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Thursday, 12 March

He’s late 60s, early 70s maybe, a trim, athletic six-footer. Shirtless and barefoot, he wears khaki cargo shorts only as he stands on the off-white foredeck of a custom 40-foot catamaran, Windsong of Ocean City, NJ. The hull is metallic gray and she sports a pilot house of unusual design, not the usual. But there’s something else that sets her apart. Wait a minute!  She has no rig! Mast, boom, sails, shrouds and stays all lie on the ground 20-feet away from the slip at Hinckley Yachts where Windsong is tied.

Windsong looked so forlorn with her mast in the water.

He must have quite a story to tell, one thinks. The way the wind’s been blowing the past week, it’s easy to imagine she lost her rig in a gale-force gust crossing the Gulf Stream, a bow dug into a steep wave or, heaven forbid, she pitch-poled in 20-foot seas. But no.

TowBoat brought her into the travel lift slip after dark.

“It was on the ICW, about five-o’clock last night, down near Jupiter.” His head turns toward the bows and nods slightly as he explains, “I looked away at a wake-boarder speeding by and—bang!—ran her right into a day marker.”

Judging from the damage, he probably had her moving at a pretty good clip at the time, too. So much for an exciting story of peril on the high seas. The guy just did what most skippers have done—and will do—at one time or another and lost track of where he was.

“I can’t believe it,” he says, his face showing more embarrassment than sadness. “I was right there, standing right at the helm!”

He then goes on to recite the damage, the spar that buckled, the torn trampoline.

Mike, introductions having been made, then goes on to enumerate the damage, the spar that buckled, the torn trampoline and so on and so on.

Torn tramp and a tangle of rigging wire on mangled spars.

“Just waiting to hear from the insurance company,” says Mike. “But no one was hurt. Thank God, no one was hurt.”

Amen, brother.

And now, as Paul Harvey might’ve said, for the rest of the story.

Windsong is a Chris White-designed Atlantic 42. Why is that notable? Well, because for a time not long ago, the Atlantic 42 was built at John Lombardi’s shop off the North River in, guess…Mathews, Virginia. How crazy is that?! Lombardi caused quite a stir, not just in Mathews, but across the sailboat industry when his first Chris White Atlantic 42 won the Cruising World Magazine 1998 “Boat of the Year” award for Best Cruising Multihull. Lombardi built several more, but fell on hard times. So Windsong was built in a yard in South Africa to the same Chris White design. And then, once he took delivery over there, Mike sailed her “maiden voyage” across the south Atlantic to Grenada in the Caribbean.

“I do much better on the ocean,” notes Mike. “I never do the ICW.”

Hmm.  With good reason, one might say.

But next time you do, Mike, keep a hand on the helm, a sharp look-out ahead and let the wake boards go as they may.

(Oh, by the way, if you’re interested in a lightly used Atlantic 42, she is for sale.)

Steadfast out.

“Heeling. Nothing more than heeling…” or so the song goes.

Friday, 6 March

There is no tidal swing this far up the St. Lucie River. There should be plenty of water to keep Sirena on her lines. There’s no evidence of panic aboard so it’s assumed everything is alright. But it’s clear she has begun to list heavily to port. And, as it turns out, she heels by design.

Ahead lies the Port Mayaca Railroad Bridge. A lift-type bridge, vertical clearance 49’. At least, that’s what the chart says. It sure doesn’t look like that when Steadfast–mast height 38 plus anchor light and antenna–motors through. There should be at least nine feet of clearance above her masthead. Must be, but from the deck, it sure doesn’t look like it.

The view to the lift from Steadfast’s deck.

Sirena’s mast height above water—including anchor light and antenna—is closer to 50’. Her crew now attempts, in effect, to make her shorter. Sirena’s skipper, Dale, has calculated that if they can induce her to heel about ten-degrees, Sirena, a Pearson 34, should slide right through with no problem.

At least, that’s the thought.

The “bucket brigade” leaves Sirena with the look of a fire boat.

