Made it to Marco Island

Birds on the Beach-Marco Island, FL

I thought that I knew what Florida was like.  I had been up and down the east coast by car as far south as Key Largo, and had made a couple of trips around the Orlando area to visit my grandmother and to go flying at Quest air park, so I thought that I had a good grip on the “feel” of Florida before starting out across Mobile Bay from Dog River to travel down the west coast of Florida on the Gulf ICW.  I figured that the coast would all be low and muddy, that there would be plenty of retirement communities and trailer parks, and that the water would be shallow.  I was right about most of those things, but the “feel” of the west coast of Florida is distinctly different than that of the east coast.

The east coast of Florida draws people from the east coast of the northern states, and from other big cities.  It has a big-city feel.  The people remind me of New England.  It is bustling and commercial and filled with traffic.  When I lived in Georgia and used to drive south to visit some of the coastal Florida towns on the weekend I used to think that I could go no farther south than Georgia because once I crossed the Florida border I was back up north again.

The Gulf coast, however, is a bit quieter.  It seems that most of the people who winter over or vacation on the west coast of Florida come from the midwest section of the US, and bring with them their midwest mannerisms, accents, and attitudes.  I feel more likely to randomly strike up a conversation with friendly strangers here on the west coast than out east.  The towns are less bustling and more laid-back, which makes me feel more at ease.  All in all, the west coast has been a very pleasant surprise and I hope to visit again.

Some Floridian details are the same on both coasts to remind me that I am still in Florida, such as the large back-lit street signs, and loads of retirees, or “Q-tips” (for their white hair and white sneakers), as a friend of mine likes to call the seas of oldsters in the Retirement, I mean Sunshine State.

 

This isn’t easy

OK, I didn’t get far on this blog before letting it languish.  I started with all sorts of great intentions and grand visions of daily blog entries filled with humorous, insightful, entertaining, moving, memorable writing.  I had great intentions, but not much of a plan.  I wasn’t sure what exactly it was that I would write about.  I just figured that ideas would come to me out of the blue and make the writing easy.  That didn’t happen.  I just don’t have as much material that I want to share as I thought I would.

I think that a big part of the problem is that I need to be more open.  I am normally very happy keeping my thoughts to myself.  That is exactly the opposite of what I need to do to succeed as a writer!  The best writers seem to open themselves up and pour their being into their work.  I find it very difficult to do that.  It’s not that I don’t have observations, emotions, and stories to tell, it’s just that now that I am presented with an easy way to make my thoughts public I find that I am a more private person than I had realized!

Now that I have learned something new about myself I can begin the process of change.  Sailing into the sunset is easier work than personality reconstruction.  More to come soon…

A Beginning

Cavendysh moored next to Manatee in Dog River

It is fitting that this entry is not the first on this blog.

“Where are you from?”  “How far have you sailed?”  “How far are you going?”  These are the questions that I am asked most frequently when I meet new people.  Everyone wants to know how far I have come on this voyage and how much farther I have to go.  The easy answer is to say that I began in Dunkirk, NY, in the month of October, year 2010.  That is where I set out with the JJ Taylor (Contessa) 26 named Cavendysh with the goal of sailing far enough south that I wouldn’t freeze in during the winter months.  That is the last time that I saw Dunkirk, which is where I bought the boat in the early months of 2010.  It is an arbitrarily chosen beginning, however, because this voyage has been a long time in the making.

I remember when I did a project on the Erie Canal in my sophomore year of high school.  That was when I began to become interested in the canals and rivers that cast their web across the heart of America.  I was 13 years old when I first had my first pang of desire to travel the thin blue lines linking the Atlantic to the Great Lakes, and the Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico.  I could easily say that the beginning of this voyage happened in a school library as I thumbed the pages of an old but barely turned book and looked at the images of engravings of men digging a trench to link the Hudson River with Lake Erie.

