Just cruisin' and chillin' in Marathon

So I skipped a few days of blogging to go along with how life has been lately; very laid back. Even the ride up from Key West was like a pleasant walk in the park -- a park with calm seas, light blue water and classical music playing in the background. Captain Ken got me liking Vivaldi, Mozart, Handel and Beethoven a whole lot more on this trip. I do have to say though, the great composers do have the wide open, serene ocean to enhance the whole experience of listening to their music. Not that it's not good music anyway. The ocean and classical music just go together.

Here in Marathon again, we've kind of made ourselves at home. Monday, the day of our arrival, was unusually humid, at least compared to what I've experienced down here. It was a pleasant change from the windy days we've had though, which actually started right back up the next day. The past three days we've seen wind up to 25 knots again. It's made many of the things we want to do, like diving and snorkeling out on the reefs, a little to risky to venture out.

After about six weeks cruising down the coast, we finally put our bare feet in some beach sand today. There really aren't many beaches in the Florida Keys, believe it or not, but there is one on Marathon just at the end of Sister Creek. After taking the dinghy down the creek we dragged it up onto the beach, worked on getting rid of all our strange tan lines, and then took a dip in the cool water. On the ride back we explored some of the quieter creeks off Sister Creek. The mangroves all around us made it easy to pretend we were deep in the Amazon or Congo.

We then spent the evening at the tiki hut in the Marathon marina. After having some pizza, we talked with some locals who are also living on their boats. Perpetual travelers, nomadic sailors, rambling spirits, they were the kind of people you felt like you knew your whole life. They gave us some fresh sweet corn, and homemade chocolate chip and pistachio cake, while we listened to Sublime, Pearl Jam and Bob Marley in the tiki hut. Then we rode back to the boat in the dinghy in the dark of night with boat anchor lights guiding the way and the wind at our backs.

Dinghy expedition on Marathon

Exploring the creeks along Marathon’s islands in the dinghy, as we did today, will be a fond memory of mine for a long time. The islands here are very narrow, like most of the Florida Keys, so I didn’t expect there to be many navigable waters all around us as we went back and forth from the boat to the marina. Sisters Creek, for example, goes all the way from the harbor to the ocean, where it provides access to a beach. A very small island within a half-mile of the beach is accessible by dinghy as well. Needless to say, that’s where we went.  We circumnavigated, but finding no place to come ashore we headed back. It was no more than a half hour to get back to the boat.

Our buddy boater, Michael, headed for Key West today since the weather was fair. We would have gone with him if we hadn’t paid for a week here already. We’re in no rush apparently. If we headed for Key West Monday, we’d still have more than a week to continue exploring and enjoying the keys. 

Rain, rain and then lots of rain

Well, we’ve been hanging out in the Marathon Marina mooring field for a few days and plan to stay here for the rest of the week. Captain Ken bought a new dinghy today, so we spent the day getting that straightened out, picking the dinghy up at the marina, getting it towed back to the boat, putting a motor on it, then riding it back to shore to get lunch with a buddy boater we met along our way. We walked to Keys Fisheries to eat there again, and just towards the end of our meal it started pouring…. and I mean pouring, wind howling, lakes forming around us. We were stuck in the partially-covered restaurant for about two hours and eventually decided to take a taxi back. We then waited at the marina for the rain to stop and headed back to the boat. The forecast calls for rain the next two days. I’m just thankful we’re in a safe harbor. Last night a storm that could have flooded Central Park came through too. 

Captain Ken keeps talking about day trips out on the dinghy, but considering the perpetual eminence of storms like those of last night and today I’d be just as content inside the boat with all the hatches locked. Let the crazies take on those unforgiving waters. Once upon a time I might have said bring on those five-foot waves of treachery, but it seems the fine edges of the salt crystals in the water have weathered my spirit down to a more prudent mariner -- if I could yet claim to be one at all. 

Ocean on one side, Gulf on the other

For the past few days we’ve been in a mooring field off Boot Key in Marathon Shores. The island has the Atlantic Ocean on one side and Florida Bay, which is basically the Gulf of Mexico, on the other side. Today we walked the distance from one side to the other, about a half mile, on our way to get some lunch at Keys Fisheries. All our amenities are at Marathon City Marina, but the boat is at least a half mile from the actual marina so it’s a pretty far dinghy ride to get there.

We plan to stay here for the week, and perhaps take some day trips out to some nearby coral reefs for some snorkeling and scuba diving.

The more we talk to others the more word we hear about how crazy it would be to go to the Bahamas any time soon. On our way down to the keys, we heard on the VHS radio coast guard station that three boats capsized on their way to the Bahamas. That could have been us if we decided to go east across the Gulf Stream in these kinds of winds, which have continued to be around 20 knots. We got thrown around pretty bad on the boat just going south via Hawk Channel.

Be that as it may, I keep hearing people say “the boat can take more than you can”. That’s understandable, considering I got green in the face from just four-foot waves while the boat seemed to just be in its element. It was made for stuff like that. As the expression goes, ‘Harbors are safe place for ships, but ships weren’t made for harbors.’ So the other side of me will always say, heck if Avalon could have made it to the Bahamas so could have I; even if I would have been spending half the voyage with my head hanging over the side of the boat.

Those who do plan to go to the Bahamas, even the most experienced captains here, are waiting about a month for the conditions to be right. Unfortunately we don’t have that kind of time. I need to be back for business reasons, and the boat needs to be north of Florida by June for insurance reasons since that’s when hurricane season starts. By the time we wait for the weather to be right, there just won’t be enough time to make a trip to the Bahamas worthwhile.

