1/9/2015, Blown Away

Some say that all sailing blogs follow this narrative: “Just sailing along, something broke, I fixed it.” This post is one of those, with a few really scary parts added in.

We had spent seven warm, glorious, lazy days at the unprotected Ft. Pierce anchorage, just south of the Ft. Pierce Bridge, on the east side of the channel. To the west was the inlet that led to the ocean. “Unprotected” meant that wind from almost any direction would hit us hard.

On Thursday, 1/8/15, we woke up very early in the morning, maybe 3 AM, to howling winds. We decided to bring in our plants. We also brought in the fender that we left on deck, (tied to the boat), for swimming in the strong current. I had just used it this afternoon, when the weather was calm and beautiful.

Once back in our stateroom, ready to try to go back to sleep, we noticed a bright light flashing through the ports. At first I thought it was lightening, but there was no rain or thunder. We looked outside. Our neighbor, on the boat that we referred to as “The Brits,” because they were, and because we never saw their boat name, was shouting against the raging wind. ”YOU’VE…DRAGGED!” The waves were rushing by, dark with white foam, like in a movie. All of the lights on his boat were on, and he was holding a huge white fender ball, ready, in case we swung into him. This young British couple had been across the ocean and knew how to prepare for anything! We, on the other hand, are still learning.

We noticed the channel marker and manatee warning sign, previously at least 100 feet behind us, were much closer, and we were in line with the Brits instead the “Blue Boat” from Canada in front of them, where we expected to be. We had dragged at least the length of one boat, and were continuing to move rapidly backward.

We quickly started our engine and, shaking with fright, I turned on all of the instrument switches, in preparation for bringing up the anchor and resetting it. As is our habit, Chuck brings up the anchor and I put it down, so he went to the bow and I went to the helm, in shorts, t-shirt and jacket.

I reflexively turned on the instruments at the helm, including the chart plotter, which had stopped working immediately after we left our Vero Beach mooring on January 1, 2015 to head south. When we turned it on we got no picture, and it make a squealing noise. (For my non-boating friends, the chartplotter is like the GPS in a car. However, with no "roads" and plenty of dangers, it's really important.)

In spite of the chart plotter not working, we had been able to make the 13.5 mile trip down to Ft Pierce on New Year’s Day, in daylight, with no issues. Even though it was cloudy and drizzly, we just followed the channel markers on the very well-marked and nearly straight channel. That day, the autopilot was working but the chart plotter did not display any image. We decided to stop at Ft Pierce, only two hours away from Vero Beach (with little wind, and the current in our favor), because it was beginning to rain and the anchorage was easy to spot without a chart plotter. And there was room for our boat. After 3 tries, (which maybe should have been a red flag!), we were able to anchor without dragging, and we stayed there for a week. We were using the Bruce anchor that we had employed since the problems in Cape May  (see blog post  "9/15/2014 - 9/19/2014, NJ Coast, Little Egg Inlet, Cape May Adventures 1-5").

We spent the week at Ft Pierce trying to diagnose and solve our chart plotter problem.

