CONNECTIONS

Vero Beach, FL 26º39.582N | 80º22.298W

Vero Beach mooring field, cloudy and empty.

Having moved around a lot in my life, I've never been one to take friends for granted. But now that we're cruising, always on the move, connections are even more meaningful, especially the serendipitous ones.

We barreled into Vero Beach on Thursday afternoon, dropped the dinghy and took off for shore. Chip was bound for the grocery store on the free shuttle while I tilted at four loads of laundry. Our plan was to set off again early Friday on our trek north leaving no real time to call our friends Ted and Lauren, sadly missing a chance to meet their new baby.

I had just folded the last towels and sat down to wait for Chip's bus when I looked up to see Ted walking in.

"I think you have one of my socks," he said.

"WHAT?!?!? TED!!!"

We know four people in Vero Beach, and two of them found Chip on the street waiting for the bus in front of Publix -- and they had the baby with them! Adorable.

Lauren was leaving town to visit her family Friday morning, so Ted told us to call if we decided to delay our departure.

Mother Nature gave us a good reason to delay, spewing out squalls all up the coast of Florida. Ted picked us up in a deluge, and we all slogged, dripping wet, into his favorite Italian restaurant, Avanzare.

Ted and Chip laughing at our fortune.

We sat at the bar, and Chip started peppering the bartender with questions about the wine list.

"Let me get Roger," she said.

"I wonder why he looks so familiar," I thought to myself. Roger brought out a great bottle of Gigondas and asked Chip if he used to sell wine in the Outer Banks.

"Hold on, I've got a surprise."

A few minutes later, Roger came out of the kitchen with chef Chuck and his wife Kathleen, who used to own a great restaurant in the Outer Banks where Roger was the bartender. He used to serve us well when we sidled up to his bar after a long day at Chip's Wine & Beer Market. They've all relocated to Vero Beach, unbeknownst to us -- until now.

Kathleen, Chuck, not sure who that guy is, me, Chip and Roger.

DON'T FORGET: Today is the second day of RAFT-UP and time for Jane and Ean on S/V Joy to tell us what hobbies they pursue onboard.

A NO DAY

Vero Beach, FL 27º39.643N | 80º22.325W

We started today, before sunrise, decidedly in the NO, uh uh category.

You remember that anchor that wouldn't grab no matter what yesterday? All NINE times? Well, I went to raise that same anchor in the dark, just before the sun came up, and guess what?

First of all, this whole place seems to be made of mud. Not the brown, slather-on-your-skin-at-the-spa mud. This was black treacle, sludge, Texas tea, coating the anchor chain like it had been dipped in gross, smelly chocolate. (Could this be why they call it 'Cocoa'?)

So, I was up there with a vacuum pump sprayer, spraying every link of all 100 feet. Then, crunch. It stopped. The damnable anchor was now suck hard in the mud. The windlass just spun, no chain coming in, no anchor coming up.

I let out a little chain, and signaled Chip to power us forward to pull up the anchor shaft, standing it up, so it would release from the mud. One more try and a ridiculous Cocoa-covered anchor came up from the depths.

With the anchor onboard, we got underway, but there was a river of black mud, all over the forward deck and along the side rails. It took at least an hour to get it cleaned up.

Just as I was finishing, the engine dropped RPMs. Uh oh. Fuel problem?

We discussed how best to change the fuel filter, either anchoring or putting up sails, killing the engine and doing it underway. The engine decided for us. It stopped before we had sails up.

At least we were in an open spot along the ICW that was perfect for anchoring, better actually, than Cocoa. And as a bonus, I could give that anchor chain -- and the anchor locker a good cleaning.

So, while I was getting rid of black sludge, Chip was de-sludging the Raycor filter. Also in the bonus round, he discovered that the external fuel pump is working (we thought it wasn't).

He had us back in operation in 20 minutes. I, on the other hand, took another 20 to slowly raise that chain, washing it as I went.

Just as I had the anchor above water, the windlass started slipping. It's been so long since that happened, it took me a few minutes to realize it wasn't the windlass failing; it was the clutch slipping (remember the spinning this morning? Clutch loosening.). I dashed below to get the clutch handle, tightened the clutch and, voila. On the road again in under an hour. All systems working perfectly.

We had planned to go from Cocoa, land of the muddy bottom, to Fort Pierce inlet where we intended to head offshore predawn tomorrow.

The pit stop set us back just enough that we couldn't make it that far, so Vero Beach it was. To top off a no, well, maybe no-ish day, we had trouble pulling up to the fuel dock and I scraped my arm on one of shrouds (vertical cables) as I was going forward. Ouch.

Ah well, we got to raft up with Anastasia.

