Throwback Thursday - The "Why we do this" Series

If asked what the best thing about our nearly six years of cruising was, I would immediately respond, "The Cruising Community." I admit that when we dreamed of doing this, that would not have even hit my radar, but in these years of cruising we have met more life-long friends than we did in the 57 years before. This post captures the very best of it all. And here are photos of the ones who made it possible:

David and Nancy to the right - October 2013

Wayne and Sue on the right - Dec of 2015

The Talking Pumpkin

Posted by TJ

Wednesday October 21, 2015

Halloween was a big deal in the neighborhood; a suburban enclave where our "baby boom" generation was born and lived its early years. Hundreds of kids would go door to door in costume, collecting enough candy to keep a sugar buzz going clean through to the New Year. Houses were in costume as well, some modestly with just a pumpkin on the doorstep and maybe a sheet thrown over small shrub as a welcoming "ghost". Others were more elaborate; family members in full scary makeup and costume, garages and lower levels turned into haunted houses, off-key dirges playing in the background, and lighting to fit the intended theater.

Our house fell somewhere in the middle, but still managed to be the talk of the neighborhood. Each year we would find the biggest pumpkin we could, hollow it out, carve a scary face, and set it in the window by the door. Hidden inside the pumpkin was a dim light to set the scary face aglow, and a speaker. Hidden in the darkened room with microphone in hand was my Dad, the voice of the Talking Pumpkin.

It was a pretty innovative use of technology for the early 1960s, which turned into a kind of neighborhood staple. As the years went by people would drive in to introduce their kids to the Talking Pumpkin, little ones giggling but also looking around, not exactly sure what to make of the mysterious voice.  It was all good fun.

Pops at our eldest daughter's wedding in  2005

On Sunday, October 18^th, 2015, late in the afternoon, the Talking Pumpkin fell silent. The news came via the tiny speaker held in my hand, the voice of Brother Youngest telling me that our Father had passed away suddenly, fallen by a massive heart attack.

Kintala was anchored at the edge of the grid, waiting out some weather. It took more than an hour of broken communications and dropped calls to get the news to Daughters Three. The logistics of finding a safe place to dock the boat for several weeks, then finding our way to PA as quickly as possible, looked to be nightmarish.

But then...

Two years ago, on our first trip down the ICW, the Beast sprung a massive fuel leak forcing us to spend a month in Oriental, NC. We were there over Thanksgiving, our first away from family. Chris and Sherry were also away from family, working to get their own cruising plans together. We shared Thanksgiving dinner at a local eatery that caters to the cruising tribe, and they became some of the earliest of our cruising friends. As it turns out they bought a slip in Oriental but their boat is currently on the hard. Seeing us heading south they had gotten in touch with us once again, enticing us to stop in Oriental with the offer of a free slip and a chance to catch up.

Oriental was a day's sail away when we got the news, and they offered us the slip for as long as we needed. We arrived after a glorious day of sailing to be met by Friends Mizzy and Brian. After a couple of days of buddy boating they had beaten us to Oriental by a few hours and so were on hand to help ease Kintala safely onto the dock. Over dinner that night their gentle conversation and obvious care helped ease our hearts as well.

A week or so ago Friends Nancy and David cut their Seaward 32 loose from Oak Harbor and pointed the bow south, leaving their car behind as they normally do. A car free for us to use if they could work out a way to get it to us, or us to it. So they did. Currently in Hampton and having already made plans to rent a car for a day to do some chores, they left at O-So-Dark-Thirty the next morning and drove to Oriental. After a quick coffee with the Gang from Oak Harbor (Mizzy, Brian, Nancy, David, and us) they loaded us aboard the rental and headed north. At about that same time other members of the Gang from Oak Harbor, Wayne and Sue, themselves just two days away from dropping the lines and sailing off, got in their car and headed south.

