Daily Archives: 1 13 December 14

Saturday, 13 December                                                36.8 SM

So she called to the Captain,

With that same old whine.

She said, “I’m still so very cold here. What is with this clime?”

But voices of Snowbirds keep calling from far away,

Wake you up in the middle of the night

When you to hear them say…

There’s plenty of room at the Velcro Beach Marina.

What a lovely place, what a lovely space.

Livin’ it up at the Velcro Beach Marina.

Any time of year, you can find it here. Sung to the tune of Hotel California.

Sure Red still runs but it feels good to raise sail anyway.

That is the goal this day, to make Vero Beach. Not a super long day, just a good stretch of the legs. But Vero, they say, is a “must” harbor. Sheltered anchorage, discount city moorings or, if so inclined, a tidy municipal marina. There’s a free bus that stops by the marina several times a day to take cruisers to Publix, Ace, Waste Marine, whatever a sailor needs. It’s a perfect place to wait for a weather window for a jump to dee I’lons, mon. Such a great place to stop, in fact, some cruisers hate to leave, hence the nickname “Velcro Beach.” You stop there you might get stuck.

Bundled up again this day, it’s cold but at least there’s a bright Florida sun offering a degree-or-two of radiant heat, or so it is hoped. Piloting-wise, this is about as easy as it gets. Straight shot. Almost due south. No wacky turns, tricky currents. As Alan Jackson said to Jimmy Buffett, “Just keep it between the navigational beacons.”

Arrrrrrgh! That  be no plunder for the pirate crew of this ship.

The genny unfurls not long after Steadfast noses out of Eau Gallie and back on the waterway. That northerly still chills the cockpit but it is a big help. Little Red loafs along at an easy-for-her 1,800 RPM but with the genny pulling, speeds over the bottom are 7-plus miles-an-hour. Good stuff.

There’s a “pirate ship” off in the mangrove to starboard, oddly close to the shoal. On closer examination, it’s clear she dragged anchor at some point. Sails hang shredded from the yardarms, no sign of life aboard. Another derelict, dreams gone aground.

A humble home sits not far from pricey condos.

Steadfast motors on, still down the Indian River. She comes alongside Pelican Island Wildlife Refuge, the first such space set aside in the US. The it’s condos and the beach McMansion, all pink and melon, stucco and tile. Then tucked back in the mangroves here and there, a single-story right on the water, owner not goin’ no where.

Vero Beach City Marina is a favorite with frugal cruisers.

Finally, right at the Vero Beach Bridge, there’s a hard turn to port ‘round green 139. Not too close, mind you; it’s shoal there. Up inside, the Cut opens, filled with all manner of cruising vessel. Some anchored, many moored, others on the city docks. Crews gather on the pier, at the laundry or bathhouse. “The Swarm,” the Sail Magazine ICW Rally is here, all 20 boats and crews with fearless co-leaders Wally Moran and Mark and Diana Doyle (God love ’em).

They’ve been here several days, already, ‘cause it is Velcro Beach. Good stuff. Tough to leave.

Cruisers’ minds are twisted, like a pretzel bends.

Talk of pretty, pretty isles and all their friends.

How they talk in the courtyard, hoping soon to sweat.

Some sail to remember,

Some sail to forget.

Last thing I remember, I was

Running for the dink.

Had to find my way back to the boat,

Not fall in the drink.

“Relax,” said the dock boy. “We are here to receive.

You can check out any time you’d like, but

You’ll never want to leave.”

That’s the way at the Velcro Beach Marina.

What a nice surprise (what a nice surprise), bring your alibis.

Livin’ it up at the Velcro Beach Marina.

Any kind of gear, you can find it here!

Friday, 12 December                                                                                    37.2 SM

It doesn’t feel like it but the heading is correct.

Some days, there’s just not a lot to report. No remarkable photo ops. No unexpected adventures. Just miles and hours of moving farther south.

This is good. And this is the case with this day. Not much out of the “Florida” ordinary, although thick clouds cast a gloom that would not meet the approval of the tourist bureau. Decidedly un-Floridian.

The NASA Space Museum includes a space shuttle.

Steadfast pulled out of Titusville and back into the waterway at 0925, slipped under the highrise and was on her way back down the Indian River. The NASA Causeway Bridge was the only span to contend with today. The others all were of the ersatz 65’ variety, although judging from the clearance boards, you wouldn’t want to transit today with a mast that’s 64’. Something’s gotta give and it’s generally not the bridge.

Fishing Eau Gallie Creek draws a crowd.

Not much traffic. Three or four southbound boats passed (don’t they all?), CG Auxiliary buzzed by and that’s about it. For six hours.

The Indian is wide yet remarkably shallow. The waterway’s controlling depth is 12’. Readings most of the day were 10 or 11 but stray out of the ICW and it quickly shoals to four, three feet or less. Lots of catamarans along the shores. That or derelicts. And on the shores, big homes. None of that “fish camp” stuff. Merritt Island to the east; Palm Shores, Cocoa, etc. to the west. Big yards, big homes.

On to Eau Gallie. There’s no definitive explanation for the origin of the name. “Eau,” we know, is French for water. That much makes sense (except pronounced locally as “you” not the French “oh”). “Gallie?” Maybe corruption of “Gallic?”

Eau Gallie’s oldest house was built in 1902 by businessman John Rostetter.

Who cares? Whatever, it’s an intriguing spot. There’s a long narrow seven-foot channel that snakes in from the river, around a bend and—boom—there’s the basin. Wooden fixed piers, several liveaboards and a couple of boats in the soon-to-be-derelict category.  If you want a slip—overnight lows still are forecast in the low 40s—call Karen, the canvas lady. (Go figga. Not the marina, mind you. The canvas lady.) Buck a foot, 30-amp included. Cash or check only. Gotta luv it.

Kinda like a day with not a lot to report. Gotta luv it.

Steadfast out.