Changing Plans

We have often said our cruising plans were written in the sand at low tide. I can’t recall when we last left on a “planned” cruise and it actually ended as planned. This time has turned out to be no exception. To help understand why, you need to know that we are not cruising on a retirement income nor did we make big bucks in the stock market. Each of the extended cruises means years of planning, saving and working toward that goal. We settle in for as long as it takes, find the best employment we can in our fields and work on the boat while we are stashing everything we can save in the bank. We try to determine what the trip will cost and how long we will be able to stay out there before the bank account hits the magic number, telling us it is time to go back to work to begin the cycle all over again. That means each cruise must have a beginning, a middle and an end. Our average timeframe for each is 18 to 24 months. This strategy has allowed us to have some wonderful experiences for many years without fear that our plans might never come to fruition because of health or family issues. Unfortunately, we have seen many of our friends whose dreams were quashed for these same reasons, just when their goals were in sight.

Waylaid along the way

Sea Trek and her crew left Marathon, Fla., on April 9, 2005, for a long planned extended cruise through the western Caribbean to include Mexico, Belize, Guatemala, a Panama Canal transit and a trip up the Pacific Coast to Southern California.

A two-week stop in the Rio Dulce in Guatemala turned into a five-month visit — not only because it turned out to be a wonderful cruising ground, but because once we entered the river the hurricane season began with a vengeance. During that time we soaked up all that Guatemala had to offer. Inland trips to see the volcanoes at Lake Atitlan, several trips to visit Guatemala City, walks on the black sand beaches on the Pacific side and visits to the Mayan ruins in Copan Honduras. On two occasions we volunteered with other cruisers to do medical clinics in some of the remote Indian villages with “Jungle Medic” Bryan Buchanan and his wife Riechelle (www.junglemedicmissions.org). We watched as the months progressed and the storms marched across the Caribbean and took aim on the coastline of the United States. We actually left the river in October and only traveled 50 miles north into Belize when another storm chased us back.

The brute force of nature

The Gulf Coast seemed to become the primary target area for these ferocious storms. As we watched from the safety of the Rio Dulce, we also realized that time was going to run out on us and we would have to backtrack to the United States instead of pressing on south through the Panama Canal. As we watched the destruction along the U.S. coast on CNN through the local satellites, we began to wonder what we could expect once we returned. Our first glimpse came as we arrived in Isla Mujeres, Mexico, to make the final jump back to the United States. As we approached the island we noticed that something was different, but we could not immediately put our finger on it. As we sailed closer it became apparent that it was the strange, almost reddish color coming from the shorelines. Finally we came to realize that this was the color of the mangrove trees that cover most of the western shore. They had been stripped of all green vegetation. Sunken boats and wreckage were everywhere and some facilities were still not operating as they had when we passed through eight months earlier.

Our stay in Isla during the Christmas holidays was still a pleasant one, albeit a little shorter than when we passed through the previous April. An excellent weather window opened for us to cross the Gulf Stream the next three days, so off we went on an extremely calm motor back to the Florida Keys.

An altered landscape

On New Year’s Eve 2006, we crossed the reef off Marathon and dropped anchor just outside Boot Key Harbor Channel at about 9 p.m. As we approached in the dark using known GPS coordinates and our radar, we noted what at first appeared to be an island showing up on the radar screen. We knew that was not possible so we approached carefully and realized as we got closer that it was a large group of boats anchored outside of the main harbor. This was the first indication that things had changed since we left — and not for the better. Hurricane Cindy crossed the Gulf and made landfall near Grande Isle, La., around July 6. Hurricane Dennis had passed just west of Key West around July 9 and made landfall near Gulf Breeze, Fla., on July 10. The now infamous Katrina made landfall Aug. 25 in the Miami/Dade area and passed just a few miles north of the Keys. Katrina re-entered the Gulf and we have all seen the devastation in the New Orleans area. On Sept. 20 Hurricane Rita intensified about 100 nautical miles east southeast of Key West and then increased in strength and passed within 40 miles of Key West. Rita marched across the Gulf of Mexico and made landfall Sept. 24 at Johnson’s Bayou, La., just east of Sabine Pass. And it still wasn’t over. On Oct. 24 Wilma made landfall near Cape Romano, Fla., just north of the Keys. These were all areas we were about to cover since we had decided to relocate our base of operations to Kemah, Texas, on Clear Lake, just south of Houston rather than the Keys — our base for 10 years.

Closed for business

We decided to make our transit via the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway instead of a direct crossing of the Gulf of Mexico. These decisions were made after a great deal of research regarding the condition of the waterways and what facilities would or would not be available along our route.

The most damage to the boating infrastructure in the Keys appeared to be on the gulf or “bay” side. The downtown waterfront of Key West also took quite a beating. The reason we found so many boats anchored outside Boot Key Harbor was the harbor had become extremely crowded, even more than normal for this time of year. Many marinas in the middle Keys on the bayside had been destroyed. To add insult to injury, one of the more popular marinas in Boot Key Harbor had survived but had been converted into private condo slips, selling for $225,000 and not available to transients. Two other marinas in the harbor have been taken over by a large corporation and have doubled their transient slip fees. Many boats had been damaged in the storms and repair facilities were stretched to the limit. The three marinas in Marathon with haulout capabilities were fully operational. An added problem for these facilities is that many of their former employees left to avoid the storms and did not return, leaving them shorthanded. We found this problem was not confined to Florida, but is a problem all along the Gulf Coast. Some marinas will only take transients for a day or two and another large marina with slips in Boot Key Harbor and on bayside closed completely this past June. Plans to renovate and reopen are up in the air, but we’re told this facility will be closed for quite some time.

