We had a fun filled week at Cooley’s Landing. We made new sailor friends, tried out all the local sailor bars, and got to spend time with our Florida family. We also completed some minor projects (like replacing a hose for the head, oh joy!). On the down side we were boarded by an infamous pirate, no joke. We threatened trial and hanging, but he insisted he was just inspecting our vessel for stowaways prior to departure.
All joking aside we enjoyed our time at Cooleys Landing immensely and had made some good friends while there, but Ft. Lauderdale was a pit stop for us, not a destination.
While at Cooleys we would wake up at 630 am every day to listen to Chris Parker’s weather forecast. Chris broadcasts forecasts for the Bahamas and Caribbean via SSB (marine shortwave radio). These forecasts are extremely detailed and tailored towards boaters. He charges a fee if you would like to ask questions but you can otherwise listen for free. We listened each morning only to be disappointed with large seas and high winds forecasts. Finally on March 12 Chris mentioned things might be calming down later in the week. I scoured my usual sources for weather (Windy and NOAA) and it looked like there would indeed be a possible break in the weather. Normally this would have been enough but several other factors came into play, which made us take our weather forecasting up a notch.
- The Gulf stream is a strong north flowing current that we would have to spend a significant amount of time in. If weather conditions aren’t right, it can be down right horrible in any size boat.
- My dad David would be coming down to give us a hand with the crossing and spend a couple weeks exploring. He was buying a last minute plane ticket so any delay in our departure would mean less time in the Bahamas for him.
- It was our first “ocean” crossing and we wanted a smooth ride (can you blame us after the fun we had in the chesapeake?)
With all this in mind, I sent off a quick email to the folks at Weather Routing Inc (WRI) asking for a custom forecast for the weekend, using a coupon we had received at the Annapolis boat show. WRI has a team a meteorologists forecasting marine weather around the globe 24/7/365 for everything from small boats like us to giant oil tankers. Within hours they provided us with a very detailed report, which you can download here. They also offer phone consultations, which we will probably try out when we return to Florida. I can’t recommend WRI enough if you are taking a long passage and need really accurate weather information. With the forecast being excellent I made a quick call to my dad and told him to buy his ticket since we would be leaving Friday morning at about 1:00 am.
After a not-so-quick trip to Walmart and the largest grocery bill either of us had ever had, we were set to go – except we could not depart directly from Cooley’s Landing due to the extreme currents that had already rattled us getting in. So Wednesday afternoon we ran the New River gauntlet but this time we were a bit wiser than last time. We waited until the current was completely slack and then went for it. We cleared the first bridge with ease but just as we did the blasted railroad bridge closed on us. We were trapped again between two bridges.
We were treading water when a mega yacht crackled on the radio that they were coming through the first bridge. “Lindsey, starboard tie,” I hollered.
“What?” she said, “We’re doing great right here.”
“Time to play it safe. There is a beautiful public dock we can tie off to and avoid playing bumper boats again.” So we tied off and waited. By the time the damn railroad bridge opened, we were in the company of 2 very large mega yachts. Since we were docked we passed through the bridge last. The yacht in front of us told the next bridge operator that we would like to pass as well, and the bridgetender replied he would “clear traffic and get it open in a moment.” This is the same 300 yard section we had trouble in last time. Not trusting that “in a moment” meant any short length of time, I yelled, “Port Tie, Port Tie,” and we tied up to a random restaurant’s dock, nervous to be here again but safe and undamaged.
We waited and waited for the bridge opening, and as we did, a very large sportfisher (~70-80) also pulled in behind us to wait. “What the hell is wrong with these bridge operators? We have 4 boats crammed in with probably less than a 100 feet between us. Are they trying to cause an accident?” I said to Lindsey. Luckily all 3 of the other boats were equipped with bow/ stern thrusters so they managed to hold position without hitting anything. It was without a doubt some of the best maneuvering I have ever seen any boat do let alone 3 at once. After another 20 minutes of sitting tight, the bridge opened, we pushed off the dock and we were free at last, sort of.
Our anchorage options were pretty bad in Ft. Lauderdale, with only 2 options. We choose Lake Sylvia which is less than a mile from New River. Boats were crammed in like sardines, and it was the tightest we have ever anchored. We set our anchor alarm for a distance so short that inevitably even a small windshift would set off the alarm, making for a long night. But the boat was safe and we were ready to cross, except we still were missing a crew member.
Due to work commitments, my dad David left TN Thursday afternoon after we were already anchored out. Not wanting to setup our dinghy only to have to take it apart again, we asked our friend Ryan at Cooley’s if he would be willing to shuttle David out to us in his rather spiffy 20hp dinghy. Ryan quickly agreed, and on arrival David found him at the marina ready to go.
They bailed the recent rainwater out and started up the dinghy, going about 100 ft before it died. Again and again, they kept starting it only to go a few hundred feet before it died. After about an hour I texted David, “Everything ok?” to which he replied,”Motor trouble”. Uh oh, I thought, swift current and no motor would make for a bad ride. Luckily they troubleshot that the fuel pickup was not doing its job so my dad had to tip the half empty tank at an angle for the duration of his trip. After a 5:30 am start to his day in TN, our third and final crew member was onboard at 8:00 pm, just 3.5 hours before out departure time. We had a beer, swapped some stories, and tried to get about an hour nap.
