Southbound Part Two : Afloat and A Tow

Adam’s alarm started ringing a few minutes before eight and we both struggled to open our eyes. We had slept less than two hours, but we couldn’t afford to hit the snooze button and we both knew it. Almost immediately, Adam crawled out of the Vberth and climbed up on deck. He gave our Mercury motor a quick pep talk and tried starting her up. I laid below listening to the sound of the pull cord being yanked out and then snapping back in, hoping each time that it would be followed by the sound of our little motor turning over. 

After a few minutes, I got up and started making coffee, while Adam did everything he could think of to get the motor running. He replaced the spark plugs, the fuel filter and the kill switch. Then he checked and cleaned all of the connections, but she still wouldn’t start. We looked at one another, Adam’s eyes were thick with frustration and exhaustion, and we both knew that it was time to forget about the motor, pull the anchor and raise the sails. We hoped for enough wind to get us to the entrance of Boca Grande Pass, which is located three miles out in the Gulf at the end of two impassable shoals that line the channel on the both the north and south sides. We were around eight miles away from the channel entrance and a total of twelve miles away from the protection of Charlotte Harbor, with only five or six hours before the bad weather was due to set in.

We sailed close hauled (as close to the wind as a boat can sail) in light wind for around two and a half hours and were slowing approaching the pass, but also slipping farther to the west than necessary to reach the first channel marker. We tacked and held the same point of sail, heading southeast toward the shoals that line Boca Grande Pass. We planned to tack again once we got close to the shallows, in hopes that we would then be able to hold a course directly for the channel marker, and eventually slip into the pass. As we continued out into the Gulf, the wind picked up and the chop grew. When we reached the edge of the channel fairway, we tacked and began sailing southwest once again. The surf was beating against the bow and starboard side, rocking the boat in a complex but methodical rhythm. We were still over three miles from the entrance, and beginning to face the reality that we probably weren’t going to make it into the channel before the approaching weather. 

After some discussion, we decided to turn and sail parallel to the pass, toward the shore of Gasparilla Island. Then we’d attempt to sail through the narrow Swash Channel that leads into Charlotte Harbor, just between the island shoreline and the long stretch of shoals that line Boca Grande Pass. While Adam and Mack managed the sails, I read as much as I could about Swash Channel, in our Florida cruising book and online, on my phone. Everything warned of shallow depths and shifting shoals and battling currents, but since our boat draws less than four feet and our motor wasn’t working and a squall was quickly approaching, we agreed that it was the only option we had. Mack and I stood on the bow, keeping a close eye on the visible sea floor and estimating the depth. (Have I mentioned yet that we discovered early in the trip that our depth gauge doesn’t measure anything shallower than ten and a half feet? Yeah, that made things a bit tricky at times and more exciting, in a thrill seeking sort of fashion.) Adam steered the boat close to shore and into the narrow channel. We were almost all the way through when we were forced to tack, to avoid a shallow section just off the the southern tip of the island, and we lost most of our speed. We could see the water churning in front of us, where the two channels merged and the currents collided. We were afraid that without enough speed, they would push us aground, either against the beach or the shoals lining the pass. We quickly decided that it was too risky and turned the boat around and sailed back out of the channel and along the coastline. Then we set an anchor a few hundred feet from the beach to discuss the empty list of options we had. 

Day 3 : Route toward Boca Grande Pass and Attempted Swash Channel (The anchor symbol in the lower right corner is where we had initially planned to anchor once we reached Charlotte Harbor, but we ended up docked a bit farther east.) 

Adam grabbed the VHF radio, turned it on and we huddled together to listen to the weather and sea forecast. It warned of a small craft advisory going into effect that afternoon and we knew we couldn’t stay anchored out in the Gulf. We had to get into the harbor and find a protected place to anchor or tie up. I walked to the back of the boat and, in a low and calm voice, explained to our outboard motor how important she is to us and how much we love her. Then Adam and I both tried starting her up again but she just didn’t have any life in her. The only option we had left, (a HUGE thank you to our friend Bart who highly recommended we buy towing insurance), was to call Boat US and request a towboat to come get us and tow us into the harbor.  

Captain Rich, with Tow Boat US, pulled up alongside Lil’G about thirty minutes later and after a few questions and brief banter, he quickly explained the towing process and tossed us a couple lines to hook to the cleat on our bow. Then he set off, looking back often to make sure all was well, and pulled us with ease through Swash Channel.

Less than fifteen minutes later, we were in the harbor and the protection of the surrounding land was evident in the calmer wind and water. Captain Rich called us on the radio to tell us that our best option was for him to tow us to a small marina near the Tow Boat headquarters on the northern tip of the town of Bokeelia, where we could tie up for a couple days and have our motor looked at. The location also offered perfect protection from the southern wind that was predicted to build to over 25 knots that night and continue through the next day. His plan sounded like a great deal and since we weren't familiar with the area, we were happy to hear his recommendation. Around two o’clock Captain Rich helped us nose our bow up into the marina dock. We jumped off, secured our dock lines and thanked him profusely for his help. We all quickly slipped into a relaxed state and the guys crawled into their berths for some much needed sleep. 

