We went down the coast a ways to the jumping off point for the Bahamas, No Name Harbor in Key Biscayne.

Not sure why they couldn’t come up with a name for it?

It’s a very popular place for the locals, part of a state park, with harbor on one side and beach on the other.

We anchored in the morning and dinghied over to the park to walk the trails. A washer and dryer were available so we washed our clothes.

The nature trail took us a mile to the beach to check out the Lighthouse Cafe. On the way we saw lots of raccoons in the trees and manhandling the garbage cans. Ziggy went crazy on her leash, it was all I could do to hold her back. That little dog is strong when she goes into hunting mode!

Back at the boat we watched more and more boats arrive, most of them party boats with young people aboard. Expensive power boats, probably daddy’s money?

An entertaining afternoon with people dancing on their boat decks to Latin music.

We’re not in Kansas anymore…

Late in the day after looking at various weather sites we decided to jump off tomorrow and go to Bimini. Leaving at 4 am.

We woke up yesterday to the sounds of crew rowing all around us. Apparently there’s a rowing school here on the shores of the harbor and as it turns out we were here for their big monthly event.

They raced all morning long, and the sleek racing sailboats launched as well. When we dinghied ashore we learned the rowers were middle and high school kids. The parents were all watching, cooking on a big grill and drinking beer, not expending any energy while they watched the kids rowing their little hearts out.

We walked to Whiskey Joes to watch the UNC-Kentucky game. They got skunked.

Ziggy wasn’t too wild about the dinghy rides, she will have to get used to that if she wants to go ashore from an anchorage. I explained that to her.

Thai noodles on the boat and pretty sunset. Tomorrow we move to No Name Harbor, a jumping off point in Key Biscayne to prepare for crossing early Tuesday morning.

Not intentionally. But more later.

We took off from our slip in downtown Fort Lauderdale around 7 am and started down the river back to the waterway.

We approached the 17th Street Bridge, which was a 56′ bridge. Ed had measured our mast and down to the waterline and conservatively had estimated our clearance at 51′ at most.

But neither of us wanted to take a chance on the height, we asked for the bridge opening anyway, which was scheduled for 7:30 am.

The bridge tender came back and said it looked like we don’t need an opening, we can make it .

Nervous Nellie me, I watched the mast as we went under that bridge, scared to death our mast was going to crash into it.

But we cleared, and as Ed thanked the tender he said “Sure Captain, I was just trying to save you money, it’s a $10,000 fine for an unnecessary bridge opening.”

Whoa! That’s a shocker, we will remember that next time, we know we can do a 56′ bridge.

So we got out on the ocean with the sails, very calm seas, only a couple miles off the coast.

When the wind died, Ed went up to take the sail down. And I was at the helm with both motors going.

All of a sudden the speed died, I thought a motor had quit.

Ed came back and checked the port motor. It had stopped.

“Dammit, we are caught on a ball!”

“What?? A ball?” I was looking for Ziggys toy squeaky ball but it was on the boat.

It was a crab pot plastic float ball, caught on the prop with the line holding us stopped like an anchor, in 45+ deep seas.

Ed got the boat hook and tried to push the ball off.

No luck.

Then he made the decision.

“I’m going in.”

“What? You can’t do that, get the knife and cut the line.” I had no desire to have him in the water two miles out.

But he was adamant. “I have no choice, I have to get under there and get that ball off.” He headed down to put swim trunks on. Then he tied a line around him and to the boat and went in.

God please get us out of this, I was praying while he was working under there. I promised I would pray more often if He got us out of this.

“Kass move the boat forward.” I did that. Then, “Kass move the boat backward.” I did that too. Of course it was the other engine we were using, not the one he was working on, otherwise we would have run over my captain.

Finally he comes back up, saying we are clear, move forward. I did that and he started the engine that had been hung up.

Success! She started! We were back on our way with the f…ing plastic ball trailing away from us on the ocean ready to attack the next unsuspecting vessel.

The rest of the trip was thankfully un eventful, as we made our way to the Marine Stadium anchorage in view of the Miami skyline.

Oh, and we saw 4 or 5 more balls in our path before we got here.?? I sat on the bow to look for them as we came down the shoreline; we weren’t going to be victimized again.

Little bastards didn’t get us. So there!!

We already knew she was certifiable, a dog with crazy eyes and habits like trying to climb a tree after a squirrel and rolling in the grass every chance she gets.