Settle in and regroup

Our stay in Boot Key Harbor stretched on to six weeks. During that time we had strong fronts coming down from the mainland, bringing heavy rain and winds of 30 to 40 knots, sometimes for days. We took an unscientific count and estimated there were well over 400 boats in the harbor, anchored on top of one another. Each front brought boats swinging and dragging into each other and some interesting conversations on the VHF. Sea Trek was fortunate enough to find a small corner of the harbor that avoided the potential for disaster that seemed to arrive about every three days like clockwork. Having multiple anchors out and well- set was a matter of survival. We did use this time to relax as best we could, visit friends and take care of business that we could only do in the States. Things like renewing our communications source (a cell phone), restocking on good old American groceries and making a few minor repairs on the boat, since the marine supply store was a short dinghy ride from where we were anchored. It began to feel like we would be trapped in this harbor for months. Twice we had received weather reports of a break in the fronts, only to have those reports change significantly the day before we planned to leave. Anyone who has been following our adventure is well aware of our feelings about the ability of the NWS to accurately predict the weather anywhere near a watery portion of the planet. If sailing has taught us nothing else, it is patience and after what seemed like a long time, the front began to get lighter and soon began to dissipate north of our position. It was a good sign, and eventually our opportunity to escape arrived and we jumped on it. Once again we would be sailing into new territory and with all of the destruction we had seen from the media we were a bit apprehensive. But then that is the case any time we strike out for parts unknown. The entire Gulf Coast lay ahead of us with well over a thousand miles to go.

Welcome Home

After being in the Western Caribbean for well over 12 months, we expected some changes when we returned to the United States, but were totally unprepared for the extent of those changes in such a short time. This was especially true of what had been our home base for the past 10 years, Boot Key Harbor in the Florida Keys. Replacement and rebuilding of marinas and resorts are still in progress from the 2005 storm season and with the closing of a major transient resort in Marathon as well as conversion of several facilities to expensive condo slips, most anchorages that offer decent protection have become crowded. In the major boating centers of Marathon and Key West access to shoreside resources and attractions from anchored boats is also growing more scarce. 

The situation in Boot Key Harbor will only continue to worsen for those traveling to the Keys looking for open anchorages for the winter months when the current plans to expand the present mooring field to more than twice the present size is implemented. On the plus side, it will bring some organization to the Harbor and the dangers of your boat being damaged from anchor draggers should lessen. The moorings will help alleviate the pressures left from the loss of slip space and the doubling of transient rates of marinas still open to the public. Another issue that compounds the crowding in these harbors is the weather patterns that prevail during most of the winter months. Even though the crossing from the mainland United States to the Bahamas is much shorter from West Palm Beach or the Key Biscayne/Miami area, many boaters come to the Keys for a period of time and then make a direct run from either Marathon or Key Largo to South Riding Rock on the Florida Straights of the Bahamas Banks. 

Typically the winter fronts extending from low-pressure systems moving from west to east across the United States will come off the southwest Texas coast and move southeast until they pass through the Keys. In the height of the winter boating season those fronts can push through every three days for weeks and weeks. They can pack lots of rain and winds up to 40 knots that might blow continuously for three to five days. As they blow out a new front comes through and the whole thing begins anew. Making the 48-hour run to a sheltered harbor in the Bahamas is difficult for many sailboats, so you begin to feel “trapped” after several weeks go by with no breaks in site. This was the case for us after an incredibly calm, quiet motor from Isla Mujeres, Mexico, across the Gulf Stream to return to the Keys.

Across the Gulf

After six weeks in Marathon, we began our slow transit along the Gulf Coast. From this point on we were entering new territory for us. Our first stop was Little Shark River on the west coast of Florida. From our anchorage in Boot Key Harbor to our planned anchorage near the entrance to the river we would cover 44 miles across the open Gulf. That meant we would prepare ourselves and the boat the same as if we were heading out into the open ocean. Even though it looked like we would have a good solid five-day weather window to move north, we had been fooled before.

As we headed out of the harbor and motored under the Seven Mile Bridge for the trek north, we found the forecast east wind coming out of the northeast at about 15 knots and the day was cloudy and cool considering how far south we were. That means motorsailing and that’s what we did for all but two hours of the transit. At around 3 in the afternoon the easterlies finally kicked in and we actually sailed for a couple of hours. The Shark River is a hurricane hole for boaters in the Keys and south west Florida so we know the river is deep enough for Sea Trek’s 6-foot draft, but we also know the entrance can be tricky since nearby shoals do shift around after storms.

As we approached the outer markers we were having a case of deja vu all over again. The same reddish hue over the landscape that greeted us in Isla Mujeres was clearly present all along the coast here. The damage to the plant life was quite stark since all of the trees were virtually stripped of leaves and other vegetation was dead from the intrusion of salt water from last year’s hurricanes. As we got closer to our planned anchoring spot, however, there was a hint of returning growth.

We were amazed since so much time had passed since the hurricane season of ’05. By our estimates, it may take another year or more for the area to return to normal, assuming no more major storms make landfall here. Facilities in Flamingo and Everglades City near Cape Sable were beginning to rebuild and recover but are still limited. One of our concerns was the availability of fuel since we knew this would be a motoring trip more than a sailing one. Prior to leaving Marathon, we collected the phone numbers of as many marinas and facilities as we could find along our route. The plan was to call ahead by cell phone to keep track of what was open and how far we might need to travel before food, fuel and whatever else we might need would be available.

From Little Shark we moved on to Indian Key just west of Everglade City and found the landscape to be the same. This was the area where Wilma made landfall and it took on a bleak appearance.

We dropped anchor just inside Indian Key Pass near our friends on the trawler Diamond Girl that we had met in Marathon. We had dinner together and did a little dinghy exploration.

The boat traffic from commercial fisherman and shrimp trawlers was pretty heavy and they ran all hours of the day and night. And they ran past us at full speed, some throwing up very large wakes.

In addition to Sea Trek and Diamond Girl, there were another three boats at anchor. It is a lovely anchorage, but unless you can find a spot well off the main channel we would not do it again. Care must be taken outside the main channel since shifting shoal areas will put you hard aground. The bottom is sandy so this can be no more than an inconvenience, but anytime you are anchoring you need to consider the boat’s draft, the current state of the tide and the tidal range for the geographic area you are in.

