Month: June 2020

We had a lazy morning our last day in Stuart as I squeezed one more relaxing shower in the schedule before filling the water tanks. Deciding to leave after lunch we enjoyed the fresh air on the dock while dining on our scrumptious taco and conch leftovers. And just like that, we were off again after being treated to another pleasant visit to Stuart-The Sailfish Capital of the World on Florida’s Treasure Coast.

Leaving St. Lucie County we were soon on the Indian River and off to explore virgin territory as we had not traveled this far North on the boat. Sadly, this accomplishment also put us on the homestretch closing in on the end of our epic adventure. We plan to travel slowly as there is so much on the East Coast we are so looking forward to experiencing.

Dolphins greeted us playfully jumping over each other as we turned into Fort Pierce and dropped anchor in Faber Cove. Timbuctoo was anchored in the area and we had made plans to catch up tomorrow. Our current plans were to sit back and enjoy a nice quiet evening while trying to avoid the dreaded no-see-ums. The next morning we dropped Baby Belle into the water and took a two mile dinghy ride to the dock at the Fort Pierce marina. Duane had rigged her up with a pair of fins he scored at the consignment store which gave us an extra 1 mph push. Anything helps 😃

Sitting on the deck overlooking the water we had a nice lunch at Cobb’s Landing before heading to the Sailfish Brewing Company. The brewery was open for outside service so we sampled the local craft brews and purchased our favorites to enjoy later on. Walking back to the dinghy dock we happened to pass by a couple setting up band equipment. Inquiring about the event, we were told the boat owner (who was actually napping inside) hired them to play that evening. I have been craving live music the last few months so our timing was perfect. We pulled up some chairs, popped open the Sailfish brews and were treated to a entertaining intimate concert on the water compliments of The Leafy Green Band. As the sun began to set, we reluctantly had to leave, and walked back to Baby Belle as Cheeseburger in Paradise played in the distance. A song so fitting for the many memories we’ve made on the trip. Stopping by to see Chuck and Maggie we hung out until the lightning started and then hightailed it home to hunker down before the skies opened up. That night we were both startled awake by a huge bang and ran outside to see if something had drifted into us. Relieved that we were intact, Duane chalked it up to a suicidal fish ramming the hull. We eased back into bed only to discover in the morning that our solar shower strap had snapped sending the 5 gallon bag of water plummeting from the fly bridge to the deck below creating the late night disturbance. Retrieving the hand pump, I dejectedly worked on emptying the water from the bilge as every drop had managed to seep inside.

The sunrise was spectacular that morning illuminating the whole cove. The rain held off until mid-day just as Columba arrived. After setting their anchor, there was a lull in the storm, so they made their way over to the boat for Happy Hour docktails.

Meeting Chuck and Maggie onshore early the next afternoon, we had an enjoyable lunch back at Cobb’s Landing as it was one of the only waterfront restaurants open at the moment. Heading over to Sailfish Brewery, a thunderstorm blew in, so we most certainly had to have a few rounds waiting for the rain to subside. Loading up on a few choice brews, we all went back to the dock during a break in the rain. Deciding to motor on the next morning, we checked in with Harold and Deb and coordinated a departure time of 9am.

It took thirty minutes the next morning to clean all the clay and black mud off the anchor and then off we went. Waving farewell to Timbuctoo, we followed Columba to Vero Beach not far up the waterway and grabbed a mooring ball in the harbor. Once we were settled, the four of us went to shore and hopped on the free bus headed to Publix and West Marine. Our mission at hand was to purchase food for a barbecue that evening and boat cleaner for the deck of Bella Donna. It was a successful outing and the smell of the barbecue wafting across the water ended a very pleasant day. The next day was hot and humid and there was little to no relief out on the mooring field. Deb and I took the dinghy ashore to do laundry and shower while the boys worked on the boats. After all our chores were finished, we regrouped and headed to the beach. The streets leading us to the water were lined with magnificent moss covered trees creating a canopy overhead. Vero Beach was packed with surfers and people soaking up the sun. It wasn’t yet Memorial Day, but the beach scene was in full swing. Trying to cool off in the shade, we sat under an umbrella on the deck of Mulligan’s Beach Bar with some cold drinks and nachos while social distancing with the other patrons. On the dinghy ride back to the boat, a pod of dolphins surfaced and we followed them for almost an hour watching them frolic around. Another thunderstorm sprung up that night, but unfortunately the no-see-ums were out in full force when the weather calmed and the winds died down. It looks like bug spray is definitely going to be my new best friend in the coming weeks. Before we left the next morning, we went over to Columba for a nice breakfast spread of bacon and eggs. I supplied the bacon and Deb cooked up the eggs and we combined our supplies to make a very nice meal to start off the travel day.