But now she’s legal for the islands – checked by the vet here in Fort Lauderdale, rabies, shots and health certificated (is that a word?) and micro-chipped for good measure.

The microchip is now required in the islands, which I didn’t know. It’s not a tracking GPS signal:), just identifies me as her mama should she get lost.

And the Bahamas requires her certificate to be signed by a vet here within 48 hours of arriving there. That’s virtually impossible on a sailboat because it takes a day to cross and you have to have the right wind and weather conditions.

It looks like we might be able to go over early next week so that would make the certificate 7 days old. I figure it will be hard to make the 10 date into a 16 or 17 date (forged of course) so I might have to use the strategy the vet suggested.

“Oh just slip them a $20 and you will be good to go,” she smiled, holding out the palm of her hand.

Money talks in the Bahamas. And everywhere else I guess!

By the way I finished my 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle (bottom pic)!

We are headed out in the early morning on the ocean to an anchorage outside Miami called Marine Stadium. Supposed to be awesome views of the skyline.

After visiting Publix 2 blocks away for a few staples, I went over to the riverfront park for the monthly Jazz Brunch they have here.

There were two gazebos with great singers. Ladies of all varieties danced and swayed to the music. The park was filled with happy people drinking and dining on blankets.

There were as many dogs as people I think, and Ziggy got a Christmas corsage from the local Boxer rescue group…so cute.

We hit a couple of sports bars to watch the NFL games and UNC b-ball. The first was the Tilted Kilt, with all the servers in kilts. I told Ed he needs to do that, man-up as the Scotsman he is!
Not happening.

Then we went to the Original Fat Cats where puppies came into the bar so Ziggy could join us. The heels slaughtered ECU.

View out the back of the boat is awesome. Full moon adds an eerie feel.

What a contrast, going from anchoring out two days ago to tying up to the city docks in Fort Lauderdale.

We made our way yesterday past 17 bridges but were lucky in the timing on most and only had to wait 20 minutes at maybe one or two bridges. The George Bush Bridge opened the quickest, imagine that!

The homes we passed on the waterway in Boca Raton were way-past-incredible. But we never saw anybody in them, just gardeners working outside. Everyone has a pool with Greek statues and expensively furnished patios. Can’t imagine what the interiors are like.

We made our way finally through the last bridge and headed down the New River to Fort Lauderdale. It was windy and narrow, I got nervous around some bends because we couldn’t see approaching boats.

We spotted the downtown docks and our intended slip. Ed had to swing the boat around within a narrow area to tie up in the starboard side. I jumped out to tie the bow. Then the current pushed us and we couldn’t get in position. So we had to start over and finally got it tied up.

It’s an incredible place. We have 40 story condos across the river, we are right beside a city park. When we arrived it was mid-afternoon Saturday, high-party-boat time. Boat after boat came by with the young ones bikini-clad and beer-chugging, sharing their pumped up music blaring over their boat speakers.

We are in Fort Lauderdale!

Will be exploring downtown today. Publix is two blocks away, there are sports bars galore. Ed will find a place to watch football. I will check out the first Sunday Jazz Brunch in the park, then football.

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Yesterday we passed through 13 bridges from Jupiter to Lantana Florida. Only one was high enough to pass under with our 47′ mast. The rest were on a schedule. The longest wait we had was 45 minutes, Ed is getting lots of practice at idling, going in circles, etc. based on the currents and how long we have to hang out waiting for the opening.

We wanted to go outside after Lantana but the inlet bridge is fixed and too low. So after spending the night at the Loggerhead Marina we are once again facing a day of bridge waits.

We have 35 miles to go to Ft Lauderdale and 17 bridges. Will be a slow day but at least it’s a beautiful warm one!

Yes we are here. It’s called Hell’s’ Gate and I’m not sure why yet, hope I don’t find out anytime soon.

Backup. We left Vero Beach about 8:30 this morning and headed down the waterway. After a few options we decided on Palm gardens and called for a reservation. It would be 4:30 or later getting there but that’s okay we wanted to get further.

We ran into some rain but that was okay, we kept going. We knew we had no less than 5 bridges to open for us, one was a real strange thing. You know chicken with cars? This trawler tried to beat us through the bridge, scary.

Anyway the bridges are some on demand, some on the hour or half hour, so we were planning for that.

Ed passed 3 no problem then we approached 707 after Jupiter. The bridge tender lady had an attitude.