So Sirena’s port rail is lined with a dozen (as in 12) five-gallon buckets, dipped in the St. Lucie River and filled to the brim. Those are joined by three yellow five-gallon cans of diesel fuel, a couple of blue cans of drinking water plus fenders, Debbie and—suspended from the boom, swung out over the side—the heavy wood pram that is her tender.

Yep, she’s definitely heeled to port, at which point Dale pushes the throttle slowly forward and Sirena motors slowly toward The Bridge. Yard by yard, foot by foot, inching ever so slowly ahead.  This is scary, my friend.  You know what a new spar costs?  Scary.

Sirena approaches.

From downstream, there seems to be no clearance at all, as in close! But waddya know, there’s no buckling of the spar, no crunch of the masthead or anchor light. Sirena slips right through.

Sirena passes under the lift, barely.

She’s through!

No crunch.  No clank.  There is, however, a nearly audible sigh of relief, no doubt, on deck of Sirena.

So…that’s how it’s done.  Easy, huh?  There’s a video version of this process for viewing on You Tube at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pTh7yLcNaQs Different boat, of course, but just as much fun to see. Interesting stuff.

And remember, sometimes it’s okay to be tipsy!

Steadfast out.

Thursday, 5 March                                                            66.3 SM

Sixty-six statute miles, 11 hours, four bridges, three locks, one lake and no sailing. A big day for Steadfast. More so for Little Red. All of which began in the catacomb-quiet cast by fog so thick, it drips off the rigging.

Just follow the reflections.

In such stillness, shameful it seems to shake Red to wakefulness.  But wake she must, if Steadfast is to make her date on the east side of Lake Okeechobee. The forecast, remember? Cross today or, now, she’ll rest a week in LaBelle or maybe Moore Haven or, could it be, Clewiston? No, no. It’s Port Mayaca or Bust!

There is the little issue of the fog which, at 0630, blankets the bridge at LaBelle such that the bridge deck above is heard—the rumbling of vehicle tires rattle the steel—but not seen. Thick. Not a broth, mind you, but soup-like. Creamy style.

You may not think of it but this is Cattle Country!

The Pearson 34 Sirena of Oriental (NC) backs off the pier moments ahead of Steadfast.  Then the larger boat beckons Steadfast to lead the way up stream. Following this morning is easier, one thinks, than leading. Nav lights “on” seems a prudent step. There are no markers along this stretch. One pilots this morn not by looking ahead but by staying just off the image of the shore that reflects off the river surface, sliding slightly to starboard.

The occasional hitchhiker grabs a ride.

Now, once the sun lifts fully above the tree line, the fog has no future. It is gone, gone, gone. The sun seizes command of the day, generating a welcome warmth wanted, but seldom enjoyed, in March in far off lands like, say, Virginia. Nice.

There’s a lock at Ortona where the Master assures the two vessels transit with dispatch. The next stop is the pier at Moore Haven Town Hall, a fuel stop where each crew quickly drains a yellow five-gallon can, the diesels slaking thirst for the lock there and the day’s final forty miles.

Sirena makes the turn at R-14.

A GPS chart-plotter is a wonderful thing. Thusly equipped, it’s here that Sirena takes her turn in the lead, markers being few and far between across the 25-mile breadth of Lake “O.”

There’s a turn hard a-port at Clewiston, one to starboard at Green #1, and again to port at Red #14. Then it’s easy, 12-to-14-feet of water over a limestone bottom, all the way to Port Mayaca. Crossing the lake, the afternoon sun is complemented by a refereshing breeze over the bow of 5.5, maybe 5.7 knots. Hey, what do you know, that’s the same speed Steadfast is making through the water! No matter, it feels good.

Air and water seems to meld across Lake “O.”

