Is it all worth it?

Our keel. Hint: It's supposed to all be the color of the
bottom paint (black), without the chunk taken out of it.

Matt finally got a chance to dive on the boat to see the damage caused by the anchor chain during our St. Augustine adventure. This is the unhappy state of the keel. Apparently, the chain wrapped itself around the back of the keel and was acting just like a saw across the fiberglass. Did I mention that this all happened just a couple weeks after we were put back in the water? So we'll have to haul out again and fix it, at a not insignificant cost for the haul out. At least we think that this time on the hard will be more straightforward since we won't have all the projects that appeared during the last haul out. Yeah, what could go wrong?

Conrad finally lost his first top front tooth in a Drumstick. It
wasn't a really hard peanut as he originally thought. (Spanish Wells)

The sinking feeling I got when facing the prospect of another haul-out is one that I have experienced many times since moving aboard a little over a year ago. Even smallish issues can be very frustrating. So you might ask, "Why keep doing this? Is it really worth it?"

Funny thing is, once an issue has been resolved, it fades readily into the background. Although we definitely spend much more money, time, and anxiety on repairs and maintenance than we would like, it all pales in comparison to life overall. Life is pretty darned good. Of course, it's life. So there are downs (kids that don't listen, close quarters in bad weather, bugs and sweat) and ups (new experiences almost daily, oceanside views, mild weather). On balance, we can't complain. It helps to have a Matt on board that has a knack for resolving problems. Also, after a year it seems as if--dare I say it--we're running out of new things to break (but breaking things twice is becoming more common, so we've got that going for us, which is nice).

 

We made yet another friend named "Kyle" (or some

derivation thereof), pictured here with his Dad Chester.

Here's a project that I was able to tackle myself, with Conrad's help. Since Yamaha 2-strokes are the Honda Civic of the Caribbean (meaning they get stolen a lot), we defaced our motor with glittery flowers and hearts hoping that no self-respecting thief would want to touch such a display of girliness. Good thing Matt isn't easily embarrassed.

"Before"

 

"After"

 

We're currently at the north end of Eleuthera making our way south. Unfortunately, we will miss the reportedly big New Year's Eve fireworks show at Spanish Wells.

Great Guana Cay

Every morning in the Abacos, volunteer cruisers and local businesses in the area put on a VHF radio "net" on Channel 68 that provides information to cruisers about events and activities. Just like your favorite radio station, if you listen to it for any length of time, you get to know the personalities of many of the participants. Cheerful Troy from Dive Guana is one of the most helpful contributors, providing information about weather and sea conditions. Nippers' famous Sunday pig roast is another perennial announcement ("Nippers! Nippers! Nippers!"). Both are based on Great Guana Cay, and since we'd never been there before, decided to give it a  try.

 

We took advantage of favorable winds to carry us from Marsh Harbour to Great Guana. We got there quickly and decided that we are becoming spoiled by the near-perfect winds and relatively calm seas that we have been experiencing. We met Troy's charming daughter (we think; she was charming, we're just not positive she's his daughter) at Dive Guana and got to sample Nippers' pig roast (and famous Nippers "orange" drink--several kinds of rum and fruit juices that harmonize into a delicious, albeit costly, frozen concoction that goes down way too easily; Grabbers also has their own version, also delicious). Mark and Conrad had a great time playing with Sebastian and Isabella, whose family was visiting from London and had chartered a catamaran for a couple weeks. They played in Nippers' salt water pool and body surfed in the waves. The boys, Conrad especially, were sad to say goodbye.

 

Even though we have lived on the boat for a year, Nippers was the first spot we have visited that has had a strong resort vibe. The pool, American bar music, and boozing tourists reminded us of some of the tropical vacations we used to take before we moved onto the boat. It was a fun diversion for an afternoon, but too costly (and probably too rough on the liver) to do everyday

We'll try a different anchorage tonight and then make our way back to Marsh Harbour to seek shelter from a cold front that is scheduled to come through on Christmas Eve Day into Christmas.

