Return from Bimini

As predicted, the northeasterly wind continued to clock around and by Wednesday, April 20, was blowing out of the southeast again. Nan, Brian, and I readied Whispering Jesse for a departure early on the following morning and drafted our marina mates for assistance. With the boat positioned as it was and the wind blowing at least 15 knots, we did not have enough engine power to safely make the hard turn to port against the wind needed to enter the channel, so Brian rigged up a spider web of dock lines and instructed our marina mates in how we would use them to manually pivot the boat around the corner of the pier and point the bow into the wind for a safe departure.

We all met in the pink light of dawn at 6:30 the next morning, coffee cups in hand, to see if Brian's plan would work. After a single false start and a minor correction, we were off, with much waving and yelling of thanks. We hope to meet up with those kind sailors again in future travels.

The route out of the channel was considerably easier in daylight, and we adjusted our course to match the one taken by our snorkel trip captain, which put us on the wrong side of one of the markers but also prevented any unwelcome contact with shoals. We motored southwest into deeper water for several hundred yards before rounding into the wind and putting up the mainsail. When we turned back around and put out the jib, Whispering Jesse took off on a fast broad reach. Within moments, we were doing better than 7 knots and heeling just a little too dramatically. We adjusted the traveler to leeward and eased the main, making for a less death-defying ride. We didn't need to make any further adjustments until we entered the Gulfstream, where the dramatic wave action added to the roller-coaster effect and caused us to ease the main a little more. But we were flying! Occasional gusts pushed us above 8 knots, and it felt that we would be back in Miami in no time.

The slight jog to the north in our otherwise due west track was caused by a course correction needed to avoid being T-boned by a large freighter. Boats under sail have the right of way, but don't try to explain that to a freighter captain who believes that might makes right. It's easier to just assume that nobody on the freighter is paying any attention and take whatever evasive action is necessary.

It took only 10 hours to return from Bimini, compared to 18 hours to sail there, and the vastly different tracks tell the story. Speed is the key. Without at least 5 to 6 knots of boat speed, the Gulfstream's 3.5 knots take control and push the boat northward. It may be possible to crab across in a slow easterly direction, but is that any faster than simply using the available wind to get past the Gulfstream and then adjusting southward? Maybe. The best advice is to wait for a southwesterly wind for the passage over to Bimini and a southeasterly wind for the passage back. In other words, trying to sail on a schedule is almost never going to be the safest or most comfortable way to go.

Weather Delay

We packed in as much activity as possible during our short time on Bimini. The day after our arrival, we went on a snorkeling trip to the S.S. Sapona shipwreck, a ferro-cement cargo ship that sank in an upright position south of Bimini during a hurricane in 1926. The sea life that call the wreck their home were impressive, as was the wreck itself, especially the enormous propeller, still attached to the partially submerged, broken-off stern.

As we had done with the snorkeling trip, we coordinated a golf cart rental through the Bimini Big Game Club Resort and Marina, conveniently located just down the road from Blue Water Marina. There was a limit to how much we could see by foot and we wanted to explore farther to the north. Specifically, we wanted to see Resorts World Bimini, the resort and casino development near the north end of North Bimini. Nan and I used to pass their billboards in Miami and had wanted to take the inexpensive, high-speed cruise ship over for a quick weekend, but now we had arrived by other means. The enormous development was mostly deserted, except for small pockets of people at the pools and casino. We learned that the cruise ship was not currently running, which limited access to only those visitors willing to arrive by airplane. At the north end of the development, where their best beach is located, we expected to continue on a road around the northernmost point of the island to the pristine beaches on the east side of the island, but the way was blocked by new construction projects and employee housing--what a shame!

There is a ferry that runs frequently between North and South Bimini, and we completed our tour of the islands one afternoon by taking it across to South Bimini. The ferry drops passengers off at a parking lot, where there is a shuttle bus that goes to the airport and the island's two resorts. We got off at Bimini Sands Resort & Marina to check on the accommodations. We found the marina to be hot, lacking in character, and full of biting sand gnats, so we retreated to the air-conditioned upstairs bar for ice-cold Kalik beers. Some sailors swear by the place, but we were happy we had chosen to stay at Blue Water Marina.