•          We took our nav pod apart and tried to find anything detached, loose or frayed. No such luck.
•          We made a phone call to Raymarine, who said our model was too old to fix. To replace it, we’d need to upgrade both the chart plotter and our radar, which is analog, and all of the associated wiring. Approximate cost, at least $3500, plus another very large number for installation.
•          We made calls to local dealers, hoping for a more favorable “Second opinion.” They didn’t call back.
•          We tried to buy a replacement Raymarine “RL70C” that we could swap in, to work with our existing wiring and radar, at least temporarily. We struck out on Craiglist, and eBay wouldn’t let us pay with a credit card because our billing address and shipping address are in different states, so we had to cancel the transaction.
•          We tried and succeeded in buying a suitable backup unit, a new model Garmin. We decided to have the Garmin mailed to the Vero Beach City Marina. We had the address with us, and we knew it would be an easy trip back to pick it up. We made a mooring reservation for Friday, 1/9, when we expected the package to arrive at the marina.
•          We received New Year’s greetings from a friend who spends winters in Vero. We asked for a recommendation and found a shop that did talk to us, but they agreed that the old machine could not be fixed and they tried, but were unable, to locate a replacement unit. They said we’d have to buy something new, which they could help us install. They also kindly clued us in that this thing is no longer called a “chart plotter”. Now it’s an “MFD,” or Multi-Function Display.
•          We called Pete Brocker, the diver at the Vero Beach City Marina, and a great all around resource, since he has been at Vero Beach for many years. We hadn’t exchanged contact info, but we were able to find his easily, since he has a business. We asked him for recommendations, and he referred us to Mike Giannotti, the electrician who works in FL in the winter, for Hartge Yacht Yard, in Maryland. I actually had Mike’s card, which I had gotten from a Hartge presentation at the SSCA GAM in Annapolis, in September. I didn’t realize that he was in Vero Beach, and that he works at the Vero Beach Marina all the time. I called him and left a message.
•          I always expect electricians, plumbers, and any other essential tradespeople to be too busy to talk to us. Mike not only called back, but also tried to walk us through some basic testing over the phone. He had us check our system with the radar unplugged, and it worked! But only once, and we couldn’t get it working after that. I was hopeful that our box was still usable, but Mike said no, he didn’t think so. And of course we wanted it to work with the radar on.

Back to Thursday morning, in the dark, early hours of the morning, at the Ft Pierce anchorage, with the anchor dragging, and the cold north wind howling. Chuck was at the bow, trying to bring up the anchor. I was at the helm. By habit, I turned on the chart plotter, and a picture displayed! But it was too bright and I couldn’t see ahead of me, so I quickly turned it off. We tried to re-anchor a few times and could not. The wind was blowing about 35 knots and gusting to 38, and the current was very strong. And it was cold! I was shaking from both fright and cold.

What should we do? We knew there was another anchorage nearby that might have been more protected from the wind, and maybe with a better holding bottom, but would we be able to find it in the dark? Would there be room for another boat? Our anchorage was close to the inlet that lead to the ocean, and was, we finally realized, well scoured on the bottom, from the tide going in and out. That meant poor holding, at least with the Bruce anchor, which doesn’t have a pointy end to grab in. The Bruce had been terrific in the Chesapeake, which has a mud bottom.

We decided to go back to Vero Beach City Marina in the dark, expecting we’d travel for a few hours and get there in the light. We knew it had been a two hour trip down to Ft Pierce, a week earlier. When does the sun come up now anyway? We didn’t know.  What time was it? We didn’t know.

We radioed the Ft Pierce bascule bridge to request an opening. The operator saw us leaving the anchorage and he cheerfully agreed to open for us. He wished us luck, and said, “I hope you don’t get blown away!” We headed north through the bridge. It was very dark, and very cold. The moon was out and nearly full, but the sky was so cloudy that there was very little light. It was hard to see the channel, which had been so easy to follow in the daylight. I tried to find our “Master Blaster”, a very bright spot light, but couldn’t locate it in my near-panic, and didn’t want to leave Chuck alone up on deck, so I abandoned the idea of using it, and just brought up a regular flash light.

Almost immediately, we drifted away from the channel and almost grounded. We didn’t know which way to turn to stay in. Chuck tried to turn on the chart plotter and it came on, miraculously, a second time! I found the instructions and we successfully dimmed the display.  This time the chart plotter was working but the autopilot was not, so someone had to hand-steer the whole time, standing out in the cold wind. We took turns at the helm, switching off for quick trips below for more clothing. When I went below, I finally grabbed my watch and checked the time. It was 4:48.

I can’t see well in the dark, and when we dimmed the chart plotter, the speed indicator and the depth meter also darkened enough that I couldn’t see them from the wheel. Chuck read me the depth meter whenever I asked or he noticed it dropping, and he located the channel markers with the flashlight. A few of the markers were lighted but most were not.