Following each other along the ICW, Sebastian Island was our next destination. To our dismay, the water was too shallow for Columba’s draft and they continued on to Melbourne. We dropped anchor off the channel and took Baby Belle on a bumpy ride to shore tying up at Finn’s Marina. After a quick stop at Walmart for some essentials (namely cookies for the Captain and the ice cream he has been longing for), we slid into a booth at Captain Harim’s Beach Bar to listen to the one man band belt out happy summer tunes. The crowd, most of whom had not been out in months, seemed ready to rise to the occasion cheering him on and dancing around the makeshift sand dance floor. When we were ready to call it a night, the water had calmed down significantly and we had a pleasant ride back to the boat. When the wind died, not only did the waters calm, but the temperature kicked up and the interior of the boat was like a sauna so I slept snuggled up with my fan all night long.

Arriving in Melbourne the next morning, we made the unanimous decision to grab a slip at the marina to ease our heat suffering souls. Immediately hooking up to the electric, we cranked up the air conditioner to make our living space bearable. Harold and Deb met us on land and we headed over to the Cuban Restaurant for lunch. Only open for outside dining, we sat on the patio, which was eclectically decorated with aviation paraphernalia, noshing on empanadas. Walking back through downtown Melbourne, Duane almost twisted an ankle when he saw an old school Schwinn for sale on the sidewalk and rushed to inspect the bike further. Deeming this a necessity as my bike was rusting away and slowly breaking down from the relentless salt water beating down on it, he purchased my “gift.” Heading over to Hell n’ Blaze Brewery for beer flights and big pretzels, he and Harold discussed all the new possibilities a bike which actually switched gears would open up for me. After listening to the riveting conversation, my only stipulation was that my old bike, which had been by my side through three countries, find a place in Melbourne. The next morning as I power washed the outside space and scrubbed the rust stains off the deck (a small plug…Barkeeper’s Friend is phenomenal!), Duane rinsed the bike down, oiled her up and gave her to a homeless man a few blocks away who was elated to have a new mode of transportation. Ohhhh and I only got a roll of the eyes for using a mild acid, but acid nonetheless, as deck cleaner. 10 months ago the Magic Eraser and I got the silent treatment for a day for a much smaller infraction….this trip has definitely mellowed some reactions…or over reactions 😁I do use the word SOME very loosely.

Later that day we had a quiet ride to Cocoa Beach and anchored close to shore right after the Causeway bridge. Duane’s friend Rob and his wife Rhonda were anchored close by and took their dinghy over to say Hello, see our boat and brought us back over to see their sailboat, Siesta, and have some cocktails. The weather the next day was terrible so we were unable to head over to the village on the opposite side of the ICW and instead went ashore to get some groceries. Just our luck, as we were checking out, a torrential downpour started. Quickly making our way over to Firehouse Subs in the same shopping complex, we ordered sandwiches and waited out the worst of the storm. Or so we thought….half way back to the dinghy dock, loaded down with the buy one get one free Bud Light Platinum 12 packs, the skies open up and had no mercy on us as we trudged through the streets. There were 6 inches of water in the dinghy when we arrived back at the docks and we sat in the pool heading back to the boat. Once the beer was safely in the fridge, I worked on bailing her out to prepare for our travels the next day. Rob and Rhonda had left a few hours prior and we planned to meet in Titusville for the historic SpaceX Launch in a few days along with Harold and Deb and friends they have been traveling with, Tanner and Mindy. I could see the anticipation in Duane’s eyes every time the subject of the launch came up and was so glad timing had worked in our favor for once.

Our travel days on the return trip from the Bahamas were as calm as we could have ever dreamed of. The day we left Bimini was no exception. The moonlight guided us out of the harbor and we turned toward the US with relatively no wind against us and small swells gently pushing us for the next few hours. The Gulf Stream was working with us on this crossing and blessed us with a favorable push across the border. The royal blue waters rippled under the bow as the sun was soon flickering off the crest of the swells like disco lights. I threw out the fishing line in a last attempt to haul in a big catch to close out our big sea adventure, but other than some nibbles, I had no luck.

After a super serene day on the water, we turned into the Port Everglades inlet around 1pm and were met head on with mass mayhem. Boats were zipping around haphazardly with little regard for those around them. We were getting rocked from every direction like we were battling the perfect storm. Even the idea of a “slow pass” was out of the question to these inconsiderate “Captains”-I use that word loosely. It had been weeks since I had to straighten up the cabin after a travel day, but the last 15 minutes of the trip tossed everything mercilessly around. Good thing the Captain’s socks have been safely hidden away. We looked at each other dejectedly wishing we could just turn around and retreat back to our island paradise.

We found it strange and unnerving that people were partying with no restrictions. We did not know what to exactly expect arriving back to the States during the pandemic, but this was definitely not the scene we envisioned. We arrived in Lake Sylvia and made two passes through the anchorage before we were able to situate Bella Donna in a favorable spot for the evening. Right now we were longing for our secluded anchorages overlooking white sand beaches listening to the roosters, not being rocked by jet skis and overwhelmed by techno music. The lake was surrounded by million dollar estates doing their best to one up each other as the music blared and revelers partied into the night. Jet skiers weaved their way between the buoys precariously close to those anchored toward the edge. It was sort of a culture shock for us.

