Key West to Melbourne 

Updated December 1, 2002

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A Novice Sailor's View

We have been cruising now for about six weeks. People ask how I like this life and I honestly can't come up with a good answer. Some times are glorious. When the wind first fills the sails and Polaris heels and surges, we raise our faces and howl like wolves from the sheer thrill of the moment. Salt spray mists our faces and the wind whips against our bodies. There is nothing else like it.

Between those moments, however, are  many more of monotony, of hot, sticky days when you can't forego slathering on sunscreen that makes you even stickier, bruises and broken fingernails as you try to get your sea legs, tense, frantic moments when docking under strong current and wind conditions, and the incessant rocking, rocking, rocking of the boat at anchor. And, then, there is the toilet. The dreaded head !! This head knows me and it doesn't like me. If there is a woman who has successfully mastered operation of the manual pump head, I would like to spend five minutes with her.

Difficult and uncomfortable days push back thoughts of considering this as a lifetime choice. But, for now, something keeps pulling me back on track... the sense of adventure, a feeling of accomplishment as I become more skilled and experienced, the unexpected burst of seabirds from their rookery, playful porpoises, the smell of salt in the air, hot, soapy showers in the cockpit after dark, spectacular night skies that are never seen from land, and the sunsets. Always the sunsets.

For Bob, sailing is a passion. It lives at his very core. When he is too old to climb aboard, he will no doubt use his engineering skills to rig a hoist to lift himself into position at the helm. Years from now, no doubt, Captain Kinnier will be somewhere in the world, face raised to the sky, howling into the wind.

I, on the other hand, will continue for now.

Fantasy Fantasy Fest was great fun, but after six days we were ready to sail for peace and quiet. The cruise book's description of the exclusive resort of Little Palm Island was too good to resist. Rooms overnight start at about $550 so we opted for lunch and anchoring out. Reservations made, we headed for the next adventure. Docks were full at the resort so we were picked up and delivered to the resort in their tender. Staff was extremely helpful and courteous, right down to an historic overview of the tiny island that has been somewhat redesigned by storms through the years. The restaurant is proud of its Margaritas so we began there. They were the best ever, but one sip told us that we better not have another. Two crab cakes for me and a shrimp salad sandwich for Bob, followed by Key Lime Pie with a decadent crushed cashew crust came to $100. Too pricey, but we were glad to have had the experience. Now we can head back to hamburger casserole "surprises" from our galley.

We motored through hundreds of fish traps all the way up the coast. It was the end of lobster season and the beginning of stone crab season. Trap floats looked like mine fields. For hours, I zig-zagged Polaris  with the remote autopilot from the bow to protect the propeller from tangling.

The inevitable happened, of course, and Bob dragged out scuba gear to go under the boat and remove a trap line, only to discover it had worked its way free. It was a four-hour unpacking, diving, washing, repacking job for nothing, accented by unusually colorful dialogue from Bob.

For this first-time snorkeler, Looe Key National Marine park was dazzling. Fish of all colors and sizes gathered around us, barely out of reach. A school of small yellow and black striped fish spiraled down around a buoy anchor as we floated slowly above them. We spotted a  large sea turtle on the bottom. He slowly swam to the surface for air, took a look at us and returned to the reef. I'll study our new fish book before we snorkel again. What a breathtakingly beautiful experience. And the Exumas, the best we are told, are still ahead..

Four days at the dock in Marathon gave us a chance to do laundry, groceries, internet banking, get our website going and, best of all, visit with former St. Pete friends Tom and Marie Smith who live aboard at Faro Blanco Marina with their dog Mr. Bach.

Their spacious power boat, Adventure, became our internet cafe thanks to their hospitality and thoughtfulness. Marie also gave me a tour of some exceptional art at a combined gallery on Plantation Key.

Rested and well stocked, we headed up the Hawk Channel to Rodriguez Key where anhingas dived for fish and cormorants spread their wings to dry as we dropped anchor near the small mangrove island. With a cold front moving in and high seas and winds predicted two days later, we made a boisterous powersail past Key Biscayne, Miami, and Hollywood surfing at 10 knots on a following sea to reach Ft. Lauderdale's downtown anchorage before nightfall. 

The sun disappeared just as we anchored. Never really believing that our hot, humid days would suddenly give way to a blast from north, we slept with hatches open and woke cold and shivering toward morning.

In sweatshirts and long pants, we motored through a cold Intracoastal Waterway bridge by bridge for nine hours, delayed by mechanical problems at Atlantic Ave. Bridge while Bob fought the wind to keep Polaris in the channel and clear of boats, docks, floating coconuts and trash. We have our own x-rated version of The Bridges of Broward County.

Finally we arrived at a safe anchorage in Palm Beach where we think we identified Donald Trump's mansion by its tower. Bob saw more mega-yachts between Lauderdale and Palm Beach than he has seen in an entire lifetime.

