MOVING ON

Lake Boca, FL 26º20.684N | 80º04.420W

When we are in one place for more than a few days, a real lethargy seeps into my bones, the longer the stay, the deeper it seeps. At some point, natural law takes over, and inertia seems to turn up the gravity under my feet. Even the boat gets sluggish, weighted down, the bottom, the rudder and the prop start looking like a dang chia pet. The anchor chain grows heavy with slimy green algae. I guess that's what happens to my psyche: it gets green slime all over it. Ick.

It takes real focus to shake it off and get underway again, but I have to admit, I'm an addict, completely hooked on a drug called 'movement.'

Moving the boat a few hundred yards is enough for my drug-of-choice to kick in, filling me with energy, hope, optimism, industriousness, adrenaline, creativity. Any lingering lethargy is left behind with the algae in that slimy patch of water. Everything's fresh again.

Before getting underway, we put the boat in order, stowing loose objects, getting out the tools of piloting, raising and securing the dinghy. When all these minor chores are done, it's like having a packed suitcase by the door with your passport sitting on top. It reeks of readiness and the promise of adventure.

The pouring rain in Fort Lauderdale could not deter us this morning. I raised the anchor with my slicker on, hosing a month of slime off the chain as it rolled in. The anchor came onboard with a glorious CLANK. I do love that sound. Chip pointed the bow north.

We're excited to visit great friends and destinations along the Florida coast on our way to Georgia, where we'll keep the boat safe from hurricanes for the season.

Our first stop tonight, Lake Boca, is a lovely spot where I only ran aground twice (!)(really just kisses) trying to enter. And with the anchor down, the ultimate reward of traveling by boat kicks in. The rain has moved offshore leaving us a perfect, cool evening ahead, energized and content from a day of travel, and we never left home! Our beautiful house is right downstairs -- no suitcase required.

Enjoying my last New Mexico treat.

AUSSIE BRASS

Fort Lauderdale, FL

This Catana catamaran called Mistral pulled in next to us at Lauderdale Marine Center. I caught the docklines for them and started chatting.

This was the first time the new owners had docked the boat having just purchased it. The husband and wife from Australia have been cruising for 17 years, most of it on a steel boat he made himself and later sold. He told us when they surveyed his 10+year old steel hull, they could not find any rust. Truly remarkable.

After the steel sailboat, they bought a canal boat in Europe and tooled around there until he got the ocean bug again. They sold the canal boat and have now switched from monohulls to this cat, which the wife reports has "a lot of things not working for a 10-year-old boat," including a broken $7K daggerboard snapped by the guy delivering the boat from South America.

They plan to spend a week doing some chores and are then setting off to spend next season in the Caribbean and then through the Panama Canal and back to Oz, as he calls Australia, as if they are taking a stroll to grandma's house.

He wants to get in some more ocean sailing before he's too old.

They flew in a few weeks ago with backpacks.

Bought a boat.

And off they go.

LAUDERDALE'S WARM EMBRACE

Fort Lauderdale, FL

The other day during our exciting transit of the East River, I was grumbling about not feeling all that welcome in Fort Lauderdale.

That evening at our anchorage I looked out to see a small yellow powerboat anchored just off our port side and shouted a simple 'hello.' That's how it all started.

Yesterday morning, we heard a tap-tap on the hull. Meet Bob of the yellow powerboat.

Meet Bob.

He had come bearing a sailboater's frankincense and myrrh: a 40-pound bag of ice (huge) and a 12-pack of beer. Really? Geez, thanks, Bob. Come over later.

Thus we became part of the family of Bob, his wife Etel, John, Lily, Paul and Sherry plus two dogs in bags. They rafted up to Cara Mia, this time bearing a whole case of beer and plate after plate of food, which they ate very little of and then insisted that we keep. Enough food and beer to send our marine refrigerator into a 24-hour recovery frenzy.

Then they insisted that we come aboard for a joy ride around the very busy weekend waterways of Fort Lauderdale, stopping at a bar where we met Gabriele from Venezuela, who drew us a cocktail napkin map of the best sailing spots in his country and subsequently bought us a round of drinks.

Etel and her doggies visit Cara Mia.

