Desoto Park to Punta Gorda

     After delivering Jennifer to shore in the dingy we set off for Punta Gorda. leaving an early morning dew covered canopy of pines and mangroves on Desoto Point we turned east into a golden rising morning sun. Tampa Bay was lake -like smooth but because it was calling for 2 to 3 foot seas on the outside we decided to take the intracoastal route on the inside.

                                                                             
                                                        Sunshine SkyWay Bridge                                
                                                                              
       As we turned south into the ICW we came astern of a large trawler named "Passing Gas"  They had been cruising this area for a number of years and gave us a tip on getting fuel in  Fort Myers.  Fifty cents a gallon cheaper at the shrimp dock if we pay cash.  Figuring we will need approximately 500 gallons, we could save $250..a no brainer if we can find the shrimp docks!
     Beautiful blue sky with wisps of thin white clouds accentuated the Caribbean blue water as we passed through mangroves and by expansive waterfront homes in this part of the intracoastal.

                                                                                 

      Just as I was thinking what a pleasant trip this was, we encountered our first bridge. A mere 10 minute delay and we carried on.....to the next bridge.....and the next bridge....and... oh well, you get the idea....13 bridges in all!  Finally, the last bridge and we entered Charlotte Harbour Bay.  A reserved slip was waiting for us at Laishley Point in Punta Gorda and not wanting to arrive in the dark to navigate under the bridges into the marina we opened Doc's Holiday up, crossing this rather expansive bay.  16.5 knots easily on plane and it negated the rolling effect of the quartering sea that was causing us to roll somewhat at our normal cruising speed of 9 knots.

                                                                               

                                                                               
                                                                                
     We slowly entered the marina with a 15 knot wind pushing us toward the slip (and the other boats!) Unable to back the boat into the concrete slip because of the wind and my inability to see either of Doc's Holiday's aft corners, I turned the boat around and nosed her into the slip.  The full time slip tenants standing on the bow of their boats seemed much relieved that their boats didn't get scratched but rather than gawking they might have come over to help us get the boat tied down. The wind and fetch was pushing us away from the dock.  Fortunately, Jennifer met us at the dock and was able to cleat off a spring line and help us secure the boat in this very rocky-roly slip. 
     Eighty-two miles and 13 bridge openings....Why? you ask.  Why didn't you slow down, stop and smell the roses.  Why didn't we stop at beautiful Venice? (We could see why it was named Venice as the houses were on caribbean blue canals all along the waterway.) Because, after visiting the Naval Air Museum in Pensacola, I wanted to see the Blue Angels air show and they were performing at the Punta Gorda airport tomorrow.

Venice

                                                                            
                                 
       If I keep this schedule up, I may be the only one travelling on this boat all the way to Maine!
       We were worried when Jennifer informed us that she had difficulty finding a parking spot because there was a wedding in progress at the marina.  It was our good fortune to be there for this wedding. An hour after dark our dog Spencer and I were relaxing on the upper deck enjoying our cocktail, when the sky exploded with a spectacular display of fireworks being ignited not more than 100 yards from our slip.
      We both jumped and Spencer ran over to the hatch and jumped (read fell) down the stairs to the lower helm.  Scared but not injured, he ran to his mother and must have wimpered to her that I was to blame for not holding on to him tighter, because thats what I heard....for the rest of the night! Ugh! Wimpy rat!! Who cared that I had to go change my underwear!

Junior Ranger

     Tom and Mildred returned to Texas today.  I understood their leaving (it became apparent that two cooks in the kitchen long term just wouldn't work.) Still, I was  disappointed that they couldn't continue the adventure with us.  They have been invaluable in getting Doc's Holiday to Florida and we owe them our heartfelt thanks for their help and the fond memories established during the trip. I am sure their cat "Chewy" was glad to get off the boat so his daily sea-sickness and vomiting would abate.  Our dog "Spencer" told me he would not miss being cornered by Chewey and getting daily swipes from Chewey when he stole the cat food.

                                                  Anchorage at Fort Desota State Park                                         

                                                                              
     Cameron, our Grandson and  his mother Jennifer, arrived late in the evening.  He was all smartly dressed in his new Boy Scout shirt and was anxious to spend a night sleeping on the boat. He was surprised that we had furniture on the boat!  I guess living on a boat is "really cool" to a 9 year old boy. (Hmmm its still really cool to "an elderly" as my kids refer to anybody over the age of 60!)
     Jennifer had to go in to Tampa the next morning since our wi fi connection wasn't fast enough and she was used to using two computers at the same time to do her real estate closures (and foreclosures!)

