There will be more to come, including pictures, but we wanted to post this before we untie Midas Touch from the mooring ball in Sarasota Harbor and continue south, hoping for warmer temperatures. The adventures continue.
Mike's recollection:
St. Catherine’s Island - Carrabelle connection? Sometimes the phrase “It’s a small world” does seem to fit for some of the events that happen to us on the Loop; maybe “It’s a weird crazy world” would be more accurate. I know you have experienced these same types of small world events, but sometimes after this happens to me, I start thinking maybe there are multiple universes. In 2012 Marian and I took the Midas Touch from Richmond Hill south down the ICW to Darien to get her bottom painted. I vividly remember this trip because we followed Tropical Depression Beryl, which made for a very rough crossing of St. Catherine's sound.
Mike's recollection:
St. Catherine’s Island - Carrabelle connection? Sometimes the phrase “It’s a small world” does seem to fit for some of the events that happen to us on the Loop; maybe “It’s a weird crazy world” would be more accurate. I know you have experienced these same types of small world events, but sometimes after this happens to me, I start thinking maybe there are multiple universes. In 2012 Marian and I took the Midas Touch from Richmond Hill south down the ICW to Darien to get her bottom painted. I vividly remember this trip because we followed Tropical Depression Beryl, which made for a very rough crossing of St. Catherine's sound.
We made it into an anchorage before dark, but we had a hard
time getting the anchor to hold (Mike's first lesson on anchoring a 23 ton
boat). We finally hooked the bottom - or so we believed - and hit the sack. The next morning we discovered the
anchor had come loose as the tide rose during the night; we floated across Wahlburg
Creek and had grounded against the bank on an outgoing tide. This meant we were
going to be there for the next five hours, with the boat tilting to a 45-degree
angle. Luckily the St Catherine's Research center's dock was only 50 yards away. The staff that came to work from the
mainland stopped and invited us to wait for the tide to turn at the research
center. They were more than good to us, suggesting we add a stern anchor, offering
the use of bathrooms, letting us settle on a breezy porch with rocking chairs where
we could read, and later giving us a tour of the center. We saw ring-tailed lemurs up close and
met a pair of African hornbills. One of the people welcoming us to the research
center was a man named Tim
After the tide came in and our boat was again afloat, their
boat captain helped me pull the anchors and bring the boat back to the
dock. By then, it was late afternoon,
and he suggested we stay the night, tied up safely to their dock. Then they
offered us the use of showers in one of the staff houses, a beer, and some home
made pizza. They even offered to
put sheets on a bed in the house – tempting because it was air-conditioned, but
we decided to sleep on the boat. We were so thankful for the kindness that we
sent a gift of some fudge from Dahlonega’s Fudge Factory for the staff to
enjoy.
So what is the connection to being delayed here in
Carrabelle, FL? Keep in mind that it’s
340 miles from here to St. Catherine’s Island. Shortly after arriving in
Carrabelle, I took a walk to look over the town, and came to the Carrabelle
History Museum (http://www.carrabellehistorymuseum.org/)
I went in and met the director Tamara, a very nice person
who has a wealth of knowledge about Carrabelle and this area of Florida. Tamara’s legs are her electric scooter,
and when she told me about having trouble getting the city to take down the
museum’s Christmas lights, I told her I would take a look at them, and ended up
taking them down with little time or effort involved. Even so, Tamara was very thankful. We ended up going to dinner at The
Fisherman’s Wife (a must visit if you come to Carrabelle) with Tamara and her
husband Cal, and they offered to take us up to the Walmart in Crawfordville if
we needed a ride. A few day later
we were up “on the hard,” a term for
a boat being on land and on blocks at a boat yard for repairs. We heard a knock
on the side, and I opened our side door to find a man, who looked vaguely
familiar, standing down below. “I think I know you,” I said. “I met you on St.
Catherine’s Island when you were grounded,” he replied. “Tamara told us you were over here.” My
gosh, what a small world. Tim went
on, “The real reason I’m over here is to lend you our truck. I know you can use
one while you’re stuck here. We’re
heading back over to the research center on St. Catherine’s Island in a couple
of days, and we won’t be needing it.”
A constant theme of our Loop has been one random act of
kindness after another, from the dentist who would not accept payment for a tooth extraction to
fellow Loopers who walk Midas when we left him on the boat while we visited the
St. Louis Arch to the loan of a truck. We now have good friends in Carrabelle that we will always be
thinking about; we will be thinking about them, and wishing we could see them.
The Great Jump:
Sea Fever
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea
and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her
by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the
white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn
breaking,
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the
running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be
denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds
flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the
sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant
gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the
wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing
fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long
trick’s over.