Feeling our way

From Indian Key our next stop was Marco Island and we already had received reports of the problems there from the storms and from proposed restriction of anchoring vessels. Many channel markers along this route had been damaged, destroyed or relocated and could not be relied upon. As we entered the channel into Marco Island, we paid close attention to our depth sounder and used our GPS with our electronic charts to try and maintain the channel and stay out of the new shoal areas that had shifted due to wind and seas from the storms. Just as you enter the main channel to Marco Island a very popular anchoring stop known as Coconut Island no longer exists and is now only a very shallow area that is completely submerged. The island was actually destroyed by a storm two years prior. Once inside the main anchorages of Factory Bay or Smokehouse Bay, you are completely protected from weather in almost any direction. In Factory Bay you can access shoreside facilities from the large marina at the north end of the bay.

In Smokehouse Bay access is via docks at a new and very large shopping and restaurant complex, and is completely free. We were anchored in Factory Bay with several other boats but only saw two boats anchored in Smokehouse Bay. Marinas are open, and fuel and groceries are readily available. Many restaurants, shopping centers theaters and marine supply stores are within easy walking distance from either bay. There has been a move to restrict anchoring here, but the local government has seen the light and for the time being that is not an issue, but as with all else in Florida that can change tomorrow. Boat traffic is very heavy here during the day but they all seem to go home after sunset. The currents run very strong in the channels but both bays are relatively free except for tidal changes. Our three days here were pleasant and relaxing and we highly recommend Marco Island as a must-stop if cruising this coast. 

After three days at Marco we moved on to Fort Myers Beach but found that the entire anchorage had been converted to moorings and unless we planned to stay at one of the marinas or pay for a mooring buoy we were not welcome. Basically when we asked where we might anchor, we were told to either pay for dockage or leave — so we left. It did appear that most facilities were functioning here, but we know very little about service or availability. We anchored in San Carlos Bay for the night and headed north in the morning. From this point on we would be traveling on the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway instead of in the open Gulf as we had been up until now. Mile Zero begins at the mouth of the Caloosahatchee River where you can continue on along the GIWW or head across Florida on the Okeechobee Waterway. The stretch from Mile Zero to the southern tip of Pine Island Sound is known as the Miserable Mile because of the strong currents that sweep across the marked channel at a sharp angle and can put a slow-moving vessel in shallow water if the skipper is not paying attention.

We must have hit the “mile” at just the right time around slack water since we had no current and actually found it to be a picturesque section of the waterway. The only negative was the enormous amount of small boat traffic the skippers of which seemed to have no clue as to how to safely pass another vessel. Our mileage for this day would be a short 21 miles to a beautiful anchorage across from Useppa Island that we shared with six other boats. Useppa is a private island with restored cottages and a mansion built around 1912 complete with a museum, tennis courts and a 16-foot-by-16-foot chessboard with 3-foot-tall pieces. Our anchorage was just outside the waterway channel markers so once again we had the wakes from passing boat traffic to contend with. From Useppa we worked our way to Manasota Key, and anchored just behind the highway bridge. Anchorages here are few and are just outside the waterway channel. As the tide went out over night we found ourselves aground but by midmorning the next day the tide came back in and we were on our way.

Along the GIWW

This stretch of the Florida west coast seemed to be untouched from the storms of the previous years compared to what we had seen previously. All of the marinas were open for business except those being converted into condos and there were several of those. Fuel and grocery stops were plentiful and we enjoyed some great weather for the next couple of weeks. All of the cruising guides for this stretch warn about shallow water and with Sea Trek’s 6-foot draft we were a bit concerned. But as long as we did not stray outside of the marked channels, we found plenty of water and indeed only saw water below 7 feet in one area near an inlet. Most of the rest of the waterway averaged 10 to 12 feet. But keep in mind that depths and bottom configurations are constantly changing so finding and using local knowledge is important. We subscribe to one of the commercial towing services and armed with their telephone numbers all along our route, we only had to make a call to one of their captains and we could get up to date details on channel changes, shoals and missing markers. Our travels along the GIWW, through Tampa Bay, and on to Tarpon Springs and beyond were a very pleasant transit with great anchorages in charted deeper waters and beautiful scenery. Except for occasional fog, which is not uncommon in the spring and fall, it was a very relaxing cruise. But more about that later.

Feeling Our Way

One of the tensest days of our entire trip began on a beautiful morning as we left our anchorage at Manasota Key. The day started with us aground after a tide shift moved us over a shallow spot and the tide dropped to mean low. With a short hour wait and a bit of maneuvering through the soft mud bottom, we were back in the channel and under way with only a minimum of inconvenience.

Ninety minutes later Sea Trek was transiting the Venice Avenue Bridge at Statute Mile 56.6 and we noticed what at first looked like smoke just beyond the bridge. As we crossed under the bridge and it was closing behind us we realized this was a fog bank and it was quickly getting denser.

This stretch of the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway is very shallow outside of the channel and we knew of no place Sea Trek could pull over and anchor with her 6-foot draft. So continuing on was our only option and we could only hope the fog would soon burn off as it usually did.

In situations like this we need every electronic weapon in our arsenal. Our radar becomes the most important piece of equipment on board. We immediately slowed to idle speed but had to keep the engine running to maintain forward movement, which made hearing other boats more difficult. We also use our laptop with an electronic chart program running to have a better handle on our exact position. But exact is not always the case with these programs and having it interfaced with the radar would have made a huge difference. I added this to the to-do list.

One of us stood watch on the foredeck with binoculars and we communicated with FSR radios, but the fog had quickly increased so we could hardly see from the bow to the stern. We used the radar to try and find the channel markers and the chart plotter to keep us heading in the direction of the channel.

Soon several additional targets were picked up by radar, which turned out to be signs and abandoned pilings just outside of the channel in shallow water. Another problem soon popped up on the radar screen as a fast-moving target seemed to be heading straight for us. We came to a full stop and waited, and suddenly out of the fog came a small powerboat running what seemed to be far too fast for the conditions. This would happen to us several times in the next several hours and we were flabbergasted by their carelessness.

