Davy Jones strikes again.

We got up early and prepared for our days cruise. Gary S cleared out his belongings. There was a bit of confusion with the docking and fuel bill but Bobby finally straightened that out. We took a couple of pics with Gary S a couple of hugs and got on the boat. June 25, 8:00 AM 691 hours. We retrieved our lines waved our “See Yaz” to Gary S on the dock and made our way slowly out the inlet. As we wound thru the markers on this beautiful day, I readied the chartplotter with today’s course. That’s when we heard this awful thud. The boat lurched up and then fell forward. I quickly looked up and saw Bobby had split the red and green buoys right down the middle exactly like we were supposed to do. The buoys on our port and starboard were no more than 10 feet away on either side yet we touched earth ! Incredulous, Bobby and I looked at each other and knew this was very bad. We had that real sinking feeling in our stomachs. He tentatively shifted the starboard engine in gear and that seemed fine so he tried the port engine and everything started wobbling. This felt very serious. While Bobby struggled to maintain our position in the channel, I called Gary S who was still at the marina, explained that we touched and asked him to send someone from the marina out to assist us back. The marina boat finally showed up a few minutes later after what felt like hours and I began readying the bridle for the tow. They clearly had no intention of towing us in and asked us if we had lost power and/or couldn’t steer. Bobby gave it a try and decided we could idle in under our own power. The marina boat told us to stay behind them and follow them in. As we passed near the spot that we had just touched we could see there were a couple of large chunks of loose coral scattered about on the bottom.
That was probably what we hit and realized now the thud that we felt on the way in the previous day was not a wave as we suspected but clearly a “soft” touch in the same location. Hobbling into port, they called a diver to come remove the props and assess the damage. While waiting, we were pretty anxious so I dove on the boat and saw we had just tipped one prop and badly bent the second. This wasn’t pretty. The diver showed up, confirmed what I had seen and removed the props. Unfortunately after he removed them, the diver aka Crazy George said he thought our shaft was tipped so he had us start the engines and put them in gear at idle. Yup, the starboard shaft was rotating out of alignment by ¾ of an inch, we needed a new shaft. Crazy also gave us more bad news,

he told us one prop could be fixed by the shop on the island but the other prop was probably too far gone to be repaired by the island shop, Caribbean Marine and Diesel. Things could have been worse. Options on the shaft were a new one from the US or perhaps Caribbean Marine and Diesel could cut us a new one. Options on the badly damaged prop were not as clear but names like Frank and Jimmies Prop Shop in Ft. Lauderdale and Lauderdale Propeller also in Ft. Lauderdale were mentioned. Crazy told us that Caribbean Marine and Diesel’s phone number was in the marina office so I went and retrieved it. We tried calling them several times that morning but nobody was answering the phone. In the meantime, I started searching for phone numbers of shops and suppliers on the internet while Gary S. and Bobby tried calling them to see if they had the needed parts and if they did pricing and expected delivery. All we could find was a new prop at a couple of places and a shaft that the Silverton dealer in Pompano said they had for his 42’ serial number blah blah blah. Bobby thinking that he might have a shaft made by Caribbean Marine asked the dealer how long was the shaft for his 42 and the dealer said 112”. We found new nibral props were $3200 each and a new shaft was $2080, yikes. One guy had twin bronze props that were 25 by 27 but that would lower our speed and may allow the engines to over rev. Not a great solution but at least something considering he was only asking $1,000 a prop. However, we needed a matching set of those and that was before adding international shipping costs. After calling everyone we could find on the internet at $20 for 4 hours of internet time and $2 a minute for phone time and mostly either getting answering machines or finding nothing we were at a standstill. It was near noon and Gary S had to be at the airport by 1:30 so we decided to head up to the Tiki Bar for a bite. While at lunch, Gina suggested we try calling Caribbean Marine and Diesel again. They answered ! They explained to Bobby that they were relocating their shop that day and had just plugged their phone in, he was the first call. Bobby explained the situation and Mike from Caribbean Marine said he’d be down to pick up the props around 1:30. Great, we finished our lunch, bid goodbye to Gary S once again and right about then Mike showed up for the props. Mike gave us some encouraging news, he figured he could fix both props and he even had enough 2 inch shaft stock to cut us a new one but he couldn’t start working on it that day because he was still getting his equipment back in place from the move. Mike also told us he would need the shaft so he could copy it exactly, sans the bend. We contacted Crazy and told him we needed to pull the shaft for Mike and he said if we got it ready for him he’d pull it the next morning. We spent a bit of time figuring out what we needed to do to get the shaft ready to pull and basically licked our wounds putting around on the boat. We lifted our dejected spirits a little when the marinated steaks we BBQ’d from the Farmer’s Market in Milton were awesome.

