For those of you who may be wondering if we’re frolicking in
the turquoise waters of Bahamas, nope, we’re not. We’re still in Miami.
Having missed our weather window last night, we’ve decided to stay until
the next window pops up. We’ve
been anchored out here in Miami now for about a week, and aside from a few last
minute chores, such as wiring up our last solar panel, some last minute mass
provisioning, and awaiting to get our dinghy back, we’ve been taking it pretty
easy. We’ve been to shore only a
handful of times since we’ve been here, and being anchored out has had its own
set of highlights and pitfalls.
Being stuck on the boat isn’t as bad as most of you landlubbers may
think. It may seem mundane and
boring, and at times it can be, but to be honest, it’s been quite a thought
provoking and pensive time for me.
Days are filled with random little chores, and coming from a life where
there was a set schedule, I’ve had to develop some semblance of structure for
myself. Creating to-do lists
keeps you from getting lost in the vortex of being on anchor time. There always seems to be something to
do, whether it’s putting last night’s dishes away, checking our battery status,
or diving to clean the bottom, it seems grains of time pass through the hourglass
much quicker when you fill it when semi-productive tasks.
We had a crazy night the night before we were originally
planning to leave that swayed our decision. Two days ago, we had rented a car to do some very last
minute re-provisioning. After seeing
how much we were actually using, we had decided, surprisingly, that we needed
to get some more stuff. I know,
what the hell right? But after
being aboard full time in the past two weeks, we realized that we were blowing
through random things like toilet paper, rice, paper towels, and kool-aid ;) at
a much quicker rate than we had originally anticipated. We had decided it was
best to just get more so as to not have to worry about it in a foreign
land. So off we went driving
around in awful Miami traffic, scurrying from West Marine, to Target, to
Walmart, and lastly the Laundromat.
Time really got ahead of us.
Not anticipating that the day’s errands were going take so
long, we didn’t finish until well after sunset. Well stupid us, since we hadn’t realized that it
was literally going to take us all day, we didn’t think to turn on our anchor
light. Stupid, stupid
mistake! By the time we had even
realized our dire situation, we were already well on our way with our dinghy
packed full of groceries. Since
the draft of our boat kept us from anchoring anywhere close to the mooring
field, where we had anchored was about a mile offshore. So here we were with the dinghy packed
to the brim with our clean clothes, grape soda, and other very important household
items, with me in my sundress, groping around in the dark wondering where the
heck Moitessier was. We were about
½ a mile out before we started to get a little nervous. We realized that the without our anchor
light, there was no way in hell we were going to find Moitessier. At night, things that would seem
innocuous in daylight take on a more sinister edge. The waves seem a little bigger, every shadow looks like the
fin of a shark, and channel markers become much further away than they
appear. We had remembered that we
had anchored just to the right outside the channel, but for some reason, in our
tiny little dinghy, we couldn’t seem to gauge what the channel marker lights
were versus every other light on shore. After driving around in the dark for about an hour, we
realized that the wind and current had set us much further than we had thought,
so we started to head more to the north.
In my adrenaline fueled state, I didn’t even have time to panic as what
was running through my head was some half drunk asshole that had plowed through
the bay at break neck speeds, had hit Moitessier in the dark and she was now in
the process of sinking, which was why we couldn’t see her. It would be our own fault as well and
we’d be the ones liable if anyone
got hurt.
I called her name into the wind, much like one would do when
they’ve lost their dog, roaming around in the streets hopelessly calling Fido
in vain. Shouting “Moitessier,
where are you?”, as if somehow she’d hear me and cruise on by. I know, fear had made me lose my
mind. Just as I was signing my
last covenant to Allah, Buddha, Zeus, or whomever, vowing that if we were to
find her, that I would never do something so reckless again, did she appear out
of nowhere. Just sitting
peacefully, rocking back and forth, minding her own business. I was never so relieved in my
life. Sounds a bit histrionic, but
really it was like spotting a well in the desert. As we approached her, I showered her with love. Hell, I think I even frenched her. As soon as I stepped aboard, all the
composure I had kept throughout the ordeal completely drained out of me. I started bawling. Not tears of joy, no, nothing that
graceful, it was more like a full on whaling. Crying, stuttering, panting, boogers running down my face
kind of crying. Frank didn’t
really know what to do with me because I’m normally pretty calm when things
like that happen, but he just hugged me, told me it was over and that we were
ok. That seemed to calm me down a
bit, though my heart was racing for the next hour. Lesson for the day was, TURN THE DAMN ANCHOR LIGHT ON when
you leave, especially if you don’t know when you’ll be back. Another lesson learned was, when
transporting groceries, bring a couple of garbage bags with you so that you can
wrap them up and keep them dry.
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| Drying out the goods |
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| Dinghy full of stuff |
So in light of what happened, we decided to just take it
easy and not rush taking the passage.
That ordeal stressed us both out and we realized that there was no real
reason for us to rush. Especially
since we hadn’t gotten our dinghy back yet, nor had we filled our fuel and
water tanks, or had we gotten propane, as well as many other last minute things
that we hadn’t thought to do. Our
instincts told us that being on a tight schedule, trying to beat the weather
was going to lead to many more stupid mistakes. And so here we are, sitting outside Hurricane Harbor,
listening to the number of party boats blasting Reggaeton and Merengue,
watching intoxicated jetskiers whiz by.
Perhaps it was foolish to put it off as it may mean a week’s delay, and
our buddy boat is already celebrating in Bimini, but hey, I’d rather be safe
than sorry.
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| Our lovely lady anchored out |
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| View of Miami from our butterfly hatches |
