CHAPTER SEVENTY THREE: CRUISING FATIGUE AND COOL THINGS THAT KEEP US GOING

CHAPTER SEVENTY THREE: CRUISING FATIGUE AND COOL THINGS THAT KEEP US GOING

Life is a blur of sounds, inlets, rivers, channels and marinas right now. We’re hustling up the Atlantic Coast in order to get to Solomons, Maryland in time for our flight to California June 6. And we’re trying our best to avoid high winds and thunderstorms, while traveling 70 plus miles a day. When we were newbies at this cruising gig, we thought 50 miles per day was our maximum – ever! Then we went 100 miles in the fog on the Gulf of Mexico on our way from Marco Island to Marathon, and now 70 days on a clear day seems reasonable. That is, unless you string seven seventy mile days together in one single week, without a break for the Admiral’s shoulders to un-tense and without a break to catch up on everyday stuff, write a Blog or “veg”. I can tell you that when we reached Titusville, Mile Marker, 878, yesterday, we were ready to stop for a day. There is not just the Lab and Laundry imperative, but there is such a thing as cruising fatigue, and we were on the edge of it on Sunday. Keep in mind that we had just left our paradise in Key Largo last Thursday, April 25. Yes, by Sunday, April 28, we needed time off the waterway.

I know, I know. As you sit in your cubicle at work and go about your 60 hour week at the office, you don’t have much sympathy for two gallivanters off to see the world (the eastern shore of America, at least) with no time restraints and few responsibilities. But consider this. We carry, or I should say, the Admiral carries the weight of Slow Motion, a 19 ton motor vessel, on his shoulders every day. And I worry about the Admiral carrying that much weight. There are a LOT of crazy boaters out there, and we run into a few of them every day we are on the waterway. No, it’s not quite LA freeway stress, but it’s definitely stress, the kind where you just don’t think you can take one more knucklehead roaring past you leaving a big wake that rocks Slow Motion and you to the core. Who knew that you could pilot a very large boat and not know, or care about, the rules of the waterway – or especially common courtesy? Of course, there are the nutsy jet skiers and powerful fishing boats tearing around, but at this time of year, there are a lot of boat delivery captains flying up the waterway in yachts to get them to some northern port for the owners – and these delivery captains are either mean SOBs, or, well, I guess they’re just mean SOBs. And very rude. When there is a boat in front of you, that boat has the right of way, and if you would like to pass that boat, you should get on your radio, announce who you are, where you are, and that you would like to pass and which side, then the boat in front with the right of way says that it’s okay to pass (or not), and you thank the boater and promise to make a “slow pass” to avoid engulfing the boat in front in a huge wake. The boat in front slows down so you can get past more quickly, even though you have slowed down. And the pass is made in a civilized manner. The faster boat can speed up as soon as it gets in front of the slower boat, and the slower boat, following behind in the center of the wake, does not get flooded after the pass either. It’s that simple. But you would be surprised how many of these delivery captains don’t even announce their presence on the radio before passing, and how many actually ignore your entreaties on the radio to please, please slow down when they’re passing.

Where is law enforcement, when the delivery captains are ignoring the rules and wreaking havoc on the waterway? We see police boats just about every day on the waterway. Usually they are going faster than any other boat, as if they are heading to a twenty boat pile up. The other day we saw a police boat turn on its lights and run down a very fast little speed boat to ticket the pilot. But I’m told that the police will indeed go after the little speeders, but they don’t touch the big speeding yachts. How’s that for selective law enforcement? What’s sad is that there are a lot of creatures living in the waterway for whom the “No Wake” signs are placed. In ignoring the “No Wake” signs, the speeding yacht delivery captains are not only deluging sail boats and slow power boats alike, but they are also threatening the lives of dolphins and manatees. Especially the manatees, who flock to boats, only to be sliced by the propellers of the fast moving ones, who could care less about leaving a little carnage behind in their wake. There are a lot of manatees swimming around the Titusville City Marina, where we are docked today, and one of them has a number of propeller scars etched in his/her hide. As our friend, Brenda, said, upon seeing a photo of the scarred manatee, “Ouch!”.