At 11:30 pm I turned on the radio and woke everybody up to The Struts “Could Have Been Me”, followed by some CCR, Zac Brown Band, and Chris Janson. We rushed to complete our final preparations, determined to get the anchor up before midnight, while it was still Thursday – it’s considered bad luck to leave for a passage on a Friday.
Everybody was in good spirits and ready for a 12 hour ~70NM ride to West End, The Bahamas. The anchor came up without issue, the motor started right up as usual, and we glided out of the overcrowded anchorage with a smart look on our face. “This is going to be a piece of cake” we thought.
We had one drawbridge to clear, but with a closed vertical clearance of 55 ft, we wouldn’t need it to open. To be on the safe side, Lindsey called the bridge well in advance asking to confirm the height. The bridge replied, “Due to insurance reasons, I cannot tell you. You’ll have to read the gauge on right side of the span.” Laughing, Lindsey pulled out the binoculars and waited until we were close enough to read the gauge – 56 ft – full steam ahead!
Thirty minutes after departing the anchorage, we were exiting Port Everglade. The sky ahead was dark and full of stars while the city lit up the horizon behind us. There was very little boat traffic, and we were relieved that there were no large commercial vessels nearby. Gentle 3 ft rollers started to rock the boat back and forth, and our speed under motor dropped into the 3-4 knot range. With only 18 hp but 28,000 lbs, even relatively calm seas can slow our boat down when motoring.
A couple miles offshore as the lights of Ft. Lauderdale were fading, I sent Lindsey below to take the first break. Shortly thereafter I noticed the engine temp was climbing higher than I like, and we were making black smoke. Not good, but its hard to get the prop pitch right at night when everything is dark. I adjusted it as best I could and gave everyone strict orders to check the temp at least every 15 minutes.
Now this would have been the time to put up our sails and make 6-7 knots, but we had one little problem. We were so focused on a smooth crossing that we picked a day with smooth seas but no wind. I mean nothing. There was so little wind it would have been completely hopeless trying to fill a sail with it. Before I went down at the end of my first shift I looked at the ETA on the GPS. It said 7 PM arrival. Not possible, I thought. At daybreak the winds will set in, we will kick some ass and be having conch fritters by noon. Not so, my friends, not so. As a side note, the stars were incredible as the lights of Florida faded and the flying fish were out in force. It was spectacularly beautiful calm night. Sometime during the early morning hours we entered the gulf stream. The motor was running as hot as I would tolerate, but at least it was holding steady.
Lindsey’s notes: After a couple hours of sleep, I donned my harness, clipped myself into the cockpit, and took the helm so Dave could rest below and Paul could have a break from steering. The watch schedule we had decided on was 2 people on watch at all times, rotating a person out to rest every 2 hours (which means your watch shift was 4 hours). Even though the swell was small, the boat was rocking pretty good and it’s hard to quell the queasiness in the dark without a horizon to look at it. My watch consisted of steering, hopping up every few minutes to do a 360 check for other boats, and counting down the time until there would be light. My biggest concern for this trip was ships, but luckily we saw very few, and the ones we did see were far off and heading away from us. We were running a bit north of our rhumb line, but Paul warned me not to steer too far east while we were still in the Gulf Stream as our speed would drop below 2 knots if I did, and at this point we were still hoping to make it the The Bahamas before sunset!
Finally, when I started my second shift, daylight had arrived. Yet there was still no wind. The windex (wind direction indicator) spun slowly in circles, aimless. Lindsey kept an eye on the wind generator, hoping for any sign that we might get to sail, but the generator’s blades remained still for the rest of the trip.
Glancing off the bow I noticed scattered but frequent clumps of sargasso seaweed. I hoped, in vain, that a Tuna or Mahi would be hanging around one of the larger clumps. I dragged a lure behind the boat on a handline and even detoured towards the weeds a couple times hoping for a bite.
To my surprise I also noticed many Portuguese man-o-war, a pretty jellyfish-like creature that looks like a floating blue balloon and packs one hell of a sting. No swimming in the gulf for us today, I thought. As the day drew on we all took naps and had a few snacks. Without sails up, the boat was a bit rolly and nobody had much appetite for more than ginger ale and crackers. It was beautiful out there though and a nice break from the hustle and bustle of South Florida. The feeling of adventure was setting in for all of us. Hour after hour went by, and there was nothing but deep blue water to keep us company.
Finally late in the afternoon we spotted the water tower at Old Bahama Bay Resort. Since the weather was forecast to be calm for the next few days, we anchored outside the marina in a rather exposed anchorage, just as the sun was setting. 19 hours had passed since we raised our anchor in Florida but it was so worth it – we made it to the Bahamas!
The next day, despite the ridiculously strong current in the anchorage, I dove in with a snorkel to see if a fouled prop had caused the engine to run hot. It was clean as a whistle. Going to the next option, I checked the strainer sure enough it was partially clogged. Note to self: check the strainer, check the strainer, check the strainer….
