Key West ho!

After a long, but pleasant downwind run from Channel 5, we made it to the Key West Bight around 5:30pm.

It was cool to be that boat cruising by Mallory square into the Bight and not the poor slob on land wishing they were.

The captain got himself psyched out a bit in approaching our slip.  Multi-million dollar boats tend to do that to him.  Also, without a working knot meter he's been kinda misjudging how fast he's going.

So, thus, we approach our assigned slip at the Galleon Marina at a fairly rapid speed. As in fairly rapid, I mean. HOLY SHIT!  Our dock master, who looked rather like Lewis Black was trying to remain calm while saying "Slow down there, Cap."  In the meantime, I am wondering how far I will be launched off the bow when we hit the dock.

However, 'Cap' really did a good job controlling the boat and we got her tied off.  I went to go check us in while Tim sprayed off the boat.  By the time I made it over to the dockmaster's office, Tim and already become legend.  We had a good laugh at my husband's expense and in his absence.  And they invited us to share their barbecue later--since somehow in the midst of 5 knot docking Erik and Tim managed to have a full conversation about the non-working Magma grill.  WTF?

By the time I got back Tim had rinsed of HemiD and himself and was ready for a drink.  I wanted to fulfill my personal goal of waltzing into the Schooner Wharf Bar crusty with salt and smelling like a sailor, so we just headed over.  Yeah, that's right, I SAILED here  you bitchesesess.

I kicked off the eve with a Dark and Stormy and from there on out the evening got progressively fuzzier.

Shrimping boat heading out for the night.

The USS Normandy in town.  This is a real f***youup ship with
armaments to blow you out of the sky, off of land,
out of the water or even underwater.

Mallory Square pre-Sunset Celebration

Hemi D in her slip safe and sound.

Dancing with Dolphins

We got our dolphin visit.  A pod of six came to play in our wake for about 15 minutes.  I will never tire of these guys.

We were averaging around 5 1/2-6kts at the time and they would just fall behind the boat and then race forward ahead of us, almost as if they tried to get to the bow first.  Then they would repeatedly criss-cross across the bow.  Very fun, and not a bad way to spend a Saturday morning.

Enjoy the pictures.

 

Thar be Cookie Pirates aboard

We once again get up at the butt crack of dawn to continue our journey to Key West.  We should hit the bight by 5-6pm if all goes well.

Once we get stowed and underway I call first dibs on a nap.

Now--before we went on this trip, I explained to my darling spouse that I was having issues with trusting him when its his watch.  This insulted husband immensely.  However, I stuck to my guns and reminded him that every time I went to catch some shut eye (especially since I cannot sleep on the hook) I would wake up and find him down below dinking with the iPad or making a sandwich or some other nonsense.
So, I beat him down to submission and he said he'd try to be a good boy.

Thus comes the Legend of Captain CompyComp the Cookie Pirate.

No sooner than I fall asleep, Tim gets the munchies.  Realizing that if he gets caught down below will just give me more reason to read him the riot act, he proceeds to stealth cookie acquisition mode.

Except, I had stowed said cookies and he couldn't find them.  So, stealthily he perused the cabin for all my food storage spaces pleading to the gods that I will not wake up.  And I'm asleep in the salon also, not our berth so he's really up for a challenge.

He managed to find his cookies and headed back up top.

When I awoke, he was very proud of himself and of course, being my husband, couldn't keep the secret of cookie piracy to himself and promptly told me.

And yep, I yelled at him again.  While laughing.

No one shall come between me and my cookies!

Skinny water sailing for dummies

Okay, now it's time for the next adventure of the day.

Spouse is review the charts and says, right before this channel marker you can cut through, we have plenty of depth.

Ha. HaHaHa. HardyHarHar.

So, trusting his chart reading skills--quoth the raven, nevermore--I proceed to do what he says.  Then decide that the grounding of the boat will be while he's at the helm. Not I.

He takes over.  Keeps going, I'm starting to see in startling clarity and HD reception some coral head and bottom.

Then, here we go, OH SHIT, hard left, hard left.  That was 4 feet of water, NOT 6.

For once, I realized it would be wise that only one of us on board should be shitting mickies, so I kept relatively calm and started watching for potential grounding opportunities.

Okay, I was privately smirking to myself.  At least I kept us in 15-20 feet of water with my stupid ass stunt. (of which I am STILL blaming RayAutopilot)

So we get out of a potential grounding situation and my darling spouse meekly proceeds to head through the proper channel to the Florida Bay side.

We found our anchorage and nailed it.  And for once, the whole hand signal think worked, and didn't involve use of the middle finger hand signal.

And it was wondrous, the boat was SO STILL.

So, it's time to grill some steaks, have a drink and crash. (it was a 13 hour sailing day--I TOLD you I put forth an ambitious plan)

But, Sir Captain forgets that his duties entail maybe cleaning out the Magma once a decade (or in our case within the last 3 years). It's so clogged it won't start. Then the crack lighter will not work.  Then, just because we hadn't had enough excitement in the last 2 hours, Spouse breaks out the butane torch from his tool box to light the grill.  Oh Lordy, just let me swim to shore now.

Grill never lights.  So grilled steak rapidly becomes Sauteed Filet Mignon d'HemiD.  And I NAILED IT.