Our original plans called for us to leave Bimini early on Monday, April 18, but the southeast wind we bucked on the way over had shifted around to the north, against the current, creating large waves and making a return trip inadvisable until conditions changed. This was bad news for Mike, who needed to fly out of Miami on Tuesday. He set about coordinating a connecting flight from the Bimini airport and departed early that day, missing the possibility of some actual sailing on the return trip. Brian, Nan and I focused on the weather reports and kept our fingers crossed for a Thursday or Friday departure.

Sailing Trip to Bimini

Nan and I have been wanting to expand our sailing experiences beyond Biscayne Bay, and a Gulfstream crossing to Bimini seemed a logical choice. We enlisted our friend Mike Young from Colorado, who has been on every major Whispering Jesse voyage, and set a departure date for Thursday, April 14. As we prepared at the Coconut Grove Sailing Club over the last few days, Nan mentioned our plans to Brian McGrath, one of the first members we met when we joined over two years ago. He expressed an interest and soon we were a crew of four.

The weather should cooperate well for us, with predicted winds out of the southeast at 5-10 knots. This direction and speed combination should help to keep the wave heights at a tolerable level. We plan to leave at 5:00 AM and clear Cape Florida, at the south end of Key Biscayne, about an hour later. From there, it's into the Gulfstream's 3-4 knots of northbound current, where we're expecting a significant northward push. We're hoping to make it across in 10-12 hours. Wish us luck!

Miami in January

As I mentioned in the recent "Wild Iris" post, Paul Caouette and his wife Honey have invited Nan and me to join them when they go to Miami to work on their boat next month. I have decided to take them up on their inviation, but Nan is going to go home to Wisconsin instead.

During a phone conversation a few weeks ago, Paul and I talked about Wild Iris, his 1977 Valiant 40, and the work that needs to be done to prepare her for their anticipated trans-Atlantic passage in May. The older Valiants do not have self-tailing winches as standard equipment, so Paul would like to replace them some day, but in the meantime, one of them needs to be rebuilt. In an email exchange, Paul mentioned that he also needs to reinstall his anchor roller after a recent anchoring mishap in the Bahamas.

These are just two items on an endless list of tasks that need to be done between now and May. I think it's probably impossible to be overly prepared for a trip across the Atlantic. With only two landfalls, in Bermuda and the Azores, between Miami and Spain, there is little room for error, whether in judgment or in equipment failure. So I don't envy Paul and Honey their preparations, but I am more than happy to help them in any way I can in exchange for the opportunity to spend some time on a Valiant 40, the boat of my dreams. And if we can get the sails back from repairs, maybe we'll even be able to take Wild Iris out for a sail.

"Wild Iris"

Last weekend, when Nan and I were in Denver for the Coldplay concert, we met Paul and Honey Caouette on Saturday morning for breakfast. Paul had contacted me by email a couple of months before based on a posting he read on a Valiant owners group website about my experience with "Sea Hawk," the Valiant 40 I looked at in Fort Lauderdale (Boat Quest, Part 7 and Boat Quest, Part 9). In his message, Paul said that they lived in Denver but owned a Valiant 40 in Miami, and he was wondering if I would be interested in helping them sail the boat to Spain next May.

The four of us hit it off well, chatting about everything from John Irving's books to sailing, of course, to Paul's acting in community theatre, all in the course of a breakfast at Dixon's in LoDo that stretched to almost three hours. Paul told the story of how he had come to own a well-equipped 1977 Valiant 40, the result of his winning an IRS auction. That was almost five years ago. Since then, he and Honey have sailed "Wild Iris" (formerly "Chanticleer") up and down the Florida coast and across to the Bahamas for an extended cruise. They travel to Florida every couple of months to check on the boat and take her out for a sail. She is currently swinging on a mooring in Key Biscayne.

Now Paul and Honey are ready to sail across the Atlantic, with the idea of touring the coast of Spain and exploring the Mediterranean. They are hoping to set sail in May: "Anchors aweigh on the seventh of May," as Paul puts it. The idea is for their departure to correspond with Paul's official retirement, but given current economic conditions, he's keeping his options open. Regardless, the plan is in the works; they just need to sign on additional crew to make it a safe and pleasant voyage.

If it were up to me, I'd say sure, let's join them on their trans-Atlantic passage, but Nan is less confident. It's at least a three-week commitment depending on the weather conditions, and they will be unlike anything we have ever experienced. So I don't blame her. Near the end of breakfast, Paul and Honey invited us to join them when they go to check on the boat in mid-January, and that might be a good time to see if we're really up to the challenge of making the passage with them. Stay tuned.