Three legged dog eyes chicken legs…

We left the Turks and Caicos Yacht Club to head over to Turtle Cove Marina, just a couple of miles away, to clear in at Customs and fuel up for our Dominican trip. Once again, we tried to locate Sellar’s cut, we proceeded to the waypoint we reached the previous day and even in bright daylight we could not locate the entrance markers.
Backtracking and circling around we just couldn’t find them. Gary S called the marina and after a brunt conversation, he attained coordinates for the channel. Plugging them into the computer, Bobby slowly moved the boat toward the coordinates. Finally after much searching we found these little bouys no bigger than a lobster pot marker marking the entrance to the channel.

As we approached them, I stood on the pulpit and helped string the channel together as we spotted one after another leading us through this sometimes very narrow, shallow and very windy entrance. Coming up on two sets of buoys that were very close together, an oncoming boat stood off as we made our way between them. As we proceeded, I felt a little thud from the bow and so did Bob and Gary S. We all thought it must have been a wave slapping the side of the boat. The wind was still howling pretty good and since our next passage was 175 miles across open sea and we were going to get a late start because of fueling and customs, we decided to wait out the weather since it was going to lie down the next day. It took a couple of hours to clear customs and fuel during which time we had to remain on the boat. Bobby and Gina bandaged the broken vase on the palm tree. Finally we were cleared, fueled and docked in our slip. There was a Tiki Hut in the Marina and we decided to get a light bite and a few cocktails as we relaxed from the previous day’s stresses. We found a pretty good cocktail on the menu, an “island smile”. We had the bartender slightly modify it, no grenadine and add a Meyers floater. After a few of those the island wasn’t the only thing smiling. We had the best cracked conch that any of us had ever tasted and the shrimp wrapped in bacon with a BBQ sauce was scrumptious. We headed back to the boat. Just prior to heading up to the Tiki Hut earlier, Bobby had noticed that the charge on the port batteries didn’t seem to be working. The batteries were completely dead. Which explained another story why the CO detectors were beeping when we were trying to clear the shower sump drains earlier. We thought we had reset the charger and had let it charge while we were at the hut only to find that the batteries were still miserably dead. Into the bilge Bobby went. After a bit of investigation, Bobby pronounced the charger kaput. Fortunately, he had a spare on board from his long cold New England winters. He decided to replace it. This charger was in a very difficult location to reach. In the torrid heat it was a very difficult proposition to remove and replace. While Bobby was removing the charger, this three legged dog came along and started barking at him. I was wondering why the dog was barking… well a picture is worth a thousand words. Captain Chicken Legs was busy at work. It was Gary S’s last evening aboard with us since he had previous engagements planned and was flying out the next afternoon. After my American Chop Suey and Gary S’s Chicken Stroganoff there was no way Gary S was about to leave without a meal of Gina’s Gnocchi. We ate drank and made merry, tomorrow the weather was going to be perfect and we needed an early start.

Battered Bucaneers blow into the Turks.