Shhh...ixnay on the aconbay talk ('cause the pigs might hear)

I'm pretty sure that pigs would be walking around with the cockroaches during a nuclear winter. They are resilient as heck. Just throw them on a deserted, nearly barren tropical island and somehow they find something to eat and a way to spawn. The pigs on No Name Cay, with piglets in tow, came running when they heard our approaching motor, having learned that people in boats bring food. We have heard that they have adapted to eating crabs and decimated the crab populations on some islands. They could tell that Matt loves bacon and gave him a wide berth.

Another thing we have learned in our almost-year of cruising, besides the fact that we don't know nearly as much as we think we do, is that different people experience the same places in very different ways. I guess this shouldn't be such a surprise, but its easy to default into considering only your own perspective. Case in point: North Bimini, in the Bahamas, has been referred to by others as a "dump." Despite the garbage-covered beach and the worn concrete that seems to be the predominant geological feature, earlier this year we marveled about the crystal clear waters, white sands, pastel buildings, and freshly made cracked conch. And this was even after our windlass conked out after picking up an electrical cable while trying to anchor; an event that could otherwise sour one's perspective on a place.  Even though Bimini was our first experience in the Bahamas and the scenery and experiences got better as we went along, I'm pretty sure we still wouldn't call it a dump.

Bimini aside, the rest of our Bahamas season was very nice with beautiful scenery and friendly people.  So we were somewhat taken aback to hear that some more experienced cruisers we had met couldn't stand The Bahamas in general and the Abacos (and Marsh Harbour) in particular. We couldn't really argue with the reasons given, as they were valid and not just petty complaints. It seems that a few bad encounters can leave a negative impression that affects an entire visit. Luckily we came to opposite opinions.  We haven't had anything terrible happen so far, which is not to say it won't (how about that for half-empty!).

Marsh Harbour is one of the more utilitarian Bahamian stopping points. It has stores, restaurants, bars, and yes, even traffic. It is convenient for cruisers but not particularly scenic. We have been here enough times to make it seem familiar. Yet, this visit has been memorable because we continue to meet great people. Matt walked into a local seafood shop looking for free advice about a big amberjack we caught while underway. Even though we weren't buying anything at the moment, the journeyman fisherman/proprietor shared his wealth of knowledge, which included the advice to eat a small bit of the fish the day before consuming the rest to avoid ciguatera poisoning (FYI, the fish was delicious and we didn't die--yea!). Hours later, we had to tear Mark and Conrad away from playing with their very friendly children/nephews/ grandkids that were hanging around the shop because school was out for winter break.

The Bahamas again

We arrived in Bahamian waters on Sunday after a very fast passage and have been making our way down to Marsh Harbour. This is our third time bringing s/v Perry to The Bahamas and it definitely feels more familiar and comfortable than it did that first time.

Christmas on the boat...let's try this again

Last year, we had our first Christmas on the boat but we didn't decorate (or even give gifts until about a week later) because all our stuff was still packed up in a moving/storage pod. With all the boat work delays, Conrad, Mark and I didn't even get to the boat until Christmas Eve. We were still happy to be together but there was a distinct lack of holiday flair.

This year, we broke out our box of ornaments and added some homemade snowflakes and garlands to the mix. No tree, but plenty of gingerbread from our decorating party with the kids from Cascadura. The boys are happy and that's all that matters.

 

With our new anchor chain delivered to us and installed, we were planning to leave Sunday for the Bahamas, if the stars align. We may not have internet for a few days so we'll let you know how it turns out.

Bright shiny objects

Since we arrived a week ago, there has always been something going on in West Palm Beach. This past weekend was the Marathon and accompanying races. Here are some shots from the West Palm Beach Farmer's Market: warm red velvet donuts and chocolate croissants. Need I say more?

 

Jellies and fish made of plastic water bottles.

 

 

Think pets, not bacon. This pig had pink painted toenails.

 

You can rent these near our anchorage.

 



We also went to the Kids' Holiday Fest, which was chock full of crafty holiday activities, bouncy houses and kids performing impressive Capoeira.

