Horseflies and Heeling

Thursday's excitement:

-Left St. Augustine st sunrise. Caught the 7:30 am opening of the Bridge of Lyons, before it closed for rush hour. Even boats are ruled by the 9-to-5 grind.

-Porpoises playing with our boat (photos). Manatees ducking and fleeing.

-Huge Florida horsefly took a chunk out of the captain. Blood streaming down his leg. The vicious perpetrator was swiftly tried and executed. Better Pope than me! I would be on the next bus home! I am living, breathing, and eating Deep Woods Off. 

-Captain Runaground seized control of our boat, briefly; up to his old tricks (see last year's blog). I was in the cabin, resting. I think Pope was asleep at the wheel. We bumped the bottom at the channel's edge and, fortunately, bounced off.

Captain Runaground

-Heeling over under full sail (my least favorite part of sailing) in the South Amelia River. Lining up range markers visually to stay in the narrow channel. Pretty billowing sails, though.

Hopefully that will be all the excitement for today! Trying for Cumberland Island, Georgia, by sumset.

Those Darn Crab Pots

Like any entity that's been passed back and forth by owners and empires and geographically and geologically messed up, Florida is a mixed-up mama that can't make up its mind. Pamper visitors? Or make them cry?

Started the morning with the state's notorious muggy weather and no-see-ums so thick and undiscerning they were biting Pope! (An extremely rare occurrence; normally they congregate around me while he laughs over in the shadows.)

We passed mosquito-y marshes and barrier islands with wall-to-wall high rises.

Then the state threw a few hundred crab pots into our parh.

Having been forewarned by the crew of Wren, a sailboat that lost its transmission from tangling with these dangerous devices, we were ultra vigilant. In central Florida, they are packed into the MIDDLE of the ICW channel! Seems like there oughta be a law against navigational hazards. Maybe there is.

Balancing those manmade death traps are the natural wonders of the ICW Zoological Extravaganza and Wild Game Park. Broad-butt manatees and dancing  porpoises. Pelicans, herons, hawks, egrets, anhingas. 

Dragonflies and orange monarch butterflies. And, ahem, our first giant horsefly. ONE INCH LONG.

And then came...the bridges. 

For each one, you have to take down the sail(s) and wait for a bridge opening. Then turn into the wind, up with the sail(s) and underway agaiin. A laborious and time-consuming process.

In the end, the Sunshine State relented and served up a cool breeze and perfect sailing weather. I made good time with the mainsail while Pope stayed below, patching the jib. Another 70 mile day. (The newly rebuilt engine is faster and more powerful than the old!)

We finished the day at the home of Judy and Dave ftom sailboat Wren in Palm Coast, for cool drinks and laughs on their screened patio. (For more on them, see blog posts from Nassau in January; they were fellow members of the Broken-Down Boat Club.)

Yes, Florida has a lot to offer--sunny, funny, and sometimes aggravating as helll.

It's a Marathon!

We set a record for our longest mileage in a day--74 miles! Vero Beach to Titusville.

Blessedly breezy on our beam. Kept the heat down, swept the boat along at 6 knots per hour, and blew the bugs to kingdom come. 

Pope pulled all morning against strong wind. I unpacked and organized the cabin.

A turn at the helm builds muscle faster than yoga or weight-lifting!!

Some blood (Pope's arm, my hand); sweat (though not too hot today), and a few tears. In order to motor through a drawbridge (not allowed to sail), we had to take in our jib in full wind. The sail flogged badly, ripping a seam. Time for sail mending.

First, sunset and dinner at a mooring off Titusville.

Took the sail down after dark. Found more damage. Pope will be sewing all day with dental floss and his knuckle-sized thimble while I limp along the waterway with the engine and mainsail.

Will be a long slow slog tomorrow--and maybe longer--without the jib.

Mastering the Old Tricks: Shakedown Day

Our first stop: Vero Beach City Marina, where we met for the second time today.

After retrieving me from the West Palm Beach airport, Pope sped up the waterway at top hull speed under full jib in 15+ winds in Echo II, being extra careful because he only had 50% of the normal observational power needed to safely operate the boat, being all alone. And promptly hitting a piling pulling out of Fort Pierce.

First day on the Waterway: 7 young ladies on a powerboat bared their breasts for Pope, instigated by their boat captain. Which of course made Pope's day! Unfortunately, the captain was guzzling whiskey--cruising for a crash.

I was attacked by a four-inch cockroach that had made its home in our bunk.

I drove the rental car to Vero Beach and returned it there to join Pope on the boat. Stopped at an ocean beach or two.

Cruised the dollar store in search of a fly swatter, being forewarned by other cruisers about the biting green-headed horse flies. They were sold out! But I found the next best thing.

Beautiful old trees with Spanish moss in Vero Beach, home of the rich and richer, with miles of gated communities and golf clubs.

Already, we are playing midget to the giant cruisers...

... while relearning the tricks of the trade.

On the Go: Travelling in a High-Tech World

OK, I’ll admit it. Finally. I love my iPhone.

