Leaving our little furry friend to watch over the boat, we packed a bag and headed off to the Greyhound station in Mobile for a two hour ride into New Orleans. The station was, for the lack of a better word, “eclectic.” In any event, we grabbed seats in the first row and decided to keep to ourselves. We haven’t been on public transportation in months or traveled over 10 mph in weeks so it was a very enlightening experience.
Arriving at the bus station in Louisiana, we jumped in an Uber and headed off to the Big Easy. Dropping our bag at the hotel, we busted out onto the streets of the French Quarter. The warm feeling of the Christmas season was oozing from all the establishments as the lights twinkled, drinks flowed and the music played. It was definitely the downtime we needed to recharge our batteries as we soaked in all the sights in between the delectable beignets at Cafe Du Monde, Hurricanes at Pat O’Brien’s and as many charbroiled oysters that we could get our hands on….which were especially delicious at the Royal House. That night we crashed hard sinking into the king size bed after a long hot shower…the Hilton never felt so luxurious. After pounding the pavement for a few hours the next day, catching some time to have a drink at the Carousel Bar in Hotel Montelone after hitting the Farmer’s Market in Jackson Square, we grabbed Po-boys at Erin Rose for tomorrow’s lunch and hightailed it over to Superior Seafood to indulge ourselves further for a fabulous dinner. After a whirlwind of a day, we hopped on the bus back to Mobile to get the boat ready for the next leg of the journey across the Florida Panhandle.
After getting the boat sufficiently provisioned for the next few days, we headed over to the Grand Mariner for a Looper gathering. There were 12 boats in attendance and it was a pleasure to met new boaters as well as catch up with BackAtcha and Salty Dog. Along with ourselves, many boats would be crossing Mobile Bay in the morning as the weather forecast was stellar with low winds and calm waters.
Not sure if it was the salt water from the Gulf or that we were further south, but sunrise was especially bright that day as it rose over the shrimp boats in the harbor and we untied from the dock.
After crossing Mobile Bay with ease, it was smooth boating to Lulu’s which was our lunch destination with Salty Dog and Nex T’ See. Lulu was the sister of Jimmy Buffet and we were told that her restaurant was a most stop on the way to Florida. We had our first dolphin sighting along the way, but in my opinion, since we travel slower than a turtle, she was soon bored and quickly on her way. After a nice lunch on the patio enjoying the warm sunshine, we were hoping we had finally caught up to the weather we had been waiting for.
Ingram Bayou was a beautiful secluded anchorage where we decided to settle in for the night that evening. As we idled into the far corner of the cove we caught a glimpse of two sailboats who just happened to be friends we have not seen since Michigan. Hopping into our dinghy we motored over to reacquaint ourselves with Maggie and Chuck on Timbuctoo and Joe on Breeze who had many stories to tell about their travels since we last parted. The moon was high in the sky when we decided to get back to the boat after one, or three, glasses of wine and prepare for the travel day ahead. We weren’t traveling too far as we had reservations at Orange Beach Marina a few miles away from the anchorage.
The Orange Beach area just screamed money as we passed home after home of beachfront property and private docks. From our recent experience, this was definitely a far cry from the modest homes on the rivers. The marina had covered docks and, after backing into our slip, we hooked up the power to charge the batteries and then checked in at the marina office. The grounds were meticulously maintained and pelicans adorned most of the pilings. This was most certainly a cruiser’s paradise.
Lisa from BackAtcha suggested going to Cosmos’s for dinner so we climbed into two rental cars with her, Chris, Patti (Alcyone), Tom (Dancing Bears), Ed and Kathy (Vitamin Sea). The food was great and we all chatted about our plans going forward. Besides Tom and ourselves, who were moving on in the morning, everyone else was staying in Orange Beach through the holidays.
And just like that, at 8:01 the following morning, we were in Florida. Duane said he felt the atmosphere definitely change as we crossed the border, but I think it was just us getting anxious for the inevitable and dreaded crossing of the Gulf of Mexico. I had been trying to get excited for the open water trip through shark infested waters, but, at this moment, I was very uneasy about that upcoming leg of the adventure. So much of the trip depended on good weather, cooperative winds and calm seas. At this point we were almost certain we were going to take three days and travel the rim route as opposed to an overnight crossing into Tarpon Springs— a 170 mile trip which, at our speed, would take about 22 hours.
We anchored out with Dancing Bears the next four nights slowly making our way to Carabelle where we would stage waiting for a good weather window for the crossing.