The next morning, we arose to a thunderstorm. It knocked out power, communications and tripped a release valve on the diesel tanks spilling hundreds of gallons into the marina and mangrove area. We had to wait out the storm. Gary S and Gina walked to a famous nearby church, the church of St. Peter and St. Paul, designed and built by Father Jerome who was an architect and a priest. This is a very beautiful church with brilliantly white towering twin spires. Gary S spotted the church from 12 miles out and used it to guide us to port yesterday. There was a very narrow space in the towers with ladders that one could climb to the top. Gina could fit in the narrow confines but Gary S was relegated to watching Captain Gina climb from sight. Gary S took a picture of her from outside the tower but we’ll never get to see that cause it was on his cell phone.
The storm passed and we set to sea. June 23 10 AM 680 hours. Our trip to Crooked Island was in fairly decent water. I made bananas on english muffin sandwiches for breakfast, tuna fish for a bit later and took a much needed shower. It started to get a bit sloppy out but just around that time we ducked into the lee of Crooked and Acklins Island.
As we emerged from the lee we changed our course to a more southeasterly direction. That’s when we got our asses kicked. Gary S. was at the helm and had his hands full as he tried to steer the course in an angry sea. Water sprayed over the bridge time and again as the 6 to 8 foot waves crashed onto the starboard beam of the boat. The 25 knot winds grabbed the spray and drenched every nook and cranny as if it were butter on a Thomas’s English. Gary S. endured this beating for two and a half hours till we reached our next course change at Plana Cays. I took over the next helm and with a slight course change to a more east south east direction we were able to put the sea a little more to our stern. Still a tough sled. After getting beat up for a couple of hours Bob took his turn at the helm. We were on the windward passage and all of us were punch drunk with the incessant pounding only to be quickly pulled from our misery when we fell off a wave. The boat slammed hard, Gary S was nearly thrown out the front smiley. The last time we experienced this was off the New Jersey coast just before we cracked the muffler. No one wanted to see the inside of the cabin but then it was nearly impossible to get there. It’ll have to wait till port. Gina’s palm fell over AGAIN but this time it cracked the pot with soil all over the deck. Arriving at the Turks, we ducked into the lee, a welcome relief. Cocktails were in sight. Finally reaching our waypoint for Sellers Cut around 6:30 PM, nine hours later, we desperately search for the channel markers but cannot find them. We wander around and finally find some markers. Is this it? Steering down the channel, Gary S. pronounces this is the wrong marina. After a little discussion, we decide to keep our course. We were at the Turks and Caicos yacht club and as we would find out later a 5 star resort in process. A brandy new mega marina, hardly a boat in a slip. Can’t raise anyone on the radio or the cell so we decide what the heck lets tie up. We check to see if we have power, yup, water, yup, good to go. Our yellow quarantine flag is noticed by a customs agent and he comes over asking us questions no one really knows the answer to, at least not yet. After he asserted his authority and giving us the needed forms he reticently said if you want to get off the boat and go have dinner somewhere, feel free. Wow, what a nice gesture. We didn’t leave the boat anyway. After Gary S finally recovered a bit from the days demands he made his infamous chicken stroganoff. Not a bite was left. More grog and bed.

The palm tree almost jumps ship.

June 22 9:00 AM 671 hours
We awake to a very grey morning, no sun. This is not good as our next travel is going to take us over some of the most dangerous cruising area that we will encounter on this trip. The Exuma Bank. This bank is another very shallow area with depths around 10 feet or so. But worse, it is loaded with very dangerous coral heads that lie just below the surface ready to tear running gear and fiberglass from the bottom of a heedless boat. On a bright sunny day it is easy to spot the black coral heads against the aqua water but today without sun, the contrast between the water and them makes them very difficult to spot. The best we can see is a few hundred feet in front of the boat and at 22 knots we have to watch very carefully so that we can effect a course change to avoid them. Bob is at the helm and Gary S. and I keep a watchful eye out barking directions to Bob as soon as we spot one. Three very long hours of this nerve wracking pace and we finally cleared the minefield.
We hadn’t fueled yesterday, so our next stop was Staniel Cay where we would have lunch at this rather infamous little restaurant that supposedly Jimmy Buffet was inspired by when he wrote his legendary Cheeseburger in Paradise song. Pulling into the docks, Gary S. was surprised to see hardly any boats at the docks. The wind was blowing us at them pretty strong and was going to make docking difficult. Hailing the dockmaster we announced our intentions to tie up, take on fuel and have a bite to eat. The dockmaster said sure if you want to try it, she suggested we go to the inside so the wind and waves would blow us off the dock. I don’t know why everywhere we go we can’t seem to get dock tenders to cleat a line so we can work the engines against it to pull the boat into position. Needless to say that didn’t happen here either and it became a very difficult proposition to dock the boat, but we made it. Bob fueled the boat and Gary S. and I went up to order lunch. The cheeseburger on Bahamian bread was pretty good as was the Kalik beer, but then anything tastes good when you’re out on the water all day. We finished our lunches, tried to buy some desperately needed ice but nothing doing they were completely out. This is our third day without ice. We have a few ice trays in the freezer but that’s about it. Anyway, we left there and headed down to Clarence Town on Long Island, Bahamas. It was a nice ride on a comfortable sea. It was late when we arrived in port and finding our route was a little challenging to get in without hitting the coral heads but we made it and docked on the T-head. At Gary S’s request I made my American Chop Suey for dinner. Gary S says this stuff is GREAT ! My mom lifted the basic recipe from Murphy’s Diner in Pascoag R.I. many years ago. I added a little zing to it and now have my own recipe. More grog and bed.