The two vehicles met at a truck stop somewhere south of Richmond. Deb and I were handed off for the next leg of this Pony Express of Kindness. By late afternoon we were back at Oak Harbor loading up. Barely 36 hours after picking up Kintala's hook in the remote waters of the Pungo River and unsure of how we were going to get where we needed to be, we were pulling into the driveway of family with all transportation worries behind us.

There are no words big enough or deep enough to describe people who step up like that, utterly careless of their own plans and time; not expecting, indeed rejecting, any idea of getting something in return. They had friends in need and that was all that mattered.

If a person be very lucky in life they will accrue debts like these. Debts that can never be repaid.

Debts that can never be forgotten.

Pops and his brother Gene

We will be away from the boat for a few weeks. Kintala will sit quietly, as will this blog. Fathers die. Sons and Daughters lay them to rest, struggling with a world that is somehow, fundamentally different than it was. Then we look to our own sons and daughters.



And the journey goes on.

Pops and Tim and our eldest daughter at their 50th wedding anniversary in 2004

Throwback Thursday - Favorite Places Series - Foxtown, Bahamas

When we have traveled over the course of our lives, whether in our old VW bus, our various assortment of motorcycles, or on Kintala, we've always tended to visit the places less visited. We aren't the touristy types - we really can't ever imagine ourselves taking a cruise with 3,000 other people - and what we really enjoy the most about traveling is getting to know the local folks and hanging out in their hangouts. One of our most memorable finds was a little dumpy gas station in the rural areas of Maryland near Salisbury. We were on the bikes and traveling down some back roads when we needed a break. We pulled into this little gas station and on going in to pay we discovered that they sold ice cream in the back out of a deep freeze for 25¢ for this huge double decker cone. We went back there several years in a row but it eventually fell the way of so many little country businesses and closed due to a modern gas station opening up nearby.

Our travels on the boat were the same. While the draw for most people visiting Treasure Cay is to spend time in the pool, drinking at the beach bar or sunbathing on the beach, we spent our time in Flo's Cafe, having hillarious conversations with the locals about the state of U.S. politics. Not to say that there's anything wrong with the resort atmosphere, it's just different strokes for different folks.

Foxtown, Bahamas is one of those places that gets skipped by a lot of people. Quite a few cruisers head out from Lake Worth, FL and cross the Bahamas Banks straight for Green Turtle Cay, passing right by Foxtown. Maybe when we transition to a trawler that will be an urge we'll have to fight, that destination urge. But in Kintala we traveled at a leisurely pace, and almost always sailing, so Foxtown was a good stop to make between Great Sale Cay and Crab Cay. The anchorage can be a bit challenging to get into, and is not always the best in rough weather, but it's strewn with these odd large rocks that make it feel a lot like some other places we've been and draws us in.

The town is quite poor and doesn't have much in the way of support services. There are three food shops that are each about 12-foot square and it takes a trip to all three to get everything you need. There's no ice there except for at the bait shop the commercial fishermen use, and the only water available is in five-gallon jugs that you have to haul to the boat, empty, and bring back at $1.00 per gallon. But there's an amazing community of people there, including a whole bunch of kids in the local school that we were able to visit and read one of the children's books I wrote.

While Foxtown fared better than most through Dorian, they had all access to support services cut off by a bridge that washed away. They were trapped there and many had to be evacuated by helicopter because of the lack of access to food, water, and fuel from other parts of Grand Abaco. Our hearts go out to these special people and we hope that once we head back to the water we can go back to visit.

School Day …

Posted by TJ

March 10, 2015

After getting up this morning I made sure my shirt was clean and there were no big stains on my pants. Coffee, breakfast, brush teeth, shave close, generally making myself as presentable as possible. Load up, dink into shore, head down the road. Destination? Fox Town Preparatory school. Once there Deb was introduced to the students in the First / Second grade classroom as an Author from America (which she is), and then she read the class “Mr. Sun and the Super Sleepy Sunday”. After the story she answered questions from the kids and then left a signed copy of the book for their library.

