Newfound harbor big pine key
Posted: Mon Mar 17, 2025 8:32 am
Pt 1
The Oceanside Big Pine Key area was one of the last places that I had yet to explore in the macgregor. I had been there in a smaller keelboat thirty five years ago but wasn’t able to do much looking around at that time.
We left Islamorada (with new bow roller in place) on northerly winds that had howled all night. Worked my way out of the maze of channels at the lignumvitea key bank under power. As soon as I was in clear water, I set the main and proceeded under Long Key bridge as the strong north winds began to flag. Long Key is one of my favorite places. The beach is open to exploration, being a park. And the shallow water anchorage is protected from any weather except tropical storms. I hugged the Oceanside shore for some sight seeing as I sailed along the Key, and then the Long Key Viaduct bridge, in now mild, cool conditions. Towards late afternoon, the wind backed to the west a bit, putting me on a close reach. I was abeam of Marathon by this time. Odd that the winds should do this, but not unheard of. I grumbled about my vanished quarterly whole sail breeze. Hahaha (foreshadow)
I started the motor and arrived at the Molasses keys by dusk. I’m familiar with this area and the Chart plotter is accurate.
These tiny islands are visible from the 7 mile bridge, seeming to be tropical cast away islands in the wide expanse of shallow waters. These are private islands. I know the guy who owns them. So after anchoring the yacht in the current plagued harbor, I invited myself ashore with my dogs. These scraps of land are scarcely a foot about high tide. They are rocky remnants of some long ago coral ledge. Now instead of
Coral, they sprout some scrubby greenery not even fit for an iguana to dine on. My dogs happily “watered” it nonetheless. On returning aboard the boat, I noticed a text message on my phone from the islands owner, inviting me to his campsite (no permanent building is allowed on these islands) where I was offered a plate of campfire cooked food. The gentleman explained his plan for the islands, which may include selling them to have funds for traveling in Europe. The next day the winds had come around to the north east and because my destination for the day was only a few miles away, I was in no rush for an early start. That destination was a shallow slough between two grassy banks just south of the Veterans Memorial picnic area. You need good light and at least half tide to get in, but there is plenty of water inside. Due to current direction, it’s best in NE-E winds only. I spent the afternoon walking the dogs on the exposed sliver of sand since the tide was low now. There were also some pretty conch to look at. The flats protect this area from chop so I had a restful night. In the morning the winds were very mild, from the east. I left early on the tide. I had planed on anchoring again in another nearby cut, but the forecast was calling for continuing slacking winds, turning calm the next day. I figured I’d just sail down to big pine, before they expired completely. You know I hate to run the engine so, I enjoyed another slowish sail with the winds nearby behind me, right on the shore almost. Past Bahia Honda state park, and the prominent bridge there, and along the small outer keys which protect Big Pine Key and Newfound harbor and have some very expensive houses on them. It was late afternoon when I arrived, and saw I had many options for anchoring. There are some tiny sandy keys, but they had lots of picnickers already there and I didn’t want to disturb them with my dogs. There were some cruising boats in Newfound hsrbor proper, and some scattered about near the entrance to shallow Coupon Bight. I chose this last option. I anchored the boat in the grassy flats then took the dinghy through a small gap to the ocean side of the little keys I had sailed by earlier in the day. There was a pretty beach there which my dogs approved of, but we didn’t stay long, as the sandflies were coming out.
As promised, the next day was glassy and beautiful. The crisp after cold front air made the water colors really pop.
I thought about going early to the small islands were people were picnicking the day before and anchoring for the day. People couldn’t complain about my dogs if I was there first. But the forecast was calling for another front in a few days which meant the winds picking up. I should do my exploring today while the winds were calm. The type of exploring I like to do, is easier when it’s not windy. I departed my anchorage and motored slowly through the brilliant waters that now, only the middle and lower keys can provide. Without having to mind the sails, and plan for wind direction, I was more feee to look for turtles, sharks and other interesting things. I could also come closer to shore, shallows and other hazards than I would dare to while under sail. Thirty five years ago I had viewed the scenery from my keel boat though binoculars as anything shallower than five feet (four under perfect conditions) was a no go zone. Now I blithely waltzed through areas marked two feet, on the chart and even shallower with caution. In truth there wasn’t really anything that exciting. But that’s not the point. It all looked so Intriguing and mysterious from afar. And forbidden. Today was like scratching that itch from so long ago. My final point of this shallow water extravaganza was an investigation of the canal leading into Sugarloaf Sound. On the satellite images it looked possible. However in person it was too small for a boat with a mast and rigging to enter. That was a bit of a letdown. No matter. Onward to Newfound harbor proper! My live aboard friends had raved about this place in the 80’s. It’s well protected, even up to mild hurricanes with good anchors. But now it’s also quite build up on shore, so there is really no place to land a dingy. I came way into the shallows and anchored. There was beached keelboat I wanted to see. Plus there could be some turtles, and a place for my dogs to walk.
The boat was a Pearson from 1971, according to her very nice makers ID badge in the cockpit. (Bronze of course) and she looked pretty intact. Even a newer diesel engine now beginning to rust with the hatches being off. The boat had been looted long ago probably, since the cabin was in a shambles and the lock had been broken off. I guess the engine was not worth removing. I closed the hatch. The boat had a lot of nice bronze hardware but I took nothing. I can make anything really need out of titanium now, so there’s not too much I’d be interested in. Besides, the boat was complete and I generally won’t take stuff from a boat like that, even though this one won’t leave that location without a chainsaw and a barge. There’s a half mile of 2 foot deep water to the nearest 5ft sounding. Very sad.
I reanchored in the same location I’d left this morning. It was quiet over here away from the highway. The one other little island with some sand in it that I wanted to see was posted as “private” so that ended that.