Tomorrow is another day, hopefully a YES day, since we're headed offshore to Palm Beach. Finally, after weeks of bad weather offshore, we have a chance to leave the ICW behind and sail, SAIL, heading southeast with east winds.

SOUTHBOUND AGAIN

Vero Beach, FL 27º39.389N | 80º22.256W

Bridge south of Vero Beach mooring field.

We broke the spell of Vero and headed for Stuart today, a short hop on the way to Lake Worth in Palm Beach, which is where we're headed tomorrow. This leg was so uneventful, I'll take advantage of this opportunity to mention what we've been doing.

Number one: FREEZING. For several nights in a row the temps dropped down into the 20s. I don't know if you ever lived on a boat in the freezing cold, but it's, um, less than comfortable. We bought a small propane heater that runs off of those little camping canisters, and I loved that until I tripped on it and burned my leg. :-| Despite that, it really helps take the edge off the cold.

I didn't know that the cold weather would turn the inside of the boat into a rain forest.

We could watch the drops forming above our heads in the v-berth, and more than once we've had our own version of water torture as the drops fell on us in the night.

According to wikipedia, "the condensing molecules suffer from reduced degrees of freedom and ranges of motion, their prior kinetic energy must be transferred to an absorbing colder entity." The cold certainly reduced our degrees of freedom and ranges of motion! We transferred our energies to Publix and the mall. It's impossible to sit on the boat in the cold all day, so we rode the free bus to town and hung out like hapless teenagers, complete with backpacks.

Number two: Chores. All things pass, and we had a few warmer days to get chores done.

Rig tuning tool.

Tuning the rig had been on our TO DO list since we left home, and this week we finally got to it. The vertical cables that hold the mast in place have to be tensioned appropriately to hold the mast straight and in place.

The tensioner tells you how you're doing.

So does the audience.

We're spending the night at a mooring in Stuart, poised to head out tomorrow to Lake Worth. As soon as the weather cooperates, we hope to make an outside passage -- in the ocean, finally -- to Miami. Stay tuned.

Stuart, FL 27º11.826N | 80º15.682W

Plugging along.

Does the mast look straight?

Reward for chores accomplished.

FILLING THE BILGE

Vero Beach, FL 27º39.389N | 80º22.256W

Bridge south of Vero Beach mooring field.   ©2010 Tammy Kennon

At the end of my cruising days, I expect to return with a bilge full of memories, captivating moments from my floating life. Tonight will be one of them.

First, I must preface this story with a bit of Florida law. Bear with me here.

Most of us cruisers don't have navigation lights on our dinghies, but as we all approached the Florida state line, we began hearing chatter about a Florida law requiring at least one light that can be seen from "all around" and over the heads of the passengers when motoring at night.

The conformers among us bought tall $35 lights from West Marine and officially attached them to our dinghies.

Other (most) cruisers being free spirits, crafty and cheap anarchists have figured all sorts of workarounds. One friend sports two head lamps and turns his head a lot. We know several who jury rigged a PVC pipe to the back of their dinghy and stuck a $4.99 solar light from Kmart in it.

Those of us who are even less inclined to conform for a quick passage through Florida use the ultimate cheap workaround: a $4.99 solar light held overhead by a human.

Tonight we held a reunion of the Thanksgiving kids' table from St. Mary's: Dale & Karen from Jessie Marie and Håkan & Anna from Unicorn. We spoke fondly of the fourth couple Barney & Diane on Sea Gal, who have already crossed to the Bahamas.

Håkan and Anna on the way to Happy Hour.

The six of us gathered for Happy Hour on the other side of the bridge from the Vero Beach mooring field. Under that highway bridge, jutting out about 50 yards, there is a low pedestrian bridge that you have to go around in your dinghy to get to the restaurant. Or do you? The pedestrian bridge has about two feet of clearance underneath. A typical inflatable dinghy stands a little less than two feet above the water -- without passengers sticking up.

As we were leaving the restaurant, Dale says, "Under the bridge, women driving!"

Nova Scotians Dale & Karen

Dale had assured us all that if we dove in the bottom of our dinghies, we could just fit under the bridge, cutting off, not our heads, but the long trip around the low bridge. There are some people in this world that inspire trust, and Dale is one of them. He is a SCUBA diver, a skydiver and a retired Canadian sailor who served in Afghanistan dismantling IEDs -- specializing in underwater explosive devices down to 300 feet. Yeah, he survived all that, so surely he would not lead us to our death under a low-slung, concrete bridge.

Off we went, six people diving at the last minute into the bottom of three dinghies, buzzing toward the bridge.

Our little dinghy parade emerged unscathed, with three women at the helm, motoring through blackness pierced only by three solar lights held high, like so many giggling Statues of Liberty.