Here I am, sitting at Gate 31 at Ronald Reagan National Airport, trying to get airport Wifi (does it ever work, anywhere in the world???) and appreciating the ability to whip out my tiny machine, prepare an email, or jot down notes for the blog. Or, catch up with friends by phone.

Pope and I bought iPhone 3s to use on sailboat cruises. Even though the model is out of date in the Apple world, and connected via the substandard Sprint network, the mini-computers have enhanced our communications immensely. Pope calls from Chesapeake Bay or Cape Cod—or, this weekend, Fort Pierce, Florida--where he is off proving his worth as an old salt. The blogspot app allows me to add photos of sailors or whales or –or airports--to my blog.

During the years I stubbornly stuck with a Virgin Mobile flip phone ($5 a month), friends insisted a smartphone would become “my best friend.” They were right. (At a substantial cost, of course.)

When technology really comes in handy is when I am busily multitasking, running to 3 or 4 events in one day, trying to meet up with others and at the same time help Pope decide what to cook for dinner.

But you know all that.

What I really wanted to say is that, on the cusp of another cruising adventure—moving the sailboat up the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) toward home—the usual fears are cropping up, though on the whole I am looking forward to the adventure.

I had a mild anxiety attack last night, even while sitting in a spiritual center chanting mantras. Amateur psychologists are welcome to jump on board with us, to analyze my twisted brain waves--while serving as Second Mate, of course.

Unlike the ocean passages last summer, fall, and spring, we have an easy trip ahead--travelling in the US and docking at marinas. Enjoying shoreside dinings. Meeting fellow cruisers heading home before hurricane season.

Today I join Pope in Fort Pierce to begin yet another journey on the high seas and inland waterways. Despite the occasional shiver, I am anxious to reunite with boat and Captain and find out what’s in store.

Are We "Living the Life" Yet?

Pope said to me many times during our Bahamas cruise: "We're finally 'living the life,' Amber!"

Who popularized that phrase anyway, and what exactly does it mean?

Like any enterprising journalist with a reputation for accuracy, I needed a credible source. So I looked it up on Google. Other than being the name of a B-grade movie about a tattooed teenager, and more recently a British TV series, I didn't find a lot of credible information about the expression. It's likely that the phrase got mixed up with "living the life of Riley," an expression that suggests an ideal contented life, often living on someone else's money. That phrase has been around since World War I and was the focus of a humorous radio and TV show in the 1940-1950s.

Pope, in using the expression, definitely was referring to an ideal, contented life. Well, I don't completely agree that the cruising conditions were ideal--as you know if you've been reading the blog--but you could say that I lived on Pope's money for a while. He paid for 3/4 of the boat upgrades and operation and the majority of marina fees.

For our first month back home, however, I definitely felt like I was "living the life." Retired. Happier than being on the boat. My fears calmed down, I was warm and dry, and my days were calm and uneventful.

A leisurely day at the botanical gardens with Pettit (pictured) and Leslie

It's never a good idea to take "the good life" for granted, though, whether you're enjoying harmony at home, a fantasy vacation, or being "in the zone" during extreme sports. (Not that I personally am into extreme sports.)

Anything can happen. Your orderly, well-managed life can change in an instant.

On Wednesday, I took a bus to REI to pick up my bike after getting a tune-up. Rode home 11.6 miles, mostly along trails. I felt fine--until I entered the 14th Street Bridge, at which time my sense of peace and contentment started developing hairline cracks. Bike commuters whizzing out of DC came at me at top speed, on a narrow sidewalk bordered by 8-foot-high steel railings. There was barely room to pass--yet they didn't even slow down.

I held my breath each time black and yellow spandex flashed by. Felt vulnerable. Recalled my ill-fated bike ride in December.

As it turned out, I didn't get my skull split open against the steel rails on the 14th Street Bridge.

Around 9:30 pm, however, Pope staggered into the house, dazed and dripping blood. He had wrecked his car a couple of miles from home, trying to drive back from Chesapeake Bay after a sailboat race followed by eating and drinking. He probably fell asleep at the wheel.

The visible damage

An hour later, we were startled by screaming and banging in the street. Our local burglar had struck again, smashing car windows in front of our house. (We suspect drug addicts in search of anything that can be sold for cash. Maybe they are in cahoots with the perps who murdered a man in 7-11, a few doors away.)

The noise was from owners returning to their cars and unleashing their fury on the neighborhood. Not locals, I guess, or they would be inured to the violence of broken car windows and stolen bikes.

The point is, anything can happen to upset the apple cart and send the bruised and battered remnants of Riley's ideal life straight into the dumpster.

What's left after upsetting the apple cart

 

The second point is: Enjoy the good life while you can. Don't take it for granted. And be ready to adapt when you encounter "the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune." *

Today, Pope is patched up and is out scouting body shops. The first body shop, and our insurance company, want to write the car off as a total loss. Value: $0. We are discussing whether to buy a battered old pickup (reminds me of our battered old boat...) or just share my old but still-decent Honda.