 

 

Under where?

 

 

 

We are waiting to hear about getting our anchor chain replaced (it is getting rusty even though it has been used for less than a year; other cruisers who have 10-year old chains aren't seeing much rust so we know something's not right). If we can get the chain delivered here, we will plan to leave for the Bahamas from West Palm. Otherwise, we will have to head down to Ft. Lauderdale at some point. It might be hard to leave this place though.

Not neutering them yet, but...squirrel!

The facilities at the St. Augustine Municipal Marina have numerous signs sternly advising boaters that pets are not allowed in the showers nor allowed on the furniture, underscoring the fact that many cruisers consider their pets to be their children. Of course, kids (at least ours) and pets DO have a lot of similarities. In the small confines of the boat, we have noticed some behaviors that remind us of this. When Mark feels seasick, he refuses to take the 1/2 tablet of Stugeron, even though it helps him feel better, because he hates the taste. So after he refused it even in a spoonful of syrup, I buried it in a piece of cheese and fed it to him. He noticed it and, though he didn't spit it out, refused it the second time. This next time, I had to wheedle him into taking a tablet crushed up into sugar syrup with a cheese chaser.

Just as pets are conditioned to certain sounds, our live aboard kids have Pavlovian responses to some boat noises.  Even from the farthest recesses of the boat, Conrad can hear us reeling in the fishing line and comes running like a cat to the sound of a can opener. "Do we have a fish?!" When we arrive at an anchorage and the kids hear the windlass lowering the anchor, the boys start yelling from inside the boat, "Do we have internet here?" Of course, I check for internet access right after filling out the boat log, so I'm right there with them as well.

Then there's the drinking out of the toilet and chewing on shoes. OK, I'm just joking about that. But getting pee outside of the toilet like they're marking a territory, well...never mind. That's probably just a guy thing.

Disney may bill itself as the happiest place on earth but the folks in West Palm Beach seem pretty happy too. Maybe it is the sunny weather, clean streets, and scenic coastal views. Maybe they're all just well medicated. Either way we like it here.  The only negative is that the free city internet connection doesn't allow the boys to play their favorite Battle Dragons game so they have uttered the phrase, "I don't like this place because the internet is bad" a couple of times. Stated opinions aside, they could have fooled us as they were admiring the intricate Christmas sand sculptures and playing in the numerous fountains.

One of the many sand sculptures around the city.

We went to the "sand tree" lighting. "Sandy" is a very impressive sand sculpture shaped somewhat like a tree and dressed in lights. There were live country music singers and an almost spectacular light show. There was also a  Chick-fil-A food stand, which is apparently a big thing here (we were amused by the overly giddy responses of several people when they noticed the stand; isn't it just a controversial chicken-y McDonalds or are we missing something?).  While Sandy is a unique answer to gigantic Christmas trees everywhere, I don't know whether I'll ever get used to Christmas in a warm place.

Our trip over from St. Augustine was relatively smooth. There was very little wind so we didn't get beat up coming out of the inlet (Kiwi Spirit was leaving at the same time so we tailed the armada going out with him). We motored most of the way but there was enough wind to get some help from the jib for a lot of the 200 nm trip.

At around 2 a.m., probably as soon as Matt fell into a deep sleep, the port engine sputtered and died. The fuel gauge showed that we still had 1/2 a tank left. Matt fiddled with it for about an hour, including switching the tank over in case there was a problem with the fuel and changing the fuel filter when the engine kept conking out. For awhile it would run for a minute or two and then just when we thought it was fixed, it would choke and die again. Just when we thought our engine troubles were behind us.

Finally, without really knowing what ended up solving the problem, Matt got the engine working smoothly again, we completed our trip, and anchored in Lake Worth at around noon on Day 2. The following day, Matt opened up the tank access hatch (which is deeply in the bilge and requires the disassembly of 25 uniquely spaced bolts) to see if there was gunk in it like on the starboard side. That's when he discovered that the tank was utterly empty, contrary to the lying dog of a gauge. The gauge had apparently been stuck on 1/2 full (or 1/2 empty if you're a pessimist). After the engine ran through the diesel, a bunch of air must have gotten into the line, which took awhile to clear and kept the engine from running smoothly until it worked everything out. The bottom line is that we "ran out of gas" in the one tank but that's only because Matt said before we left that we should have enough fuel to get us there. Not that I'm <cough> laying blame or anything.