Today is the beginning of a new section of this voyage.  Today I leave Dog River and point my bow south and east to Florida.  I don’t quite expect to make it to Pensacola today, but it would be possible.  Cavendysh has salt water beneath her keel and is feeling the effects of tides, but has not yet traveled any significant miles in this environment.  Before I took her on this trip every mile of water that she had ever parted had been fresh.  Her first two owners had kept her on Lake Erie and sailed her during the summer months on the short waves of that shallow basin.  Now she is floating slightly, but noticeably higher.  The scum line that the river left on her topsides where the surface of the water carried small amounts of oil and other staining substances is now slightly above the surface of the Dog River brine.  I have a new set of challenges to meet in the tidal waters of and around the Gulf of Mexico after having become used to the rhythm of river life.

Impressions of Dog River

I don’t really have as many profound thoughts as I thought that I would want to share on this blog, so I will do the one thing that might be of lasting value–document my trip. I will write about what I see and the places that I go. I have seen a side of the US that I hadn’t before experienced on the lakes and rivers that I traveled since leaving Dunkirk, NY three months ago.

Dog River marks my return to salt water after about 1,900 miles of fresh water travel on the Great Lakes and the rivers that bisect the continental US. There are a few marinas here in Dog River, not far from the southern end of the Tenn-Tom/Black Warrior waterway. I needed a break here to catch up on all the work that needed to be done on the boat–work that has been accumulating for the last 1,000 miles.

I am staying at Dog River Marina because it is where Ted from the Manatee has been coming for many years, so I went with the recommendation.  I have Cavendysh tied up alongside the Manatee.  She is used to this arrangement by now, as she was towed this way for about 900 miles down the rivers from St. Louis to here.  On Thanksgiving day we had some bad weather that caused a lot of damage to both boats, so my boat was really looking forward to some R & R–Repair and Refurbishment.

There is a West Marine outlet right here in Dog River Marina, which has been very convenient for buying the supplies that I needed to repair gouges in my hull, a crushed genoa car, and a broken bilge pump.  Tom Dabney, of Dabney Sailmakers, Inc., made me a new port sidestay to replace the one that was crushed in the Thanksgiving Day collision.  Dabney Sailmakers is located only a couple of miles from the marina.  I don’t always find sailmakers in the places that I stop, so having Dabney Sailmakers so close to the marina is a great convenience.  Tom also supplied me with some new tell-tales for my mainsail and beeswax, thread, and needles for my repair kit.

Outside of the convenience for getting things done on the boat, there isn’t much to see or do around here.  A car is necessary to visit town or to run errands like doing food shopping, so it is fortunate that a courtesy car is provided by the marina.  The airport is a 35 minute drive away from the marina.  The good food stores are about a 10 minutes away.  I haven’t visited downtown Mobile because it is so far away.  There are suppliers for just about anything in between  Dog River, which is south of the city, and the city itself, so it isn’t necessary to go downtown.  I haven’t really had the desire to go downtown because when the weather has been nice I have had work to do on the boat, and when the weather has been unpleasant I haven’t wanted to go anywhere.

The weather has been colder than I had hoped, with about 10 freezing mornings since I have been here.  That isn’t anything unusual, though.  It is winter, after all.   I had enough good weather to remove and re-bed the port, forward porthole, which was the leakiest one on the boat.  It was a big project because it had been bedded in polyurethane, which has a tenacious grip and has a big flange, which means that there is a lot of surface area for the glue to hold on.  I eventually managed to remove it using Life-Caulk’s “Release!” solvent, which did a good job of loosening the grip of the adhesive sealant.  I worked the porthole loose over a half-day using wedges and solvent.  It took another day to clean it up and another half of a day to test fit it and bed it.

The river where the marinas are located reminds me a bit of the marshes of Georgia.  The most part of the river is muddy and shallow and bordered by marshes.  The scenery is monotonous, a panorama of green and brown.  That isn’t to say that it is boring, though. There are numerous pelicans, night herons, herons, egrets, and of course seagulls to hold my interest.  The grey trees are festooned with spanish moss.  There are boats coming and going, providing an occasional change in scenery and the possibility of new people to meet.

At the dock at Dog River
At the dock at Dog River

 

New Year, new endeavor

As part of a New Year’s resolution to write more I have decided to start a blog, so here it is.  Why not?  I am sitting inside with a good Internet connection and a bit of time on my hands.  Eve is here to and was instrumental in forcing, er… encouraging me to actually get this thing started.  I have talked about working on a blog for ages.  It was always going to be “someday”.  Now it is a reality.