Boating; "You came from Ramrod in that boat?"



Ten years ago or so the original 'Cracker Bob' was in Ramrod Key diving for Florida Lobster when he developed an ear problem. He was in a lot of pain and a little off balance. Bringing his 18' Wahoo 'Offshore' back to Fort Myers Beach was unthinkable even though he'd taken this misnamed boat to Ramrod with his girl.

'CB' asked several employees of the now belated Compass Rose Marina for help. We mulled over the options. The easiest way would have been to rent a new trailer and go pick up the boat. Scott and I decided to go get the boat but not with a trailer.



"You know that water? Why don't we bring it back through the Everglades," Scott asked. It was an enticing idea since I'd never traversed the entire route from Flamingo to the Gulf, especially not in an 18 foot boat. I was familiar with 'Cracker Bob's' latest 'gift' boat. It had a Cathedral bottom that tended to pound in anything but flat seas. But what the hell, there was a size limit (26') on the boat lift over the damn from the salt water to fresh water at Flamingo.

After several phone conversations with 'CB' we formed a plan. We rented a car at the Fort Myers Airport on Saturday morning and drove to Ramrod which just beyond Marathon Key. We met Bob and brought the boat to our motel in Marathon. We planned on an early Sunday morning departure but it didn't work out that way. A well planned pub crawl got in the way.

Forget 'Pot' they should outlaw Yeagermeister. Anyway, we got going about 9:30 in the morning. About two and a half hours too late by my estimate. The run North was over, flat assed, flat water. Not whisper of wind and a hot summer morning but the small boat's motor hummed right along and we were close to East Cape light in three hours.

While digging into the center console I discovered that we didn't have a chart for the entrance to Flaming or the run up the Everglades. I wasn't worried but after we made the right turn towards Flamingo and didn't immediately see it someone on board became concerned and he was driving at that time.

I knew, since I had been through there many times, that we would see Flamingo's antennas miles ahead before we were close. The entrance was well marked.

After a bit we started to see small fishing boats closer to shore. "Let's ask them," he said. They're from Flamingo, I assured him. When we ghosted up to the flats charter fishing boat we nearly frightened them into jumping overboard. "Could you tell us where Flamingo is?"

After the fishing guide composed himself he asked, "Where did you come from?" It was a totally logical question because the only sensible place to come from was Flamingo so why would we need to ask where it was.

We replied, Ramrod Key. "In that boat? You must be nuts!" We started to believe him.

Shortly thereafter we entered Flamingo bay and tied up at the Fuel dock. We had used most of the main tank and one 6 gallon tank running 53 miles across Florida Bay. After a few beers to fortify our resolve and to shake the Yeager we went over the damn.

A good friend, Capt. Manny Lee was the marina manager at that time. He has since moved on and is now writing about his life on the water. See the video.

It took us three hours to run through the slow zones and fishing grounds of Whitewater Bay and the rest. By the time we left Shark River there was a big thunderstorm over top of us but we had no choice and no cover. So we hugged the shore up into Gullivan's Bay and around Goodland and Marco Island.

We were looking for fuel and 2 cycle oil but all the marinas had closed at 5. We did find the oil on the Isle of Capri. It was getting late and we had to go. The weather improved but the seas were still up.

It was getting dark when we started in at Big Carlos Pass on the south end of Fort Myers Beach. The engine died. The primer ball was flat. The pick-up tube had sucked debris from the bottom of the tank and it needed to be cleared. After a few minutes work by my companion, who just happened to be a great mechanic, we were back under way.

We landed at Compass Rose Marin well after nine and plenty happy to make it. No, I wouldn't try it again but I wouldn't give up the memories.

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