The fog continued all day and we slowly picked our way from channel marker to channel marker using the radar and plotter. Careful monitoring of the depth sounder was essential and the day turned out to be a real nail-biter. We eventually arrived at the anchorage off downtown Sarasota and found a spot clear of what seems to be a community of permanently anchored vessels. It had been an exhausting day and feeling the anchor take hold and finally shutting down the engine we sat back and let the relief wash over us. A nice surprise was to find free Wi-Fi service for downtown Sarasota easily accessible on the boat.

The comfort of old friends

After a two-day rest we moved on to Ruskin off of Tampa Bay to visit some of our old cruising friends from the Bahamas and the Caribbean. The large marina in Ruskin was being converted to condos but one of our friends was a manager of the project and was able to arrange a slip for us. Our sail up the bay under the Sunshine Skyway Bridge was very relaxing after our previous experience.

It is always good to visit with old friends, especially fellow cruisers, and we had a wonderful visit. The three days went by fast, but we knew we needed to move on. We had other friends to visit just across the bay near St. Petersburg. A short 3-1/2-hour sail and we anchored once again just off the waterway behind Long Key.

The next day we moved to a dock behind our friend’s house. The charts do not cover the depths in any of the canals in this area so we tiptoed in slowly and paid close attention to the depth sounder. As it turned out the canals were much deeper than the waterway itself and we had no problems. We had not seen our friends for many years so we had a lot of catching up to do. It was nice being tied to a private dock instead of a marina for a change. After another few days we untied the dock lines, said goodbye and headed out for our next stop which was Tarpon Springs.

Our plan was to run the 30 miles to Anclote Island and anchor in the popular bay on the east side of the island. The weather forecast from the National Weather Service for the day would have made this a great sail and put us in the lee of the island — but this was not to be. The winds turned out to be 15 to 20 on the nose and the anchorage we planned to use was exposed and rolley. We had heard of an anchorage just inside the Anclote River near a park and boat ramp so we decided to give it a try. We knew we could not make Tarpon Springs before nightfall and did not want to navigate the river at night.

The anchorage turned out to be deep enough, but is very narrow with no swinging room and a very busy boat ramp gave us incentive to be up and out early the next morning; but only after we waited for the tide to come up enough for us to power off the bar at the entrance.

We had a wonderful weeklong stay at the City Marina and enjoyed the sights, sounds and tastes of Tarpon Springs.

Bridges and shallows

From Tarpon Springs to Carrabelle or Apalachicola, the trip is offshore into the Gulf of Mexico. Most skippers choose to either run along the coast just far enough offshore to avoid the shallow waters found in what is known as the Big Bend or make a direct run from Tarpon Springs to their destination. We chose the direct route to save mileage and time.

The distance to Apalachicola across the Gulf is only seven miles longer than to Carrabelle, but if you make landfall at Carrabelle and take the inside route to Apalachicola it is 25 miles longer. There is also a 50-foot bridge on the inside route, which we could not pass under with Sea Trek’s 57-foot main mast. We went directly to Apalachicola and entered the Bay through St George’s Cut, more commonly known as Government Cut. All of our guide books told us this was a well-traveled deep cut used by commercial vessels.

As we entered the cut at half-tide, the depths went from 30 feet to 20 feet to 6 feet inside the cut with a very strong current. At 6 feet we were aground but Sea Trek has a wide full keel so grounding usually means we just park.

But there was also a pretty good swell running in from the Gulf since the winds had been out of the south for the previous few days. Each swell lifted us off the shallow bottom and pushed us a little farther through the cut until we were in deeper water. Fortunately Sea Trek is a well-built vessel and is completely unaffected by this kind of punishment as she has proven over the years. We would not recommend this for vessels of less sound construction and one should take care making this entrance.

Once completely through the cut we found 12 and 15 feet of water inside the bay and anchored behind St. Georges Island for the rest of the day and that night.

Early the next morning we hauled up anchor and moved up the channel to Apalachicola, where we had planned to do a quick haul out to check our zincs and the prop and running gear. We had not done this since Guatemala. It was routine maintenance for us and had nothing to do with the grounding.

The only facility in Apalachicola turned out to have a very small lift and after a brief attempt, we called off the haul out since it was obvious that it could not haul a boat the size and weight of Sea Trek.

The manager also informed us that this marina was being closed soon and torn down to make way for a condo complex. We heard this same story over and over again along the entire Florida coast.

Although there appeared to be some storm damage here, mainly to waterfront docks and restaurants, all marinas and fuel docks we encountered were open and operational.

Stopovers quiet and crowded

We continued along the waterway to Saul Creek, a small narrow tree-lined creek six or seven miles farther on. Here we spent a few days in quiet solitude, our only visitor a Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission officer in his patrol boat, who stopped by for a friendly chat.

From there we moved on only about 14 miles to White City, where there was a (according to our FWC officer) free tie-up at the town’s launch ramp.

The name White City is a bit misleading since we did find the free tie-up at a nice park setting with a small boat launching ramp. But there is no city, only a handful of private residences and a small convenience store about three-quarters of a mile from the park. The store mainly sells beer and soft drinks along with bait and snacks. They do have gas pumps, but do not sell diesel. You can leave trash and take on water at the dock.

From here we needed to re-enter the Gulf of Mexico as there are a few fixed 50-foot bridges along this section of the waterway that we cannot get under.

From our tie-up at White City, out to the Gulf by the five-mile-long Gulf County Canal and into the entrance at Panama City was only about 32 miles. After passing under the 65-foot bridge in Port St. Joe, we followed the deep ship channel out of St. Joseph’s Bay into the Gulf. From this point we stayed a few miles offshore and quickly arrived at the entrance to St. Andrews Bay. Upon entering the ship channel, Grande Lagoon to port is a favorite stopover here. The channel into Grande Lagoon has been recently dredged and channel markers installed. Entrance is easy, but be aware that boat traffic is very heavy.