Boat Quest, Part 12

In Boat Quest, Part 2, I mentioned a catalog of boat plans that Phil LeBoutillier had shown me back in 1996. I thought it was Fifty Wooden Boats, published by WoodenBoat, but I was wrong. I found my copy of the catalog recently while going through a box of stuff in the garage. It was the Book of Boat Designs by Glen-L Marine Designs, and its front cover appears in the image above. (Click the images for full-size views.)

I flipped through the catalog and quickly found the plans that Phil had ordered for building a plywood dinghy, "Dinky," for his trawler in the Bahamas. I flipped further and found my dream plans, for the "Amigo," a fiberglass or strip-planked wooden 28-foot sloop (22 feet without the bowsprit) that I thought I could build in a large garage.

Looking back on my thinking of that time, I have to ask, what was I thinking? Build a large, heavy sailboat in seriously landlocked Colorado? Even if I could complete the project, how would I get the thing to water? The plans call the Amigo "a trailerable offshore cruiser," which is an oxymoron if I ever heard one. The listed displacement is over 5000 pounds! Forgetting the trailering idea, it would probably cost more to transport the boat than it would to buy a modest fiberglass fixer-upper in a coastal area.

That boat-building dream was even more fanciful than the circum-navigation one. No wonder it soon gave way to the obsession with the MacGregor 26 and the other boats that followed. But, you know, if I ever do get a boat, it's going to need a dinghy and nothing says that that dinghy needs to be an inflatable. Maybe I should put the catalog away in a safe place, just in case.

Sharing the Dream

On Thursday morning, I received an email message from reader Ted Johnson in response to my Boat Quest series. It was a great story by a fellow dreamer and it contained some excellent advice, so I thought I would share it with other readers, along with my response:

Good luck in your quest!

Just stumbled on your blog. Enjoyed reading it. I have a couple out there--not nearly as well-developed.

http://pontianum.blogspot.com/

http://basicmazecraft.blogspot.com/

I've returned last fall from living on a sailboat in Seattle for 2 years. It was the realization of a dream. The dream's still there but is on hold.

QWEST allowed me to transfer out there so i sold everything in Denver & arrived in Seattle with a small trailer filled with my "necessities". I have sailed small boats on inland waters all my life but was new to the ocean & living aboard.

i arrived in june & didn't want to lose the precious summer months searching for the perfect boat--a big project as you know. So i bought the third boat I looked at--a Cal 34. It turned out great--was in better than new condition--but it was too small & not what I wanted for a life of cruising. So for $500 I enlisted Bob Perry, the designer of the Valiant 40, to help me look for the next boat. I ended up with one of his designs--the Islander freeport 36. I bought it for the headroom, light from large portlights, large head & pullman berth. Unfortunately, the deferred maintenance was overwhelming, the surveyor missed a lot of faults, and the galley was at best awkward, and i learned that even with a full cockpit cover i was rarely warm enough out on the Sound. (Visibility was so poor from the cockpit all zipped up that it didn't really give me the protection I wanted to sail year-round.).

After arriving back in Denver to stay the winter, I got a message that the dock I was on was being leased out & i was losing my slip. i listed the boat with a broker & to my surprise she sold it right way.

I'm headed for MN in July to care for my parents for the summer, then hope to resume the cruising/sailing/liveaboard life. I'll be back where you are, trying to buy a boat long distance. it's very frustrating! And I want this to be a boat I can keep for a while!

i'd like to retire, but will be on a shoestring. (If I wait, i might never get back on a boat!)

I'm in love with (that's the worst of it --the emotional side) a boat in CA--a Challenger 42. It's well-outfitted & looks like the layout I want--but I face the same thing you do--a lot of expense to go look at it, knowing that pictures lie & with one glance I could discover it's not for me. It's a lot like computer dating!

I would encourage you to charter & sail with others a lot before you buy if at all possible. I belonged to a club in Seattle that met Monday nights. Skippers would line up & invite members to go on free trips every weekend. Club cost $15/meeting or $140 for the year. It was a great way to get rides on a variety of boats.

Having said that, I bought the Cal 34 based on reputation without ever having sailed one & it was a good boat for me. i didn't spend a lot on her & sold her for more than I paid. if it weren't for sales tax, I probably broke even. The Valiant 40 has the same kind of reputation. I think the owner's group is a better bet for finding a good boat than Yachtworld. But i scan Yachtworld every day. Problem is, most of the boats that are on Yachtworld forever are there for a reason. They're in bad shape or the owner is unrealistic about value.

