Beginning

Our approximate route, complete with actual quotations from the logbook

This is Amante in Corpus Christi Texas, just before we left. We hated the color. The minty green reminded us of a 1950's toothpaste commercial.

We left Corpus Christi, Texas, in December 2002. This was our first blue-water passage. We didn't fully appreciate the power of a cold front in the ocean. We thought that we would be far enough offshore to be safe from any serious winds and seas. Wrong! In our baptism at sea, a huge wave broke over the bow and took out our dodger/bimini. It was right out of Hollywood: the wave flew over the deck in slow motion, a wall of water with our names on it. The waterwall tore our sun-baked bimini right off the frame. About the same time, another wave took all our fuel jugs, which were poorly secured, along with 250' of anchor line. Amazing! Welcome to the Gulf of Mexico. We were in for a real ride, in spades!

At some point after passing numerous oil rigs, the spinnaker halyard fell overboard and became wrapped around the propeller. In the process the halyard had also wrapped itself around the top of the forestay, thus making it impossible to furl the jib, which would be bad if the wind picked up, which it certainly did. Monty Python could not have written a more ludicrous script!

At some point another front came through, packing winds of up to 40 kts. We tried reefing the main sail. In the process, the lazy jack on one side, which is rigging designed to keep the sail on the boom, broke. This caused the sail to fall off to one side, all over rigging that bristled with sharp cotter pins. The sharp steel cut the sail to pieces while the Capt watched helplessly while hanging onto the boom in gale-force winds and seas. When we tried to remove the halyard from the sail the wind caught it and it became wrapped around a backstay, oh about 30' off the deck. About this time the Reader is asking why we did not shorten sail prior to all these mishaps. Well, most of the time the wind came on abruptly. Also, as we mentioned, we had never ever sailed before. This was a learn as you go while reading the script for foul weather passages.

About this time we attempted to partially furl the jib. This was thwarted by the spinnaker halyard, which prevented the roller furler from rolling. All we could do then was drop it. After a lengthy struggle the jib came down, we forget why, but it was better than having it flogging in the gale. It naturally fell overboard, this necessitating many enjoyable hours trying to get it on deck, all the while gasping in the repeated waves breaking over the bow. Neptune was initiating us.

At this point we had only one sail, the mizzen, which is not too useful in the situation at hand. We had no shelter in the cockpit and it gets cold in the Gulf of Mexico in December. Being about 100nm from the coast we decided to turn back and regroup. We motored back to Corpus and some well-deserved rest. So ends our confessional and first attempt to cross the Gulf.

After spending the Christmas holidays in the marina trying to beg people to make a new bimini and repair the sails and rigging, we set forth again in mid-January 2003. The season was getting bad insofar as the cold fronts were arriving 2-3 per week. We knew it would take over a week to sail directly to the Dry Tortugas, our intended landfall. Nonetheless, time was running out to reach Trinidad by August, assuming we wanted to see anything on the way.

The second time we were better prepared and less complacent. We fought front after front, at one point almost being knocked down at night in a gale. About due south of New Orleans, a hydraulic line broke, thus rendering our steering useless. The Capt had to try soldering the fatigue crack in the tubing, using electrical solder and a propane torch, during which we lay a-hull, i.e. sideways to the waves, rolling so badly the parts kept sloshing around the cabin. Fortunately, we had enough fluid to refill the system and get our steering back in operation.

We had felt pretty good toward the end of the passage, then we got hit by another front, this one around 100nm west of the Tortugas. About this time we had a shroud break, which made using the mainsail potentially dangerous. We tried motoring, which lasted only a brief time due to heavy seas clogging fuel filters. After changing the engine filter, the starter broke. There was a spare starter, but it had become corroded by sea water. In attempting to run the generator, its filter had become clogged as well and that starter burned up during the attempt to restart it. At this point we had very little battery power left and only the wind generator to provide power. That might have worked but we were sailing downwind and the generator won't point aft into the wind. We call this "pleasure boating" or 'yachting 101'.

Here we see a pleasure boater in his natural habitat. If you look at his left leg, you will notice it is covered in bruises. This is from crashing into hard objects for a week. The vacant stare is caused by no sleep for 3-4 days. Our 'on the job training' was a 24 hour tutorial.

Our first landfall, the first of many we have skipped. With our electric power failing by the hour, we needed a place with help and parts, in this case Key West.

As we approached Key West, we noted two possible entrances: there was one north up the main channel used by cruise ships, or a smaller channel bearing to the northeast. We didn't want to meet a cruise ship with our limited maneuverability, so we elected to take the smaller channel. Of course, this meant the wind would be blowing from the northeast. We tried tacking our way up the channel, which would have been exhausting without the additional factor of no sleep in 4 days. Feeling liked boated fish, we finally surrendered and called a tow service. Two hours and $400 later we dropped anchor near Key West.

Here's we are just off "Wisteria" island. Note the jib's UV cover flapping like a banner; it had rubbed off on a spreader while hove to. The picture was taken from a water taxi, a handy service in Key West. We discovered that when we went to the dingy dock in our own dink the Florida sea police (whatever they're called: we called 'em "water pigs") would pull us over and demand to see our Florida registration; the same officers did that to us every single day.

We spent a couple of weeks getting new starters ($1000) and fixing the broken rigging. We enjoyed Key West; although it has gotten way too touristy, it still has a bit of its old charm. There are numerous chandleries available to fix the wide variety of other broken stuff accumulated from our first big passage and lots of restaurants with good seafood. It was the coldest winter in ten years!

Our next challenge was to make the big jump across the Gulf Stream to the Bahamas. We studied the best places to wait for favorable conditions and decided to set out for Boot Key Harbor (Marathon). There didn't seem to be to many anchorages along the Keys and we weren't all that experienced, so we went for what seemed to be safe. Naturally, when we left Key West something had to break; in this case, we discovered the autopilot so longer steered the boat with the same enthusiasm as before. We didn't want to leave the US without a functioning autopilot, which meant our stay in Marathon would be a few weeks longer (and thousands more) than the couple of days planned.

We found that Boot Key Harbor offered great shelter. So did 40,000 other boats. We squeezed in after being invited to move by elsewhere various floating curmudgeons. The next step was to order $2000 worth of autopilot parts and rip out the old unit. We also rented a car and drove to Miami, discovering in the process why Key West was only a 2-day drive from there. That may appear an exaggeration, but it was at least an 8-hour drive From Miami to Marathon, mostly because car wrecks would completely shut down the highway.

Finally, the time came for us to bid farewell to the harbor, get fuel and prepare to sail for the Bahamas. We thought of departing from somewhere closer to Miami, but figured the Gulf Stream would tend to move us further north than we planned to go anyway. Our intended destination was Cat Cay; we had never sailed outside the US before and it appeared to be the easiest place to make landfall. Join us as we blunder our way to the Bahamas!

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