I had a chat with Etel once we were rafted up again to Cara Mia. Her family fled political unrest in Nicaragua when she was young, taking refuge in Honduras. Her parents sent her to Guatemala alone to attend a girls' boarding school, then to Mexico for college. In her twenties, she came to the U.S. alone seeking political asylum. She lived for two years in San Diego before moving to Fort Lauderdale, again on her own, where she met Bob. Her five siblings still live in Honduras, and her parents have been able to return to Nicaragua and reclaim their property.

Etel is a sweet and inspiring reminder of how very much we take for granted.

Bob, the self-appointed aquatic emissary of Fort Lauderdale, insisted that we must come visit his home, was offended that we might not spend the night (or two) and promises to come hang out again today with Venezuelan Gabriele in tow.

He pressed me for a grocery list, so he could bring us a 'few things,' but I refused (several times).

After we waved goodbye and they motored off, I said, "What's in this bag?" It was a plate of fresh calamari.

Welcome to Fort Lauderdale!

UP THE CREEK

Fort Lauderdale, FL

The New River in Fort Lauderdale meanders way inland. It's a beautiful trek amongst gorgeous houses with amazing boats tied up behind them.

It's a pretty narrow creek in some spots, even without being lined by docked boats on each side, and it's heavily trafficked by large boats.

The Jungle Queen, she moves fast.

Add to this a swift current and drawbridges, you have a pretty entertaining flume ride.

Sometimes the bridges open right away when you hail them; sometimes they make you wait. When we were headed up the creek, the railroad bridge which is 'usually open' was, in fact, closed, which required a quick tie-up to the water taxi dock to wait for the opening.

We spent three nights at Lauderdale Marine Center (a great spot and only 80 cents a foot) but decided to head back downstream for the weekend. We left the marina slip yesterday at slack tide, removing at least one factor from the excitement. However, slack tide on the New River = Rush hour. Turns out everyone that needed to move a big boat was underway at the same time.

The big boats kept warning of their locations on the VHF. Unfortunately for us, they were using references only locals would know.

"This is motoryacht Lukousaurus moving upriver near the girls school. Standing by on 09 for concerned traffic."

Where the heck is the girls school?

We cleared the first bridge before becoming concerned about traffic. As we came to one of the narrowest parts, we saw towboats pulling a large yacht toward us. We crept as close as we could to the starboard side of the creek, right up against the pilings, lines at the ready in case we had to tie up. I ran for the camera.

I snapped this picture just after the guy on the cell phone waved at me. Once the boat passed, my jaw dropped, and Chip, whose sole focus had been keeping us off the pilings, (not me taking pictures) started shouting, "GET THE CAMERA!"

Blue Guitar is Eric Clapton's motoryacht, a nice, classy contrast to Spielberg's boat.

I went dashing back to the cockpit, frantically zooming in to see who just waved to me from on deck.

Alas, it was not The Man.

About that time, apparently Lukousaurus had cleared the girls school. We came around a hairpin turn to this:

Fortunately he saw us coming and slowed down until we hugged the far side.

And then hauled ass around the turn.

William Marshall Bridge.

Gauntlet run. Safely anchored in time for a spectacular sunset.

FRIENDS, COMING AND GOING

Fort Lauderdale, FL

The crew of British S/V Black Thorn hail from England. They love to laugh, and they name their boats after ingredients in gin, the last one Juniper. How could you not love that? Jackie and Robin proclaim themselves 'chickens' about sailing, but I don't believe them. They got their chops sailing in the challenging waters off the coast of England and made a transatlantic passage from England to Trinidad before meandering up this way. It's just as hard to believe Jackie's claim to being a hard-nosed, shoulder-pad-wearing insurance exec in London, trying to tame Robin, who is a former cow farmer with a degree from Oxford.

They are welcome to bring their jolly, country-farmhouse-owning selves aboard Cara Mia any time. It was a pleasure to share Lake Sylvia with them. They are Bahama-bound, so watch for them over there!

Black Thorn had just sailed away when I looked at Facebook:

What are the chances? With a party afoot, we yanked up the anchor and headed for a place that wouldn't require a massive dinghy ride and would give us easy access to nighttime activities.