“The lock’s open, cap’n. Keep ‘er comin’.” The voice of the Master encourages Sirena and Steadfast to motor straight through the Port Mayaca Lock, gates at both ends open as the river level here is the same as the lake. Slowly through, it’s on to the tall dolphins that stand guard off to port beyond the lock’s east entrance. Sirena selects two and makes fast. Steadfast, farther down the line, likewise settles in for the night.

Another good day.  No fog now, just a pleasant reverie after a BIG traverse, smartly done.

Steadfast out.

“Home” for the past several weeks has been F66.

Wednesday, 4 March                                                  29.6 SM

It’s inevitable. At some point, Steadfast will move on. No matter how much fun, how enjoyable a given port may be, there is a time limit to this expedition. Time keeps moving even on those nights and days when Steadfast has remained at rest in Fort Myers.

This is a terrific harbor, smack dab in the middle of downtown. And Leif and the crew at the City Yacht Basin are just about the best, could not be more helpful and accommodating.

Steadfast put the staff to the test!

The price is right, too, thanks to their re-working the dockage contract from daily to weekly to monthly-rate. The lease is a full of strike-throughs and notes in the margin, none of which gives a hint of how great an experience this has been. But, it is time to move on.

The sweet smell of citrus blooms fills the air.

Making the move somewhat easier is the fact that the forecast favors a northbound crossing of Lake Okeechobee tomorrow, Thursday, before the wind shifts to the north for the better part of a week. In other words, it’s go now or hang for another seven days.

So after exchanging farewells with the office crew—Rod, Ron, Denise and Brian—Steadfast is underway shortly before 1300 hours, under the Edison Bridges and east bound up the Caloosahatchee. This is a much later start than preferred but sunset’s not ‘til 1830 so there’s time to make the town dock at LaBelle.

Nothing says “Welcome” like a free dock!

That is, assuming Little Red can generate an average speed of something close to six-miles-an-hour. No small task, given that between here and LaBelle, Steadfast will be slowed or stopped at the Pigott Bridge, Franklin Lock, Alva Bridge and Ortona Lock.

As it turns out, each of those is transited with remarkable ease. Timing is everything, they say, and Steadfast has great timing today. She barely slows before one bridge lifts, another swings open. Likewise the locks, each taking Steadfast up several feet to another level before sending her farther eastward.

Sunset on the Caloosahatchee.

A couple of years ago, the Town of LaBelle invested in a new pier offering six slips at every sailor’s favorite price: free! Again, the timing is right and Steadfast arrives just in time to slip into the last vacant spot on the pier.

“Welcome,” indeed. And, so far, at least, all has “fared” well fro Fort Myers.

Steadfast out.

Tuesday, 3 March                                                            19.7 SM

Not to get greedy but conditions are ideal!

What are the odds of raising sail yet again? Not good, given the experience of recent months. Then again, the sailing that has been done has all been in just the last week. And today’s forecast does look promising.

So when Kate’s cousin Brad and bride Margaret drive up from their winter home in Naples, an afternoon sail seems like a good idea.

“Rail Meat?” No way!

As an alumnus of Camp Sea Gull on Lake Cumberland, Brad is no novice. Once underway, he also recounts his experience as “rail meat” in a couple of regattas in Naples. So he is right at home at the helm on Steadfast.

The Caloosahatchee River is fairly easy to negotiate under power—just follow the markers—but the channel is fairly narrow, only 9-or-10-feet in most stretches and quickly shoals to 3-or-4-feet on either side. In other words, not the best place to sail a fixed keelboat. Normally.

The Steadfast crew.

But today, the wind blows out of the east-so’east at a steady 9-to-12, perfect for sailing a reach both down river and back up. And that’s what is done, Steadfast clipping along at 4.5-to-6.2 knots. She loves conditions like this, digging in and fairly steering herself through all but the puffs.

Tough to beat the combination of perfect wind, plenty of sun, not much traffic and lots of good conversation with great people. The conversation continues over dinner on the rooftop “SkyBar” at Firestone Grille just a couple of blocks from the pier. The view up there is remarkable, highly recommended.

Wow! Another day of sailing?