After my experience with the Freeport, I'd recommend waiting for a well-maintained boat. Unless you can do all the work yourself, bringing a boat back from neglect can easily cost more than the initial purchase price. It's hard to find people that do good work. And a boat that needs work is a pain. You can't trust her to really go anywhere. You never recapture that money when you resell her. The guy on the east coast is not going to sell her for any more by installing radar & whatever else he's doing. I think letting the boat go on the east coast was a good choice.

Where do you plan to start from--whereever you find a boat?

Thought it might be interesting to stay in touch.

Ted

RE: Good luck in your quest!

Ted,

Thank you for contacting me. I enjoyed your message and all its good advice.

It sounds like we are sharing the same dream but that you have at least experienced some of it firsthand already. I, too, grew up sailing on inland lakes, mostly in Wisconsin, but dreamed of sailing the oceans and circumnavigating. I have taken the ASA classes, chartered in the BVI and gone on two of John Kretschmer’s trips (http://www.yayablues.com/ and Latitudes & Attitudes magazine), but I have never owned a boat other than the 1969 AMF Alcort Minifish that’s out in my garage.

After the disappointment with “Little Walk,” the boat I looked at in Virginia, I’m thinking I may have to do what you did and enlist the assistance of an expert to help me locate the right boat, maybe Stan Dabney (http://www.offshoreyachts.com/), the reputed Valiant 40 authority next to Bob Perry, the boat’s designer. I emailed Stan once and he was very helpful, so it might be worth a try. The one thing that looking at “Little Walk” did do was to confirm that the Valiant 40 is the right boat for what we have in mind, so I’m pretty set on it if I can find a well-maintained one at a decent price.

With the crummy economy and our landbound life in Colorado, my wife Nan and I (and our new dog Scout) may be a few years out yet, but it never hurts to keep looking. When we do finally find the right boat, the big trip will probably start from where the boat is located, at least to a certain extent. Having sailed in the Caribbean more than anywhere else, that would be my preferred starting spot. If I locate a boat on the west coast, like the two Valiants that are currently listed on YachtWorld.com in the Seattle area, I think I would sail south and then east through the Panama Canal, and then up around Florida and up the east coast at least as far as Savannah, where my parents have a vacation home on Skidaway Island, before thinking about backtracking by way of the Bahamas, the Caribbean Islands and the northern coast of South America to return to the Panama Canal.

I am a big fan of Robinson Crusoe and Mutiny on the Bounty, so it has been my dream to sail across the Pacific by starting at Valparaiso, Chile and making landfall at Alexander Selkirk Island (in the Juan Fernandez archipelago) and Pitcairn Island on the way to French Polynesia. From there, I have some route ideas that involve New Zealand, Australia, Madagascar, Africa and the Mediterranean, but they’re too much to list here. The biggest idea would be to undertake a circumnavigation in a discontinuous way, leaving the boat at desirable spots along the way during bad-weather seasons and flying home to take care of real-life responsibilities before returning to pick up where we left off. I met Jim Whittaker, the first American to summit Mt. Everest, about eight years ago, and this was how he and his family were working their way around the world. It might take quite a bit longer to do it this way, but I look at the dream as being an “until I die” kind of thing anyway, so there’s no need to rush through it.

Let’s stay in touch and see how the dream works out for the both of us.

Best wishes,

John

Boat Quest, Part 9

The last weekend in November, I was searching for Valiant 40 sailboats online and looking beyond the OffshoreYachts.com and YachtWorld. com listings I routinely checked, when there she was: Sea Hawk! The very same boat I had motored past in Fort Lauderdale with John Kretschmer in January of 2007 (see Boat Quest, Part 7). The listing was brief, just a single photo (the one above), a list of features and a price of $49,000, but it included the phone number I had miscopied ten months before.

I vacillated a few days and then called the number. No answer. I left a message saying I knew the boat and I knew John Kretschmer and I was interested in finding out more. I waited a few days but never got a call back. I called again and got in touch with Harvey, the owner. He apologized for not calling back; he had just returned from the Bahamas. We talked for twenty minutes about how we each knew John, and about Sea Hawk and what was going on with her. Harvey listed off the included sail inventory and custom equipment, and said he was in the process of replacing the existing Westerbeke diesel engine with a rebuilt one. It sounded like a big project. I asked why the price was so low. He said that Sea Hawk was one of the Valiant 40 "blister boats" but that unlike most of the others with the blistered fiberglass on their hulls and topsides, hers had never been repaired. I knew the problem was purely cosmetic so I wasn't put off by it. The idea of buying a Valiant 40 for only $49,000 was too exciting.