Have you left your comfort zone today?

At the entrance of an awesome park in St. Augustine: "Travel
the Universe on the wings of your imagination."

Just when Matt and I start to get a little complacent (I mean, it's been ages since we have had the windlass stop working while our anchor was halfway up or down), the universe slaps us right down. After getting beat up just coming in, the anchorage in St. Augustine handed us our ass these last couple of days.

With the 25-40 knot winds and strong opposing current, our usually rock-solid boat was spinning around like a top. We frantically pulled up anchor right in the middle of dinner because we were getting too close to another boat that was responding to the current while we were still being pushed by the wind. As trusty as our anchor is, it apparently doesn't like spinning in circles for hours in strong winds. After re-anchoring, we got progressively closer to the green channel marker and decided to move again. As soon as we started to relax and get ready for bed, the anchor decided to work its way out and then reset again. It did this another couple of times until slack tide, so we got some less than restful sleep until the next tide change.

The next day, the strong winds continued and we spun around and around, with the anchor chain hitting the hull periodically with a resounding "thud" that made us wince. Every now and then, there would be a really loud boom that we were sure was the hull being ripped open and then we would realize that it was just the cannon being fired from the fort. We felt like Sylvester the cartoon cat jumping up to the ceiling and hanging on with his claws.

Then things got worse. There was an extra-loud thud and instead of spinning around, we were stuck in one spot and stopped moving altogether. The anchor chain kept banging against the hull, scraping our newly painted bottom. The anchor line was straight behind us and tight. Worse case was that it was wrapped on the propeller or shaft. The best case was just that it was on the keel, eating up our paint which wasn't that great either. On the plus side, we were stable and not spinning anymore.  We waited a couple hours until slack tide (after unsuccessfully trying to back the boat up at one point) and the chain worked its way loose. Matt's theory is that the anchor chain got wrapped tight around the back edge of  the keel. Testing the theory that a picture is worth a thousand words, here's a  precise, engineer's scale drawing of what he thinks happened (no, I wasn't drinking when I drew it):

 

We raised our anchor (after cutting off a thick rope that had wrapped itself around the anchor chain in a knot of Gordian proportions) and picked up a mooring ball across the harbor. The moorings are actually very reasonable and only $10 more than the cost of parking your dinghy (which is about $10). The marina offers showers, laundry facilities, a lounge, and a launch. We had decided to anchor just on principle (we have mostly anchored and tend to trust our own gear more than random moorings), but in hindsight we really should have just taken a mooring. They are reputable moorings and we could have saved our bottom paint and gotten a better night's sleep. So, we picked up a mooring ball for the first time ever on this boat (and ever for me) and didn't even embarrass ourselves. Here's to the little wins.

 

So here we are on the mooring ball, still spinning but in smaller circles, with the mooring ball hitting our hull every now and then. And we seem so very close to that big catamaran next to us who is spinning around too. But we trusted that they spaced the balls correctly and slept much better last night.

 

This is the 450th Anniversary of St. Augustine. So yeah,

there are a lot of cannons and other old stuff.



We set off on this adventure of living aboard and traveling with kids partly to get out of our comfort zone. Well, we're doing that for sure. And although sometimes when we're in crisis mode I question this path, in the end it helps us appreciate our most modest blessings. That includes a hot shower (though Matt and boys would have had a more relaxing one if a crotchety old cruiser hadn't started yelling at them to hurry up 2 minutes after they started; the same guy proceeded to take 20 paper hand towels from the dispenser to dry himself).

 

This is the one and only entrance to this wonderful and

huge park that is almost impossible to find your way into.