Sweet.

Steadfast out. 

Monday, 2 March

“In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue…”

Nina and Pinta pulled into the Yacht Basin to re-fuel.

One of the attractions of Fort Myers for the winter is, well, the number “attractions.” Along with the year-round activities like theater, art and the Edison-Ford Winter Estates, there are the festivals. There seems to be something going on downtown every weekend, Art Walk, car show, concerts and on and on. Even when there’s nothing planned, something fun seems to happen downtown.

The ships are considered historically correct, despite diesels.

For instance, the late afternoon arrival of the replica ships Nina and Pinta. They stopped to re-fuel on their way up the Caloosahatchee for a spring tour up the East Coast (See http://www.thenina.com for tour schedule).  A crowd of marina residents quickly formed, an impromptu festival of sorts.

The Niña is a replica of the ship on which Columbus crossed the Atlantic on his three voyages to the New World beginning in 1492, a total of more than 25,000 miles.  That ship was last heard of in 1501 but the new Niña is a floating museum visiting ports all over the Western Hemisphere.

According to the group’s website, the 65’ Nina was built completely by hand without the use of power tools. “Archaeology” magazine called the ship “the most historically correct Columbus replica ever built.” The 85’ Pinta, a larger version of the archetypal caravel, was built recently in Brazil to accompany the Nina on all of her travels. Historians consider the caravel the Space Shuttle of the fifteenth century.

Passing under the Edison Bridges and into the Caloosahatchee fog on their way east through the Okeechobee Canal.

The Niña and Pinta will be touring together as a new and enhanced ‘sailing museum’, for the purpose of educating the public and school children on the ‘caravel’, a Portuguese ship used by Columbus and many early explorers to discover the world.

They shoved off early Tuesday on their way across Lake Okeechobee to a five-night stay in Vero Beach, the same route Steadfast will take later this week. By the way, Nina and Pinta plan to be in Richmond the first week in May.

Watch for them at a city near you.  If there’s not a festival, these ships are bound to create one.

Steadfast out.

Sunday, 1 March                                                            0.0 SM (for Steadfast)

It’s 0722. The distinctive clanging of a cowbell breaks the silence of another-wise quiet Sunday morning. Some of us are having another cup ‘o Joe or heading out to an early service at church or maybe sleeping it off from Saturday night. But there’s some woman in ball cap, black tights and tee disturbing the silence with the jarring noise of a cowbell. As if that’s not enough, she yells, “Way to go! Lookin’ good,” as the somewhat more reserved gentleman by her side simply applauds.

These outbursts are offered in encouragement to entrants in the Fort Myers Hooters Half-Marathon. Its course comes right down Edwards Avenue, along the full length of Fort Myers Yacht Basin. As with any such event, participants represent the full range of the community, i.e., runners, joggers, young, old, athletic and those less so.   Regardless, each deserves applause for “running” his or her 13.1-miles as best as can be done this humid, sun-drenched Sunday morn.

Now, at noon, clouds moving in, a different race begins. It’s a 24-hour relay and the uniform of the day is full gear. This is the Josh Hargis Ranger Ruck. (Check it out at http://www.firstgiving.com/team/286972 )

A squad of SWAT Team members crosses back over the Edison Bridge as part of a fund-raiser for Lead The Way.

Members of SWAT Teams of Fort Myers, Cape Coral and Lee County run in shifts for 24-hours, noon today to noon Monday. Unlike the shorts and singlets of the Hooter’s entrants this morning, these guys run in fatigues and boots, with helmets, vests, weapons and packs, crossing the Edison Bridge to North Fort Myers and returning, up and down, two-miles round trip. Then, do it again. And again.

Keep in mind at their start time, it is a sticky 86 degrees, not exactly ideal weather for running at all, never mind in full gear. No cowbells, no crowds to cheer them on, but an esprit de corps, a sense of purpose that transcend discomfort or fatigue.

Running the race, as best can be done.

Steadfast out.