Always good...

Departing Daytona Marina's fuel dock

There is something unnerving about easing Kintala around multi-million dollar mega yachts. Like most older sailboats she is cumbersome in tight places, doesn't back very well, and is easily pushed around by the wind. One doesn't really helm the boat so much as give it suggestions. Sometimes she listens. Sometimes she doesn't. Fortunately this morning the boat and I were reading from the same page. We backed off the dock with stern swinging toward a big dollar sport fishing boat and the bow tracking past the bow of the mega-mega yacht that acted as our wind break for the last week. As we cleared the end of the dock shifting to neutral allowed the wind to push the bow exactly as I had hoped while we slowed. A bump of forward with a touch of rudder, and Kintala burbled out of the alley, tracked the length of her mega dock mate, and then settled with little ado at the diesel / gas / water / pump out dock.

It is always a delight when things work out just like they were planned.

With all the consumables topped off it came time to head south, for real this time. Turning onto the ICW the jib rolled out into the north wind while the hull rode the ebb tide. For the first time in so long that neither Deb nor I can remember the last time, the Beast was reduced to being nothing but a chunk of silent ballast hiding under the companionway steps. Ye 'ol Tartan wafted quietly downwind, dolphins gliding by both port and starboard now and again to nod their approval. The only downer on the day was the short distance we needed to cover, just 13 nm to anchor up behind Chicken Island.

Titusville would be the normal first day's stop out of Daytona but, as has become the norm, weather is the concern. The professional weather gurus are not sure what the low spinning up south and west of us has in mind. It could get pretty ugly, or not. Chicken Island (the perfect name for what we are doing) is a much better place to sit out big north and north-west winds than is Titusville. We may move tomorrow, we may not. But we are feeling pretty good about the day's choices since, less than an hour after the hook went down, the rains came.

It is always a delight when things work out.

Though the Islands are out of our reach this year, the feeling on board, amplified by a most excellent couple of hours of sailing, is that we are “on our way” once again. Our next “need to be someplace” is months away. All planning is being done without an immediate goal in mind. Move when it is good to move. Sit when it is good to sit. Live. Enjoy, Repeat.

It is always ...

Rainbow spaghetti

Coloring books are not what I remembered. Grand Daughters M and C, Grand Son M, and I were trading markers back and forth, putting color to the intricate design of swooping and overlapping lines that filled the page. Faces pinched in concentration gave display to the challenge of tracing the twisting paths, each of us laughing when one of us “got lost”. The normal routine for the last few days would have seen us all in the pool or on the beach. But pale mid-western winter complexions needed a break from the Florida sun, so we were spending a few hours playing indoors.

Outdoors lay Ocean, beach, heated pool, hot tub, and shuffle board, all amenities put to good use as the week unfolded. It was the first time Kintala's crew had been consistently off the boat since...well, its been a few months anyway. Though we did return to our v-berth each evening for sleeping, each day saw us joining the family at the beach, morning coffee still in hand. The Ocean was the main draw, but the chilly water temperature and surf reduced ocean play to mostly wading. Grand Daughter EB (youngest at just over a year old) was fearless, doing the toddler stomp due east until the wavelets broke over her knees. Mom was always at hand to make sure all was well, since the usual result of such boldness was landing on hands and knees, little face close to the Atlantic waters. As soon as she was on her feet she would set out for Europe once again. 
 

Wrestling with grandkids makes a great day

We also spent hours in the pool where Grand Son G went from barely getting wet on the steps on day one, to clinging hard to the sides on day two, to paddling happily across the pool by day four. Grand Daughter C (the oldest) was shy about getting her head wet, at first. By week's end she was jumping into the deep end and staying under water as long as she could manage. Each of the kids, in the way that kids do, got a little bolder as they pushed their fears back, making their way in the world. I try not to think about how many more little one's fears they will have bested by the time we see them again.

The temporary intersection of being boat gypsies and resort vacationers was interesting. I think it fair to say that we live a bit “raw” as boat gypsies. Sleep is often interrupted. (Last night we were on deck at 0400 resetting the fenders as the winds shifted.) We adjust for the temperature by adding or shedding sweat shirts, long sleeves, and shoes. Weather discussions are frequent and often detailed, getting it wrong means more than just not having the umbrella at hand should it rain. Now that the much anticipated time with family is over, nearly 700 miles lie between us and where we need to be by early spring. A good many of those miles are waters Kintala has never passed through before. By any comparison with resort vacationing, it is sure to be an adventure. Not all that different from toddler stomping eastbound into the waves.

A fog bow over the beach

When we do see family again, all of the kids will have learned new skills, found new places to explore, and learned some new lessons. Each will have experienced the tangled up, interwoven ribbons of living, will have pushed some back fears, and managed to overcome challenges unexpected. There will have been moments when they felt lost, but eventually picked up the trail and sorted things out. They will have stories of rainbow spaghetti.

And so will we.

Kintala on the dock at Daytona Marina

Better than the glossies

Kintala is in Daytona and on the  dock for a week, waiting the arrival of Daughter Middle and family. They have only seen the boat once, and that was several years ago. I am sure the visit is going to count as among the best of times, but I fear they are not going to find our Tartan to be too impressive. For, you see, lying parallel to our 42 foot sailboat, just across the dock, is a boat so big that Kintala looks like its tender. Sitting here at the salon table, looking up through the hatch in the overhead, and I am looking up, way up, at her flying bridge. It sits about two thirds of the way up our 60 foot mast. It looks, for all the world, like we are parked in the middle of a major city looking up at a building.