For the first time, I did most of the helming. We were both very tired, but I’m better at staying up all night. Chuck kept me company and took over whenever I needed to go below, to get more clothing – long pants, hat, gloves.  I dragged my ski clothes back out from under the mattress. It was cold standing there at the wheel, even though we have a dodger to block the wind. The wind was right on the nose. There were whitecaps in the ICW from the wind blowing the water. One time a wave sprayed over the bow and water landed on me, from beyond the dodger. With glasses on, this meant it obscured my vision. I went down to clean my glasses, and took the opportunity to rest my neck, which was aching from tension, and from the strain of gripping the wheel and leaning into the strong wind. I thought of an old mariner that I had read about who tied himself to the wheel in stormy conditions so he wouldn’t get washed over board. It was uncomfortable for us, but at least it wasn’t that bad!

While I was below cleaning my glasses, I suddenly caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I was surprised, “Wow, my hair looks terrific!” I don’t fuss much with my appearance on the boat, and certainly didn’t this night, but I had just cut my hair and the wind had styled it. I remembered an expression from my childhood, “The Windblown Look.” This described the “new look”, when the adult women in my life first transitioned from set and styled hairdos, (created by sitting under torturously hot and noisy hair dryers and held stiffly in place with lots of hairspray), to a more natural look, with the advent of hand held blow dryers. Windblown was quite the understatement on this day.

We continued north, past lighted and non-lighted markers, looking out for something to aim toward, and most of all trying not to hit a channel marker. If I took my tired, irritated, watery eyes off the chart plotter or mark for even a few seconds, the wind would blow us off course and potentially out of the channel. Then I had to ask Chuck for depth readings to determine how quickly and aggressively I needed to move, to get back to mid-channel. At one point we passed through overhead power lines, and it was difficult to determine which set of poles to pass through until we got very close. And of course it was imperative that we not hit a pole!

I was wondering, “When is sun up in Florida in January?” I was hoping for 6 AM. And where does it come up? Which way is east? We were traveling North NorthWest, so east was to my starboard (right) side and behind us. The moon was on our port side and behind, so it didn’t help much. It illuminated the area behind us a little, but sadly, it did nothing for the view ahead of us. 6 AM came and went, and no sign of the sun. I thought I saw an emerging lighted patch on the horizon, but it was behind us, to the south, so it was some city lights and not the sun. Finally, Chuck noticed faint light peering between the clouds on the east side. I was tired, cold and stiff. My neck was aching.

At long last we came to a bridge, and I could see from the chart plotter that another bridge was coming up soon after this one, so that made this one the 17^th Street Bridge, in Vero Beach, and the farther one the Merrill Barber Bridge, which is also in Vero Beach and within sight of the marina. Suddenly it was 7:15 AM, we were between the two bridges, and the sun was up. We tried to call the marina by phone, but got voice mail. They open at 8 AM.

As soon as we turned toward the marina and away from our straight windward course, we picked up speed. We had been running with the engine at 2600 rpms and only making 4 kts against the wind and current (compared to over 7 kts on the way down). Our speed quickly went up to 4.5 and then higher, so we slowed the engine as we entered the marina.

We cruised the mooring field looking for an empty mooring or place to anchor. We spotted an empty mooring, not far from a large powerboat that appeared to be anchored in the channel. It turned out the empty mooring was broken, and yes, the powerboat had broken off of it with the high winds during the night. So he dropped his anchor in the channel, safely away from other boats. We headed for the anchorage off to the west, just beyond the powerboat, in the mangrove cove. We were ecstatic to find it empty. At 7:55, we set our anchor in the same spot where we had seen the Doyle’s boat, Semi Local, anchored when we first arrived in Vero Beach a month earlier. (Mark and Diana Doyle are the authors of our favorite ICW anchorage books and ICW cruising books.)

View of the mooring field, from the anchorage.

We spent the day Thursday and the following night at anchor, waiting for the wind to calm so we could move over to a mooring and raft with our friends Frank and Suzanne, on s/v Rockhopper.