Farewell Mainland good ‘ol US of A.

Bob was up early doing chores around the boat, checking oil, trying to get the macerator to work and most importantly blowing up the dinghy that would be our life raft should we need it during our crossing to St. Thomas. We hadn’t realized that we needed to fly a Bahamian flag while in their waters nor did we remember that we needed a quarantine flag until we cleared customs. Both Bob and I had chartered in the British Virgin Isles and although we had to clear customs there, we never had to fly flags. Gary S’s extensive knowledge of the Bahamas and Exumas was already proving priceless. Gary S said he’d stop by the West Marine store in the AM and pick up the necessary flags. Our goal was to leave by 8 AM but West Marine didn’t open till nine so we had to wait. Gary S and Bob went back to the store when they opened, got the flags and the last macerator pump they had since ours was declared dead. We quickly made the boat sea ready and left the dock. June 21 9:30 AM 662 hours

Making our way down the intercoastal we cleared the two bridges and headed for Bimini 60 miles due east to check in at customs. Gary S guided us thru the narrow cut in the reef and we made our way over very shallow water to Blue Water Marine where we picked up our customs papers, filled them out and had Captain Bob check us in. Customs lightened his wallet by $300 for the privilege of traversing their waters. Once we cleared customs, we cut down the quarantine flag and made our way out the cut. Our first waypoint was the cut between Gun cay and Cat cay which would put us on the Bahamian bank. This cruise was amazing. Sixty miles of aqua blue water only about 8 feet deep over pure white sand. Traveling 22 knots over this was truly an experience. No matter where you looked all you could see for miles was this aqua sea. On the horizon where the sky met the water there was a pink tinge. Stunningly beautiful.

We’ve been in seriously steamy heat for three days now. Everyone is clammy and everything you touch is sticky. The sun is directly overhead as it reaches its’ most northern apogee. The diesels drone on for hours as we broil in the strong sun. The water temp is a hot 92 degrees.

We reach our waypoint at the end of the bank. As we turn toward our final destination for today, Nassau, we literally run off the bank. It’s a cliff in the ocean. The depth drops from a mere 14 feet to over a mile and a half deep. This area is called the “Tongue of the Ocean” probably so named because of its’ shape on the charts. It is a vast area almost completely surrounded by very shallow water.

As we approached Nassau harbor around 7 PM, Gary S told us that we had to call Nassau Harbor Control to get permission to enter their harbor. We answered their questions, got permission to enter and proceeded to our slip at the marina. The end of another very long day on the water. So as we do when we finish each day, we opened a bottle of wine. Choosing to stay on the boat, we BBQ’d up some steaks with rice, beans and Gina’s terrific salad. A rum night cap and bed.
Pictures to follow we're tired had a few nitecaps and will post pics later in this blog and the next two.

The Last Supper (on mainland)

June 20, 10:36 AM 657 hours. Today we'll run the shortest route we've done since we set out. Roughly 60 miles to Pompano where we'll fuel and reprovision the boat. We had a nice smooth cruise barely 1 nautical mile off the coast. It was saturday and there were a ton of boats fishing and cruising. Gina spit polished the interior while we cruised. Reaching the Hillsboro inlet we had to wait a few minutes for the bridge tender. The busiest day in Boston harbor probably isn't as crowded with boats as this was. We had to pass thru this bridge and one more before reaching Sands marina where we'll spend the night before making our way to the Bahamas. Gary met us on the docks.
We fueled and then slid into our slip.
Temps had to be in the 90's with a relative humidity of 90 %, just thinking brought a sweat to your brow. Gina's handiwork on the inside really showed..



Gina had a friend come meet her that she hadn't seen in years. Meanwhile, Gary S and I went off to the grocery and liquor store. No need to buy rum since where we're going has more rum than we can handle and for much less money. Wine is another story though, so we bought nearly three cases. Getting back to the boat Gary S and I plotted our course for the next day. Around 170 miles to Nassau but we'll have to clear customs in Bimin first. That evening we all went out for our last supper on the mainland.