It was the coolest thing we have done since setting out. The children were as polite as could be and nearly as cute as my own grand kids. The Principal and Teachers were friendly, professional, and clearly dedicated to the little ones in their charge. It was a real honor to be a part of their lives for just a little while, and Fox Town is now on our “must visit” list whenever we come this way.


In addition to the school visit we found fruit, milk, and even ICE CREAM while shopping the three small stores in the town. Everyone greeted us with a smile and a wave. A 10 pound block of ice was ours for just $5. The only shortfall was water, 5 gallons cost $6.50 and you had to return the bottle. Since we have a few days left in our tanks we decided to pass on the water, though we are in full conservation mode until finding some place to fill the tanks. (Yes, a water maker would make life easier right now, but this is the first time in 18 months where water on board is a concern.)

Principal Curry with the teacher and assistant.

One more thing about Fox Town. The anchorage is one of the prettiest ones we have been in. It is surrounded by little islands of rock, reminding me of the northeast coast of the US. The water isn't that deep, it is a bit of a dink ride to the dock, and there is enough fetch to make the place a little bumpy when the winds clock up to 20+ out of the east. It is still better than Dinner Key for most wind directions, and Kintala had no problem finding a good place to sit for a few days.

Kintala in the background.

After our school visit there was still enough time in the day to get underway. The plan was to sail to Powell Cay today, roughly 20 NM. The forecast for the Abacos is in a bit of a rut, ENE winds 15 to 20 with seas of 3 to 5 feet. It has been that way for nearly two weeks, and is forecast for the same as far into the future as the forecast goes. So, if one wants to get anywhere, 20 knots and five foot seas is what one gets to go in. Of course, the course to Powell Cay put the wind and waves directly on the bow.

Kintala's crew has gotten used to 5 foot seas breaking over the bow. Kintala herself doesn't mind 5 foot waves breaking over the bow so long as she has enough push to shoulder them aside. Ah, but the WesterBeast... The Beast and I have come to an uneasy kind of truce. I check it every single day we are under way, keep the revs down, and basically treat it like some kind of temperamental VIP who demands all the green M&Ms be taken from the bowl and the bottled water be shipped directly from France. In return the Beast has rumbled along with no complaints. It isn't using any coolant, isn't using any oil, and runs at a constant 178°. (Amazing what a heat exchanger overhaul will do. But hp is not the Beast's forté. It will get us in and out of an anchorage and motor us along, so long as we don't task it with too many 5 foot hills to climb. Insist on that and boat speed will fall by a third in each 5 footer, bringing Kintala to a stop with the third hit in a row. A fourth will have her backing up, Beast or no Beast. Three, four, and even five consecutive hits greeted the bow once we turned on course. Twenty miles is a long, long way in those kinds of conditions.

The medical center in town. My granddaughters would love this!

So the decision was made to abort to Crab Cay instead. Roughly the same heading but half the distance away. An hour or so later it was still nearly half the distance away. The Beast was just no match for the waves, and there was no point of sail that would work to cover the distance, even with multiple tacks. Even it there were, time was running out of the day for making multiple tacks.

Off the wind lay Allan's Pensacola Cay, only four miles away and with an anchorage that would offer some protection for the night. Also a place we skipped last year and wanted to see, so changing destinations yet again was an easy call. Deb turned Kintala off the wind and I spun out the staysail. Where we had been struggling to keep the average speed above 2 knots, now we were making 5+. Definitely an easy call. An added bonus was that the waves were not quite as tight to the bow, though we were still running sluices of water down the toe rail to pour off the side decks. Within two hours the hook was down, the deck set up for the night, and I had a sandwich and cold Rum & Coke in hand – complete with ice.

The colors here are stunning. There is simply no way to capture them on film.

Tomorrow we will try and get a little further east by leaving in the morning before the winds start their daily ramp up. That is the plan anyway.

Kintala swinging in the light wind.

