of the state that interest us more and head back on the water again.



Night Sail to Anclote Key

The first day of our trip turned into a night sail. Winds were favorable, from the north, but light. We chugged along at “burble speed.” That’s just fast enough for the hull to make happy gurgling noises. I was content enough.

As the afternoon wore on, my lovely wife and I had to come to a decision. Do we head down a channel and stay at a marina, or do we night sail and anchor out. We sailed on. It had been a pleasant day, sunny with temps in the upper 60s. As soon as the sun went down, it got pretty chilly. I’m glad I had my winter hat on the boat.

Eventually, the wind died completely and we reluctantly started the motor. As luck would have it, we were surrounded by crab pots. The last thing you want to do is get one of those buoys tangled up in your prop. We motored a few stressful miles in near total darkness, ever watchful.

We relied heavily on our chart and GPS to find our anchorage at Anclote Key. Lacking a depth finder, we used the boat hook at full extension to feel our way along the bottom. The plan was to take advantage of our shallow draft and get as close to the island as possible, staying far outside the channel. I almost cut it too close. I allowed for low tide, but just barely. In the morning, the boat was floating, but not by much.

My lovely wife and I slept well, comfortable in our wee little boat. In the morning, we were treated to a visit by a couple of porpoises. I made coffee on the boat. After a light breakfast, we raised anchor and continued our southward journey.

-Sixbears

Quick update

Currently in Clearwater Harbor. I scammed a wifi signal but it's pretty sketchy. Sorry, photos will have to wait. Typing with a laptop in the dark, on the boat, isn't easy.

Night 4 on the water, having a wonderful time.

-Sixbears