 

Speaking of pushing boundaries, Dr. Stanley Paris is the 76-year old founder of St. Augustine University. His 63' custom yacht is docked here, poised to break the record for circumnavigating the world unassisted (that means no help and no engine). Because he can't run the engines he will get towed to the starting line which is a 1/2 mile offshore.  He was supposed to leave yesterday but postponed until today (perhaps because towing him through the inlet yesterday would have been insane). The whole thing makes our travels seem downright mundane.

 

Tow Boat U.S. to the rescue (that got your attention, didn't it)



The mother of all horseshoe crab shells.

We did receive help from Tow Boat U.S as we approached the entrance to the harbor at St. Augustine, but not in the way you might think.

Our friends on Shambala gave us the idea to call Tow Boat U.S. to give us some local knowledge on the placement of the entrance markers, which are uncharted because they change so much. The representative from Tow Boat U.S. was very helpful and I was mildly surprised because if you think about it, they're cutting into their own business. But they're earning karma and as Matt said, especially in todays weather, it would become a case of salvage work instead of a tow if we had run aground.
 
There was a small-craft advisory today, which was the cue for our heavy boat to depart St. Marys. We pulled up anchor in the dark and had a fast if lumpy sail to St. Augustine. The most challenging parts of the day involved leaving St. Marys and entering St. Augustine. The inlet to St. Marys was extra bouncy due to the mix of strong wind and current. A few kitchen implements went flying and we almost lost a 5-gallon bucket filled with rainwater that we left up on the side deck. However, and more importantly, we saved the remainder of Mark's birthday cake from destruction.
 
We thought the worst was over and then we got to the entrance of St. Augustine. It made our exit from St. Marys seem mild. For a brief period, our boat spun so far from side to side that it felt like a ride at the amusement park. Catamarans don't generally heel but they do sometimes corkscrew around like an unstable top--especially on the ten foot waves that had built up over the day. Matt's big red Craftsman tool chest fell over, which Conrad kindly screamed to let us know, but it was too chaotic for us to do anything about it. Since the entrance is uncharted, in addition to steering the boat in the washing machine waves, we had to look for the markers. They are there, but you can't see the next set until you are almost to the current set, at least when they are obscured by large waves and you're looking directly into the setting Fall sun. It's a tense way to navigate because you're not actually sure that you will see the next markers in time. If you've ever driven on a curvy, narrow mountain road in the fog when a car could be coming around the corner at you with seconds to react, you have an idea of the feeling.
 
But all in all, it was a good day.  We arrived in St. Augustine safely. Nothing is broken, no one is hurt and it's getting warmer. And as a bonus to the ever-present dolphins, we had a huge leatherback turtle swam right past our boat.  We'll wait here for a couple of days and hope for some NW winds to develop to push us down to Stuart.

Thanksgiving in St. Marys, Georgia

 

We generally love living aboard, but being away from family and friends can be hard. Holidays have a way of bringing those feelings front and center. This Thanksgiving, even though we're apart from family, we are fortunate to be spending time with cruisers from all over.

Every year, the small town of St. Marys, with the proprietors of the Riverview Hotel as the driving force, opens its arms to cruisers who are Thanksgiving orphans. Volunteer townsfolk cook turkey and ham and cruisers bring the side dishes. In addition to the big feast, there are activities every day leading up to Thanksgiving. Locals give rides to the grocery store, propane shop and the laundry. The food is great and the company is even better. Man, can some of these cruisers cook.

The Oyster Roast. We have never had oysters this way

and they were fresh and amazingly delicious.

 

Although cruisers come in all shapes and sizes, there is definitely a common bond among most of us. Another great aspect of a gathering of cruisers is that you're bound to see some familiar boats and people. We got to reconnect and spend time with Shambala, a boat with two kids similar in age to ours that we first met in the Bahamas in the Spring. It is still a rare enough occurrence for us to meet other kid boats (let alone kids of the same age) for it to be a reason for celebration. We had a great time with them. That alone was worth the price of admission (I mean that metaphorically; there's no actual admission fee other than a side dish), even if it means  braving sub-freezing temperatures overnight with no heat (yes, there was ice on the decks again this morning). I know, join the club.