Kacey this one's for you. One of the local bars with the ever-present Kalik sign.

The anchorage at Allen's Pensacola

Throwback Thursday - Favorite Places Series - Old Bahama Bay

It should be noted that Old Bahama Bay in West End, Bahamas is not the same now as it was when we posted this post. A couple of hurricanes trashed the town and a good part of the marina. A fight between brothers (co-owners of the marina) closed most of the docks to travelers by boat. I guess even Paradise isn't immune to that sort of thing. All this being said, it's still one of our favorite places. It's classified as a resort in the Bahamas, but it doesn't have that resort feel that the marinas in Lucaya and Freeport and Nassau have. It still has the charm of the Bahamian people, it's low-key and authentic, not so put on for tourists. Hopefully the brothers will sort things out soon because we will definitely head there next time we head out.

Water spouts in paradise.

Posted by TJ

February 25, 2014

Not too long before we pulled Kintala from Lake Carlyle, and when our plan was still to get to the Keys this year, the Islands maybe next year, I ran across an experienced cruiser who agreed that was a good idea. Not because jumping across the Gulf Stream was too big a task for a neophyte. In fact, he seemed of the opinion that almost every new East Coast cruiser pretty much headed to the Islands right away: it's why they became cruisers in the first place. He also kind of scoffed at the idea that we didn't have enough experience to try such a thing.

"You already did it twice" he said, "how much practice do you need to make a 90 mile sail? Just ask around a bit, and don't go when no one else seems to be going."

No, he felt that going to the Keys first was a good idea simply because, once people get to the Islands, they don't really think much of going anywhere else. In fact, according to him, people get to the Islands, never get any further, never go back, and live a long and happy life.

Just one full day here living on my own boat and I am beginning to understand. And that on a day that saw two thunderstorms roll overhead, each laying down a waterspout within sight of the marina. I didn't see either one, being down in the boat working on a project. Deb saw both, and even managed to get a picture as the second one was starting to peter out. Yet in spite of that introduction this place has me completely charmed.

Part of it is just being here. It is almost like everything that has gone before, all the years in Carlyle, the broken boat challenges, logistics, the endless slog down the ICW, cold front after cold front hammering us at piers and on anchor, the endless effort of living day to day on a sailboat; all of it just melted into the cool, indigo waters of the deep ocean that lay between this place and the States. John (who crossed when we did) and I spent most of the day just smiling, kind of stunned (in the best possible way) that we are no longer working on making the dream come true. The dream is true, we made it happen. That is some pretty strong stuff.

Part of it is that "here" is already feeling different from the States, even if just 90 miles away. The officials in the Customs / Immigration office were dressed in white shirts, boards on their shoulders speaking of some kind of rank (like an airline pilot), and there wasn't a gun in sight. The ambiance of the office was that there was some official papers that had to be completed, but no big deal. Sign here, sign there, you are more than welcome to visit our country.

Compare that to the Office Of Homeland Security. Every single official in that office was dressed in Ninja Black from Hat to Combat Boots. Each was sporting a side arm and hand cuffs. There was no doubt you were in a military area and that, somehow, the ENEMY was close at hand. Indeed, we were there for the sole purpose of proving that we are not, in fact, one of them. In the back of your mind you just knew that if something flagged on their computer screen you would be in some very, very deep kimchi, with little hope of extracting yourself before the turn of the next century.

A country that is not perpetually at war with itself and everyone else on the planet. Novel idea, that. Could it really be true?

The pace of things here is clearly slower. Where I come from 12 hours of work is expected from 8 hours worth of effort, with 4 hours of pay offered in exchange (and grudgingly, at that). So far, I haven't gotten the impression that is the way things work here.


I admit this is only our second day, with yesterday kind of floating by in
a sleep deprived fog. Tomorrow we hope to start moving further east, with a stop planned at a place called Mangrove Key. It should be a few days before Kintala is near a marina again as we start exploring this place where the dream became our life. I'm sure it will turn out to be less than a perfect dream, but so far I don't have any complaints.