As we entered the lagoon we noticed a number of vessels both power and sail still pushed up on the shoreline of the State Park on the south side of the bay. Boats were also sunk and sometimes upside-down outside the marked channel a bit farther in. Construction on the north shore was going on for both new buildings and repairs of damaged buildings. All of the local marinas were open and fuel was also available here.

This is largely a powerboat community, but the channels are deep enough and dockage can be found for deeper-draft sailboats. Haul-outs for sailboats are not available in Grande Lagoon, but powerboats can be hauled.

The wakes from passing boats makes this an unpleasant anchorage for anything other than a short time.

After resting overnight we moved up into the Bay to Watson Bayou. On the way we passed the municipal marina downtown, with all facilities in the heart of Panama City. But we usually opt for the more out of the way anchorages and were soon comfortable in Watson Bayou. There is a nice small marina that has been here for many years, but has apparently succumbed to condo fever. It, too, is to be closed soon and all of the slip renters displaced.

Several boats are anchored in the Bayou here and have obvious damage, some with masts down and hulls cracked and scraped. There are also a few boats washed ashore including one that is sitting perfectly upright, as if it was in storage. This entire bay will soon be developed into a large condo complex with access to slips and shore-side facilities only available to owners. We spent more than a week here waiting for some cold heavy weather to pass since it is well protected.

One last offshore run

Once again we needed to head out into the Gulf because of the height of the fixed bridges along the waterway. This was another overnight for us and we left Panama City in the early afternoon and arrived in Pensacola early the next morning.

Even though our runs offshore should have allowed us to do some sailing, we found the lack of wind and the direction made it necessary to motor most of the distance we covered. We were, however, pleasantly surprised with an eight-hour sail at the outset of this passage.

The entrance to Pensacola is a military and ship channel so it is deep and well-marked. There are marinas with transient slips, haul-out facilities and fuel available in Pensacola, but keep in mind they are out of the way and off the waterway. We entered the bay then continued west and anchored behind Perdido Key in Big Lagoon. We had planned our fuel stops to skip Pensacola and fuel up in Orange Beach, Ala., only about eight miles from our anchorage stop. This area is still recovering from Hurricane Ivan, two years prior, but the two main marinas directly on the GIWW in Orange Beach have been repaired and reopened with full services including a couple of great restaurants and some of the friendliest folks we have met along this route. We stayed a couple of days longer than we had planned.

From Pensacola on, the rest of our trip to Texas would keep us on the waterway and on the relatively protected inside.

A Batterd Coast

The trip from Panama City to Pensacola is a short offshore run. At around 2 p.m. we found ourselves sitting just inside the Panama City Ship Channel waiting for a commercial ship to enter so we could exit.

As we departed the channel and turned west our forecasted “southeast winds” were blowing out of the west, southwest — the direction we needed to go. We settled back in and grumbled about the forecast.

By about 10 p.m. it finally switched to the south and we actually began sailing. By 6 a.m. the next morning we were just off the Pensacola Ship Channel.

Our last anchorage in Florida was a picture-perfect location that one might expect anywhere along the Gulf Coast, and we thoroughly enjoyed it, but it would be our last of its type. A short run up the Pensacola Ship Channel brought us back to the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway West (GIWW). A short-but-shallow land cut needs to be navigated to enter Big Lagoon. Statute Mile 175 at the west end of the lagoon takes a sharp left and the marked channel turns and heads southwest for about a half-mile. Instead of following the channel to the right after that, we continued in toward Perdido Key as close as our draft would allow.

Perdido Key is a protected barrier island with a beautiful white-sand beach facing the gulf. The anchor bit immediately in the soft sand and the water was as smooth as glass. After we settled in and took a short nap we launched the dinghy for what would be our last beach walk of the trip. The shelling wasn’t great since most public beaches are picked clean, but the surf and sea air more than made up for it. This almost turned out to be a perfect chamber of commerce day — almost.

We returned to the boat around 2 p.m. for a late lunch and were almost rocked out of our seats by a sonic boom. This was followed by the loudest roar we had ever heard. It was impossible to talk to each other for a moment and we realized that we had a front row seat to the Navy’s finest fighter pilots. Their maneuvers brought them almost at our masthead and this went on for most of the afternoon. We said a big prayer of thanks that they were not doing night maneuvers.

Through hazardous waters

After a good night’s sleep we pulled up anchor and moved a whole eight miles and into Alabama to a small marina right on the waterway. We had planned this as a fuel and clean-up stop to do laundry, wash the boat and enjoy some shoreside activities. It turned out to be a great spot with super-friendly folks, free WiFi and a fantastic restaurant. A fellow ham radio operator lent us his car for a trip to the grocery store (and to pick up a pizza). The marina facilities and fuel stops would be few and far between for the next several hundred miles.

Our next leg would be Mobile Bay and Mississippi Sound, both large, open bodies of water that are heavily traveled by commercial traffic of varying sizes and can be extremely uncomfortable if you’re caught on the wrong side of the bay in the wrong wind conditions.

Our next anchorage would be behind Dauphin Island on the west side of Mobile Bay and at the beginning of Mississippi Sound. Dauphin Island is another barrier island and the location of Fort Gains, a former Confederate stronghold that now features a museum and civil war re-enactments. There is a Coast Guard station and ferry terminal at the east end of the island.

We were warned by several reliable sources that we should not stray out of the GIWW while crossing the Mississippi Sound. Hurricanes Ivan and Katrina devastated this area and many homes, automobiles, appliances, boats and just about anything else you can imagine were unaccounted for after the storms. They are believed to litter the bottom of the Mississippi Sound and are uncharted. (This is the best reason one has to listen to your local Broadcast Notice to Mariners issued by the Coast Guard on a daily basis.)