In all, we ran the engine for 3.8 hours, so we must have started just after 4 AM.  I thought we’d need to sleep for a few days to recover, but it was quick. We spent the first day warming up, napping, eating, drinking tea and marveling at our good fortune to have gotten back to Vero Beach safely, in the dark, with equipment that we didn’t expect to work. We are so very thankful.

Mangrove cove anchorage on Friday, after the storm

Preparing to leave mangrove cove anchorage

Autopilot (out), wind indicator & chart plotter (working)

The next day, we stopped at the dock for the 5 essentials (fuel, water, pump-out, trash, intel) and then rafted with Rockhopper.

Frank on Rockhopper

Suzanne with Jonesy and Ozzy.

In the afternoon we met with Mike Giannotti, the electrician from Hartge.

Chuck with Mike Giannotti, working inside the nav pod

Within an hour, Mike found a fuse that was out, and he also discovered that the wires for the chart plotter, autopilot and other instruments were chafing in the place where the wires leave the nav pod to go down the stainless steel tubes that support it, to connect with switches and other things inside the boat. Some caulk, some electrical tape, a new fuse, and we were amazingly, and very gratefully, back in business!

Sandy & Chuck on s/v Summer Wind

Night view of the Merrill Barber Bridge, from our mooring. 

12/11/14 – 1/1/15, "Velcro" Beach (Part 1)

We can't say they didn’t warn us!  

Cruisers affectionately refer to Vero Beach, FL as “Velcro Beach.” People love it, and they get stuck here. Some stay for a week or two, some for a month or for the season. And some just never leave, like the two boats at the dock who have been there for 10 and 20 years, respectively. There is even a large community of former cruisers living here in houses and condos. They proudly call themselves CLODs, “Cruisers Living on Dirt.”

We arrived in Vero Beach on Thursday, December 11^th. It was a cold day in FL. We had been invited to a party on Sunday the 13th, and planned to leave on Monday to continue our southward journey.

The party was with the “Southern Cruisers”, a group of people who travel south each year and are mostly from the Annapolis area. We had met some of them during our Chesapeake Bay cruise with the Annapolis and Philadelphia Corinthians in October, and we managed to have ourselves added to the email list. The email distribution allows the group members to keep track of each other as they are cruising, and also to warn one another of ICW trouble spots, such as bridges with schedule changes.

Upon arrival at the Vero Beach City Marina that Thursday, we went to the dock to do the 5 essentials: fill the water tanks, empty the holding tanks, fill the diesel tanks, empty the trash, and gather intel. At the dock, we ran into Mark Doyle, the coauthor (with his wife, Diana) of the "On the Water Chart Guides" books we've been using to navigate the ICW and find good anchorages. I was thrilled to be able to tell him, in person, how much we love their books!

Then we moved to our mooring. We rafted with an empty Canadian boat, near the mangroves.

Canadian boat with upside down dinghy, next door.

View of the gas dock, from our mooring. Dinghy dock is to the left, out of view.

We were given a mooring in the center of the mooring field, close to the dingy dock, because we had been having trouble with our dinghy engine and Chuck had to row it at St Augustine. (The dinghy engine magically started cooperating again here in Vero). While tying up, I thought I saw manatee circles, (the pattern that they make in the water), but didn't see the manatee. They should be here, but it’s been an unusually cold winter.

On Friday we explored the free bus system, which is a wonderful thing, and makes Vero Beach especially convenient for cruisers.

Bus stop at the marina.

It must be 10 of or 10 after, the bus is here!

If only more ICW towns would realize that we need and want to spend money for provisions and entertainment, we just need help to be able to get where the food and performances are! The Vero Beach busses run every week day, plus a shorter schedule on Saturday. No bus on Sunday.

The bus hub, where riders can change to a different line.

Everyone benefits from the Vero Beach free bus system. People can get where they need to go in a reliable manner. When they get there, they can spend the “bus fare” and more on other things. It’s a quick and simple trip from the marina on the #1 bus to the West Marine store or the grocery store. With more planning and more time, we can take a combination of busses to get to the big box stores or the marine parts supplier near the airport. Some cruisers spend their days busily stocking up for their trip to the Bahamas. They make bus trips daily, buying as much beer, “pop” and toilet paper as they can carry each time. (These things are reputed to be prohibitively expensive in the Bahamas.)

