Boating Goodbye to the Dry Tortugas
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GBa8JzC9nP8
So long Fort Jeff! Thursday
It had been a long night but we had to help the grounded boat. Bob dove down and tied a line to their anchor. For a few considerations, a commercial fishing vessel took the chain rode and drug the boat off the island. Once it was decided the hull was sound, we were relieved to go on our way. We had a quick breakfast of fish cakes and eggs accompanied by Cuban strength coffee.
“Who's in favor of staying another night,” Bob asked the crew as we playfully fished for Barracuda off the stern. It was a question that had to be asked but no one wanted to bring it up. No one voted for another night. “Okay, who wants to head for Key West?” Only 'Hot Tamale' voted yes. “Who wants to head for Fort Myers Beach?” Everyone gave out a low 'yes' and even 'Hot Tamale' agreed after Rico promised her a trip there very soon.
“Well lets not waste any time then,” Ralph said and he hurriedly went onto the bow. He didn't make it. SPLASH, was the biggest clue followed by an embarrassed shout for help. We threw him a life jacket and a dock line. A passing dinghy offered help but we hoisted him aboard with ease. “That non-skid threw me! I told you it was worn out. Useless, that's what it is.” 'Hot Tamale' took pity on him and it changed his tune. “No problem, honey, I'm fine... but we got to get that fixed.”
Bob went up on the fly bridge to start the engines while I went forward to operate the windlass. I was very careful on the way lest the non-skid throws me, too. One of the best devices ever invented for larger boats is the windlass. It's powerful winch can easily pull the boat forward but Bob eased the throttles so the strain was taken off the winch. I did not want to manually pull up the anchor rode and anchor, no way.
I operated the foot switch and removed the two snubbers, which had done their jobs wonderfully. We didn't drag like some. Once the anchor was locked down and everything on the foredeck was checked and rechecked, especially the dinghy, Bob turned her and headed slowly passed the Fort and through the channel. I ate another fish cake then took a big cup of Cuban strength coffee up on the fly bridge before Bob opened her up. A big shaft of sunlight streamed down over the Fort as he throttled up as if to say, 'Come back next year!'
The ride back was a lot rougher than the ride coming down. We intended to get in the lee of the Florida peninsula as soon as possible but NOAA weather radio predicted strong storms near the coast. Wind was from the East or Southeast so the seas were very lumpy.
Hot Tamale became very sea sick, "I'm going to die," she said between bouts. She begged off at the first port of call. We went east of Cape Romano up through Gullivan Bay to drop ' 'Run Aground Ralph', her and Rico at Marco. She had been terribly sea sick for over 3 hours and her color was the same as the faded gel coat she was hanging over. She needed an infusion of water but couldn't keep it down while on the boat.
A taxi would get them to a hospital or back to the Canal before we could.
So long Fort Jeff! Thursday
It had been a long night but we had to help the grounded boat. Bob dove down and tied a line to their anchor. For a few considerations, a commercial fishing vessel took the chain rode and drug the boat off the island. Once it was decided the hull was sound, we were relieved to go on our way. We had a quick breakfast of fish cakes and eggs accompanied by Cuban strength coffee.
“Who's in favor of staying another night,” Bob asked the crew as we playfully fished for Barracuda off the stern. It was a question that had to be asked but no one wanted to bring it up. No one voted for another night. “Okay, who wants to head for Key West?” Only 'Hot Tamale' voted yes. “Who wants to head for Fort Myers Beach?” Everyone gave out a low 'yes' and even 'Hot Tamale' agreed after Rico promised her a trip there very soon.
“Well lets not waste any time then,” Ralph said and he hurriedly went onto the bow. He didn't make it. SPLASH, was the biggest clue followed by an embarrassed shout for help. We threw him a life jacket and a dock line. A passing dinghy offered help but we hoisted him aboard with ease. “That non-skid threw me! I told you it was worn out. Useless, that's what it is.” 'Hot Tamale' took pity on him and it changed his tune. “No problem, honey, I'm fine... but we got to get that fixed.”
Bob went up on the fly bridge to start the engines while I went forward to operate the windlass. I was very careful on the way lest the non-skid throws me, too. One of the best devices ever invented for larger boats is the windlass. It's powerful winch can easily pull the boat forward but Bob eased the throttles so the strain was taken off the winch. I did not want to manually pull up the anchor rode and anchor, no way.
I operated the foot switch and removed the two snubbers, which had done their jobs wonderfully. We didn't drag like some. Once the anchor was locked down and everything on the foredeck was checked and rechecked, especially the dinghy, Bob turned her and headed slowly passed the Fort and through the channel. I ate another fish cake then took a big cup of Cuban strength coffee up on the fly bridge before Bob opened her up. A big shaft of sunlight streamed down over the Fort as he throttled up as if to say, 'Come back next year!'
The ride back was a lot rougher than the ride coming down. We intended to get in the lee of the Florida peninsula as soon as possible but NOAA weather radio predicted strong storms near the coast. Wind was from the East or Southeast so the seas were very lumpy.
Hot Tamale became very sea sick, "I'm going to die," she said between bouts. She begged off at the first port of call. We went east of Cape Romano up through Gullivan Bay to drop ' 'Run Aground Ralph', her and Rico at Marco. She had been terribly sea sick for over 3 hours and her color was the same as the faded gel coat she was hanging over. She needed an infusion of water but couldn't keep it down while on the boat.
A taxi would get them to a hospital or back to the Canal before we could.
In the time honored tradition of
hard ass delivery skippers; first bridge, first beer, Ralph and I
cracked a cold one as we left the Marco River. The music coming from
the Snook Inn serenaded us as we passed and one boater stood up and half raised his arms, palms up to ask, why?
We shrugged our shoulders and returned the gesture. 'Because we have to,' we tried to explain. We hugged the coastline and were hit by several squalls but in-shore was calmer and the ride from the Marco River to the sea buoy at Fort Myers Beach was flat but WET!
Boatguy Ed (boatguiEd@aol.com) is a manufacturer of the worlds BEST anti-fouling bottom paint,www.supershipbottom.com. TWEET me @boatguyed and a corresponding web site is http://www.boatingbyboatguyed.com/........ NEVER, EVER TRY TO BUY HIM A DRINK!
This blog/column is meant for educational purposes only. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Void where prohibited. Some assembly required. Do not read while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment.
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