Harvey asked when I could fly down to take a look. I hadn't thought that far ahead yet and said so. He suggested I contact John and have him take a look on my behalf. I said I would and asked if there were any other photos I could look at in the meantime. He said he would email me some. We agreed to stay in touch and ended the call.

I emailed John to tell him I had found Sea Hawk online and ask if he would be willing to drop by to take a look at her. He replied that he would. John is the author of Used Boat Notebook: From the pages of Sailing Magazine, reviews of 40 used boats plus a detailed look at 10 great used boats to sail around the world, so if there was anybody whose opinion I could trust, it was his. He called me after he had had a chance to talk with Harvey and look at Sea Hawk in person. He said that Harvey was still in the process of replacing the engine but that even with the mess involved in that project, she still looked "really rough." This surprised me. I said that I had closely studied the 49 photos Harvey had emailed me and that she didn't look too bad, maybe just the victim of deferred maintenance that could be rectified with solvent, varnish and plenty of elbow grease. He said if I was really interested I should fly down and take a look myself.

So I emailed Harvey and asked when he would be available during the upcoming weeks, by this time late January to early February. He didn't respond. I figured he was in the Bahamas again. About this time, in mid-January, we made the trip to the Animal Cancer Center in Fort Collins to get the diagnosis on our dog Charlie's cancer. When we found out how serious it was, Nan and I agreed to postpone any trips to Florida for now. The boat could wait. It was more important to be home taking care of Charlie.

Harvey finally emailed me back a couple of weeks ago. He had spent all of February in the Bahamas, but he was back and available if I wanted to fly down and see the boat. This time it was me who didn't respond. I just checked the listing site, SailboatTraderOnline.com, and Sea Hawk is still available for sale.

Boat Quest, Part 7

After researching the Valiant 40 cutter-rigged sailboat and deciding that it was the best boat for what I had in mind, in terms of size, design, sail layout, equipment and price, I faithfully scanned the OffshoreYachts.com listings looking for an older one with a five-figure asking price. Due to the fiberglass blistering problem with some of the mid- to late-1970s Valiants, there were bound to be some bargains out there.

We took a few vacations during this time, around 2001 to 2007, to Florida, Mexico and the British Virgin Islands. Whenever we were near the coast or on an island, I would be on the look-out for Valiant 40s, but I never spotted one. This isn't too surprising since only 200 or so were ever manufactured.

It wasn't until I went on my Fort Lauderdale to Bahamas sailing trip with John Kretschmer that I was finally able to see a Valiant 40 sailboat in person. As the crew was getting acquainted on the first day, John asked each of us what kind of boat we owned. When he came to me, I explained that I had grown up sailing in Wisconsin and that I owned a vintage 1969 AMF Alcort Minifish but that I was hoping one day to buy a good, used Valiant 40. "What an interesting coincidence," he remarked. He knew of one for sale that was parked along New River in Fort Lauderdale, and he knew who the owner was. He passed it every time he moved his boat from its usual mooring spot farther up the river. We agreed to take a look at the end of the trip.

Five days later, after returning from our successful passage to the Bahamas, we tied up in front of the Downtowner Saloon on New River. The rest of the crew departed, but I stayed on John's boat Quetzal overnight to keep an eye on her. The next morning, John returned and the two of us piloted Quetzal up the river toward her mooring. At the wide spot where the river branches into its north and south forks, John pointed off to port and there she was, the first Valiant 40 I had ever seen. We motored over closer to get a better look. She looked worn and weathered, like she had been sailed hard for many years and then parked for many months. "Sea Hawk" was painted on her stern, and there was a badly faded for-sale sign taped to her wheel. John looped around a second time so I could try to write down the phone number from the sign. As we pulled away, I snapped the picture above. Sea Hawk is the boat with the rounded stern and blue trim between the two other boats in the center of the picture, which may be viewed in a larger size by clicking on it.

