I’ve been anchored in tarpon basin in key largo for a few weeks while I was too busy to move the boat further. It’s hotter than hades back there. The waters like soup, the bugs are bad, but it is close to stores and things. The place is still a good stop, but less good since they closed the docks. People are still using the area, and there are still places to tie up a dinghy. You can also use the docks after hours. My cabin temps here were 90-100 degrees, with fans going and 60% humidity. That’s close to the limit of human tolerance. The last few years have been the hottest ever. I will no longer cruise during the summers. Hard on me, hard on my dogs, not worth it.
I left tarpon basin for the key largo ocean side with relief, if nothing else then for cleaner water elsewhere. I chose the angelfish creek Route instead of snake creek, mostly so I could stop and clean the bottom at Cross key in Barnes sound. It’s sandy, one of the few places locally with any sand, and popular with dog owners. I don’t like sailing with anything at all on the bottom, and I was looking forward to getting in clean water as well. I arrived after an uneventful motor through jewfish creek. No one else was there, and I parked in thigh deep water on clean white sand. After letting the dogs explore a bit, and noting all the caserina pines falling in due to rising sea level, I got to work scrubbing the bottom of light to moderate crud and a few barnacles. This is that epoxy/powdered copper concoction I applied about four years ago. It works so-so but doesn’t rub off at all. I’m not as spry at this task as I once was, because flipping upside down and then back, as one does while scrubbing, makes me have nausea and vertigo now. So, I take my time work slowly and take more breaks. The water was lovely though. I inspected the stub keel and found no evidence of damage from my little encounter with the sand bar at Marvin Key. Everything else looked good. After I dried off and had lunch, I decided not to stay over night there, mostly out of extreme paranoia of getting caught on those particular flats in a sudden squall. The water shoals up quickly on the sand bar and theoretically the boat could pound the bottom, if you didn’t drag anchor first. I sailed northeast under the main, at three knots, as I’ve done most of my trip. Under card sound bridge without using the motor, and at dusk, past Pumpkin Cay, just off the ritzy ocean reef club resort. I anchored not far from the west entrance of Angelfish creek. I didn’t drop the dagger board once, despite occasional short courses close hauled. In smooth waters, the boats pointing now works out quite conveniently to be: the stub keel doubles the weather ability of the boat with just the skegs and no board, and the board down doubles the weather ability of just the stub keel and skegs. (By gpscharting)
The next morning was clear and hot.I hanked on the working jib for use in Hawk Channel. I got underway somewhat early in a fair breeze. Motorsailed through the creek, then turned Parallel to shore, gliding past the other side of the ocean reef club. Still not much fishing traffic about yet from the resort. In a few miles I found the energy to pull up the jib which, once trimmed, livened up the boats motion, producing a few crashes and clunks from below, from things not prepared for this unusual heeling. We were now doing four knots or better, and the beam reach didn’t require the board which of course on the ocean side now, would be seaweed collector anyway. The rudders were bad enough. After a half hour I came across some Haitian boats, beached in the shallows. I’d seen them in the news some weeks back. Haitian migrants within miles of millionaires club house or some BS. I was tempted to look at them, but one was a large power boat type vessel and the other looked pretty beat up though the binoculars. A few more miles down the pike was a little Cuban boat (I can tell by the difference in hull styles) and then a completely intact Haitian sloop with the jib still set and drawing. I couldn’t pass that up. I mean, come one. So I came in to within a hundred yards, put the anchor over, let down the sails and dinghied over to the wreck with the dogs. Very interesting detour. I’d never been on a hatian boat before. She was pretty big, fifty ft long by probably fourteen, wood, with massive rough timbers and planking, painted blue and red. Stepping onto this craft was like stepping back 200 years. The inside, covered by a large square cabin with very clever sliding windows, was filled with water, trash, clothing and life cushions. She was outfitted with benches but nothing else. Aside from a few broken odds and ends, she appeared to be in pretty good shape, for having come from Haiti with God knows how many people on board. I took some pictures:
and then got my own little ship back underway. Had a nice ride to rodreguiz Key, where I declined to park on the windward flats because there were too many boats there, so I chose the western end. It’s still hot, but less so by a few degrees, than the bayside was. The next few days I’ll derig the boat and trailer her. I don’t plan to launch again until next year.
Ix