Ix
The Oceanside Big Pine Key area was one of the last places that I had yet to explore in the macgregor. I had been there in a smaller keelboat thirty five years ago but wasn’t able to do much looking around at that time.
We left Islamorada (with new bow roller in place) on northerly winds that had howled all night. Worked my way out of the maze of channels at the lignumvitea key bank under power. As soon as I was in clear water, I set the main and proceeded under Long Key bridge as the strong north winds began to flag. Long Key is one of my favorite places. The beach is open to exploration, being a park. And the shallow water anchorage is protected from any weather except tropical storms. I hugged the Oceanside shore for some sight seeing as I sailed along the Key, and then the Long Key Viaduct bridge, in now mild, cool conditions. Towards late afternoon, the wind backed to the west a bit, putting me on a close reach. I was abeam of Marathon by this time. Odd that the winds should do this, but not unheard of. I grumbled about my vanished quarterly whole sail breeze. Hahaha (foreshadow)
I started the motor and arrived at the Molasses keys by dusk. I’m familiar with this area and the Chart plotter is accurate.
These tiny islands are visible from the 7 mile bridge, seeming to be tropical cast away islands in the wide expanse of shallow waters. These are private islands. I know the guy who owns them. So after anchoring the yacht in the current plagued harbor, I invited myself ashore with my dogs. These scraps of land are scarcely a foot about high tide. They are rocky remnants of some long ago coral ledge. Now instead of
Coral, they sprout some scrubby greenery not even fit for an iguana to dine on. My dogs happily “watered” it nonetheless. On returning aboard the boat, I noticed a text message on my phone from the islands owner, inviting me to his campsite (no permanent building is allowed on these islands) where I was offered a plate of campfire cooked food. The gentleman explained his plan for the islands, which may include selling them to have funds for traveling in Europe. The next day the winds had come around to the north east and because my destination for the day was only a few miles away, I was in no rush for an early start. That destination was a shallow slough between two grassy banks just south of the Veterans Memorial picnic area. You need good light and at least half tide to get in, but there is plenty of water inside. Due to current direction, it’s best in NE-E winds only. I spent the afternoon walking the dogs on the exposed sliver of sand since the tide was low now. There were also some pretty conch to look at. The flats protect this area from chop so I had a restful night. In the morning the winds were very mild, from the east. I left early on the tide. I had planed on anchoring again in another nearby cut, but the forecast was calling for continuing slacking winds, turning calm the next day. I figured I’d just sail down to big pine, before they expired completely. You know I hate to run the engine so, I enjoyed another slowish sail with the winds nearby behind me, right on the shore almost. Past Bahia Honda state park, and the prominent bridge there, and along the small outer keys which protect Big Pine Key and Newfound harbor and have some very expensive houses on them. It was late afternoon when I arrived, and saw I had many options for anchoring. There are some tiny sandy keys, but they had lots of picnickers already there and I didn’t want to disturb them with my dogs. There were some cruising boats in Newfound hsrbor proper, and some scattered about near the entrance to shallow Coupon Bight. I chose this last option. I anchored the boat in the grassy flats then took the dinghy through a small gap to the ocean side of the little keys I had sailed by earlier in the day. There was a pretty beach there which my dogs approved of, but we didn’t stay long, as the sandflies were coming out.
As promised, the next day was glassy and beautiful. The crisp after cold front air made the water colors really pop.
I thought about going early to the small islands were people were picnicking the day before and anchoring for the day. People couldn’t complain about my dogs if I was there first. But the forecast was calling for another front in a few days which meant the winds picking up. I should do my exploring today while the winds were calm. The type of exploring I like to do, is easier when it’s not windy. I departed my anchorage and motored slowly through the brilliant waters that now, only the middle and lower keys can provide. Without having to mind the sails, and plan for wind direction, I was more feee to look for turtles, sharks and other interesting things. I could also come closer to shore, shallows and other hazards than I would dare to while under sail. Thirty five years ago I had viewed the scenery from my keel boat though binoculars as anything shallower than five feet (four under perfect conditions) was a no go zone. Now I blithely waltzed through areas marked two feet, on the chart and even shallower with caution. In truth there wasn’t really anything that exciting. But that’s not the point. It all looked so Intriguing and mysterious from afar. And forbidden. Today was like scratching that itch from so long ago. My final point of this shallow water extravaganza was an investigation of the canal leading into Sugarloaf Sound. On the satellite images it looked possible. However in person it was too small for a boat with a mast and rigging to enter. That was a bit of a letdown. No matter. Onward to Newfound harbor proper! My live aboard friends had raved about this place in the 80’s. It’s well protected, even up to mild hurricanes with good anchors. But now it’s also quite build up on shore, so there is really no place to land a dingy. I came way into the shallows and anchored. There was beached keelboat I wanted to see. Plus there could be some turtles, and a place for my dogs to walk.
The boat was a Pearson from 1971, according to her very nice makers ID badge in the cockpit. (Bronze of course) and she looked pretty intact. Even a newer diesel engine now beginning to rust with the hatches being off. The boat had been looted long ago probably, since the cabin was in a shambles and the lock had been broken off. I guess the engine was not worth removing. I closed the hatch. The boat had a lot of nice bronze hardware but I took nothing. I can make anything really need out of titanium now, so there’s not too much I’d be interested in. Besides, the boat was complete and I generally won’t take stuff from a boat like that, even though this one won’t leave that location without a chainsaw and a barge. There’s a half mile of 2 foot deep water to the nearest 5ft sounding. Very sad.
I reanchored in the same location I’d left this morning. It was quiet over here away from the highway. The one other little island with some sand in it that I wanted to see was posted as “private” so that ended that.
Ix