So...are we "living the life"? Who is the wise guy who dreamed up that phrase, anyway?


----------------------------------------
* From Hamlet, Act III, Scene I:

To be, or not to be, that is the question—
Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?

Recipes From a Lightly Populated Planet

The planet I live on—cooking-wise—is a lonely one. My tastes are of the quirky sticks-and-twigs variety, my diet is further restricted by food allergies and sensitivities, and I live with someone of often-opposing food values. So how did Pope and I adjust on our Bahamas cruise, where we ate three meals a day together, and none of my favorite foods were available? Below are three of my frequently consumed recipes.
 

The principles I try to follow at home in preparing my daily bread include:

1. Vegetarian—non-violence to animals. (My domestic partner is a dedicated carnivore.)

2. Whole grains and organic, or at least close-to-the-source, ingredients for maximum nutritional value.
3. Leafy greens (the only scientifically proven nutritional cancer fighter).
4. Convenience. I don’t follow recipes.  Instead of correct ingredients for any given dish, I use whatever ingredients are available in the pantry and refrigerator.

Living on the boat in the Bahamas posed challenges way beyond meshing my eating style with Pope's.

The alcohol stove in the boat's tiny galley worked every time, oblivious to saltwater spray, and had two burners—just large enough for a pot of pasta and a pan of sauce. However, the secondary butane stove, which could be used outside, and the propane grill on the back rail  (photo) eventually rusted out, due to saltwater corrosion. Until then, they were a godsend for keeping Pope’s meat separate from my food and the greasy meat splatters out of the boat's cabin.

 

 

The local diet in the Bahama out-islands (beyond heavily touristed Nassau and Freeport) seemed to revolve around fried conch and fries. Whole grains and leafy greens were non-existent. Virtually nothing is home-grown; although a few households had chickens in the yard, their eggs were not for sale.

A minimal selection of canned and packaged foods are shipped from the U.S. and sold in tiny markets the size of the average American dining room (in photo below, note the fresh bread and small selection of canned goods).

 

An even more minimal selection of fresh produce arrived every week or two from Florida by mail boat, and was snapped up within an hour of being unloaded by the “highest bidders” (boat owners/frequent visitors who had established a relationship with the store owners). These would be kept in the market's refrigerator,at left in the photo above. Despite the fast turnaround for lettuce, tomatoes, and eggplant, however, we were almost always able to find onions and potatoes, limes and lemons, and often carrots.

 

Ice was available on many of the islands, so--when we found them for sale--we were able to keep butter, eggs and milk fresh for a couple of days in our cooler.

Waves and wakes rocking the boat can send hot liquids flying, so meals while underway tended to be crackers, cheese or peanut butter, and fruit.

The following frequently used recipes reflected logistical realities (i.e., what was widely available and convenient to cook). Despite the shortage of nutritionally high-value ingredients, my recipes must have contained sufficient vitamins, because I felt better and was less fatigued during the cruise than at home. Some of that may have been due to retiring and leaving home. But I like to think the fresh limes and local rum had something to do with it!

GRILL-UP  (a weekly standard until the grill died)

Miso – for flavor; brought from Miami; can also use just olive oil or butter

Tofu – vacuum-packed, brought from Miami (substituted sausage in Pope’s portion)
Onion, cut in chunks
Potato, cut in chunks
Carrots, cut in chunks
Other vegetables as available – eggplant, zucchini, cauliflower, broccoli, or kale – we found each of these once during the cruise
Salt, pepper, other seasonings
Pats of butter or dabs of olive oil for flavor to prevent vegetables from drying out

Wrap all ingredients tightly in heavy-duty foil, each serving wrapped separately to allow for individual tastes. Grill 20-30 minutes depending on temperature. Remove from grill when smell of cooked vegetables permeates the boat. This works nicely on any backyard grill! After the chopping, there's nothing to do.

BLACK BEANS & RICE   (at least once a week)

Cooked white rice (brown rice would have used too much cooking fuel)

Canned black beans (ditto; dried beans would have used too much fuel)
Seasonings (whatever spices are on board; I used cumin, turmeric, chili powder, and lime; Pope used tomato sauce, red chili flakes, and hot sauce)
Lots of onion
Red or green pepper if available; if not, perhaps canned corn or peas

Saute onion and pepper in olive oil until transparent; add rice and seasonings, then beans. Cook together, stirring constantly, just until heated.

DARK & STORMY (my daily cocktail-hour staple; recipe is from a previous sailing trip in Bermuda; all ingredients were readily available in the Bahamas)

Dark rum (Gosling’s Black Seal is best)

Ginger beer (non-alcoholic; Gosling’s or Barritt’s is best)
Dash of bitters
Juice of a lime

Pour each ingredient over ice, and watch the way the pretty colors layer themselves. Yum. Hint: not very good if ice is not available. I tried several of the rum punches in the local Bahamian bars, and, in my opinion, none of their recipes came close to my favorite dark 'n' stormy.

 

 

Bottoms up!