The main channel had been cleared for commercial traffic, but the shallow sound had many dangers lurking just beneath the surface and this situation is not likely to change any time soon. We approached each anchorage just off the waterway by moving extremely slowly and keeping a close eye on the depth sounder. An eye on the weather is a must here since there are no protected anchorages from north winds without long treks across the sound, and there are no facilities from Gulf Shores to New Orleans without leaving the waterway track. (The popular marina in Dog River in the upper reaches of Mobile Bay is open and taking transients.)

After Dauphin Island, our next stop was Cat Island on the Mississippi Sound in Mississippi. Again, these anchorages should not be used in strong north winds. We were fortunate enough to have mild southerlies for this part of our passage. From here it was on to New Orleans and the biggest shock of our entire trek across this region.

Point of impact

There are no good anchorages in or near the New Orleans area. In addition, this is very much a commercial port with a great deal of commercial vessels to contend with. As we progressed west, we began encountering more of this traffic, mostly in the form of tugs pushing long strings of barges, some hundreds of feet long. A great deal of caution and care must be exercised while traveling this waterway in the company of these behemoths. A collision would be disastrous. From the time we entered this stretch of waterway until our arrival in Texas, we monitored Ch. 13 (not 16) in order to know what was going on with the big boys. We found a fair anchorage just east of New Orleans in a commercial canal known as Michoud Canal, surrounded by factories and power plants with a small basin some 40 feet deep.

The media coverage of the devastation of this area does not really prepare you for what you see with your own eyes.

We had called ahead and reached the Orleans Marina on Lake Pontchartrain, and were originally told they were not accepting any transient boats. We explained that we would only be in the area for a day and were unable to reach any other facility. They found that one of their slip holders would be gone for a while, having their boat repaired, so agreed to rent us their slip. As we turned off the waterway onto the Inner Harbor Navigational Canal, which connects the lake to the waterway, we found the Seabrook Marina within the Canal open with a few transient slips and a new fuel dock.

We continued on into the lake and as we entered the small boat harbor where Orleans Marina is located, we can only describe our reaction as shock. At the entrance is a building that resembles a lighthouse laying on its side. Another building that was a large two-story restaurant was totally decimated with the interior exposed and furniture strewn about. Boats were sunken and docks destroyed everywhere, and there were still boats sitting atop pilings and broken docks.

To someone that didn’t know better, one would think the hurricane had just come through a few days prior, not more than eight months before. There were boats piled ashore as though a child had scattered their toys, only these toys were broken.

The portion of the marina that we would stay in was tucked way back in the corner of the basin and was not as damaged at the rest of the marina. We crawled in at idle speed since the basin was full of floating debris and any face docks that had survived were full of boats tied two and three deep that were obviously being repaired.

Even in the more protected part of the harbor there were still boats that had sunk at their slips and were still underwater. Every dock had some kind of damage, even if slight, and we did not find any boat in the hundreds of slips that did not have some sort of damage. Since this was the only marina except Seabrook that was functional, they were trying to accommodate the boats that had survived but were displaced from other marinas that were destroyed. It will be many years before the boating community recovers here.

A kind couple on another boat gave us a ride for groceries and other errands and took us for some sightseeing and a visit to the French Quarter.

Downtown New Orleans is alive and well, but some of the neighborhoods near the marina were unbelievable. The break in the levee that did most of the flooding was only a half-mile from the marina and repairs were ongoing in early May 2006. Entire communities were destroyed and deserted with piles of debris everywhere. In the nearby communities, there were no people, no animals and no sounds, just destruction and devastation. It is an experience we will never forget.

Guilty goodbyes

We stayed for a few days since a strong front was on the way and the marina was kind enough to allow us the extra time. The marine industry is almost non-existent there and cannot cope with the tasks they currently have on hand. Repairs to docks and buildings had not even begun and were not even in the planning stage at the time. Many of the people we encountered seemed to be still living in a state of shock and were very unsure of the future.

We almost felt guilty about the fact that we could just untie the dock lines and go with our home and all of our belongings. People often ask us where we are from and we jokingly just point at the boat wherever she is anchored. Many thousands of people there still live in limbo and many more have left, never to return. We hope to return one day in better times.

Ever Westward

Finally leaving New Orleans, we continued on our way west. This would turn out to be one of the most challenging sections of our voyage. The entire waterway for the next 20 miles was heavily industrial, and there were no facilities and few safe spots for small vessels to stop. Great care and caution must be exercised along this section to co-exist with the large commercial traffic encountered going in either direction, which means VHF Channel 13 should be monitored at all times.

One problem sailboats encounter here is that several bridges must be opened. We found on several occasions the phones don’t work and the bridge tenders do not monitor VHF radios. The commercial traffic communicates with them by cellphone, but we found the Coast Guard does not have the cellphone numbers for the bridge tenders. We are not sure where the commercial vessels get the numbers, but we were able to get a tug to relay to a bridge that we needed them to open. We found this happened several times in New Orleans, but was not a problem anywhere else.

Cruisers must transit several bridges as well as a lock just prior to entering the Mississippi River. Then a decision must be made to continue north on the Mississippi to Harvey Locks in order to continue on or go south to Algiers Lock, both about five miles on the river. Be advised that the currents on the river can be 3 knots or more and this is a major shipping port. Expect to encounter tugs with tows, ferries, ships and all manner of vessels.

We chose the Algiers Lock just south of us instead of fighting the strong currents by going north to Harvey Lock. We were one of 15 vessels, all commercial except us, that transited that lock. We had to hold position outside the lock and just off the Mississippi River proper so any “red flag” vessels could lock through first. These are vessels carrying hazardous cargo such as gasoline, fuels, natural gas or many other products. Our wait time was almost one hour.

As we finally locked through and exited the other side we found dozens of tugs and barges on the side of the waterway waiting for their turn through. It was an impressive experience and we realized our place in this pecking order. We also understood why the lockkeepers would not allow us to lock through with these giants.

Quiet anchorages

Our first stop beyond New Orleans was Lafitte. There is a small convenience store with marine supplies and a fuel dock just off the waterway at the Barataria Waterway. If you arrive when they are closing for the day, about 4 p.m., you can tie up for the night for a small fee, but you must be off the dock early the next morning when boats begin to come in for fuel.