Vero Beach, FL 27º39.389N | 80º22.256W

What's Håkan worried about?

That I might publish this dog biscuit photo from Thanksgiving?

THE RAFT-UP

Vero Beach, FL 27º39.389N | 80º22.256W

The moon rafted up with three masts in Vero.   ©2010 Tammy Kennon

As we motored into the mooring field at Vero Beach, a dinghy came speeding up to us bearing two smiling, waving people.

"Where in the Outer Banks?"

It was Al and his daughter Jenny from Ocracoke in the Outer Banks, whose catamaran Sea Jay is rafted up with Ming, the Zen master we followed back in October.

Beautiful Ming.   ©2010 Tammy Kennon

Cara Mia is now rafted up next to Okemah Rose, the boat I photographed in Fernandina Beach in the path of a derelict sailboat dragging anchor.

Two boats ahead of us is Attitude bearing our friend Ray who had his boat three docks down from us back home in Manteo, NC.

On down the way is Jessie Marie waiting for Karen and Dale's return from California. Across the water are Kajon and Glenice, moored together with all our friends onboard.

Today we finally met Captain Neal on Ming. Always the philosopher, when I asked how long he was staying, he captured the allure of this place that many call "Velcro" Beach.

"I don't know how long I'll stay. It's all about the people." 

Vero Beach, FL 27º39.389N | 80º22.256W

Okemah Rose and Cara Mia rafted up.  ©2010 Tammy Kennon

©2010 Tammy Kennon

10 THINGS ABOUT CRUISING...

... THAT MAKE ME FEEL -- or at least seem -- YOUNG

Vero Beach, FL 27º39.389N | 80º22.256W

Me and my backpack talking to other cruisers. We're easy to spot. 

1. Riding a bike
2. Wearing a backpack
3. Walking everywhere I go
4. Puttering around in a small, inflatable boat
5. Wearing sneakers -- almost every day
6. Being younger than 95% of the people around me
7. Knowing less about cruising than 95% of the people around me
8. Learning new things every day
9. Talking to friends on the VHF, a glorified walkie talkie
10. Riding busses

Vero Beach, FL 27º39.389N | 80º22.256W

HAPPY DRIFTING

Vero Beach, FL 27º39.389N | 80º22.256W

Laundry on the dinghy davits.

Cruising life holds many simple pleasures. One of them is the appreciation of clean laundry -- and the realization that the dinghy davits make a great clothesline.

Another is the uncluttered time shared with new friends, like the happy hour drift with Deb & Joe from Kajon.

What's happy hour drift? We didn't know either.

First you raft up your dinghies.

Then you motor -- one of you -- to the far end of the anchorage against the current, turn off the motor and drift, looking at boats, waving at your neighbors, talking and laughing.

Several boaters, including SeaTow, asked us if we needed a tow. We offered to let them raft up with us. They all declined.

Their loss.

Vero Beach, FL 27º39.389N | 80º22.256W

INSPIRATION IN VERO

Melbourne, FL 28º07.349N | 80º37.793W

Lovely cove on the Eau Gallie River in Melbourne.

I expected in our travels to meet older cruisers who inspire us. I did not expect to be related to them.

When we attended the wedding in Jacksonville last month, we met a cousin of Chip's, on his mother's side, who now lives in Vero Beach and made plans to visit on this plod south.

Going ashore is always a treat, but to be picked up in a car and fed a home cooked meal is reason enough for inspiration, but wait! These folks, Varoujan and Rose, now 80, cruised -- yes, on boats -- for 20 years. Real, honest-to-god cruisers that are related to us!

Over dinner, they told us tales of boats and ports and good times afloat. In the beginning, they invested their entire boat budget in a custom-built sailboat, hovering and nurturing it through the building process until just near completion when the builder declared bankruptcy, and the boat was seized by creditors.

Not to be deterred, they started over with a small boat, then bought a hull and built the rest themselves. For 20 years they cruised, on three different sailboats and two trawlers, exploring beautiful places and meeting the awesome people who live on the water.

Once, taking a break from sailing, they were on a cruise ship in the British Virgin Islands when they heard from a cruising couple, cruising friends, who were also in the area but on their own boat. Varoujan and Rose jumped ship and sailed with their friends back to the U.S.

That other couple called a few years ago to say the house next door to them in Vero Beach was for sale. Rose and Varoujan bought it, sight unseen, and live half the year next door to their enduring and endearing cruising friends, now active members of the local group CLOD (Cruisers Living on Dirt).

Hope in the water. Hope after the water. Happiness in Vero Beach.

Chip, Tammy, Rose & Varoujan

Vero Beach, FL 27º39.389N | 80º22.256W