                                                                           

     Cameron was up and ready to explore Fort Desoto Park, but first he wanted to dingy to the beach for a swim.  He couldn't get past his knees in the water! He changed his mind. "Its freezing. I'm not going in!" he said.
      We returned to the boat than headed in the dingy to the park reception centre.  On arrival we spoke with a park ranger who asked Cameron if he wanted to become a Junior Ranger.  A hearty "YES!" was his answer and he was given a book and a number of tasks to complete while we toured the live encounters.  He learned about the conquistador, Desoto and his march through Florida and Texas and how the Spanish killed and tortured the native Indians.  We walked the three mile nature trail through the mangroves, along the coastal shore, and through the pines taking compass readings at specified locations.  Returning to the welcome centre, Cameron was met by a Park Ranger.  She reviewed the book he had completed and asked questions about  his exploration of the park.  Questions like, "What did you see at different points? What did you smell? What did you learn about the conquistadors armour and weapons?  All questions Cameron answered and with a lengthy "repeat after me" induction oath, finally received his goal...a Junior Rangers Badge.

                                                   Junior Ranger Oath                                                                                

     It was a hot trek around the park and Cameron wanted to jump off the boat for a swim.  I put a line out with a floating cushion tied to it to keep the line up on the water so he would have something to hang on to if he got tired.
 He put his foot in. "Its freezing. I'm not going in!" he squelled.  Finally with lots of coaxing and pretending I was going to jump in, he jumped in and was swimming like a fish (with a life jacket on) and giggling he said, "Its not that cold papa come on in." (lying little rug rat!)

                                                                                  
                                                                               

     All in all, we had a great day barbecuing hot dogs and hamburgers and playing with Cameron.  He had to go with his father for the rest of the weekend so we took him to shore and with hugs and kisses said goodbye. 
     This is cruising.

Tarpon Springs and the Sponge Docks

                                                                                                                                                                  
       Reluctantly we left Caladesi Island to anchor out just 2 miles away off the Town of Dunedin.  Our plan was to dingy into the municipal dock and catch the Trolley to spend the day exploring Tarpon Springs.  All ready to leave, we fired up the generator to power up the davit and lift the dingy into the water.  "What the hell is that sound," I asked.
 "There's something wrong with your generator," yelled the Admiral from the state room.
 "Oh! Oh! That doesn't sound good remarked Mildred.
      I immediately shut it off and went down into "the hole" to investigate.  Nothing seemed out of place so we kicked it over again.  No water coming out the exhaust. High pitched squealing as the fan belt turned over and moved all the pulley's....except the impeller pump. 
"Damn, the impeller is shot," Tom said with a smile on his face.  "I'll stay and fix it while y'all go and enjoy yourself in town." 
      At least we were smart enough when putting in our inverter to make sure a plug on the upper deck was hot.  Now we just ran power to the davit, put the dingy in and waved goodbye to Tom as we headed in to catch the trolley.
     First task was to tie the dingy up on an angle so that it wouldn't drift into the multiple oysters growing on the poles.  The sharp oysters would shred the Hypalon rigid inflatable in seconds.  I cursed as the rope in the dingy disintegrated in my hand and broke when I tried to position the dingy.  Back to the boat for a good rope finally securing the boat so that it stayed away from the oysters.
      Next stop was the open air dock bar for some immediate frustration treatment... several ice cold frosty beers. (Colorado bull dogs for Mildred!)  Then, a bus ride for the 13 mile trip to experience the essence of the Tarpon Springs sponge docks.

                                                                          

     Greek sponge fishermen settled here many years ago and eeked out an existence diving for and supplying the world with sea sponges.  Now, not only do they still make money from harvesting the sponges and selling them around the world but they have made an entire tourist industry around this endeavour with live and recorded displays of how sponge fishing has developed over the years.  They have maintained their Greek culture with not only imported souvenirs from Greece but have capitalized on their heritage of Greek culture, music and  food. These we were about to savour but we had our own rituals to endure first.  Shopping. (Ugh!)  So, I followed the girls in and out of numerous quaint shops and pressed them on occasion to walk the dock, until I could  stand it no more! (What is wrong with the female mind that makes them go into store after store picking things up, turning them around, commenting on how expensive these things are and how they could get them cheaper some place else....over, and over, and over again!  Girls, its the same crap in each store!)...ya, I know I'm still  an !@#$% (rhymes with mole!... so don't take me anymore, eh!) I could now understand why Tom was smiling when there was something he could stay and fix on the boat.