Rum Flu hits the Mary E

June 19, 9:00 AM 648 hours. Cap’n Gina didn’t report to the bridge this morn. She lounged about on the back deck all day sunning herself. It was truly one of the best days we’ve had on this trip so far. Absolutely flat seas, not a storm cloud in sight and nothing but dolphins and flying fish all around. I truly thought she was just enjoying the view from the stern. She really hadn’t spent anytime there during this trip. The boat purred along and she continued to sun. Somewhere around lunch time Bob and I decided we wanted cheeseburgers for lunch. I asked Gina if she’d like one and I got a nod, affirmative. I made the cheeseburgers and brought hers out to her, she nodded her appreciation and continued to stair astern nibbling her burger. We continued racking the miles toward our destination. Arriving at port St. Lucie we’re greeted by a myriad of buoys and had to trust our instincts to lead us to the Marriot where Gary S. is awaiting our arrival. We tensed nervously as we inched over a shallow spot in the Intercoastal Waterway.. 7 feet, 6 feet, 5 feet all engines stop ! We drifted a bit and the depth gradually increased. Whew. We proceeded ever so slowly toward the marina. As we turned toward the marina we saw Gary waiting patiently for us on the dock. He pointed to our slip and we kicked up a bit of mud as we headed there. A few minutes later we were safely tied down at our dock. It wasn’t till after we were tied down that I learned Gina was suffering from a bad case of Rum Flu from the pizza party the night before.

Gary S knew of a good restaurant, the New England Fish House. Dinner was very reminiscent of a great New England fish feast. Probably the last Gina and Bob will taste for a while. Sixty more miles to go before we leave the mainland.

Internet connections may get spotty in the Exumas and the Dominican, but we do expect full coverage in Puerto Rico and St.Thomas. We'll try our best to keep this updated.

Pizza and Rum Rum Rum

Around 5:30 AM this huge thunderstorm came barreling thru. There was constant intense lightning everywhere lighting up the sky as if it were daylight. After it passed, we got a bit more shut eye.

When we finally got up, it was still raining hard and we could see on the local radar that it would stop soon so we waited. Bobby had to put the air filters back on as well as reinstall the drain plug for the muffler. We inspected the patch and everything seemed good, it had cured to a smooth hard surface overnight. Now was the time to check out our handiwork.

Bob fired up the diesels and slowly brought the revs up. Yippee ! We were correct, the engines were starving for air yesterday and that’s why we couldn’t rev them up. We were back to 2700 RPM for a top end on both engines. What a relief. We went down in the engine room to see if the patch was still good and that there were no other leaks. Everything was perfect. Let’s go to sea.

June 18, 10:38 AM 640 hours

We bid Beaufort SC goodbye and headed down the channel to sea for St. Augustine. The day was almost perfect and the diesels purred beautifully as we cruised along. We noticed another casualty from yesterday’s fiasco. The starboard alternator isn’t working, however this is no big deal since they are mechanical diesels and don’t require electricity to run. We’ll fix that later.

Around 5:30 we pulled into St. Augustine inlet and there were no storms to greet us ! I think that’s a first on this trip. This inlet is very tricky and the coast guard has to constantly move the entrance buoys around because of shoaling and buoy movement from large wakes and waves. Even maptech doesn’t have any clear detail on how to get in. We lined up the best we could with the buoys and were very concerned when we saw waves breaking at one of the green cans. We decided to stay away from that since it is a clear indication that the buoy is in the wrong place and the bottom is very shallow there. As we worked our way thru the inlet we watched as the bottom came up from 25 feet to a mere 5 feet under us. Not for the timid, especially after our previous experience. Right after that the water started to deepen and we breathed a sigh of relief. We figured we’d get some local knowledge on that inlet before we head back out there tomorrow.