Throwback Thursday - Favorite Places Series - Spanish Wells

Spanish Wells

Posted by TJ

April 

Kintala is in the middle of the row

After some debate we decided to relocate to Spanish Wells for a few days. We need some food and some water, and some ice is good as well. The downside is the irritation of someone throwing a mooring ball down in water they don't own, and then charging for the privilege of tying up to it; particularly when the charge is $20 / night for nothing but a place to anchor. Still, Spanish Wells has limited storage for cruiser boats, six fill the place up. So I guess mooring balls help ... but they would help more at $10 / night instead of $20.

Two of our neighbors on a doggie run

We are staying for a few days because (you guessed it) weather is on the way once again. Twenty, maybe 25 knot winds with 5 foot seas on a 5 second period, and all clocking 360 degrees in the next 3 days. There was serious consideration given to spending just one night and then going back down to Royal Harbor for the weather wait, but we are still being conservative newbies. We are here, well protected, and settled in; why not enjoy it?


And the fact is I like this little town. Not nearly as "prettied up" as Hope Town or New Plymouth; Spanish Wells is a working class place. Home to a fishing fleet it also boasts the kind of hard working boatyard that warms this old mechanic's soul. Golf Carts buzz around along with a swarm of 50 and 75cc Japanese motorcycles. Little water taxis come and go and, twice a day, a huge Power Cat Taxi (looking more like a train) finds its way in and out. It is all very human and busy, yet Island friendly with the natives exhibiting a bewildering mix of accents. People born and raised within yards of each other sound like they came from different ends of the English speaking world. It is equal parts strange and delightful. This place just makes me smile, which is probably worth the $20 / day all by itself.

One of the many brightly colored buildings here

Throwback Thursday - Favorite Places Series - Wrightsville Beach

Island time and temp

Posted by TJ

November 22, 2015

The Wrightsville Beach anchorage,Kintala in the second row

The crew of Kintala is struggling to get south, and it seems many of the cruising tribe are sharing our travails. Hurricane Kate and my Father's passing put us weeks behind where we had hoped to be. So we are, once again, caught in late Autumn's relentless series of low pressure areas spinning off the mainland, along with their associated cold fronts. We have been in Wrightsville Beach for nearly a week, and it is starting to feel a lot longer than that. The wind in the rigging sings a note of 20 knots worth of wind out there right now. Near gale force winds are forecast for the next 24 hours. Two potential weather windows have already collapsed, and it looks like two days is about all we are going to get on the back side of this current cold front.

The good news is there are a lot of worse places to get caught than Wrightsville. The bad news is there are a lot of better places as well, places we would much rather be. But, at the moment and living on a sailboat, we can't get to any of them from here.

Wrightsville Beach on a winter day.

We have heard rumors that some of the places we would like to be, parts of the Bahama Islands, are enduring a bit of a crime wave. It seems that fancy, and some not so fancy, fishing type boats (particularly those sporting outboard engines) have taken to disappearing from their docks. They turn up later sans engines and avionics gear. I suspect the rumors are a bit overblown, not that they matter much to us anyway. I can't imagine 30 year old sailboats are much of a temptation. And though Dink theft is a constant concern, a Merc 3.5 hp that can barely get out of its own way on good day, probably isn't much of a temptation either.

Fishermen bundled up

A gaff rigged smaller sailboat out for a rare November warm sail

I have to say though, if the rumors are not overblown, I hope a bunch of the fishing types here in Wrightsville are planning a trip to the Islands. Apparently the fish in these parts are very fast. Blasting through a bunch of anchored boats must be the only way the fishy types can hope to run them down to snag a share. Or maybe they are worried about getting a parking spot at the town dock. Either way, we are regularly rocked as these guys slalom around our hull. Which is weird because both the docks and the bridge that mark the fishing spot they all head for, are barely a few hundred feet away. Slowing down a bit as they go through the anchorage would add, maybe, two or three minutes to their trip. As usual, when it comes to people who live on land, I wonder, “Just what is the hurry?” 