After some hasty repairs to
a bow mishap at Dockside Marina, I said, “Richie, that’s good enough, we’ve got
a weather window we must make.” A
good weather window for a Gulf of Mexico crossing is something you must take or
be prepared to wait weeks for the next one. By 2:30 pm we had fired up the Lehman engine, pushed back
from the dock, and headed out the six miles to the end of Dog Island, our
jumping across spot. We had filed
a float plan with friends and family, but in retrospect it is best to find a fellow
Looper or boating buddy to be your main contact. They would call the US Coast
Guard if we didn’t show up at the appointed time in the designated spot on the
other side. For part of the Gulf
crossing, boaters are out of cell phone and VHF radio range. Luckily we had
Andy and Jamie on Raptor. We
reached them on the VHF radio about 20 miles from our destination, when we knew
we would arrive soon and land was again in sight.
When we reached Red Marker # 2 on the south end of
Dog Island at 4 pm, we were in the Gulf and on our way, following a heading 140
degrees. We slowly watched the
shore behind us become smaller and smaller until we had nothing but water as
far as we could see on all sides of the Midas Touch. The Midas Touch does not move fast – she is not supposed to,
but we were surprised to find her doing 7 knots (almost 9 mph) into a
wind. One thing I took care of
while we were at Dockside was to check our RPMs, and we found that our tachometer
was off. The tach was reading higher that the actual RPMs. This means we could
bump up the throttle a little more.
However, a trawler has an optimum hull speed; any more throttle than
that, and you are just burning more fuel.
As time went by we watched an already low sun sink into the water, of
course in the Western sky. No
sizzle, because a few clouds hid that, but an orange flame to black.
I must admit that watching the
sky grow darker and darker is a little bit of a lonely feeling, especially when
you know you must wait all night until dawn before the light comes back. With out an autopilot, I found it easer
to pick a star as a reference point, and glance at the compass heading, that is
until the star climbs up too high to see through the bikini top.
Sometime in the middle of the
night the tachometer quit on me, but I knew why immediately. “We need to kill
the engine, Marian, “ I said and down into the engine room I went to tighten up
on the alternator belt. The next
bit of anxiety comes when you restart the engine. What a beautiful sound it is when that Lehman fires up
again. On
through the night, and you know what, that day light did come back hours later.
Marian's Great Loop Forum post, published January 21st:
Our crossing was smooth and
beautiful - light wind, calm seas (waves were one foot or less most of
the way), and a star to steer by. Mike had set up our route on
the chartplotter and in Navionics, and once we cleared the markers
leaving East Pass, it was simply a matter of maintaining a heading.
Midas Touch is 29 years old and has no autopilot. We took turns at the
helm, although Mike did far more of the driving while Marian played
solitaire on the iPad and made coffee, and Midas, our Golden Retriever,
snoozed on his usual port side bench location, rousing occasionally to
stretch or turn around. He woke up long enough to share a snack of
cheese and crackers, then went back to sleep.
We had one
glitch, a loose alternator belt. When our RPM meter suddenly dropped to
zero, Mike knew exactly what to do. We cut the engine, Mike quickly
tightened the belt, and we were back underway. Monday morning was
overcast as we approached Dunedin, so we didn't have the sun in our eyes
as we traveled east-southeast toward Marker 1 and the north entrance to
St. Joseph's Sound, between Anclote Key and Three Rooker Bar. (The
great crew at the Wharf Marina in Orange Beach had printed out a
Marker1Marina brochure including a detailed chart with the route and
turns clearly marked. These excellent marinas are owned by the safe
company.)
Don, the dockmaster, was waiting for us when we
cleared the causeway bridge to Honeymoon Island, and after a pump out,
we tied up on the face dock, showered, and sacked out. (Midas was very
glad to go ashore for his own pump out.)
The crossing
took just over 20 hours, and we are all proud that we did it. We'll take
a day or so for boat cleaning and laundry, then start south toward
Marathon, with stops along the way. We're hoping to reconnect with
Looper friends and make new ones on this last phase of our Great Loop
adventure.
Marian's Great Loop Forum post, published January 21st:
The Dreaded Gulf Crossing - We Did It!
As
far as we know, we were the only Loopers in Carrabelle ready to cross
the Gulf on Monday. After two weeks at Dockside Marina getting a new
shaft log installed, we were eager to get back on the water. We said
good-bye to Byron, Cynthia and Toots (Bright Angel - also at Dockside
for hull repair). Robby and Brenda on Crazzy Nufff had use of a
vehicle and came over from C-Quarters to wish us well. FedEx delivered
our rental EPIRB about noon; Marian met the truck leaving as she
returned from IGA with lunch (it was spaghetti Monday, and we knew we
wouldn't do much cooking on the crossing). By 2:50, everything was
ready, including a last minute bow repair after the low tide dropped us
on the corner of a concrete dock, and the GREAT crew from Dockside
untied our lines and gave us a push. We were on our way. We knew
Monday would be our best weather window, although we didn't see Monday's
Forum before we left.
Sunset as we crossed the Gulf from Carrabelle to Dunedin
Midas at his post, ready for a long ride.
