Return to Elliott’s

[Ixneigh]

Return to Elliott’s key

I left tarpon basin later than I would have liked. I motored out of the harbor and out the creek that leads to it. I think its name is Grouper Creek. Normally this is a pretty tranquil trip, but it’s a holiday weekend and the waterway is crowded with day trippers in outboard powered boats of various types. None, save one, inclined to slow down for less speedy vessels such as mine. In the more open water of black water sound now, I set the main. It has been pretty breezy today. My course was off the wind so I left the reefs out and snugged up the weather runner as I turned her downwind. That arrangement pushed the boat at nearly five knots. The bottom probably needs a scrub, and I’m towing a dinghy. Not too bad. For a long time, this point of sail was, if not my least favorite, the next to the least, after a close haul. Maybe it was because I prefer to use the main and not the jib, most of the time. Maybe Roger MacGregor, the builder of the boat, was a jibber, and designed the boat to be sailed down wind using the jib. Whatever the reason, I always felt that I was not getting the most out of the boat. Then she’d just round up when she’d had enough. A nice safety feature, that. The last few cruises haven’t had a lot of down wind work anyway, but this trip was planned anticipating a downwind leg to the destination, and maybe one while returning. Thanks to our Florida cold fronts and the varying winds they promise. The boat settled in to her groove comfortably, having been given a few gentle tips in years past, on maintaining a lady like composure. None of that bothersome rounding up business. In an hour I was approaching jewfish creek and the docks and resort beneath it. Using better judgement than I’ve employed in the past, I doused the sail and motored under the bridge and through the mangrove lined channel. I did not want to pose a hazard to the carefree picnickers and fishermen at the helm of three hundred thousand dollar center consoles. When I exited the creek, I debated weather to anchor in Thursday Cove for the night. It was getting on towards late afternoon. However, the weather forecast hinted that the shifting winds might eventually make this inviting little cove, offering a nice Lee right now, a bit less pleasant later. I put up a reefed main and sailed over towards the Cross Key area, with its sandy beach sure to make my dogs happy. The winds dropped off as I neared the small island, dotted with casuarina pines. I dropped the anchor and tied the sail up. The dogs all but leaped into the dinghy and I slowly rowed them to their wonderful little sandy area all of ten feet wide. Some swimmers in a couple pontoon boats not far away laughed loudly at something and I looped the dinghy painter around a mangrove tree branch and helped the dogs out. Almost instantly I felt sand flies biting my legs. Guess this will be a short walk, my little doggies! I had to row out a few hundred yards before the bugs relented. The winds had really dropped off in the last hour. I studied my M, on her anchor, a very pretty picture in the so called golden hour lighting. The winds should swing around and create a lee for me. Should. I decided I wouldn’t look for another spot. The swimmers left at sunset. The pontoon boats cruised past my sailing craft probably regarding her as an oddity now. All day I had not seen another sail. No one has the patience for the sport in my location, it seems. I rowed slowly along the islands shore for a quarter mile, looking at nothing in particular, just getting some exercise after sitting much of the day. One of my dogs is buried here, and I’m always a little melancholy when I think of him, and how much he liked the little sandy beach.
The wind shift which had been forecast, did not occur when I woke the next morning at five AM. It was nearly calm, in fact, and foggy. That’s interesting. I turned on the radio and they were still forecasting the strong north wind, but had moved the arrival back to later today or tonight. That was OK by me since I’d have winds from the stern again instead of from the beam. The northerly winds however, might be a bit concerning at Elliott’s Key, since it would become a lee shore. I decided I’d make my destination today Sands Key, just northeast of Elliott’s Key. There’s a small spot which would offer some protection until the winds came out of the East again.
To make the most of the lingering westerlies, I set a full main. I pulled the hook, lashed everything and sat down at the helm. Almost immediately I saw a shackle pin fall from somewhere. What is that from??? Oh. The upper main sheet block had come off the boom bale. The rest of the shackle was nowhere to be seen. I snugged up the lee runner to keep the boom controlled while I went and got a replacement shackle. I wondered why I had used a screw pin shackle for that until I recalled that the last one with a ring retainer on it, got snarled on something and it pulled the ring, then the pin, out. I tighten the new shackle with a pair of vise grips and carried on. About ten, the winds had picked up nicely to fifteen or twenty. The fog was long gone. Sunny and warm. Alabama Jacks bar and restaurant was now off my port beam. Card sound bridge loomed ahead. I don’t think Ive ever had really good food at Jacks. Has anyone? The current was with me so I sailed on under the bridge, where a sedan cruiser passed me because waiting three whole minutes was much too onerous. I usually at least have the engine down and idling when I sail under fixed bridges like this, but this time, with both wind and current sweeping me through, there was no need. Ahead was a half mile channel and once past that, it should be pretty much unobstructed sailing the rest of the day. A customs and immigration patrol boat roared past me, launched by no less than 4 outboards. That was followed by two racing catamarans doing at least 80 mph. A red one and a white one. Were they in a rush to order a subpar sandwich at Alabama Jacks? I did also see another sail astern of me. About a half mile back, perhaps. It looked like they had a jib up because I could see a sail flogging. It wasn’t a good point of sail for both main and jib, but maybe it would add a little speed. I expected them to catch up to me, but they never did. We were making between four and five knots now. I guess I could have set the yankee jib, but that adds more line in the cockpit for the dogs to deal with and they were fine with just the main up. What a nice sailing day!
I approached the shore of the southern end of Elliott’s and kept maybe 100 yards off, sailing past anchored runabouts with sunbathers and snorkelers enjoying the tropical waters, which were a hundred shades of light blue. There was one large sailing yacht which looked a little like the MacGregor 65, lying at anchor, surrounded by the azure waters. That one was definitely out of my price range! I wasn’t able to lament it that long though, since I passed them quickly and shortly it was time to reduce sail for the approach to Sands Key and the little cove I’d hoped to anchor in. I put the boat on the wind, took two reefs and used the engine to assist in coming about. It looked like there were two larger sailboats in there already but I figured I’d check it out and maybe there was still room because of my shallow draft. I was elated to see them pulling up their anchors a few minutes later though. They appeared to be day trip charter boats. With them gone, I had plenty of space to anchor. I furled the sail and pulled up the rudders. One of the dogs had a bladder cloudburst on the fordeck and I praised her. Much better place for a bladder cloudburst than on my bunk. I generally try to find at least one shore landing a day for the dogs but today there won’t be any. The bugs will be too bad by now. There is a small trailwalk in the keyhole lagoon at Sands Key but it’s advisable to only use it during midday unless you coat yourself in DEET. Tomorrow we’ll all go see it, and maybe take a dinghy ride to the ocean side of the key, though the nearby cut between Boca Chita key and Sands Key. My plan is to wait until the winds are from the SE again, and spend a day in the Lee off one of the Elliott’s Key beaches and maybe scrub the bottom of the boat a bit. I believe it will be a shorter sailing season than I usually have. I’d like to have the boat sailing her best.