It was a gorgeous 70 degree day and our first stop was Navarre Beach located between Destin and Pensacola on Florida’s Emerald Coast. A quaint anchorage, we took the dinghy ashore with Tom to enjoy tuna tacos and drinks at Juana’s Sailors Grille. There was a live band and we were lulled to sleep by the tunes of Jimmy Buffet echoing from the beach.
We were on the move again by 6:30 in the morning and made a pit stop by the Fort Walton city docks to perform a much needed pump-out of the holding tank. Protective gloves and safety googles in place, the Captain took charge of the dirty task at hand as I stood well away from any potential mishaps. It was a little choppy under the Bay Bridge in the Choctawhatchee Bay where we dropped anchor later that afternoon. Sitting on Santa Rosa Beach outside the Bay Restaurant that evening, we relaxed while having a few rum cocktails watching the boat bounce in the current. A rough sleep for sure, we happily moved on once the sun rose.
Passing through 28 miles of a narrow channel dubbed the Grand Canyon, we anchored in the beautifully serene Pearl Bayou in Bay County on the third night after leaving Orange Beach. Tom invited us aboard Dancing Bears for dinner and to meet his friend, Riley, who had flown in to accompany him and his dog, Ripple, on the Gulf crossing. After a very pleasant evening, we boarded Baby Belle back to Bella Donna and were no sooner asleep when a torrential downpour descended upon us. The thirty cent fix was proving its worth keeping us dry and the boat was getting a much needed wash down so we didn’t mind the racket playing out above our heads all that much. And the wine may have helped just a little.
Moving further east the next morning toward Cypress Swamp, we entered the Eastern Time Zone for the first time since we had arrived in Michigan City on October 9th and thus lost an hour of daylight travel time. We dropped anchor outside the city of Apalachicola. Fishing boats and fresh seafood shacks lined the waterfront so we went ashore to purchase some fresh catch and browse through the shops. While Duane was mulling over purchasing some Mahi-mahi, I treated myself to a nautical necklace at the local shop. We all have our priorities!
Our reserved slip at the Moorings of Carabelle was a 4 hour trip the next day as we received a positive push on the St. George Sound. After filling our near empty tank with gas once we arrived, we parked ourselves right next to Salty Dog. Greg and Pam are the friendly faces we have looked forward to seeing at many stops along our journey and it was nice to catch up over drinks that evening. It was now December 10th and there hadn’t been a good weather window to cross the Gulf since Shoreline Traveller and Adagio left with a group on the 5th. All we could do now is watch the weather and be patient…which was a hard concept with Christmas approaching.
Over the next four days the number of boats waiting to cross had significantly increased. Each day we chatted with other boaters and enjoyed what the local town had to offer. The marina cooked a hot breakfast each morning for all the transient boaters so we were able to bounce ideas off each other in regard to prospective weather windows and routes across to the West Coast. Over the course of our stay, we also learned there was a resident bear who lived in the IGA parking lot, The Fisherman’s Wife served the tastiest fish baskets and the all-you-can-eat crab leg special at Fathom’s Oyster Bar and Grill was the highlight of my stay. In addition to the great food, Fathom’s had a local band which entertained the crowd each night —the lead singer and guitar player was the marina diesel mechanic and also owner of the bar. Even the laundromat, which I was skeptical about at first sight, was a pleasant rustic experience.
After a few nights of good food and entertainment, there was an overwhelming consensus that our opportunity to move on across the Gulf was materializing. I was getting so antsy, I even let Duane cut my hair as I felt it was getting very unruly the last month down the rivers and across the Panhandle. He was more than happy to oblige which made me nervous and take offense at the same time.
On the 13th, Duane decided to see if all the other boaters wanted to get together to go over ideas and weather reports in the lounge. In all, twelve boats gathered and we discussed everything from boating safety, wind conditions over the next few days, possible routes and various forecast predictions. We put together a list of boats and tried to pair vessels up based on speed and we all planned to met at 1pm the next day as late that afternoon seemed promising with the current information we had.
That night the Captain sat me down and pleaded his case to sway me into the overnight crossing. I knew Christmas was ten days away and we needed three good weather windows, not just one, to boat along the rim route, but I was still nervous. The overnight trip was something I had been adamant against doing since the beginning as it would be the longest and furthest distance we had ever gone— traveling all through the night on one engine. In the end, he won me over and I trusted his judgement. Tomorrow is most likely going to be the big day! Fingers and toes crossed all goes well.