Good on You

Sometimes I wish I was a believer. If I were, at the end of a day like this day, I would raise a glass to what ever Entity it was that I believed in and say, "Good on You."

We coasted away from Elliott Key this morning, sailing off the anchor on a broad reach in a light breeze, headed for the middle of the Bay. Once there, Kintala turned her bow on a deep, deep reach, making the most of the less-than-ten knots of winds ruffling the surface. The preventer rig borrowed from Friend Stephen was the perfect setup for our work today. There were at least four other boats out testing their skill against the wind as well, two of which sailed off of their anchors behind us. We led one of them through the narrow channel through the skinny water dividing the bay, both of us making the best of the breeze with the motors silent.

Once through, Kintala had worked her way close enough to civilization for my phone to be back on the grid. Deb dialed up Mountain Radio on my Pandora and plugged in our totally awesome little ball speaker. The glory of Leslie West ripping through guitar riffs the way guitar riffs were meant to ripped through, echoed across the waters.  We worked wing-on-wing to get a good angle on the channel back into No Name Harbor. The only real mistake I made all day was in getting the sails down as we turned toward the harbor entrance. Kintala is so tender that the perfect sail set for going downwind in 10 knots of true is way to much sail for going into that same wind. Someday I will figure out an elegant way to drop the sails but hell, if I was perfect someone would have to pay me more. The main fell into the lazy jacks and the jib got rolled in eventually. No harm, no foul.

With the hook set we rigged the deck for sitting and sleeping, including fixing the hammock over the foredeck. I settled in with one of Deb's perfectly iced Gin-N-Tonics (she doesn't drink them but she sure knows how to mix them) and watched the world go by. A perfect breeze flowed though the harbor, keeping the bugs at bay and softening the heat of a sun filled day. It was then that I thought a day like this day is just too good to go by without special notice. A nearly full moon was glowing in the sky as the sun faded below the horizon, a last little bit of perfect to an already perfect day. Good enough. I hoisted my glass to this little bit of the cosmos ...

"Good on You."

 

 A  perfect end to the day...

 
Night everyone!

We got boarded ...

... but its not what you think. Yesterday, between the time we set the hook and the rain started, a nice looking trimaran coasted close by so her captain could admire Kintala's vintage racing lines and gleaming teak. Later he set his own hook to ride out the storm (his is the boat in the sunset pic from yesterday) and after that we didn't think much more about him.


This afternoon he came ghosting by again. We starting chatting so he started tacking back and forth behind our stern, clearly an expert sailor. After a half dozen passes or so I suggested he raft up, come aboard, and get a beer. As it turns out Bill is an airplane driver for the US Coast Guard, now under the umbrella of the Department of Homeland Security. He grew up on a sailboat, starting flying when his dad abandoned a circumnavigation in order to run an FBO at an airport. Life long sailor, helicopter and airplane pilot, aircraft mechanic, holder of a 100 ton masters license, some acro time in a Pitts, and he even flew with an old, old friend of mine from my acro days. His airplane history includes Citations, King Airs, Navajos, and the Pitts, airplanes in which I have logged thousands and thousands of hours. Small world, and a really fun visit.

Which, I'm guessing, is not the way most cruisers describe an afternoon spent chatting with a Official from the Department of Homeland Security. He also told us a bit about his work. I'm not a big fan of the militarization of the entire planet or the never ending war that has become the new normal, but Bill is a good guy who goes out after the bad guys. He is welcome on Kintala anytime.

The first part of the day was Deb and I doing some projects on the boat while anchored in a pretty place. I can't say I am a huge fan of being anchored at Elliott Key. We bounced pretty good all night as the dying wind blew 10 to 15 until nearly dawn, due out of our unprotected west. It was quieter come morning but then the power boats starting filtering in for the Sunday on-the-boat day. (NO WAKE marker or not, in my humble opinion anyone who blasts through the middle of a gaggle of anchored boats at full honk should have his big stinking motors filled with cement and handed a pair of oars.) Then the winds picked up again, more weather is moving by, and we are bouncing around once again. We will hang in here for at least one more night, if for no other reason we feel like, after 113 days and nearly 1200 nm, this is the first place were we can clearly claim to have made it to the dream.

Time to go ...

I'm not sure why this happens. Yesterday we woke in No Name Harbor with every intent to get to the store then move the boat outside once again. We got to the store okay, then sort of ran out of motivation and spent another night. This morning we woke up in No Name Harbor and, before I even got out of the berth, knew it was time to get going. Same harbor, same weather, and we have no schedule. But it was time to go. We made a touch and go at the pump-out (never pass up a free pump-out even if the tank is only half full) then sallied forth into the bay.




The winds were perfect for flying both the main and head sail and Kintala settle into a day of close-hauled reaching, tacking back and forth across the Bay. We ran down a ketch rig flying jib and main but couldn't hold tight enough to the wind, particularly when it faded a bit by late morning. They passed us under motor power, but we were content and Kintala kept a good pace. Indeed, the winds picked up again and we ran down the bare poled, motoring ketch just as we reached the ICW cut that gets one through to the southern part of Biscayne Bay, Kintala still flying a full suite of sails with the Wester-Beast lying silent.

Hmmmm...oh yeah. Sails. That''s what those are...

 

I have to admit that, as much as I struggle with this boat sometimes, when it comes to laying down the miles without cranking up an engine, she has few peers in the cruiser world. Not as opulent as some when it comes to living aboard full time maybe, but she is a happy under canvas ... and so are we. In other words it was a very, very, good day of sailing.

Eventually we dropped the hook about a half mile west of Elliott Key. Back in Carlyle I used to think about dropping the hook in the middle of the lake. Not only would that have put the Corps bugs as far away as possible, it just seemed like it would be good practice. My thought was cruisers park in some pretty wide open places sometimes and we should try it out. They do ... we do ... and we should have. Eight miles of open water lies to our west. There is 23 miles of open water to our north, and 55 to our west-south-west. There are boats parked all around us.

Cruisers park in some pretty wide open places sometimes. Our depth meter read 2 feet when we dropped the hook, the tide range in this area is just over a foot, yet most of the boats are much closer to shore than is Kintala. Curious. But we are in clear, warm water so I donned mask and flippers, flopped in the water, and measured the actual distance between the keel and the white sandy bottom. Thirty-eight inches. We have a foot of fudge factor between ZERO on the gage and when Kintala actually bumps. This, me thinks, is a good thing to know.

We may move in closer tomorrow. We may not. Right now there is still this big, shit-eating grin on my face from just flopping in the water and measuring the distance between the keel and white sandy bottom. Try that in Carlyle.

Later the cold front moved through instead of stalling like it was suppose to. A bit of rain backed by the setting sun was more spectacular than worrisome, and it should be a comfortable night. All is well in Kintala land this evening.