 

 

The winds are favorable tomorrow for the 10-hour sail to St. Augustine. With so little daylight now, we'll be pulling up anchor at zero dark thirty to get a jump on the distance. We'll probably stop there for a couple days before continuing on south in search of warmth (at this point, we'll settle for the absence of ice).

Cumberland Island, Georgia

 

Cumberland Island is an otherworldly place that is accessible only by boat (there are ferries that service this National Seashore). The forest is green with enormous ground palms and hanging mosses.  Matt and I kept expecting dinosaurs or Sleestaks to appear around the next bend. Park Ranger Rene Noe gave one of the best tours we have ever had, punctuating her talk with tidbits gained from her many years of living on the island as a ranger. She included a memorable dramatic re-enactment of the meeting between James Oglethorpe and Chief Tomochichi, enlisting half of our tour group. We learned that most of Cumberland Island was owned privately by the Carnegies for a long time and a few of the Carnegie descendants still own property on the island.

 

One of the island's main features is the population of (now) wild horses, including descendants of the ones that Mrs. Carnegie had released from their stables upon her death. A couple of the horses wandered over while we were on the tour. These horses, who were curious about an oblivious Mark as he sat poking at an ant hill, are walking away in the shot above. At the ranger's request, we yelled at Mark, "Don't move!" He did a good job of staying still until the horses wandered off and when they were a safe distance away, the ranger clapped her hands to startle them off. She mentioned afterwards that the one horse had bit a foal recently (which died as a result). Okay, Mark, stay over here with us please.

Hmm, what's that thing?

Remains of the Carnegie Dungeness Mansion, destroyed by fire.

After spending a couple of weeks on the hard and then some sunny but cool days in Charleston, with some choppy overnight sails thrown in the mix, the last couple of warm days here has been a welcome respite. Cruisers are starting to gather in the area for the Cruisers Thanksgiving at St. Marys, which we plan to attend. As a result, we have had the chance to talk to a lot of nice people, like this well-traveled sailing couple that we initially met in Charleston.  The next few days are forecasted to be very windy, followed by a couple of days of rain.  As a result we may not be able to get off the boat much.  Let the cabin fever begin.

 

Charleston, the Fall Installment

Back in Charleston.  Back in the fountain.  In November.  Silly boys.

Matt mentioned several times that our trip from Beaufort, North Carolina, to Charleston should be windless, smooth and flat. So of course it was like a washing machine (Matt's reading over my shoulder and saying it wasn't that bad, but he's wrong), and we all felt sick for the first half of Day 1. He has a knack for saying, "If this wind holds, we'll be in __________ by _______" and then having the wind promptly die. But the seas calmed down and the rest of our motor-sail (mostly motor) was pleasant.

We saw a lot of dolphin and since we didn't try to take any pictures (they usually vanish when we get the camera), they stayed around for a long time. They were probably hunting all the little tunny running about. We caught five good-sized ones in less than an hour and then gave up fishing. We weren't sure whether or not the little tunny were good to eat but we kept one because it had gotten a hook through the eye and was done for anyway. We learned later that most people won't eat them but some people say that if you soak them in milk for a gazillion hours, and you don't eat anything else while they are soaking, you'll probably be hungry enough where they might be palatable. I was the only one to eat the one that Matt teriyaki-d, but it didn't go to waste.  The fishy smell from cooking it hung around for the next 2 days to further reinforce our decision not to keep them anymore.

Overnight, the moon was bright enough to read by and we enjoyed the balmy weather. I never look forward to the overnight passages but then end up really enjoying the peace. Matt and I both watched Pitch Perfect again, which has become our passage movie. Just try watching that movie and not getting one of the songs stuck in your head, even if the music is not your cup of tea.

It's fun seeing Charleston in a different season. School's back in session so there were a lot more college students walking around and fewer tourists. The boys had the fountain all to themselves and got a bath, of sorts, to boot. Now we're off to Cumberland Island in Florida.