So, here we are in the Florida Keys, taking in the benefits of our Plan B. The culture here is very laid back and everything is on “island time”. Captain Ken said the other day that we had a lot of work to do on the boat, and by the time we finished we had worked for about an hour. Down here you can be sure that a man’s word is nothing more than that, and I mean that in a good way. The most stressful day down here would be equivalent to an office party in my life up north. So, I thank God for this chance to enjoy a two-month sabbatical. I hope my friends, family and colleagues back home don't get too jealous. 

Florida Bay just outside Keys Fisheries. Captain Ken photos

Sunset over Marathon

Rough seas and safe harbors

The wind has been relentless over the past few days, about 20 knots on average. It has made for some really choppy seas, about four-foot waves, and tiresome traveling on the ocean. After experiencing the last two days on the open sea, not going to the Bahamas makes more sense. The waves going out there would have been at least five feet, and they'd be clashing with the Gulf Stream. Not to mention, they're calling for isolated thunderstorms for the next week. And on top of that, there's a chance we'd get stuck in the Bahamas waiting for fair weather to return.

On our way from Key Largo to Marathon today, everything from the chairs to the entertainment system were tossed around the boat. If we weren’t struggling to steer the boat with the waves, we were busy strapping things down better. Naturally, I once again got seasick. It was only a four or five hour trip from Key Largo to Marathon, but it was probably the toughest day of travel yet. We decided we’ll be taking the inside route on the way back.

Right now we’re tied to a mooring in Boot Key Harbor. A few courteous boaters on a dinghy back to their boat helped us pick up the mooring by taking the first line and tying it on for us.  Once we were settled in we took a long nap since we hadn’t gotten much sleep the past three nights due to the excessive wind in Dinner Key mooring field and our Key Largo anchorage.

So as enjoyable as the voyage is, it still comes with its challenges. Another challenge is keeping in mind all the new terminology that comes with living on a boat. Here’s a list of nautical terms I had to learn while at sea.

Left – Portside
Right – Starboard
Front of boat – Bow
Back of boat – Stern
Side of boat - Beam
Steering wheel – Helm
Map – Chart
Rope – Line
Shallow water – Skinny water
Island – Key or cay
Sinking – Taking on water
Filling up water tanks – Taking on water
Overturned - Capsized
Yacht – Pleasure vessel
MPH – Knots (or close to it)
Miles – Statute miles
Miles as measured on the sea – Nautical miles ( about 1.2 miles)
Kitchen – Galley
Oven/stove – Range
Window – Hatch
Bedroom – Cabin
Anchor – Windlass
Toilet – Head
Groceries – Provisions

The plan is to stay in Boot Harbor for a few days. It will be a much-needed rest considering the past few days. 

Plan B

There’s a book on the Bahamas from the early 1990’s sitting on the boat. Nautical charts showing the way to little secluded islands, or cays, have teased me for months; they seemed so close yet so far away. Now, as we deal with a “sour season” for crossing over to the Bahamas, the islands seem to be drifting farther and farther. The 10-foot waves reported on the ocean have subsided to two to four feet, occasionally five to eight feet, but there’s still an east-northeast wind clashing with the south-flowing Gulf Stream, which makes for some really treacherous waters. It’s pretty common knowledge to most boaters to never set out to the Bahamas whenever there’s any kind of wind from the north.

I can’t get around the feeling of slight disappointment, should we not get the chance to go to the Bahamas. Over the past few days I’ve been looking for ways to stay positive, despite these eminent change of plans. So here's what I've gathered so far. The Florida Keys have some nice isolated isles of their own, and some really good spots for diving and snorkeling. The keys could offer everything I hoped to experience in the Bahamas. And, the keys are easier as well as cheaper to get to, considering the $300 customs fee boaters have to pay to get access to the islands of the Bahamas. 

For all practical reasons, the Florida Keys are the best place for us to go right now. They’re saying it’s not a good idea to cross the Gulf Stream for at least another week.  Part of me does still want to abandon all reason though, take the risk and dare the unforgiving sea. Captain Ken discourages that foolhardy notion.  We could wait for a week or even more to see if the north wind changes direction, but why do that when we could be enjoying ourselves in the keys instead?

A picture over the sink in the galley has a quote on it reading, “If you’re not living on the edge, you’re taking up space." In one of my first blog posts of this voyage I played with a similar adventurous spirit quoting Spanish poet and religious sister Juana Ines de la Cruz, who said "If men weighed the hazards of the sea, none would embark.’ These proverbial sayings now sound more like wishful thoughts than practical words of wisdom. In a more luck-driven world, everything would go as planned. But as things are in real life, it’s not good to keep high expectations when you’re dependent on Mother Nature and Father Time.


We've spent the past couple days in the Dinner Key mooring field just off of Coconut Grove, and a few miles southwest of our last anchorage off Virginia Key. This is the first time we've  picked up a mooring ball on this voyage, and it proved to be a challenge. After circling around it about five times trying to pick it up, and struggling to keep it from under the boat, we managed to tie the mooring to the stern. But, it has to be at the bow, so we took the dinghy out to untie and retie lines until we gradually got the mooring to the front of the boat.

We've been taking a boat shuttle back to land to get our land legs back for a while. Tomorrow we will get our provisions and Saturday we plan to head south for the Florida Keys, ideally John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park, off Key Largo.