By Sailor John
This is not a story of great adventure, romance, or even great cruising. It is simply a brief account of our botched attempts to enjoy a spring cruise in the beautiful blue waters of the Bahamas. Are there lessons to be learned, or in our case relearned? Never cruise in the wrong season. Never go with the crowd when it is against your better judgement. Never try to keep to a schedule. Expect things to go wrong. Enjoy the moment and don't worry about doing all that you planned. Make sure you have a towing contract (I use SeaTow for $95.00 a year and it is worth every penny.)
Cruising with a group can be fun but it can also have its problems. My wife and I had been looking forward to taking a spring cruise to the Abacos. We had been to Bimini, the Berry Islands, and the Exumas, but we had heard that the Abacos offered a colorful cruising area. We wanted to go in May and June which are the best months for good weather, but several friends were planning a cruise south leaving the end of March. We felt obligated to go with them and it would be fun to travel with a group, raft up together, go out to dinner, etc. The plan was for five sailboats to travel together from the Daytona area to West Palm Beach and then each boat would go its own way. Some Friends wanted to cross over to Bimini for a few days before returning to Daytona and wanted us to accompany them. We decided that they would leave their smaller boat in Lake Worth and sail on to Bimini aboard our 36 foot Gulfstar "Misty". I knew that we were nuts to sail to the Bahamas in March which is the worst month of the year for weather, but it seemed as if people were counting on me. By the time we made the crossing it would be early April, so we decided to try, but only if the weather looked good. My wife and I were secretly disappointed because we were abandoning our earlier plan to cruise to the Abacos in May.
I have always enjoyed ocean sailing when the weather is good. Motoring down the ICW is not what I think of as a fun day, although some aspects of it can be enjoyable. The late March weather was a little windy and the group wanted no part of sailing outside, so we cranked up the iron genny and headed south from draw bridge to draw bridge, always into a head wind. We actually had a great time. We stopped at nice places and socialized every evening. At one point I remember peeking under the sail cover and wondering what those white things were for and if we would ever get to use them.
After a couple of nights in Lake Worth we went our separate ways. Our friends moved onto "Misty" and we headed out. The southeast wind was kicking up a little and the crew was nervous about the ocean, but I convinced them that we should stick our nose out of the inlet and see what the conditions were. Once we got out, there was no turning back. We had an exhilarating sail with reefed main and genny beating into six foot seas and made it into Ft. Lauderdale in the late afternoon. As we got close to Ft. Lauderdale, someone was playing rock music on VHF channel 16, welcome to south Florida. That was all you could hear, so we eventually turned the radio off. As it turns out, there was probably some important information broadcast that we missed. At dinner that evening, we heard something about the Seventeenth Streetbridge closing the next day, but were unconcerned since we could pass under it without it being opened.
The weather forecast was favorable for an overnight crossing to Bimini and I planned to get an early start. A front was on its way, but was not forecast to arrive until the next night. I knew that if we did not go this night, we would not be able to go because of time constraints. We headed south to the Seventeenth Street bridge at 7 AM. A Coast Guard boat met us and told us that the bridge had closed at 6 AM and would be closed for three days. Not just the draw bridge, the ICW was closed down for three days while they tore out the remains of the old draw bridge. The only way we could go was north.
So we motored north picking our way through the opulence of Fort Lauderdale and Boca Raton, draw bridge by draw bridge. We were all disappointed but agreed that, with the front approaching, we would not have time to make the crossing to Bimini. We all agreed to think about an Abacos trip in May.
As we made plans for the May trip, I made sure that everyone knew that this would be a sailing trip, not a motor down the ICW. The plan was to sail down the coast to Lake Worth, cross over to West End, hop down the Abacos sound for several days to Marsh Harbor and to Little Harbor. We would then continue south around the Hole-in-the-Wall to the Berry Islands, across the bank to Bimini, and then the long sail home. Of course we would make decisions one day at a time and only do what weather permitted. So much for plans.
We filled "Misty" with enough supplies for ten people and headed out of Ponce de Leon Inlet late on a beautiful May morning. The sea breeze soon filled in from the south east and we began on a long tack down the beach toward Cape Canaveral. About 9:00 PM, after several tacks back out to sea, we were nearing the NASA launch facilities. The Coast Guard began announcing an Atlas launch that was scheduled for about 10:00 PM. The transmission was a little garbled, but I finally understood that the boosters would fall somewhere along a line east of the Cape Canaveral light and that there was a danger zone five miles north and south of the line. I plotted the area on my chart and we were still well to the north. Right on schedule, the launch facility lit up like the sun. The rocket appeared to be headed directly over us. As it climbed, it became obvious that it was well to south, but I will have to admit that for a few minutes, I was doubtful about exactly where the danger zone was. It was a brilliant crown on a beautiful night.
By the next afternoon we had made it around the Cape and were approaching Fort Pierce. We were all tired, had enjoyed a great sail and were deserving of a good nights sleep, so I broke my own rule, cranked up the diesel, and motor sailed into the municipal marina. As we approached the inlet, I noticed a new groaning sound. Although I didn't want to admit it, I suspected what it was.
In Fort Pierce, I held up the festivities while I crawled around under the cockpit checking out the engine. The transmission had the proper fluid level, but the fluid was somewhat cloudy. I cranked the engine and put it in gear. Things seemed to work OK. I found a hose between the engine and the hot water heater that was chafed almost through and spent an hour bypassing it. Better not to have hot water than to lose the antifreeze and overheat the engine. The next morning, we motored out of the inlet without a problem. I knew better, but I was hoping that things would be OK. We sailed on a great southeast sea breeze all day and were approaching the St. Lucie River. "Misty" was getting too close to the beach and we needed to tack. I decided to crank the engine just long enough to tack several miles out to sea keeping a somewhat southerly course. We tacked and were making five knots with a reasonable heading. I cranked the engine. We were still only making five knots with the same heading. After spending about thirty minutes under the cockpit checking linkages, etc., the conclusion was inevitable. We had lost forward gear in the transmission. We had to abort the crossing again.
What were our options. Sail back to Fort Pierce and get towed in to a boat yard. Sail back to Port Canaveral. I checked the weather forecast. The weather would remain good for the next two days at least. Having a transmission rebuilt was probably a two week job. I would much rather be back in my home slip. Why not? We headed back north, engineless. It was a beautiful sail. The wind began in the southeast, clocked around to the southwest, then to the west and northwest. Thirty hours later we were running wing on wing with a southeast sea breeze to the sea buoy at Ponce Inlet. SeaTow picked us up at the sea buoy, towed us in and tucked us into our slip. We were all disappointed that we had not made the crossing to the Abacos, but we had enjoyed four days of great sailing and were glad to be home safely, all agreeing to try again next spring.
So we had no adventure or romance. The waters of the Atlantic coast were not quite as blue as the waters in the Bahamas. We didn't visit any quaint villages nor did we eat any cracked conch. Jimmy Buffet wasn't playing under a palm thatched shelter and Margaritaville remained an elusive dream. We did have a few glorious days of sailing and that is more than most people get to enjoy. That's worth writing about.