[NiceAft]

I enjoyed the read. This is what I woke up to.

[Russ]

Thanks for allowing us to live vicariously. You have some great sailing areas although the bugs don't sound nice.
-10F here yesterday. New Orleans is forecast 5" of snow.

Now post some pictures so we can really enjoy.

[Ixneigh]

Elliott’s and a cold but fast romp south

This morning was wet cold and grey.
I hadn’t felt well on going to bed last night, and my mood remained fairly dark this morning. I was unable to get a weather forecast because there is no cell service here, and the NOAHH station was in Spanish. Go figure. However the winds were now indeed from the north. My plan of using this little harbor worked well. I had slept through the wind shift and now had a series of shallow banks about a mile away affording me protection from wave action. I decided to make sail
as soon as possible and let the dogs walk on the Elliott’s key beach. So we did. Well, I actually motored down there the two miles, to charge the batteries a bit. I had a feeling it was going to stay cloudy and windy, so no solar charging. Anchoring in the shallows I see it’s low tide. We visit in the dinghy and the dogs run off stream, dashing up and down the narrow strip of sand, and sniffing around for hidden delicacies at which I’m sure to yell at them for consuming. My pretty M looks serene under oyster grey skies. Aside from the Mainsheet shackle business yesterday, she’s been on her best behavior. Whatever Miasma is inflicting my mindset this morning, it has nothing to do with her. I decide to call off the trip and head back south. The weather shows no signs of improving, nor of the forecast easterlies. I find the lack of cell signal annoying. I mean, I can bloody SEE Miami from here. How can we not have signal? I’m not normally a big digital fanatic, however I like to stream podcasts or music when I’m below at anchor. I suffer from a bit of tinnitus and this makes the condition a tad more bearable. Back on board I secure the dogs and squint disgustedly against the cold, spitting drizzle. It looks like it could start to snow. Pull up the sail, and winch up the anchor. I do not disconnect the motor from the steering bar, although I should did have. The boats slides effortlessly off the wind. Mid fives all the way. The rudder craft rudders I put back on the boat this season are performing well. Of course the whole steering system has quite a bit of slop in it, and does make me long for a tiller at times. I pass by Cesar creek, and negotiate the adjacent marked channel through the Arnicker Key bank. Once out of that, I put the boat on the wind briefly to lengthen the dinghy painter and disconnect the engine from the steering. That improved the helm feel, and now’s it light as a feather. The long painter allows the dinghy to tow flatter. It’s as nice a sail as the damp dark day can allow. I feel like I’ve finally got the boat performing well. For my needs, at any rate. In an hour pumpkin key is astern and Card Sound bridge is ahead. I sailed under it yesterday and I’ll sail under it today. I decide not to stop at Jack’s. The leg from card sound to Jewfish creek was more of the same, save for one accidental gybe when I wasnt paying attention. Just a nice long almost dead downwind stint in the misty grey, chilly afternoon. I furl
the main before attempting jewfish creek, however there was little traffic. No one visiting the bar or gas docks of the resort there. I choose an anchorage just around the corner from the beach bar which is in a comfortable Lee. I’ve been wind whipped all day and the break is a welcomed one. Back in my home waters again. I feel relieved, like, cosmically, I wasn’t supposed to be at Elliott’s right now. A crazy friend pings my phone and wants to talk about space aliens. I’m starving. I do not have enough warm clothing on this boat. Last time this year I was sweating with just a tank top and shorts. Maybe I’ll see if there’s any shrimp in the nearby mangrove creek tonight.