I wish I had also taken a picture of the for-sale sign because I didn't get the phone number written down correctly. When I got home, I tried calling it and found that it was not in service. I emailed John, and he said he would try to stop by and get the correct number for me, maybe call the owner himself to say hi and get reacquainted. Time went by, and John and I exchanged periodic email messages, but I never did get that number. After several months, I figured the boat had probably been sold to someone else and that I should just let it go.

Christmas Letter 2007

Dear Family and Friends,

Time passes so quickly these days, our Christmas letters are starting to read like chapters in a serialized novel. By the time the last one has been mailed, it’s time to start thinking about the next. What to do for a cliffhanger though?

This year was a big one for us. We made up for all the travel and experiences we didn’t get to do last year while we were going through our home ownership transition. Much of that travel was the back-and-forth shuffle between our jobs at Aspen Valley Hospital and our home in Grand Junction. We shared a house down the road from Aspen in Basalt during the work week and drove home every weekend, partly to water the plants and check the mail, partly because it was home and it felt right to be there. But as of November 1st, when Nan ended her nineteen-year career at AVH, we are now full-time Grand Junctionites. Nan just started a new job here as Surgery Coordinator for Community Hospital, and I am telecommuting now to my job as the Database/Internet Administrator for AVH. It’s working out well so far, and our dog Charlie seems less confused.

The fun travel started last January. I was looking to expand my sailing horizons so I joined sailor/writer John Kretschmer and a group sailing John’s 47-foot cutter from Fort Lauderdale to the Bahamas and back. It was rough crossing the Gulf Stream overnight while beating into the wind, but we enjoyed the Settlement on Grand Bahama and the quick surf back. It was smooth enough on the return to practice using sextants to determine our latitude, confirming our position with the ship’s GPS.

To build her sailing confidence in anticipation of our upcoming May sailing trip to the British Virgin Islands, Nan took the American Sailing Association basic keelboat class in St. Petersburg, Florida in April. She surprised herself by passing both the written and practical exams. Our Christmas picture this year shows Nan happily putting her new knowledge to work at the helm of the boat we chartered in the BVI.

The May sailing trip was a dream, especially compared to our 2004 misadventure. Chartering a larger, safer boat and having Nan’s sister Monica and her friend Vicky along made all the difference. It was a first-time experience for both of them, but after they got over the feeling that the boat was going to tip over when it heeled, they pitched in on all the sailing duties. Good weather, smooth seas, excellent snorkeling and plenty of conch fritters kept everybody happy.

In August we visited family, Nan hers and me mine. Nan went home to Manitowoc to celebrate two milestone birthdays, sister Sue’s 60th and sister Amy’s 50th. Sister Sarah, the ninth and final Mullins daughter, and her husband Ian hosted the festivities at their home in Green Bay, complete with a This Is Your Life-style trivia contest.

I drove to Washington State with Charlie for a week-long Lichty family reunion celebration of Mom and Dad’s 50th wedding anniversary at sister Jane and her husband Josh’s homes on Whidbey Island and in Seattle. We toured the island, we hiked the beaches, and Charlie experienced sea water for the first time, prompting him to puke in the back of Jane’s van. Back in Seattle, we visited the art museum and aquarium, and celebrated Jane and Josh’s twins Max and Ben’s 10th birthdays.

In September we traveled to Italy for the first time. We wandered around Florence for a few days, reliving the Renaissance through the architecture of the Duomo and the artwork at the Ufizzi gallery, all the while partaking of the great food and wine. Then we took the train to the coast to meet up with The Wayfarers for a week-long package walking tour of the Cinque Terre and Italian Riviera with a terrific group of fellow Americans. The coastal views of the Mediterranean and the compact, pastel-colored towns were spectacular. At a walking pace, putting in about ten miles a day, we had plenty of time to appreciate them. If you’d like to see for yourself and you have a high-speed Internet connection, there are slideshows with captions on my blog at http://whisperingjesse.blogspot.com. After the hike ended, we stopped in Pisa to see the Leaning Tower on our way back to Florence, where we spent another day that included a visit to the Academia museum to see Michelangelo’s David.

October saw us witnessing Brett Favre’s bomb to Greg Jennings to beat the Denver Broncos in overtime. It does the heart good to see an athlete past his prime having probably his best season ever. Maybe Brett will have one more chance at a Super Bowl before he retires. Maybe he’ll play another season. Either way, go, Pack, go!