There are also two other small marinas a few miles farther south on the Barataria, but no haul-out facilities. This river is also used by tugs and barges. The encounters with these tows were getting heavier and we were counting 15 to 20 a day — and on one day stopped counting after 30.

After spending the night at Lafitte we traveled another 38 nautical miles to Houma and the pleasant, friendly municipal marina between the twin bridges. There is no marina office so you have to call a number posted on the bulletin board and the friendly dockmaster comes to your boat and collects the dockage charge. No fuel or services are available here, but it is a nice place to stop and there is one charge no matter what size your boat. Water and electricity are available on the dock for no extra charge. Shops and restaurants are within walking distance. The marina is also next to the local hospital and many shops are within walking distance.

The town was untouched by the 2005 hurricanes.

The next stretch of the waterway is beautiful and quite undeveloped except for the occasional small shipyard, but (again) no services for small craft. Our next anchorage would be Bayou Black, only 25 nautical miles from Houma. Bayou Black is another waterway frequently traveled by tugs and barges. Any stops along the way must be given that consideration.

We dropped anchor along the side of the bayou and ran a line to a tree ashore to keep us from swinging into the channel. Although we only planned to spend a day, this turned out to be such a peaceful spot we decided to just hang out for a few more days. The skippers of the tugs and barges that passed our way were friendly and we always received a wave or a whistle. They seemed to appreciate our efforts to anchor bow and stern along the shoreline well out of the channel.

Our second day we explored the bayou in the dinghy, encountering many bird species and more than a few crocs. Often we turned off the waterway and dinghied in to a break in the vegetation and found ourselves in a beautiful world of peace and quiet that probably has not changed in a thousand years. Cypress stumps, Spanish moss hanging from the trees, lily pads floating on the water and the wildlife almost ignoring us made feel guilty even starting the dinghy outboard to head back to the boat.

Not since our time on the Rio Dulce in Guatemala had we felt so attuned to nature and out of the civilized world even though it was only a short distance back to reality. All too soon it was time to continue on our westward trek.

Locks and current

The next place we found fuel available was at Intracoastal City located at Mile 160. All mileage is calculated as west of Harvey Lock for this portion of the GIWW. The fuel dock handles pleasure boats and commercial fishing vessels. There is a strong current running here so care in docking for fuel is needed. We found the approach simple since the current put us right alongside the dock. This was the cheapest fuel we had purchased so far since leaving Mexico.

This business suffered damage from Hurricane Rita when the storm surge reached about 9 feet. As a result, there is no longer a grocery store in town and many homes were destroyed.

Leaving was a more interesting experience since that same current was determined to keep us pinned to the dock. We decided to back the boat by hand back to the outside corner then try a full power reverse to get us back in the channel. This worked, but barely, since as soon as we began moving in reverse the current wanted to push the bow back to the dock.

We cleared the corner of the dock with our bowsprit, but only by inches. All along the waterway for hundreds of miles we saw many homes that had been torn apart and deserted. We were surprised to see hundreds and hundreds of appliances lining the banks of the waterway everywhere beyond this point. There were mostly refrigerators and freezers but also stoves and a few things we could not identify and we even saw some appliances up in the trees.

We also wondered what might be in the water, but figured if the tugs and barges could make it, so could we. We wondered what our anchor might bring up.

Stark reminders

Soon after entering Texas we anchored in Adams Bayou. There is a marina of sorts here that is sometimes open. We had called ahead on the phone and were told that the marina was open, and that they even had a café. When we arrived we found the marina in poor condition and the docks filled with boats that had obvious storm damage. Some had sunk and been re-floated, and others had a tattered roller furling waving in the wind.

We chose to anchor in the canal instead and dinghied ashore the next day. We never did find anyone at the marina and we were there for a couple of days. Many of the local businesses are closed and buildings are damaged, but a small grocery store is within walking distance.

No fuel or repair services were there that we could find. This is just a good protected anchorage to wait out weather. A small boat ramp nearby makes this a busy place on weekends.

Farther along the waterway there are several great anchorages, but no fuel or facilities for boats. We spent some peaceful nights in places like Avery Canal, Adams Bayou and on the Mermentau and Calcasieu Rivers along the way. There are other great stops and anchorages depending upon your draft and ability to cover distances during daylight hours.

Approaching Galveston Bay you’ll find some places to tie up at small marinas or restaurants, but no services for boaters. Fuel was a concern for us, but we were able to find it at reasonable intervals. Had we had a major breakdown, a more serious problem may have presented itself. We recommend subscribing to a commercial towing service for those unexpected events.

We made a special note of New Orleans because of the overall devastation, but many towns and areas along the waterway have also been devastated or destroyed, especially in Mississippi. Entire communities are now gone and that includes the people and businesses that cater to smaller boats such as ours. Be prepared to be self-sufficient.

Boats washed up on land and damaged boats in various conditions and states of repair can be found everywhere along this coast. Experiencing this first-hand has given us a renewed sympathy and empathy for the people and the communities, some of which may never recover. But, through it all, the people we met were extremely friendly and would do whatever they could to help us.

Our heartfelt thoughts and prayers go out to the individuals and communities along this coast, and our thanks to those that were so kind and helpful even when they themselves were in need of help.

Journeys End

Sea Trek puts in after a long and winding voyage — for as long as it takes to plan the next adventure.

We sat in the cockpit on this morning drinking our coffee and reflecting on where we had been and where we are now. Did we really do this trip or are we just waking up from a really long and pleasant dream? This is always, for us, the most difficult part of our cruises — to put into words the feelings and emotions on that last day before we must once again integrate ourselves into that “normal” part of society in which most everyone else lives.

It can’t be a dream because we are tied to the dock at a small restaurant on the ICW at the southern end of Galveston Bay. After being based out of South Florida for the past 10 years, we had to have arrived here somehow. It was time to cast off the dock lines one more time and do it.