Not only is this as close as we have ever been tied to a mega yacht, this is the most protected dock we have ever been on. Fifty knots worth of wind could blow through this place and we would barely feel it. Total fetch is about 60 feet, with mega boats blocking one side and the Florida peninsula blocking the other. And you can believe that I crept into here with all of the skill I could muster, not wanting to even imagine how embarrassing it would be to bounce off of something like that thing.

Even though we had a reservation, we were a little unsure of the reception as we turned down the channel. Once upon a time in my other life I flew a corporate jet for a living. It was a little corporate jet, and when we pulled into a place full of big corporate jets they would often park us out in the back 40, maybe send a golf cart out to pick up the luggage. After all, we were only going to buy a couple of thousand bucks worth of fuel. Peanuts compared to that flowing into the G-Vs, Falcons, and Challengers. I'll bet there were times when the catering bill on one of those things was bigger than the fuel bill on the Citation. So really, what are the chances that my tired old sailboat is going to garner much attention in a place like this?

Well, it turns out when the “place like this” is the Daytona Marina and Boat Yard, the chances are pretty good. Dock Master Dave met us at the pump out dock, where we pulled up right behind another mega yacht. He was laughing and friendly, catching our lines and handing the poop hose over the life line. Then he walked us down the dock to show us where we would be spending the week. It is pretty much the Number One spot to be, just steps away from the facilities, and the facilities are some of the nicest we have seen. In fact we are parked bow on to the boat that he lives in. The Dock Master is our next door neighbor, and he even had some nice things to say about our Tartan. (I think he really meant them!) And before you ask, the price isn't even scary.

The kids are not even here yet, and it is already a visit worth remembering. Even better, the motor sail from Titusville was about as nice a motor sail as one can have. After three days of relentless rain the sun came out. By mid afternoon I was down to wearing just a t-shirt and jeans, the first time that has happened in weeks.

The Haulover Canal. Deb's least favorite place. An opening bridge and dozens of fishing boats parked in the
middle of the channel. Pin ball anyone???

So here we are, as far north as Kintala is likely to be for the next year or more, waiting for family, in an interesting place, and being treated a bit like boating royalty. Sometimes living this way is even better than it looks in the glossies.

Our sunrise this morning in Titusville

 

One of the joys of sailing Kintala. The staysail sheeted inside the stays with the lazy
sheet used as a barber hauler. You can sail this configuration 25° off the wind.

 

Some Vero Beach Catch-up pictures

The live oak trees in Vero are amazing. They are like something out of The Lord of The Rings movies. This is a
single branch dipping down from the main tree. I took this picture because my grandkids would love to sit on this
one and even the littlest could reach it!

Deceiving picture. Looks like a warm sunny day but it was actually pretty chilly. Still wearing foulie jackets
and sweatshirts at this point.

This guy was supposed to be in the picture above, but he departed early. When I
finally got him perched on the railing he let me know in no uncertain terms what
he felt about being in a picture. I think it was the same bird that tried to steal
Tim's ice cream right out of his hand the day before.

 

This is a terrible quality picture, but it was the first pink flamingos I've ever seen live outside of a zoo.
The picture was taken from 1/4 mile away with my camera zoomed all the way out and then cropped
so that's the reason for the lousy quality.

 

View out my galley window as we got ready to leave Titusville this morning

 

Another interesting water flow picture. The patterns in the water as it rolls away from the boat are amazing to watch.

Dolphins and pelicans

Much as we prefer ocean sailing to ICW motoring, we are learning to use the ICW to our advantage. It turns out a winter passage in a small boat down the east coast of the US is not a trivial thing. That is still the North Atlantic out there and, as our friend John puts it in his new book, it is a serious ocean. Cold front after cold front has hammered over us in the past two months. Boats have been damaged off shore during passage and inland on the dock. When the nasties blow out of the north east this entire coast is one, long, lee shore. Picking the wrong weather window with a plan of staying close in to go inlet to inlet is a sure way to get taught a scary lesson. So far Kintala is undamaged and her crew unscathed. We have dipped into the jar of luck, but mostly we have been cautious, conservative, and tried hard to have every decision be the safest one we could find. It is working so far. I think we’ll stick to it.

The anchorage here in Daytona is reported as “4 Star”. Kintala is the only boat here and we just got rolled on our ear by a big power yacht busting down the ICW at full honk. I’m not sure we are going to like this place enough to spend more than one night here. I’d like to visit Daytona a little, but maybe Bike Week in March, northbound, would be better timing.

Pictures of Bike Week always include cute little things walking around nearly naked … that means it must be warm then, right? Tomorrow is supposed to be warm. If it works out that way we might use the day to try and chase the sunshine south a bit further. Florida It might be. Daytona it might be as well. But today was another watch cap and heavy coat day. A long, luxurious, hot shower after the hook was set in a cold drizzle was a treat. (You know you are getting to be a sailor when a “long hot shower” happens in about half the time it takes for Mick Jagger to sing his Sympathy for the Devil.) And though we are using the ICW as it should be used, it is still the ICW. About all we saw today was an endless line of really big houses. A lone dolphin did drop by, startling both of us by snorting “hello” just off the starboard cockpit without giving notice. (I think they do that on purpose, getting a giggle when the silly humans jump.) The water was too murky to see him coming, but he tagged along for a few minutes, keeping easy station with Kintala’s placid 6 knot pace. And there were pelicans as well.

Dolphins and pelicans … no day can be too bad a day when there are dolphins and pelicans about, and you are watching them from the cockpit of a sailboat.

No way to capture the whole back yard. It looked like the water feature at some zoo

I kid you not, custom matched lawn furniture and boat cover