    Skirting Miami, heading for Ft. Lauderdale

The cold front was short and beautiful weather  followed as we continued in the ICW past Jupiter, Hobe Sound, Stuart, and Jensen Beach. Dolphins escorted us across St. Lucie Inlet, playing in our wake as we motored on to Vero Beach.

Since leaving St. Pete, we have not once sailed without the motor. So different from those easy, exhilarating day-sails in Tampa Bay.

The municipal marina dockmaster and staff at Vero Beach were the friendliest, most accommodating of the trip. They offered free internet connection, excellent laundry facilities and, along with all the common features of marinas, a ride into the grocery store and back because the dockmaster happened to be going that way. Riverside Cafe, a local hangout for great food and watching sunsets, was a short dinghy trip away that first evening.

Seven Seas Cruising Association's annual meeting in Melbourne was our reason for motoring up the ICW instead of heading south from Key West. I knew from Bob's description that I would meet extraordinary people who have lived and cruised on their sailboats for years. I was not disappointed.

We took a three-day "Spanish for Cruisers" course from a remarkable woman named Kathy Parsons. A former Peace Corps worker and longtime sailor, Kathy speaks Spanish fluently and has written books geared for the needs of boaters in Spanish-speaking countries. The course was exhausting, but my high school Spanish seemed to come back quickly.

 One young couple had worked and saved money for ten years in order to sail around the world. The woman laughed and said they "made" their crew, a boy and a girl who were 7 and 9 when the boat left the dock. The tales were sometimes frightening, but through each account, you could feel the love of cruising and the pride of accomplishment. Cruisers usually settle down and become part of a community in various countries as they circumnavigate the world. Some live for a few months, others for a few years, in remote areas of the world before sailing on to the next destination and the next adventure.

A woman of about 65 told of her determination, after a lost marriage, to sail across an ocean, alone if necessary. She refreshed her sailing skills, researched the market and bought her boat. Just weeks before setting sail, she fell in love for the second time. The couple married after just two months and set sail together. They have since circled the world twice in their 37-foot sailboat.

Nigel Calder, a famous navigator and author, gave three presentations at the meeting. We were especially interested in his adventures in Cuba because we planned to go there. He traveled with his wife and two children and shared fascinating accounts of what they discovered in that beautiful country. After the presentation, we talked with Nigel to get his thoughts about cruising Cuba now. In his opinion, there is too great of a risk of retribution from the US government, so we cancelled Cuba from our itinerary.

A late afternoon session was interrupted when the announcement came that a strong front was due to move into the harbor in 30 minutes. Everyone at anchor rushed down the hill to get out to their boats and protect them when the winds and waves increased. The weather turned cold. We put on foul weather gear and stood in blinding rain and wind to guard Polaris against a dragging anchor, a collision or other  damage.

When it came  time to depart Melbourne, we discovered that we had no power. Polaris' engine was in gear but the propeller was not rotating . The shaft had pulled out of the transmission coupling. We were helpless in the water. For the first time, Bob used his $100/yr. insurance policy with TowBoat US. In choppy water and gusting wind, we were towed to a nearby marina where eight boaters at the dock saw our dilemma and jumped on board Polaris and the towboat to get us safely tied up. It was terrifying  to see a 30,000-pound sailboat bobbed around like a toy in the narrow channel of concrete docks, pilings and other boats. Twenty minutes later we were tied down, safe and sound without a scratch. For boaters who are considering towing insurance, the bill was $650. 

We ended up having the boat pulled out of the water, and having the shaft and coupling replaced. Once out of the water, examination of the running gear revealed that the crab pot that we hit must have wrapped between the strut bearing and the propeller, causing the shaft to be pulled out of the coupling. A couple thousand dollars later, everything is back together.

A quick trip back to St. Pete by rental car for doctor's appointments and a home base while Polaris was on the hard was a pleasant change of pace after six weeks living aboard. My cat, Mr. Busby, came home from his stay with friend Sherri Magill and her two cats, "the girls." Although obviously happy to be with me again, Busby let me know that life at Resort Magill had been quite nice. He asked to be combed several times a day by throwing himself down in front of me when I ventured close to the drawer where his comb is kept. He sat next to the sink and asked for the water to be turned on for a little drink and swaggered about looking for new  possibilities for entertainment. Despite serious reservations, I began to imagine the 10-year-old, portly fellow in his own little orange life jacket, living aboard Polaris with us.

While Polaris was on the hard, we had an insurance survey done. This revealed what Bob already knew, the rudder is delaminating from old age. So we are taking the boat to another yard, having it hauled, and the rudder repaired.... another couple thousand. (Bob's entry here) But what the hell, it's only money and ain't boating fun?

We expect to be in the Bahamas by the end of December to celebrate a warm Christmas and put our toes in the water again.

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