Cat Cay to Ft. Lauderdale

"There's no place like home."  Dorothy

Up before dawn, our little crew departed Cat Cay Marina and passed gently through the passage just north of the island into the Straits of Florida.  The sun rose just behind a long standing lighthouse as we sailed west of it. 

Wind speed was perfect and just from the right angle to provide over 8 knots of propullsion almost all the way across, a record for Llyrical.  Cat Cay remained in sight for about two hours before it was only us and the deep blue sea.

Just before noon, we sighted Florida and called Homeland Security with our "local boater numbers" allowung us to clear customs and immigration from the water.  How lovely! 

Just after lunch, we approached the inlet for Ft. Lauderdale.  We made our way, via a series of canels off the ICW, to one of the municipal marinas.  We would pay there for a week what it would cost us for only one night in an ICW premier marina.  We also wanted the shelter that the municipal marina brought.  Llyrical would be there for up to a week awaiting our hired Captain and passage to Chesapeake Bay where she would go into brokerage.

After tying up, we took a cab to the airport to secure the largest one-way rental vehicle possible as we would spend all of the following day packing and largely emptying our beloved boat. 

We had dinner at an off the beaten path Spanish restaurant and spent our last night aboard.  All of the next day, and a bit of the following, we emptied what amounted to a small house.  Our drive to Tallahassee, ending the adventure of a lifetime, was uneventful.  sandra

April 30 - May 2: Cat Cay

"How I wish that somewhere there existed an island for those who are wise and of goodwill In such a place even I would be an ardent patriot." Albert Einstein

The Cat Cay Club, a private island of lovely homes, a marina, an airfield, and a restaurant and shopping complex complete with a rotating doctor, existed long before gated communities; fifty years to be exact.  It had an authenticity that a similar complex on Bimini sorely lacked.  On the other hand, its marina was largely deserted and the marina dockmaster first responded, and then later, ignored our requests for assistance for over an hour and a half while we maintained position in increasingly higher winds with a badly injured Captain.  Finally, it was left to a Dutch crew on another sailboat to help us tie up.  My repeated calls on both VHF and cell phone went wanting.

By the time we got to land, I was as mad as I could ever recall being.  So mad, John feared I would punch out the dockmaster once I found him.  After all, John was in terrible pain and needed rest.  The dockmaster, once found, feared that too.  I merely resorted to yelling my concerns at the top of my lungs, not very lady like. Then, I went to land and found the Asst General Manager to complain while John took Murphy to land.  The Asst General Manager dealth well with me and provided a lovely dinner at their restaurant by way of apology.

Not completely satisfied, I also visited the General Manager the following day.  It was a shame our arrival was so distressing because, in most other respects, Cat Cay was a lovely stop.  We chatted with a private chef at the bar, had two delicious dinners ashore and shopped at the well appointd boutque.

We departed after two rest days at dawn getting ourselves off the pier and making way across the Gulf Stream home.  sandra

April 29: Mackie Shoal

"The art of life is the art of avoiding pain and he is the best pilot who steers clearest of the rocks and shoals with which it is beset."  Thomas Jefferson

What a night!!!  What a poor decision to continue past Chubb Cay.  Laterwe were reminded of that fateful evening on our southbound journey from Rock Hall, MD to St, Augustine, FL when we elected to continue past the Solomons and ended up coming into an anchorage at 10:00pm after enduring 30 KT winds for several hours.  Thank goodness for full moons and John's piloting skills.

After passing up the Chubb Cay anchorage, we hit the same 30 KT winds and 8 ft seas on the very exposed Bahama Banks.  When we finally decided to anchor, we were at a depth of 14 ft, with high winds and high seas with no land in sight.  Presumably, we were off the high speed ferry route.  John went forward and, while there, badly wrenched his knee but did set the anchor.

Then we went below to try to sleep.  John took the main salon settee and I went to the forward berth.  After being airborne a time or two as the boat bobbed up and down, I gave up and joined Murphy and all our gear in the aft berth.  It actually felt good to be cramped.  John discovered me there during the night.

At first light, we made our way to Cat Cay.  With luck, we would arrive early afternoon.  sandra