I was sitting outside chatting on the phone as the natural light dimmed and the leaves on the bushes behind me began to rustle loudly. I stood up and turned around to walk back to the boat and in front of me the sky was black, with a defined cloud line looming over the trees on the far side of the marina. I climbed on the boat and began cleaning up lines and stowing anything below that I didn’t want to get wet. I could see lightning high in the clouds to the west and was just finishing up when the rain started falling.

The weather woke the guys up and we all sat around the table, listening to the pounding rain and the thunder, with smiles on our faces. We were so grateful to be in the protected harbor, tied up to a sturdy dock, rather than slamming around out in the Gulf. Especially grateful when Mack chef’d up some BBQ pineapple meatballs with rice. Yummy. 

The following morning we woke up well after the sun. While I fixed coffee and breakfast, Adam called the mechanic that Captain Rich had recommended for outboard motor repairs and began some troubleshooting over the phone. I stopped what I was doing to help him test the spark plug and the second time he pulled the cord, I didn’t think I saw a spark, but it sure sounded like she wanted to fire up. Adam removed the spark tester, reattached the spark plug and pulled the cord again. Maybe it had been the 36 hour break, maybe it was that we had no plans of moving that day, but she fired right up. On recommendation Adam ran her at half throttle for thirty minutes, before turning her off and trying to start her again. Once again she fired right up. After a few more words with the mechanic over the phone, reading some blogs and forums online, and studying the motor, Adam concluded that we must have repeatedly flooded her by pressing the fuel bulb on the motor and that a dirty carburetor wasn’t helping. We started her up a handful of times throughout the day without any further issues and were still somewhat stumped, but very happy that she was back in action. We spent the rest of the day relaxing and made plans to continue south the following morning. 

The next day we headed out into Charlotte Harbor to link up with the ICW and follow it down to Sanibel Island, where we would return to Gulf waters. The winds were quite calm considering the weather the previous two days, but the sun was shinning, the sails were up and we were happy to be back on the move.  

While Adam and Mack held down the deck, I slipped below to make them an extra special Valentine’s Day breakfast. I cooked up some banana pancakes with peanut butter and maple syrup, and some pineapple upside down pancakes with coconut syrup. Gotta show them boys some love!

We slowly floated, the sails pushing us along at a graceful pace, down the ICW. When we neared the eastern tip of Sanibel Island, we tucked Lil’ G up in between some small mangrove islands and set our anchor. Then we did the only thing that seemed fitting after a warm and relaxing day on the boat, we dove off for a swim. Mack and I went first and after some reassuring words about the warmth of the water, Adam followed. 

After splashing around for a bit, we cracked open some beers and enjoyed the beautiful sun set, followed closely by a spectacular moon rise.

Day 5 : Route from Bokeelia to Sanibel Island

The following morning, we woke up fairly early and motored toward Sanibel bridge and out into the Gulf. Then we raised the sails and set a course for Marco Island. The day started out calmly, with decent wind and a bit of chop, but as we neared Marco Island the wind picked up and shifted a bit, and the waves grew larger. About a mile out, we decided to lower the sails and motor the last stretch to the channel entrance, on the north side of the island. 

Adam was at the helm, maneuvering Lil’ G toward the channel entrance, with the waves building behind us and then dropping away. Every minute or so, the motor would get almost completely submerged in a wave and then when it passed, the propeller would lift out of the water, causing Adam to have to throw it into idle or neutral. I was sitting in the cockpit, nervously staring at the shoreline in the distance, when I noticed Mack, up near the bow, jerk backwards and whip his hat off. He waved it in front of his face and then paused, looking back to inform us there was a bee buzzing around his head. Despite what he thought, the bee hadn’t left, but instead found Mack’s arm and dung its stinger in. That’s when Mack informed us that he is allergic to bees. He and I quickly climbed into the cabin and he knelt on the floor, letting his arm hang down to keep it below his heart, while I began searching through the med bag for bendryl. Meanwhile Adam did his best to keep the boat moving forward while the motor dipped in and out of the choppy waves. I found Mack some Benadryl and climbed back out into the cockpit to check the charts and find the closest establishment we could dock at in the channel, just in case we needed to get Mack to a hospital. 

Thankfully, as we entered the channel about twenty minutes later, the benydryl began kicking in and the waves started to smooth out. It looked as though we’d all live to see another day, and so that evening when we raised our beers, we said a toast to that.  

Day 6 : Route from Sanibel Island to Marco Island