                                                                              

     The interesting sights to me, were the boats.  Some colorful.  Some serious working boats equipped with compressors and large hoses that supplied the divers (wearing their large round brass head gear and thick dive suits) with the needed air they required to work for hours at 20 to 50 feet harvesting the sponges.

                                                                             
                                                                                   

     Finally, we get to Hellas Greek Restaurant..now we would get to experience a modicum of Greek culture. Waiters with thick Greek accents,Greek music playing in the background, sangria, Greek salad, gyros, but first a true Greek delicacy, an appetizer of grilled octopus.  We ordered and I went to the rest room to wash my hands before eating. When I returned to the table I wondered about the grinning expression on Beth's face as I sat down, until I looked down on the plate to see 3 large curved tentacles nicely placed and accentuated by lemon slices on each side of the plate.  They appeared to be well cooked as the tiny suckers on each tentacle were blackened.   Beth gagged as I cut into the firm meat and began to chew... "Doesn't taste like chicken," I commented.  Actually it didn't have much taste except for the garlic olive oil dressing drizzled on top.  The texture was firm and slightly rubbery but the suckers were definitely crisp.   I looked into Beth's contorted face when she occasionally looked in my direction. I couldn't help myself...I feigned a slight gag commenting  on how I thought a sucker had gotten stuck to the roof of my mouth, much like a popcorn kernel would! Bless her little heart. She didn't leave the table.  I could hardly wait to take some of this back to Tom!

                                                                       
                                                                        Yummy!!!          

     Mildred and I giggled as we watched Tom jump up and down in anticipation of the surprise we were heating up in the microwave for him.  He sat down in the chair with knife and fork in hand as we presented him with his meal.  Words cannot describe his reaction!  "What the hell is that!" he blurted, then sat silent for a moment staring at his plate.  He shuddered and began rubbing his arms.  "Good god!" he muttered. " My skin is crawling!"
      Mildred and I broke out into hysterical laughter...so hard tears were rolling down my face and poor Mildred had trouble controlling her bladder. He was flabbergasted that I had eaten one leg and that Mildred had even sampled the meat.

                                             
                                                                     "What is it??"                        

                                  
                                                                         OMG!   
                                                                                 

                                                                          
                                                        "My skin is crawling!"                     

    A soft rain began to fall as we laughed at the days experiences.  The boat gently swayed at anchor as we shut off the lights and went to bed.  This would be one of those days we would joke about for a long time.  This is cruising.
    
    
    

   

     I paced the dock.  After arguing all morning, there was no changing Beth's mind. We would go when the fog lifted.  I resigned myself to the fact that we wouldn't be arriving in daylight and surprisingly I was now anxious to get underway, saying "We have radar and we can see 2 buoys away.  Lets go!"  No. We would wait for the fog to lift. 
     The fog began to lift around 10 am.  We said good bye to Jennifer and the dog Spencer, untied from the dock and glided out into the river, warm sun on our faces and not a whisper of a breeze.  We rounded Dog Island into Government cut and there it lay, sparkling in the morning sun and smooth as glass, the Gulf of Mexico.  Wha Hoo! My apprehension began to abate.  Maybe this would be a smooth trip. Maybe I wouldn't suffer from "mal de Mer." Maybe we wouldn't have any problems on this trip.  After all, Tom stated," This is the first time everything has been fixed on this boat. There is nothing left to do."
      I headed the boat due east.  We were told that there was a west to east current  27 miles off shore and that if we headed 16 miles east we would be outside the current and enjoy an even smoother ride. Plus if a storm were to brew up unexpectedly we would be closer to some safe harbours on the west coast of Florida.  We travelled east to Buoy #26 than headed on a direct plot to Anclote Key.  We should arrive around 3 am.

                                      
                                         Dog Island.  Last of the visible land for 20 hours!                                      

     It was smooth sailing. The sun was warm, the water glistening with a cool breeze coming through the open windows and doors.  We all revelled in our good fortune to be able to travel in a beautiful boat with such fantastic weather.  Smooth as silk, until the wind started to freshen in the afternoon. Not bad. No spray over the windows like we experienced in Mississippi Sound.  Just repetitive. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down....ad nauseum. It started slowly as it usually does.  Just a little pressure behind the eyes and a little dizziness, but as the relentless motion of the boat persisted the dizziness increased to the point where I finally turned over the helm to Beth and opted for the one thing that always seemed to help.  Ah! He's going for the gravol or some kind of anti-nausea medication, your thinking.  Not! I have learned after being on my friend, Terry Winchester's, boat that the first treatment for sea sickness isn't medication, food, ginger or looking at the horizon...it is...a lazy-boy chair!  Laugh if you want but it works for me, at least for as long as I am stretched out in the chair.  I did have to get up and take the swinging picture and plaque off the walls as the repetitive drumming against the wall was irritating, but for the most part the nausea and dizziness abated as I reclined in the soft shock absorbing lazy boy.