Our first stop was the Shandong Noodle House, for lunch.

Shandong Noodle House

We have had lots of wonderful food along the ICW, but hadn't had Chinese food since before we left CT in September, and I was missing it! 

Then we checked out the West Marine and the Publix (grocery store) for a few things that we needed.

When we got back to the marina we took a dinghy ride through the mangrove lined canals, where we saw birds, fish and porpoises, but again, no manatees.

Touring the beautiful mangrove cove in our dinghy.

Looking at the ICW, from the mangrove cove.

Sunset over the mangrove canal

On Saturday we attended a briefing by Mark Doyle covering the Florida section of the ICW. It was primarily for the group of cruising boats organized by Sail Magazine that he was helping to lead, and we were invited to join them. It was at a nearby marina, Loggerhead, which is far more luxurious than the Vero Beach City Marina, with a pool, a golf course, and an attended gate. CLODs volunteered to drive all of the cruisers over, since none of us have cars and the bus doesn't go there.

After the presentation Chuck and I took the free #1 bus over to the beach side, and had lunch at “The Lemon Tree,” a restaurant that had been recommended to us. It was very nice and they even give everyone complimentary sorbet for dessert. Yummy!

Lunch at the Lemon Tree

Salad at The Lemon Tree

Complimentary Sorbet at The Lemon Tree

We walked along the beach and boardwalk, and decided to try to find the location of Sunday’s party. On the way, we passed an “Open House” and couldn’t resist taking a peek. The house was right on the ocean and really stunning, but the asking price of $6.5 million is considerably out of our league!

On Saturday night we had dinner with our friends Frank and Suzanne, on their sailboat, Rockhopper. (Named after a penguin, not the New England seascape). We had met them in St. Marys, GA over Thanksgiving.

On Sunday we took in “Art in the Park”, a (sort of) weekly show of local artists and artisans which we really enjoyed. All of the artists are present and eager to talk about their work, which I always find fascinating. Then we rode our bikes to the Southern Cruisers party, stopping on the way at a nice local market, The Village Beach Market, for cheese, pate, crackers and drinks to bring. At the party we saw some friends that we had met in the Chesapeake and met new ones, got info on cruising to the Bahamas, and met Linda, the yoga teacher. Nearly everyone in the group goes to yoga with Linda on Tuesday and Friday mornings, which only costs $4 per person. Chuck often wakes up on the boat with stiff muscles, so it wasn’t as hard I expected to talk him into going to yoga. So we decided to stay until Tuesday, to go to yoga with our friends. (Turns out he loves it!)

Southern Cruiser's Party

Southern Cruiser's Party

Southern Cruiser's Party

 We were prepared to ride home in the dark.

Sandy & Chuck, leaving the Southern Cruiser's Party

It didn’t take long before we found ourselves in a routine at Vero Beach – Yoga on Tuesdays and Fridays, the Farmers Market over by the beach on Saturdays, Art in the Park on Sunday mornings (by bike), laundry on Sunday afternoons (no bus on Sunday), and cocktails at the marina on Thursdays.  The weather was warming up and we were so very comfortable. We even saw people we knew. Quite a few of the boats that we had met at St Marys, GA over Thanksgiving were now here in Vero with us.

So we decided to stay for Christmas. Boats in the marina were decorated with colored lights, and plans were being made for the holiday dinner. A signup sheet was posted on the cruiser’s lounge door for potluck dishes. The marina doesn’t have a restaurant or even a room big enough for everyone. But it does have a walk-through laundry room, with 6 machines for washing on one side, and 7 dryers on the other side. For Christmas, they covered all of the machines with brightly colored plastic table cloths and created a double sided buffet line to hold all of the potluck dishes that the cruisers brought. We ate outside at the picnic area and had a feast!

