Posted by Monty
OK, so the grass was growing under our feet. Literally. I could see it on the hull. No way to get a string trimmer down there to trim it, so we decided to take the boat out and let the moving water wash some of it off.
It was time.
We left the mooring in Boot Key Harbor and headed out. Carol was going to do some fishing, so we stopped at Berdine's on the way and bought shrimp, topped off the diesel and dinghy gas tanks, pumped the holding tank, and left for parts unknown. Well, actually, only unknown to us. We were going into the Gulf of Mexico.
Not very far into the Gulf, you understand, but still. We set our sights on Cocoanut Key, a small spit of land where, we had been assured, it would be "deserted". After the constant buzzing of dinghy engines at our mooring, I was ready for some "desert".
It was time.
We left the mooring in Boot Key Harbor and headed out. Carol was going to do some fishing, so we stopped at Berdine's on the way and bought shrimp, topped off the diesel and dinghy gas tanks, pumped the holding tank, and left for parts unknown. Well, actually, only unknown to us. We were going into the Gulf of Mexico.
Not very far into the Gulf, you understand, but still. We set our sights on Cocoanut Key, a small spit of land where, we had been assured, it would be "deserted". After the constant buzzing of dinghy engines at our mooring, I was ready for some "desert".
These are the Seven Mile Bridges. Both of them. The higher of the two is active and the other one, with the section missing, dates back to the days of Mr. Flagler, who originally constructed a railroad that ran the length of the Keys, to Key West, and was later converted to automobile traffic. It was rebuilt many times and eventually replaced with the current version. This is historically significant because this is the bridge that Jimmy Buffett used to get to Key West, about which and where he wrote much of his best music.
Between the two are the power cables that transmit power to the island chain, all the way to Key West. I managed to avoid hitting them, thereby causing a national emergency when the bars in Key West lost power. And also avoiding tons of paperwork from Homeland Security. The thermometer looking thing on the left of the picture is the minimum height under the bridge. Sea Bird stands 58 feet off the water, with a two foot radio antenna above that, so we should be fine.
Clearing the fender way, we make our first foray into the Gulf of Mexico.
As soon as we cleared the channel, we started seeing buoys. These mark the location of crab/lobster pots, depending on where in the ocean you are. In this case, I believe they are fishing for Spiny Lobster or Stone Crab. Either way, they are not something you want to hit, especially while motoring, as the rope can get wrapped around the propeller, causing, at the least, a bit of bother. So I avoided them. A lot.
As soon as we cleared the channel, we started seeing buoys. These mark the location of crab/lobster pots, depending on where in the ocean you are. In this case, I believe they are fishing for Spiny Lobster or Stone Crab. Either way, they are not something you want to hit, especially while motoring, as the rope can get wrapped around the propeller, causing, at the least, a bit of bother. So I avoided them. A lot.
This doesn't really do justice to the amazing number of pots. These must be some prolific creatures to even still be in existence. This scene goes on for mile after mile. There must be some serious stuff going on down there.
This was our destination. Cocoanut Key. It was exactly where the GPS said it would be. If Columbus had used his GPS, he wouldn't have run aground so much. It's in the Great White Heron National Refuge. It says so, right there on my chart.
These are some of the refugees.
It was, as advertised, remote. And peaceful, if you ignored the "cocktail party" sound the birds make.
It was, as advertised, remote. And peaceful, if you ignored the "cocktail party" sound the birds make.
We were the only boat around. So we had the sunset all to ourselves.
After a steak dinner, complete with baked potato and salad, we called it an early night, and did a little stargazing. It's amazing what light pollution robs from us at night.
The next morning we awoke to fog. Not because of the wine from the previous evening's festivities. I can only describe it as "dense". Especially as we had never seen it in this area before. It burned off around noon, so we readied the dinghy for an excursion around the island.
The next morning we awoke to fog. Not because of the wine from the previous evening's festivities. I can only describe it as "dense". Especially as we had never seen it in this area before. It burned off around noon, so we readied the dinghy for an excursion around the island.
The water was crystal clear. We were anchored in seven feet and could easily follow our anchor chain down to the anchor while standing on the deck. We motored around the island and saw Herons, Pelicans, Cormorants, and scared up a couple of rays around four feet across.
Carol, of course, went fishing.
And fished, and fished, and fished.
Until, inevitably, we watched the sun go down. And had grilled chicken, and not grilled fish, for dinner.
As long as I can share these moments, I'll not complain about the protein.
The next morning, amazingly, and unexpectedly, it was foggy again.
As long as I can share these moments, I'll not complain about the protein.
The next morning, amazingly, and unexpectedly, it was foggy again.
After waiting until afternoon for it to clear, we made a run for the harbor, as the winds were forecasted to increase because of a front coming through. We made good progress for a while, until the fog closed in again. I turned on the radar (the first time I had used it in the fog) and slowed to below "ramming" speed. We picked our way through crab pots, Carol on the bow as lookout, and drove around what I thought was a boat on the radar. I had convinced myself it was a false image when Carol said, "here comes the wake from that boat". We never laid eyes on it.
This is the fog bank we came through.
After another successful passage through the Seven Mile Bridge, we were back in Boot Key, where Carol piloted us to another stunning mooring ball maneuver. All were aghast at her prowess behind the wheel.
And so we are back. The plan is to remain here for a couple more weeks and then start meandering back north. We want to see some of the sights that we missed on our mad dash from the cold on the way down. At least this time, if we overrun the weather, it's a waiting game for warmth instead of a panic to outrun the cold.
After another successful passage through the Seven Mile Bridge, we were back in Boot Key, where Carol piloted us to another stunning mooring ball maneuver. All were aghast at her prowess behind the wheel.
And so we are back. The plan is to remain here for a couple more weeks and then start meandering back north. We want to see some of the sights that we missed on our mad dash from the cold on the way down. At least this time, if we overrun the weather, it's a waiting game for warmth instead of a panic to outrun the cold.