Now on to some good things. The folks who helped us tie up at the marinas in North Miami (Bill Bird Marina) and North Palm Beach (Old Port Cove) were just great. So here is a shout out to Vinnie and Sean for their excellence in line tying and stress relief. Vinnie helped us get into that teeny, tiny slip at Bill Bird. We thought that was the tiniest slip we would ever fit into, until we arrived at Titusville yesterday (April 28). We had planned to tie up on the T-head, and we were in the process of doing that, but the wind was blowing every which way, and the dock assistant suggested we would have an easier time of it if we went into a slip. The Admiral made the command decision to go for the slip, against his better judgment. And as we headed around the T head in search of the slip, No. 61, both of us mouthed the words “You’ve got to be kidding”, when we saw it. There was no way Slow Motion was getting into 61, bow first, stern first, or sideways. Fortunately, Slip 60 looked a little better, because there was no boat tied up in the slip right next to it. Always ready to accept a new challenge, the Admiral turned Slow Motion around to enter the slip stern first. Two dockhands were waiting to see if this could actually be done without hitting the pilings and the finger pier. And guess what? The Admiral backed Slow Motion smoothly into the narrow slip. Never mind that all our lines were on the portside, and we had to tie up on the starboard side. The dock hand waited as I prepared the lines for him. And then he even helped put the fenders in place to protect Slow Mo from the pilings. All in all, the Titusville Team did right by us, and for that we are grateful.

This morning I celebrated a day off the waterway by staying in bed until 7 a.m. The days we have been cruising, we get up by 6 a.m. and are underway by 6:30 a.m. So a 7 a.m. wakeup time is pure luxury. This is our catch up day. I had to find the nearest Enterprise Car Rental office, get them to pick me up and rent a car to get to a lab. Then I returned to do the laundry. In between the Admiral made a tasty breakfast of bacon and eggs and toast. While the laundry washed, we cleaned the front and sides of Slow Motion, washing away all the pelican poop from Key Largo, the salt water spray from the dastardly delivery captains and our own dirty foot marks. The Admiral washed down the isinglass that protects the flying bridge. Then it was off to the market to get staples like Oreos and Debbie’s crumb cakes – I mean, staples like yoghurt and milk – or both. And then back to Slow Motion to put everything away, then fill all the water jugs with city water from the dock faucet, then take the rental car back to Enterprise. Whew! I know, it’s not like preparing to argue a case before the Supreme Court, or even like arguing a misdemeanor DUI case before a jury. Still, this was supposed to be our day to relax. For tomorrow, weather permitting (thunderstorms in the forecast), we are heading north again for another 70 plus miles. At least during the week there are fewer rude boaters and almost no loony jet skiers.

Other cool things: There was a humongous bird (Giant Blue Heron?) – at least 3 and ½ feet tall – bluish gray – who greeted us at the Vero Beach Municipal Marina. The manatees are putting on a show for us at the Titusville Marina. The sunrises have been spectacular. Olivia turns 18 this week. Brenda sent us neat photos of Zorro and Ruby cavorting in the hills of lupine in Toro Park. We had spaghetti and meatballs twice this week. Lois sent me some very funny emails this past week. I had a great conversation with a sailor, Caroline, in the laundry room today. I finished the Animal Factory, and it was fantastic. Thank you, Sandra. Speaking of Sandra, we are extremely grateful that she was not injured in the car accident. Sonja embarks on a new adventure with a different law firm. These are all very cool things that have happened in the past few days. Oh, and Violet has a new vet – with a comfortable stuffed chair for an “examining table” – that’s very cool indeed. And Chris and Gryffin are walking to raise money for the SPCA and the critters whose lives are in their hands. And Brenda is walking to raise money to help women with breast cancer – the Avon Walk, which promises to put 90% back into the local community. My sister, Sue, went on her dream vacation to Hawaii for the past two weeks. So, as much as I rant and rave about the crude, rude boaters on the waterway, there are plenty of positive things happening with us and with friends and family, for which we are very, very grateful. And God bless all of you who figure out where we are by checking the coordinates that the Admiral sends out. You are in our hearts, and we wish you all cool things every day.