Galveston Bay is actually made up of four bays. Galveston Bay covers the south and the northwest area while the southern portion is divided into East Bay and West Bay and Trinity Bay covering the northwest area. The bay averages 6 to 10 feet outside the dredged channels and with our 6-foot draft we needed to pay close attention. The bay is 30 miles long and at some points nearly 20 miles wide.

This is one of the busiest seaports in the United States and most certainly the busiest we have ever transited. Even as we approached the bay entrance on the Intracoastal we were aware of the parade of vessels both entering from the Gulf and from The ICW in every direction. At the same time, ships and barges were coming down the channel to exit the bay.

With everything going on we found we would not have time to wallow in the funk that usually accompanied us on our final day. As usual, we had laid out our route up the bay and put in all waypoints in the GPS the night before. We studied the charts and had a pretty good idea of where we wanted to go. The weather forecast for the day called for easterly winds to settle down to 10 to 15 knots. As we turned to starboard into the bay we were greeted with northwesterlies on our nose at about 20. Fortunately the seas had not had time to build, but it was still pretty choppy and nasty.

Our choice of a route was to travel about a mile east of the main ship channel until we reached the Redfish Point area, then cross the ship channel and run just outside the green buoys until we made the turn toward Clear Lake. What we did not anticipate was having to constantly be on the lookout for — and constantly dodging — abandoned oil platforms and the commercial fleet that was out gathering shrimp, oysters and all varieties of seafood.

Our total trip up the bay to Clear Lake would only be about 25 miles. We can usually cover this distance in about four hours. But even motorsailing, with the engine pushing hard, we found these last miles hard-fought and the going slow. Perhaps the deity that watches over fools and sailors was trying to tell us something.

An unexpected issue became apparent when it was time to cross the ship channel. With our vessel Sea Trek making only about 4 to 5 knots against wind and sea, the oncoming ships traveling up and down the channel at 18 to 20-some knots made getting across for us a bit dicey. So for about 20 minutes we just circled outside the channel until we saw an opening and had to make a decision fast and get across quickly.

We angled the boat so the wind was on the aft starboard beam, pushed the throttle full forward and shot across the channel before the next behemoth coming down the channel made fiberglass splinters out of us. We made it across with room and time to spare, but when these large ships are bearing down it doesn’t seem like it at that time. Other than the commercial vessels we were the only pleasure craft on this section of the bay today.

We pushed on to the northwest and finally hit our waypoint to make the turn toward Clear Lake.

We had reviewed the guide book for marina info and had several good recommendations from fellow cruisers from this area that we had met in the western Caribbean. This was the reason we were here to begin with. To the person, every sailor we met from Texas, or who had passed through here, told us we must go to Clear Lake. So here we are.

Based on all of that information we decided on a large marina complex just inside the lake. We had been in communication with them for about a week and arranged for a slip to park for a while. Our first plan was to stay there for a week or so, be sure that we were going to like it and scout out any others that might look inviting. As we made the turn off the ship channel we called the marina and announced our arrival. We were instructed to call back when we entered the lake for instructions and slip assignment. We confirmed that the slip needed to accommodate a 6-foot draft.

Entering Clear Lake is a bit of a surreal experience. We had just exited an extremely busy ship channel, dodged huge oil platforms as well as derelict platforms and all manner of fishing vessels. As we approached and entered the Clear Lake channel we were greeted by a variety of touristy buildings, ferris wheels, tower rides and what can only be described as a miniature amusement park. At first we were a bit surprised, but then we looked at each other and could only say, “Cool.”

A call to the marina again got us precise directions since there are several channels to choose from once inside the lake. We stayed on the phone with them until we felt sure we understood exactly where our slip was. With dock lines and fenders ready, we made the turn into the slip and abruptly ran aground halfway in. Fortunately, we were close enough to the finger pier to get off and walk up to the office and correct the problem.

“Oh yes,” we were told, “that portion of the marina is pretty shallow at low tide.” While we had been telling them for some time we needed at least 6 feet, maybe we were not specific enough to state that we wanted that at all stages of the tides.

The marina personnel gave us another slip and assured us that it was in a deeper part of the basin, on a T-dock. The bottom of the lake is a soft mud and backing out of the spot we were in was not too difficult.

Once settled in on the T-dock, we sat still and took in these new surroundings. Even with the less-than-dignified arrival, it was a nice place, albeit a bit larger than we were used to. The marina has about 1,200 slips with club houses, swimming pools and well-cared-for grounds. We knew without any more research that we would stay here for the duration.

Our pleasant surroundings and the warm greetings we received did relieve some of the sadness we felt that we must now close this chapter, but we would almost immediately begin planning the next.

We are not, by any stretch of the imagination, wealthy people. Nor do we have any retirement money to tap and fund our cruising. We found many years ago — when first planning our change in lifestyle — that many of our friends who worked hard and planned hard just for this opportunity fell to illness or became embroiled in family problems, financial or personal disasters that ended their cruising plans before they ever began.

We made the decision to not let that happen to us. We sold our business, home, cars and everything that would not fit on the boat and hit the trail, as our Texas friends say.

Paying off our mortgages and the failure of the individual who bought our business, who has yet to pay us, didn’t allow for a nest egg that could be invested to maintain our way of life.

So our plan is to have no plan. We decide on the length of cruise we want to do, how much we need in the bank to carry us through and how much we need at the end to get us settled back in. Many have asked us if we are not afraid going to a new place with no income, no job prospects and no support groups. Our answer is always a resounding, “No.”

With our backgrounds [Chuck a marine mechanic, Susan a social worker] we never have a problem finding work. This stop found work for one of us three days after our arrival and the other within weeks, which is typical.

We will stay for as long as it takes to build the kitty for the next cruise and we will be off again. Where and when is yet to be determined, but it is comforting to just know there will be a where and when.

For those readers who have followed us through these articles in Soundings we hope you have lived vicariously through us if you are unable to put out to sea yourselves. We hope we have inspired some to untie the dock lines and go.

Fair winds to you all and we hope you will follow us on the next journey.