Boats decorated for Christmas

The laundry room

The laundry/buffet line transition

Cruisers waiting in line

Dressed up for Christmas

New friends Rhonda, Richard, Linda, Dawnell, John, and others

The picnic area

Back for dessert, with Karl, John and Dawnell

Our psychological anchor was set, and was being buried deeper and deeper at Velcro Beach. We met more new friends at Christmas. We continued taking the bus for errands. We found fun places to eat, such as “Patisserie Vero Beach,” a treasure that we found by accident. One afternoon we decided to explore the thrift stores and art galleries that are along the route of the #4 bus. Late in the day we were feeling in need of a coffee pick-me-up. We entered a café, but the woman was closing. She directed us through her café, to the street behind her, to the Patisserie, which is on “Old Dixie Highway.” It’s not very noticeable from the outside (I almost miss it every time we go by), but inside the décor is a wall of perfect French pastries, baguettes, croissants, and cheeses, a coffee bar and the window through which guests can watch the bakers work. We have now been back several times for pastry, and also for lunch. They serve sandwiches, quiche, soup, salads etc. Everything is special and wonderful, and a little out of our budget, but well worth it.

Patisserie Vero Beach, interior

Baguettes, croissants and other goodies

Incredibly wonderful fancy pastries

Croissants, Pain au Chocolat and other variations

The bakery, visible through a window

We rode our bikes all over town.

Chuck, in his favorite cruising hat

A sandwich that I  really want to try

A place where we did not "stop"

We asked questions in the most unexpected places and got incredibly useful answers. When we couldn’t find the Lemon Tree restaurant that first Saturday, we stopped in at a Real Estate office, and the agent gave us a great map of the city. When we stopped in the Holiday Inn looking for a water fountain during our run on Christmas morning, the woman behind the desk said, “Wait a minute!” and handed us two bottles of chilled water. When Chuck had us bike all the way over to “his” bank to get cash, he asked the teller something and ended up with directions to a nearby hidden beach path. The beaches are public, but the access paths are well hidden. We visited the beach and then stopped on the way home for terrific pizza as it began to drizzle.

Beach access, almost hidden

Beach access path, looking back toward the street

Beach access path continues

And finally, the beach

A quiet (cold) day at the beach

South Beach Pizzeria

We returned to the secret beach the next sunny day, with bathing suits and towels. We swam and jumped in the (really strong) waves and laughed like little kids!

We swam at South Beach on a sunnier day, with big waves

Somehow we heard about a park at “Round Island,” where we’d be able to see manatees. As we left the beach, we asked a local kid where it was. He told us the direction and said it was very far. Kids don’t really walk or ride all over like we did as kids, so I thought it couldn't be as far as he said. But I was wrong! We rode and rode. When we could, we asked people where it was. “A few miles further.” We rode for over an hour. Fortunately it was very flat and we were able to ride on the sidewalk, away from the traffic.

In all, it was about 7 miles away from the marina. When we got to Round Island, the park was beautiful, and was well worth the trip. There are paths through the woods, connected by bridges with glorious views of the various bodies of water. It was very relaxing and the people we met were fun to talk to, but there were no manatees this day. We were advised to try the power plant, (which we finally did, another day).

Bridge and viewing area, Round Island Park

Wooden Bridge at Round Island Park

When our new marina friends started asking about plans for New Year’s Eve, we decided we had to stay until New Year’s. We had a bottle of champagne from my sweet nephew and brother in law chilling in the fridge, and we could certainly bring some appetizers. It would be an early affair, since everyone knows “Cruisers Midnight” is 9:00 PM. We started at 5:00 and celebrated “Happy New Year!” at 8 PM.

New Years Eve in the Cruisers Lounge,
with Dawnell, Ursala, Michel, Chuck, John

New Years Eve in the Cruisers Lounge

New Years Eve in the Cruisers Lounge

Chuck and I had decided we would leave on the first of January. We paid our marina bill in advance, said goodbye to all of our friends, and we finally unstuck ourselves from Velcro Beach on 1/1/15. (But not for long!)

Sandy & Chuck

on s/v Summer Wind