The next day there was a torrential downpour. Grabbing our rain jackets which have not made an appearance in weeks, we went ashore to get some supplies. Ice Cream was at the top of Duane’s list as I was in search of a new toilet seat. The salt water and the wooden seat we set out with did not end up getting along very well. And we both agreed take-out from the Mexican restaurant was a perfect way to welcome ourselves home. It was surreal to walk through the streets and stores viewing the world behind a mask.

The rain continued most of the next day so I sautéed the remaining fresh conch we had procured with our friends in Bimini to cheer us up and bring back some very FINE memories. Duane went ashore to Kelly’s Corner to pick up some steamers and mussels and we indulged in our seafood feast and some red wine. We were reluctantly easing back into the more hectic boating life I had almost forgotten about.

Moving on the next day toward the Clematis dock in West Palm Beach, the sun had finally emerged. It was a slow moving day as we traveled along “bridge row” as I called this stretch trying to time the opening of each bridge we were too tall to pass under. There were about twenty bridges along the way and Bella Donna was not able to squeeze under seven of them. The Captain did an excellent job of speeding up when need be as to avoid idling thirty minutes in the channel for the next opening. It was also another trying day dealing with boat wakes, jet skiers and mega yachts as we were cut off left and right with not so much as a wave of acknowledgement. Tying up to the dock a little before 5pm, Duane popped open some sparkling Rose to continue the birthday month celebrations. After walking to the brewery, we were disappointed to learn they had re-closed the establishment as a result of Covid concerns while “rethinking their plan to reopen in a pandemic world” and settled on take-out from Papa John’s.

Moving on to The Stuart Corinthian Yacht Club the next morning, we had a brief glimpse of crystal blue waters that reminded us of the Bahamas while passing the Jupiter Inlet around the lighthouse. And just like that the image was gone….the water darkened, the banks were lined with cargo ships and the channel narrowed significantly making us slightly claustrophobic. I was so excited once we were tied up at the dock that I could hardly contain myself when the last line was secured. We hadn’t set foot in a marina since we had arrived in Bimini after that traumatic night in January. Now three and a half months later, I practically sprinted up the hill to enjoy the longest and hottest shower I had been able to enjoy in forever. Back on the boat, Duane turned on the air conditioner to get rid of the dampness that had engulfed every inch of our living space the last few months. We hooked up to the water connection and scrubbed our prized possession from bow to stern. Our no frills beach bungalow which had taken us safely around the Bahamas had now been transformed into a five star penthouse suite smelling particularly fresh.

Later that evening, we took Baby Belle across the bay to have drinks and appetizers at the Twisted Tuna. The outdoor area had just recently fully opened as well as the inside dining room being opened at 25% capacity. We hadn’t been at a bar or restaurant in two months and relished the idea of some normalcy returning to our lives. Then…we both cringed when the bartender manhandled the orange slice before dropping it in Duane’s beer with a splash. We chuckled as that was something I would never have even noticed in a pre-Covid world. Definitely a new normal.

Bob and Stephanie had already driven home to Connecticut by the time we arrived in town so we walked over to their house to pick up some packages Duane had shipped there while we were in the Bahamas and I dropped off a conch shell I managed to salvage from our excursion. Duane’s friend Chris and his wife, Maily, lived in the area and Chris was nice enough to pick me up to take me to the laundromat. Other than my manual washing machine, I had not properly washed clothes in two months so I pretty much filled the back of his truck with bags of salty crusty clothes, towels and sheets. As I threw load after load in the machines, I had flashbacks of the cool sea breeze blowing through the Bahamian laundromat overlooking the turquoise waters. Emerging onto the hot asphalt of the Publix parking lot to honking car horns, this scenario was far from the same. Duane was also going through Bahamian withdrawals as he became severely upset when he noticed the underwater lights only lit up a foot or so behind the boat now. In the Bahamas, we could see over 40 feet around us with the occasional Saul swimming through the glow.

The rain had returned in the morning so I decided to take advantage of the cool cabin temperatures and clean the inside of the boat as well as cook some travel meals while the Captain took off to the consignment store. It is better he tackle these adventures alone as to not feel rushed when scouring every inch of the shelves for “boat treasures.” Ordering dinner from the Yacht Club the prior day, the food was soon delivered to our door. We had a delectable meal of fish tacos and beef sliders with French fries….another staple I hadn’t realized we had been missing for so long. I know it will take time, but right now I’d give up french fries for one more Bahamian sunset. Not a possibility, I indulged myself in the crispy deliciousness as I caught a glimpse of the orange ski through the trees.