Voyages of Surprise: Michael this cockpit isn’t big enough for the both of us

Monday, April 20, 2009, Panama City Marina

Sea buoy to sea buoy in 31 hours. I forget what I write so it is easier to repeat myself that to go back and look things up. It must be an age thing. We were not able to stay in Clearwater on Friday night because of a big fishing tournament, so we camped out at Treasure Island Yacht Club.

After a thorough checking of the weather early Saturday morning, we make the “go” decision. We are out of the yacht club around 7:30 and headed up the ditch to Clearwater. Five bascule bridges later, we pull thru the pass at Clearwater at 10:00 for a course of 309 degrees and 175 miles to Cape San Blas. The wind is right on our stern and we veer off about 10 degrees north to make the sails fill. Being off by that amount doesn’t concern us since the winds are supposed to clock to the south. As the day goes on, we will be able to correct back to our course. What was I thinking! I know better than to trust NOAA (National Weather)! The winds move around to the northeast and then north, dying the whole time. Actually, they are doing exactly what Sailflow.com said they would do. We roll in the jib and pull the main in tight to stop any roll. That was pretty much the tack until mid morning on Sunday. Because of the wind and the sea, we get a nice drone of the engine and a comfortable trip. Around mid morning, the winds shift back to the southeast and start to pick up force slowly. All of the models showed the winds out of the south by this point and blowing 10 to 15. Because of the direction, we still aren’t able to use the sails to help us any. We turn the corner at Cape San Blas around 12:00 for the next 45-mile leg. Then a miracle occurs as we turn to get a little more wind angle the wind shifts a little more south and we still have it on our stern. Oh yes, did I mention the waves. Five footers by this time. Because they are on our stern, it is sill a semi-comfortable ride. Looks like about the same waves we were pounding into going south. We say a little prayer of thanks for the semi-comfortable ride. We are watching the front develop to the west on the satellite weather system and we can be either go to Port St Joe or Panama City based on the weather system. I check again about the point we would have to make the turn to Port St Joe and based on what we are seeing looks like the storms won’t get to Panama City until we are snug in the harbor. Actually, we never had any of the storms here.

You remember my docking experience in Florida where I did the perfect maneuvers and impressed everyone. You should never brag, it will come back and haunt you later. The docking maneuver here took 3 of us on the boat and 4 people on the dock plus hanging the anchor on about 3 different piles with a lot of screaming, yelling. I was damn glad for those 4 people on the dock.

Michael was a tremendous help with the trip. We alternated 3 hour watches. He would be in control of the boat for 3 hours while I napped and then we would swap. During the night, both of us were on deck sleeping (if you can call it that) in the cockpit. Carole was chief cook and alternate watch stander so at least two people were on deck all of the time. When Carole was available, Michael or I would go below to get our nap. It looked like Michael and I weren’t on speaking terms, since as soon as one of us would come on deck the other one would get up and leave. It was like the old western movies “Michael this cockpit isn’t big enough for the both of us”.

Good hot showers and cold beer (not in that order) made us a feel better. I got a good 10 hours of sleep in lieu of my normal 7 and now we have to start looking for the weather window for the next leg. It ain’t going to be today.

Carole’s Comments

Compared to the trip down back at the first of March, this one was much easier. But I can’t say it is the most fun of anything to do. It is very much like any long car trip on the interstate. The monotony of this trip comes from the lack of a change of scenery. I get very interested when a plastic jug floats by and we have conversation of what it could be, trash? A fish jug gone missing? Of course, the occasional dolphins visit is truly fun. The real highlight of the first day was the little bird that joined us. It was a little brown finch in need of a tree. The winds had been howling back in Clearwater from the east so we figured it had been blown off shore. It was so happy to have something to land on that it was quite friendly. I should have gotten a picture of it hopping around on Bob. It settled down tucked in beside me. Bob said it knew who the mom was. Bob told us by the next day it would be gone or dead and unfortunately, it was the latter. At least it had some rest. When night came that is when it really gets different. It was dark, no moon but the stars were out and fun to see. All you could see in front of you was the anchor. I told Michael the night is disconcerting to me because I couldn’t see anything. He made the astute observation that well there wasn’t anything to see after all but it is comforting to see it. Imagine driving down the interstate at night and you can’t see. Of course, we have radar and we know if anything is out there for 24 miles. We did encounter a boat in the middle of nothing that necessitated we actually had to change course. I will let Michael tell that story. Well, we made it just fine but I will say that passages are not my favorite part of sailing. It just has to be done to go anywhere. We are heading home. We have been gone a while, we have seen many sights and had some good times. Bob and I are still talking to each other but it sure is good to have Michael here to give us somebody else!

Log Supplemental, Crewman Michael:

Apparently, I have a bizarre propensity to find the one other boat in the middle of Gulf of Mexico and run directly for her. On my last western passage of the gulf aboard the Sea Cloud in the middle of the night the captain, Tony, and I spotted a distant light on the horizon. As we approached the light, we had no radar contact and assumed it a weather buoy. The closer we got we questioned our assumption and once within visual range we were able to see that we were about to pass within 50 ft of a commercial fishing vessel. At that point, the radar finally made contact in time to sound collision. A quick change of course averted disaster. While on this crossing, we avoided a collision alarm but shadiness abounded.

Shortly before sunset, we spotted the boat on the horizon directly ahead. Dad went below as the sun lowered into the western horizon leaving me at the helm with Mom as my most excellent deck companion. Radar made contact and I began tracking the boat. It appeared to be a commercial shrimp boat circling in a very small area at about 2.0 knots. As we approached, the boat stopped and I decided to pass in front of her to avoid her nets. The captain of the Padre hailed us to say hello as we crossed about 50 ft of her bow. A friendly sort of fellow wishing us a good evening, he was quickly called away by the hail of the Carole Anne. It was the later events that got shady. I pointed out to Mom that it was odd that the Padre would be that far out at sundown without her nets out just circling around. Mom pointed out that the captain appeared to be alone on the vessel. Then it all clicked for me and I decided that it had to be a drug runner waiting for a delivery from the mysterious Carole Anne that was apparently far more important than we were as we passed the Padre. About thirty minutes later, we heard the hail from the US Coast Guard. “Fishing vessel at 28d 11m, this is the US Coast Guard Cutter one mile off your port.” There was no reply. The hail was repeated and again no reply. Apparently, the Coast Guard thought it was a little suspicious as well and was probably out there anticipating something was going to happen.