Also roasted my ass off down below. BUT I NAILED IT.  Despite the Captain's attempts to coach my cooking technique, which was rewarded with some proper hand gestures of the middle finger, they turned out really well.

Of course, as soon as it's time for bed, the wind kicks up and starts howling. We never moved, but I just can't seem to get the sleeping under anchor down.

It also didn't help that some night fisherman decided that our anchor line was a great place to fish off of and not amusing Tim a'tall.

However, it was all worth it.

Nothing beats a beautiful sunset.

Best anchor image yet on the GPS, still couldn't sleep.

So, today's trip covered 75nm, only 60nm more to the Key West Bight.

A (somewhat) organized plan to sail to Key West

Bright and early we got ready to shove off for Key West.  I set a ambitious sail plan for us.
Which we made.

Stuff like re-reviewing charts and all that?
Not so much.

We hit the road, a little later than planned, but no big deal.  We got through Biscayne Channel with a dolphin sighting to bless our voyage.

Then out in Hawk Channel we deployed the sails and got headed off.

Tim went to bed.  I started sightseeing.

And Ray the Autopilot started heading for the Bahamas. Shit you not.

Okay, my fault was not to review again the paper chart to make sure I was heading for the correct day marker.

And as person on watch, I might have taken note that our illustrious autopilot was going on a joyride.

But. But. BUT.

We were sailing beautifully, the sunrise was gorgeous. The water was beautiful.

And got really beautiful.

And I thinks to myself, this is the beautiful water and blues you see when around a coral reef.

..........Coral......Reef......d'oh.

Shit.  Question: Okay, how can I finesse my way out of this mess before Tim wakes up.
Answer: I won't.

Tim comes up top and I do my best batting of the eyes and "uh, honey, I wuv you, but oops"  He assesses the situation, however, since he's not what we call a quick waker upper, he gets rather alarmed with my slalom sailing through 3-4 MLLW coral rocks.

Some guys, no sense of humor at all.

So, it wasn't really THAT BAD. (He had his moment later in the day, but that's another story)  He found a break and I literally did a hard right and barreled to our proper course and water depth.  Then I was sent to bed without any supper.  Okay, it was still 8 a.m. in the morning.

However, it wasn't like was doing NOTHING!  See?

Going through Biscayne Chanel and the flats before Biscayne Key

Old Glory off the stern catching the rising sun

As usual, the camera can't really catch the true beauty of the color.
But this is when I started to realize that something may be amiss.

The rest of the day went fabulously well, until just before Channel Five Bridge......

Keep reading

Restaurant Review--Bimini Boatyard, Ft. Lauderdale

Just a stone's throw away from our usual favorite haunt the Southport Raw Bar.  (fly KC to FLL, stop at the West Marine just by the airport, go eat.  THEN you are ready to start vacation)

However, I had heard about a nice joint called the Bimini Boat Yard, literally just around the corner (or down the canal) from the Raw Bar.

In a word. Yum.

First of all, any joint that will offer me Kim Crawford Sauvignon Blanc as a happy hour drink wins a special place in heaven with me.  Tim had a couple (40?) Bahama mamas that were kick ass.

Then the food came.  They specialize in fresh made Bimini Bread. OMG! You get a cavity just looking at it.  It was so good. Our fabulous waiter said that we should make french toast out of the left overs. We didn't get a chance (there was a big boat mouse called Tim on board), but I just probably would have died.

I had a seared Ahi Tuna salad that was incredible. Avocados, mango, champagne vinaigrette. Yes.  Tim had Mahi Mahi wood fired grilled. Also, quite awesome.

So, we may have a new favorite place. Didn't hurt that we had a view of some really nice sailboats and fresh breezes and sun.

The cure for the common seasonal allergy

Get ourself out on a boat, put said boat about 3 nm offshore and sail for 130 miles.

The midwest spring allergy season has not only kicked my ass, but several people I know.  It doesn't help that the farmers are taking advantage of the dry spring to set half the state on fire either.

So, when the going gets tough, the tough get their asses on a sailboat.  I'll gladly trade my Zyrtec, Nasocort and Pulmocort for some Dramamine and seasickness bands. Bring it the f*ck on.

So, the plan, and actually planned out this time.  Heading down to Key West to not only get some long haul sailing practice in, but help celebrate the annual Conch Republic Independence Day, er, Week.
We managed to snag a slip at the Historic Bight (Galleon Marina-review will be forthcoming) for the weekend and then leave her over at Stock Island again (different marina-review to come also).  Considering a hotel was going to cost for two nights what our slippage is, no brainer.

So, as a reward for suffering through the coldest mutha-f*cking winter the Keys has seen, Mother Nature and Father Neptune have blessed us with warm weather, sunny skies and awesome winds.

Then this shit pops up on my Weather Underground page:
Invest?  INVEST?  What the hell is INVEST?

However, I do love the computer model.  It could hit Cuba....or Bahamas....or Bermuda..... or British Isles.  What the hell. It's a crap shoot.

Of course, The Weather Channel is just pissing themselves with joy over a semi-formed low pressure system in the Atlantic.  Between that and the wicked storms traversing the country, it's a weatherman's  wet dream.

So, cheerio. See you on the flip side.  Or for reader's entertainment, possible drunk post.