Unfortunately the tides, currents and bridge openings were a Rubik's cube without a solution Monday. The ride had a few undesirable thrills, but we landed safely if not a little rattled at Downtown Docks, a beautiful stop and right next to:

Farmer, of Outer Banks Boarding Company and Farmdog Surf School, was on his way to Costa Rica with his Aussie friend Aaron for a week of surfing. We added a certain je ne c'est quoi to their journey by letting them sleep aboard Cara Mia. Facebook comes to life!

Our new song: Friday night people at a Monday night bar.

Could you anchor just a little closer? Might as well raft up.

Palm trees make me happy.

Dinghy musings.

LEARNING FROM OTHERS

Fort Lauderdale, FL

Every once in a while, I "entertain" myself by reading about all the recent disasters at sea.

"Why do you do that?" Chip asked yesterday, a fair and relevant question.

It all started when I was reading a cruiser's book, and they wrote, to paraphrase heavily, "don't let not knowing how to sail keep you from cruising. We knew dick squat, and we didn't die."

That attitude gets me all riled up. Number one, I think it's completely irresponsible to go offshore with that cavalier attitude. When you get into trouble, somebody has to risk their life to come help you. Number two, it's even more irresponsible to encourage others to do the same. Certainly, we all have to learn offshore sailing by, yes, sailing offshore. But doing that without first sailing inshore -- a lot -- is foolish.

Then a few days into stewing about that book, Island Packet posted this article and a haunting, really haunting photo of a fully intact Island Packet 380, exactly like Cara Mia, adrift, ghosting alone in the Atlantic.

BOTH SIDES OF THE TRACKS

As we dinghied toward the ICW yesterday, we drove under the bow of a monster, megayacht. Seven Seas, it turns out is the $200 million personal vessel of director Steven Spielberg.

This 282-foot beast can be chartered for $1.3 mil -- a week.

It's difficult to capture in a photo just how extra large that boat is. Those two boats behind it in the above photo are 'normal' megayachts. Behind Seven Seas is a two-story building with a rooftop restaurant where folks were probably wishing Mr. Spielberg would at least show one of his movies on the side of the boat to compensate them for utterly obstructing their view.

When we reached the 'other side' of the ICW, we were curious to see standup paddle boarders paddling around with laundry baskets attached to their boards. We stopped to ask, what's up? They had attached nets to their paddles and were scooping litter out of the water. (Unfortunately my photos didn't come out. I'll try to catch them again.)

"Are you volunteers?" I asked.

"No, volunteering is P.R.," one woman said. "We're just doing this, because we want to."

OUR IRREGULAR LIFE

Fort Lauderdale, FL 26º6.328N | 80º6.690W

Fort Lauderdale is a beautiful boater's haven yet not so cruiser-friendly. There are precious few anchorages, and even fewer docks where we can leave the dinghy and get on land. Our daily source of adventure is dinghying more than a mile, under bridges, down canals and across the busy ICW, to tie up behind a bar where they charge $10 to dock. Fortunately that $10 can apply to your tab at the bar/restaurant, so any trip to shore must include time for a couple of beers or a bite to eat.

To get out of our anchorage, we have to pass under low-slung bridges, made easier but less fun at low tide.

Friday we went to several happy hours in remote locations, driven by a fun Kiwi (New Zealander) that we met through cruising friends. We had a grand time right up until midnight when he dropped us off at our dinghy on his way to another party.

We're still looking for a slip to rent. Our favorite is behind this 'house.'

Yes, it's a castle, built out of coral. Adorable. 800 square feet. Beautiful slip too, but a little expensive for us. :-(

So we stay for free at anchor, ditching under bridges, drinking our dockage fees, meeting lovely sailors from all over the world.

Our first cockpit part included Alejandro, a pilot and maraca player from Venezuela (that's his stunning boat at the top), Martin, a former tugboat captain from The Netherlands, and Jackie and Robin, former Merrill Lynch execs from England.

Great adventures in Fort Lauderdale -- and we're just getting started!

Alejandro, captain of S/V Janley shown at the top of this post.

S/Y Blackthorn built from a blank hull by Robin & Jackie.