The Islanders, and their “Island time” would make much better use of the boats. So far as I am concerned, they are welcome to them.

One would think a nod to “Island time” would help shrug off a weather delays like the one we are enduring now. And I am trying. But there is a glitch. The Islands have their “time” but they also have their “temperature”. (I think the two are related.) Here the temperature will touch lows of the mid 30s in the next couple of days.

Time to get to the Islands mon.

Wrightsville Beach (Good)                                                             Treasure Cay Beach (Much better)

Throwback Thursday - Favorite Places Series - Green Turtle Cay

Wandering and wondering

Posted by TJ

February 27, 2017

After just 2 nights in Manjack we made a nice little sail to take a mooring ball in the Black Sound side of Green Turtle Cay. A forecast for just a little bit of weather bringing west winds prodded us to bail. When the inbound weather turned up carrying more wind and rain than expected, we decided it was a pretty good move.

Gillum Bay on the Atlantic side of Green Turtle Cay

Green Turtle Cay is another one of our favorite places, the little town of New Plymouth being the quintessential Bahamian burgh. There are a couple of little stores that are well stocked. (We found milk, veggies, and ice-cream all in one store!) It is also a better place to be than on anchor if a boat project doesn't go as planned. A nice “plan B” since we had a couple of small issues to address.

A walk on the beach with our friends Lesley and Hartley from S/V ATSA

A pin hole leak has appeared in the engine exhaust, a patch and clamp should see us back to the States without a hitch. The old GPS that gives our AIS its position information refused to power up. Taking it apart uncovered a spot of corrosion on the power switch inside. It seems to be working now, which is a good thing. Night runs without the AIS can get spooky. The big concern was the water pump leak, which was definitely getting worse. A new seal in the old pump and the old pump installed in place of the new looks to have that problem solved. It appeared that the drive pulley was brushing against the front seal just enough to cause the leak, so please forget everything I said about Jabsco pumps and water leaks. We also tightened up the staysail halyard and life lines, and cleaned at least two layers of grime off the hull.

The ever present single flip flop

When not working on the boat we spend time in town. As is our normal experience in the Abaco Islands the people are open, friendly, and curious. Much to my surprise I discovered they are having their own election, but no one seems to talk about it much. Government here, it seems, has no need to be the center of attention of every news cycle. They don't tweet, spend a lot of money on TV advertising, and don't seem to stoop to the gutter politics that Americans respond to with such enthusiasm. Virtually every Bahamian national we have talked with finds that to be both a puzzle and a disappointment. They want to think better of us, but we are not making it easy. The Customs Agent who checked us in put it this way, "You guys are really embarrassing yourselves."

Beautiful plants and pine needle carpet on the path to another bay

We Americans like to think of ourselves as a good people, better even, than pretty much everyone else on the planet. But we flock to the atrocious, deeply flawed, and petty for leadership; as if the quality of someone's character is utterly irrelevant to the kind of leadership they will provide. This calls into question the quality of our own character, since we find these people acceptable. Well, some of us anyway. There is good reason to think that most of us know better, and tried to avoid having the current resident move into the White House.

Unfortunately the “some” who went the other way may be too many. After all, sometimes, when a person dies, most of their body's functions are still working fine. Its just the lungs that fail, or the kidneys, one little valve in the heart goes bad, or a tiny bit of blood leaks into the brain. Perhaps a few bacteria invade through a minuscule cut  on a finger or toe. In any case something small starts a cascade of failures, and brings about the demise of an otherwise healthy being.

