A Marathon Sail

We’ve been spending the start of our new year by moving further south. After leaving the Tampa area, we spent a few nights at anchor along the ICW as we motored down to Fort Myers. Then, we picked up a mooring ball for two nights in Fort Myers waiting out a strong storm front and rain that came through. While in town doing laundry, another cruiser asked where we were from, and to our reply she said with excitement “Oh, you’re the kids!” It seems our reputation proceeded us as our friends and fellow cruisers, the Sittons, mentioned we would be coming through the area soon. For a little context, at the start of our adventure a handful of other cruisers we had gotten to know (and our diesel mechanic) started affectionately referring to us as “the kids,” a name that stuck. We like it and it certainly suits us as we have so much to learn from their experience and advice.

On Friday morning we dropped the mooring ball in Fort Myers and topped off our water and fuel before heading out into the Gulf. The wind was blowing in the opposite direction of what was forecast (blowing SE, forecast to be NW) dashing our hopes of a smooth downwind sail to Marathon. Combined with seas from the west, meaning they were perpendicular to the boat, made for a very rolly ride. Though uncomfortable, we were making good progress so we moved on past our backup stop of Marco Island to keep heading toward the Keys. The wind continued on the nose until about 7 p.m. then started to clock around to the west enough to raise the main sail. That helped speed but just after dinner we heard the dreaded “thunk” of a crab trap hitting the prop. Thankfully it didn’t get wrapped up in the shaft (which would have necessitated a dive trip into the water to cut it loose). With the darkness, it was impossible to see and avoid the crab traps so we decided to shut down the motor and raise the remaining sail. The wind filled from the west and much to our delight, Kaleo was gliding along at 6.5 knots under full sail (and only full sail). The peaceful quiet of water lapping past the hull and the whisper of wind through the rigging reminded us why we love sailing. It’s a beautiful feeling to be moving along in your house, powered completely by mother nature. About midnight, the sailing was still great but our speed would put us into the Moser Channel before light (a big no-no as you never want to enter a new channel in the dark). So we dropped the jib and sailed under just the main at about 3 knots to ensure a daylight arrival. With sunrise came wind on the nose, the motor came back on and we weaved our way under the Seven Mile Bridge and into the Atlantic Ocean.

About an hour later, Kaleo was securely anchored in Boot Key Harbor with gorgeous 70° weather under sunny skies. We promptly changed into swimsuits and fell asleep lounging in the sun on the foredeck. A few hours later we took the dingy in to check out the marina and take showers. The city marina, though utilitarian, fosters a great community of sailors and liveaboards. When checking into the marina we even received a welcome bag from the local cruisers’ net. Think of a “net” as an interactive morning radio show for every boater in the area who has a VHF radio and wants to join. We’re looking forward to listening in tomorrow. Coming back to Kaleo after dark, we were awe struck by just how many boats are in the harbor. There are rows and rows and ROWS of anchor lights lit up like a city on the water and our best guess is that we’re neighboring at least 300 other boats.

Tomorrow, our friends, Erica and Sean, are driving in from Fort Lauderdale to have lunch nearby and Monday we plan to do a few last minute errands. Then, it’s time to get serious about our crossing to the Bahamas. We’ll have our eye on the next weather window with plans to stage in Angelfish Creek (or somewhere nearby) for the crossing.

N 24° 42.16 / W 81° 06.23