After that whirlwind of travel and the job and living adjustments, we’re happy now to be spending time settling into new routines and finally unpacking the last of the boxes from our move more than two years ago. There’s snow on the high desert, making for a rare white Christmas and good skiing at Powderhorn. We’ll be here enjoying both this holiday season. Here’s hoping for plenty of snow and the best this season has to offer for you and yours, now and in the New Year.

Love,

John and Nan and Charlie

Fort Lauderdale to Bahamas Sailing Trip

From January 11 to 15, I joined Capt. John Kretschmer and five other crewmembers on a sailing trip from Fort Lauderdale, Florida to the Bahamas and back. John is a long-time delivery captain, author and sailing mentor. His many books include "Flirting with Mermaids", "The Used Boat Notebook" and most recently, "At the Mercy of the Sea". He has been offering sailing adventures for the last few years using the catchphrase, "Need a little time offshore?" I saw his ad in Attitudes & Latitudes magazine, went to his website (http://www.yayablues.com/) and found just what I needed, a trip that combined all the experience elements I was missing: sailing out of sight of shore, sailing overnight, sailing to a different country and celestial navigation. I discussed it with my wife Nan, who had suggested that I get some real-life sailing experience by signing on as delivery crew or something, and she said I should go for it. So go for it I did, along with Harry and Velinda from Houston, Bill also from Houston, Luisa from San Diego and Phil from Durango, Colorado. Here is a slideshow of our adventure (click a pic for the full-size view):

Day 1: "Quetzal", the 1987 47-foot Kaufman cutter-rigged sailboat that was to be our lodging and transportation for the next 5 days, slipped at the Bahia Mar marina. 6'-7" Harry is seen ducking out of the companionway. Fort Lauderdale's famous beaches are beyond the palm trees in the distance.

With the weather not cooperating for a Bahamas passage due to winds directly out of the east at 25 knots, we agree to sail along the coast for a day or two while we wait for conditions to improve. Here is Capt. John at the helm as we motor along the Intracoastal Waterway on our way to open ocean, while Bill checks the available real estate lining the shore.

Approaching the 17th St. Causeway, with the drawbridge opened obligingly for our passage. Beyond the bridge are Lake Mabel and then the Atlantic Ocean. We spent the afternoon sailing down to the Miami Beach Marina, where we spent the night. The next day, we sailed south in the protected waters of Biscayne Bay ("where the Cuban gentlemen sleep all day," according to Steely Dan's song "Dr. Wu"), ending up at the Dinner Key Marina in Coconut Grove for our second night.

Day 3: Bahamas or bust! We left Coconut Grove before dawn and retraced our route north to Fort Lauderdale in order to get a good southeast tack toward Bimini before heading northeast to Grand Bahama Island.

Heading out into the Gulf Stream, where John promised us the sailing would be "lumpy." Velinda had sailed us under the William M. Powell Bridge and out through the rough waters into the Atlantic. Now she was relaxing but keeping an eye on the water.

Same moment, different angle. Velinda, Harry and Phil hang out in the cockpit on the morning of our Bahamas crossing. Phil appears a little damp from getting "douched" while managing the headsail from the foredeck.

Day 4: We survived the night! Of course we had to make frequent course corrections and dodge all-night cruise ship traffic, but the sun rose just the same. Luisa enjoys her first cup of coffee with an unfortunate flying fish that landed on deck during the night.



Bill and I pulled the first and last watch shifts, so neither of us got much sleep. Here a tired Bill mans the helm--thank goodness for autohelm--while Harry and Phil anticipate breakfast.

Land ho! After almost 30 hours under sail, we spot The Settlement at the west end of Grand Bahama Island.

The marina at Old Bahama Bay Resort & Yacht Harbour (http://www.oldbahamabay.com/). The water was a brilliant turquoise blue. Here is a Compac 25 sloop we shared the dock with during our brief overnight visit. Note the classic Caribbean architecture and pastel colors of the resort.

Group shot on the pier in front of Bonefish Folley's restaurant. We dined on conch fritters and other seafood specialties, washed down with local Kalik beer. Left to right are me, Velinda, Bill, Harry, Luisa, Phil and Capt. John.

Day 5: The voyage home took only eight hours on a smooth broad reach. Capt. John had us rig up a whisker pole on the jib and a preventer on the mainsail for performance and safety. And we finally had a chance to practice with a sextant, correctly calculating our latitude to the degree and minute. Here I am at the helm for the last time.