                                                                                  
                                                       Treatment for Mal De Mer!

     Within a couple of hours I was back up at the helm watching the sun settle in the west and the veil of night start to envelope us.  Or should I say cloak us, because it got black! We turned down all the instruments to their glowing red night mode in an attempt to see out the helm window but it was useless.  We had to keep the chart plotter and radar on to make sure we were on course and not going to run into another boat or obstacle, but there was no way we could see if there were any small objects or debris in the water we might strike!  It began to wear on me. It was like driving a car in an open field with a black cover over the windshield.  You could look out the side doors and see the water  rushing past, lit up by what little starlight there was,  but it was pure blackness out the front window.  I thought,  "This must be what it was like for the astronauts headed into deep space." Than the beginnings of doubt started. What the hell would happen if there was a floating container lost from a ship, lying out there in front of us!  What if we hit it and put a whole in the boat!  How awful must it have been for those poor people who have sunk and floated in the water for days before getting eaten by a shark..(ps it didn't help that I had just read in soundings magazine about a 50 foot Chris Craft that sank after hitting some debris in the water crossing the gulf stream on the way to Bimini. They were travelling the same speed we were going!)
      The fear began to grow and feed on itself....I had enough.  If we were going to sink, I was going to be in a position I enjoyed---back to the supine position.  Beth, Tom and Mildred could navigate in the blackness for a while..I was going to take a nap! I guess that's what ageing does to a person.  Five years ago I would have had a couple of shots of whiskey yelled "Damn the torpedoes" and said "Full steam ahead".  Now, I take a nap!  UGH!
     When I got back up we were just a couple hours from Anclote Key.  I checked the course made an adjustment and decided to slow the boat down in anticipation of the crab pots.  Mildred was the first to spot one--a mere 10 feet from the side of the boat!  We slowed to an idle.  All hands on deck with flashlights (never thought to fix the spot light!) as we idled through the minefield of crab traps still a good 10 miles off shore!  It was slow going but we managed to avoid the traps until....the flashlights died out!  @#$%&!~+* that's it! We stopped. We threw out the anchor and had a rolly night on the hook. Just the kind of motion that makes me puke!  Sooo rather than puke I used my now fully established anti-nausea protocol and went to bed.   When the daylight started to emerge I jumped out of bed and rushed to the helm where I encountered a very bleary eyed Admiral.
 "Why didn't you lie down?" I asked.
 "I sent everyone else to bed!" she gruffed.  "Someone had to keep watch!"
 As she sauntered off to bed, I meekly responded "You could have woke me up." 
"Yea, right !@#$  (I think it rhymed with mole!). 
     Tom and Mildred responded to the motors lighting up and we were now able to see the mine field of crab pots.  "Man we didn't lay this many mines in any one area when I was in the war!" remarked Tom.  With the sun coming up over the horizon we easily managed to avoid the crab pots and cruised in to Anclote Key. 
     Since the majority of us were refreshed (not a lot of laughs to the admiral, ugh!) we decided to go on to Caladesi Island after the park rangers informed us that our 50 foot boat would have enough depth at low tied to stay at the T-dock.   Getting into this national park is tricky.  After coming through the Dunedin draw bridge we had to take a hard turn to the west then turn to 212 deg on the compass at marker 14...and it was "skinny water" soo... of course we got out of the channel and stirred up some mud.  Once back in the channel we followed another boat into the marina and had 3.5 feet of water below our props the whole way to the floating dock.

                                                                           
                                                            Dunedin Draw Bridge  

       Caladesi Island Park and Beach was voted #1 best beach in Florida by Doc. Beach in 2008.  It is a natural beach, meaning everything is left in place.  The sand is not groomed daily (although trash left by those visitors(ignorant enough to not pick up after themselves) is picked up by the park rangers.) Thus, it is a great beach for sea shell pickers....like the Admiral!  (finally a smile on her face!) Kept in its natural state you can start walking through ancient live oak trees, virgin slash pine, coastal hammock community and wind up walking through prickly pear cactus with tropical species of plants surrounding Cat's eye Pond. Wading birds (Ibis, herons and egrets) and Gopher turtles abound. The beach is a young dune system with sea oats, panic grass beach croton and ink berry.
                                                                               

                                                                               
                                                           Hard to take - not!