Ed contacted her and she responded curtly “Captain let me know when you’re in sight and I’ll open the bridge for you.”

Ed responded “We’re in sight,” but she continued, ” captain you are too far, when you are closer I will open the bridge for you.”

Closer and closer no bridge opening no response.

We start turning a 360 because we are getting too close and she is still letting traffic go, not opening the bridge. The bridge bitch as we renamed her finally told us there was a problem with the bridge; it couldn’t reopen; she’s calling the mechanic. She says it might be 15 minutes before the mechanic arrives.

We turned around to backtrack since we couldn’t go forward. The bridge tender told us the maintenance guy was 30 minutes away. We knew we wouldn’t make our marina plan so we looked for close north anchorages.

Hells Gate was the closest. After a couple tries we anchored (first time) and the boat is holding as i speak. We may do watches to check on it tonight.

Best thing was we spent no money today as we are anchored out. Barbecued ribs on the grill with potatoes and grilled veggies on the boat and anchored free. Ziggy got bones!

By the grace of God we came to the gates of Hell and our anchor is holding!

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They call it Velcro Beach cause so many people come to that marina and never leave. We made it there by 2:30 after leaving Cocoa at daybreak.

It was a beautiful day on the waterway, we put the headsail up and made good time. Ed enjoyed beating another sailboat on the way (no he’s not competitive).

After we got to the dock and refueled, I was trying to take off the lines so we could move the boat to the slip when I heard a wolf whistle?

Now don’t get me wrong, at 60 years old I would appreciate that type of attention but it definitely threw me off guard. With some help from a dockhand I dealt with the lines and looked back.

It was a couple of birds in a cage on the dock who were whistling and talking at people.

Indiscriminately.

Oh well that burst my bubble for the day. Ziggy didn’t quite know what to make of them either, not sure she’s ever encountered talking birds before.

We took a 2-mile walk to the beach town to get me more cold meds and cough drops. It was nice to get some exercise and Ziggy needed her toenails trimmed from pavement walking.

That evening we strolled over to the sports bar on the waterfront and watched the heels lose .

I got back late Monday night and Ed and Ziggy picked me up at the Orlando airport in the rental car. Ziggy almost licked my face off, we were all happy to be reunited.

My head cold over the past week was easing up but still a factor, I needed more rest.

Tuesday was our day to get provisions and get the boat ready to head out early Wednesday. After getting the head sail back on, we walked out to the parking lot to the car.

“Oh sir I’m so sorry I hit your car.” The slightly plump woman in black walked up to Ed as soon as she saw us.
“No you didn’t! How did you do that??” Ed was stunned and I was aghast.

“I don’t know I just tried to back up and turned too close I guess I’m so sorry…” She was close to tears.
We checked out the damage, it wasn’t that bad, just a scrape in the right rear side. On the other hand, her left front fender was almost ripped off.
She had called the police, who took their sweet time getting there. We got the police report and headed for Publix.

After turning the car in we spent the afternoon at the marina office doing laundry.

In walks a huge guy who had to lower his head to get in the door. His name was Martin and he was Swedish. He was 6’7″ and planning to hang out for a week or do in his boat in the marina.
We ran into him later at the local pizza hangout, Ryan’s, where he bought us a beer and joined us outside.

We learned that Martin had just bought his boat a month ago near Baltimore and was headed somewhere south.

He said he wanted to go to Cuba, plant the Swedish flag and then head further. He said “I’m a socialist,” but we learned he actually was a capitalist.

Ed asked “How do you get to do this, not working, you’re not old like us?” Martin laughed and said we were elderly. No! We protested that moniker.

Martin was 39. He smiled and said he recently sold his business in Sweden and wanted to sail the islands.

“What was your business?” We were getting comfortable with each other by this time.

“A candy store, called Candy Palace.” Or the Swedish equivalent.

Martin explained that Scandinavian candy (smagodis) is known as the best in the world. His store carried 500 different kinds, where you “pick and mix,” and he sold 3000 pounds a week!

He told us that American candy was basically “crap.” I asked him if any stores in the US offered this type of candy. He told us to visit Sockerbit in New York, probably the most popular candy store in the world.

Hmmmm. My wheels were turning. Perhaps my little shop in Wilmington should morph into a Swedish candy store. That would be unique! I’ve never seen a fat Swede so maybe their candy is not so sweet.

Naaaah.

https://www.sockerbit.com/shop.html