From woods to brilliant turquoise water

It might be that America's body politic will survive this current fever, and I find it easier to be a bit more optimistic from this side of the Gulf Stream. We are among some of the most beautiful islands on the planet, islands filled with folks just going about their business without drama queen theatrics. Most days the sun sparkles on clean water. Both sunrises (of which I see few) and sun sets (those I normally catch) are spectacular reminders of just how much wonder fills this little corner of the cosmos. This is a place that overwhelms huge egos without effort, marking American's latest dalliance with authoritarianism and hubris as childish, petty, and (frankly) pathetic. But there is some hope that this current disease will not overwhelm all of our systems. If we are lucky our body politic will heal and, in the process, pick up a few anti-bodies to help fight off  future infections with similar DNA.

Just in case you get lost on your walk...

In the mean time Kintala pokes her bow in here and there, stops for a few days to hide from some weather or to hang out in a pretty place for a few extra days. Jumping through the Whale will be next, making our way into the southern part of the Abaco Islands. It has been a while since we visited Treasure Cay and Marsh Harbor, and it will be good, healthy even, to see them again.

While not a spectacular photo, it's an important one. It's the last photo that my Fuji S1500 will ever take (after many years of faithful service in the harsh marine environment). I tripped coming into the cockpit after taking it and dropped the camera on the cockpit floor. It was old and needed replaced, it had glue and screws holding it together, but I've lost a good friend.

Throwback Thursday - Favorite Places Series - No Name Harbor and Bill Baggs State Park

Continuing with remembering the best places we've been, No Name Harbor is one of our favorites. I know a lot of people don't like it there because it's so crowded, but we just love to find our anchor spot in the middle of the week and then just wait for the party to start. We think often of the harbor with fondness. Part of the harbor charm is the access to Bill Baggs State Park, so I've included two posts here that cover both the features.

No Name Harbor Pics and Vids

Posted by Deb

February 22, 2015

 Since we're leaving for the Bahamas in the morning I thought I'd use up some of our data to give you full size pics from the last two days and a video. Enjoy!

Miami in the rear view mirror after leaving the Miami Marine Stadium

The little kid sailing class. It was howling 24 kts and these little kids were out in the middle of Biscayne Bay

We tacked back and forth across this charter Beneteau Sense 55. Tim was in love.

The Key Biscayne Yacht Club had their annual gala today. The boats were rafted up 5 deep on the wall at some point.

In all the times we've come to No-Name this is the first time we ever tied up to the wall for a day.

More party pics

Instead of the view from my galley window in a picture, tonight you get a video. 

Bill Baggs Cape Florida State Park Walkabout

Posted by Deb

February 6, 2014

The main reason that we went into No-Name Harbor yesterday was so we could take a hike down to the lighthouse here in the Bill Baggs Cape Florida State Park without worrying about the boat being by itself on the outside. We got up early and headed down the well-shaded walkway along the shore and I have to tell you that this was one of the neatest places we've been to yet. I'm going to let the pictures tell you the story, but if you're interested in learning more about the history of the lighthouse (which is fascinating) you can check out the Wikepedia article on it.

There's wildlife all over the park. I happened to catch this fisherman just as a wave broke on the rocks below him.

The park is extremely well maintained and clean. There are a string of solid concrete fishing piers along the shoreline and picnic areas all around with charcoal grills and clean bathrooms. The place was pretty much wiped off the map by Hurricane Andrew in 1992 so a lot of the stuff is pretty new, including most of the trees. There used to be some non-native pines here but they were all destroyed by Andrew and replaced with native vegetation.

We're nuts about reading history signs. If you don't like them, just ignore. From the point at the South end of Key Biscayne you can see Stiltsville, a group of homes and businesses built on stilts way out in the water during prohibition so that their owners could gamble and drink. You got to love American creativity.

 

The lighthouse has been restored on several occasions. Some of the removed parts are on display at the entrance to the lighthouse part of the park.

The walkway to the lighthouse

 

The lightkeeper's house. No air conditioning back then, and mosquitos that look like something out of Star Trek. They had to sleep under heavy blankets even in the summertime just to keep them from biting. No screens back then either.