We pulled into the marina, fueled up and settled down for a couple of cocktails. We tidied up the previous days blog and posted it. At this point we didn’t feel like going into the city like originally planned. Instead, Bobby called the restaurant at the marina to see if we could still get food. It was 9:15, they stopped serving at 9 PM. Even with all his sweet talking nothing doing. So we tried for pizza. Not knowing where anything was around us he called information, explained we were on a boat in a strange harbor and that we’re looking for a pizza place that delivered. He gave her the address we were at and she listed three places for us, now that’s service above and beyond. Anyway, we all had a few rumrunners under our belt when Bobby called the pizza place. Bobby was such a sweet talker that she decided to deliver the pizzas herself. What a hot ticket ! She sat down and had a rumrunner with us, these southerners are such sweethearts. Bob showed her how to make rumrunner and then she made one for us. After she left, we had another cocktail talked about worldly things and hit the sack.

PS For those of you who are having trouble with posting comments because of the word verification, I removed it so you shouldn't have any issues now.

To St. Augustine but Davy Jones has different ideas...

Another 10 hours and 200 some odd miles to our south lies our next destination, St. Augustine Fl.

June 17, 8:18 AM 633 hours.
Just before our departure we posed for a couple of pics. Here is the blogger, navigator and the papa razzi, Capt’n Gina posing in our newly acquired Coinjock attire. Not to be outdone, the financier and Captain when Gina lets him, poses in his finest T-shirt.We bid Charleston adieu and headed out to sea under grey warm skies. As we turned southerly at our first waypoint, we put the seas to our back and the ride smoothed out. Shortly, the sun broke thru and the seas further laid down nicely. Bobby disappeared into the cabin only to return with the best breakfast sandwiches ever! He had a bit of a time with trying to tip the griddle, crack the eggs and balance them on the heat until they solidified. Cooking at sea can be challenging. Two eggs were lost to his efforts but the result was very tasty and we gobbled them down. Somehow the sea makes you very hungry.

The day was glorious as we made our way. I got to enjoy a bit of time out on the front deck. While out on the deck, I noticed the boat was suddenly straining, as if it were a gas boat, to climb the seas in front of it, or so I thought. Then Bobby slowed the boat to idle from our 22 knots. On the bridge, Bobby explained that the starboard engine could only do 1800 RPM rather than the 2270 RPM we had been doing. So we tried taking it out of sync and running them up individually. The port engine would wind up to only 2100 and the starboard only 1800. Something was wrong. To the engine room we go, leaving Gina to steer at idle. Bobby lifted the hatch and we were shocked. There was fluid sloshing all about at the base of the stairs, oil? diesel? water? Upon closer inspection it was a foot of black water over the floorboards ! This is serious. Bobby held the manual switches for the bilge and I watched as hundreds of gallons of black water spill into the ocean. When no more was coming out it was time for us to find the cause. Down in the engine room it was a total mess, black stuff was everywhere.
These engines were brilliant white.


But where did the water come from? It took us awhile, but finally Bobby spotted it when we cranked the engines up. The muffler on the starboard engine cracked. Water and soot was spilling into the bilge when we powered up. It was kind of a two pronged problem first the crack and then the soot blocked the air filters that caused the engine to slow down. Now what? We’re thirty miles offshore. We discover that we can safely run the engines at 1400 RPM and that gives us ten knots. So we plot a course for the nearest land and begin the slow arduous journey to a port in a rolling sea. We check all the marinas near our target and finally decide on one, we correct our plot only to discover we’ve got 40 nautical miles to go. Somewhere around ten nautical miles out from land we get cell coverage again and Bobby calls our home base and chief researcher Tom Fantasia. He explains that we have a crack in the muffler and we’re trying to figure out if it is repairable and if so, what is the best way to effect repairs. We continue our journey and shortly thereafter Tom calls us back. The mufflers are all fiberglass, there is nothing strange inside them just baffles, we can patch the outside and be able to run again. However the air filters are another thing. They are clogged with soot and not allowing enuf air to the engines. Can we get new ones or can we clean these? Tom says there is a procedure with certain chemicals to clean them, however we don’t have the chemicals, we’ll have to MacGyver our way around this.

Port Royal the marina we're heading for seems to have everything we need. Bobby calls ahead for a slip and explains what we’ll need. Bad news they don’t have any fiberglass, good news there is a West Marine 1 mile away and they have courtesy cars.

We finally get into port around 4 PM and are greeted by Larry, he was the nicest most courteous man you’ll ever want to meet. We talked while fueling only to find out he has friends in the BVI’s and loves to charter there. After fueling, we slid the boat forward and then made an assessment of what we’ll need to begin repairs. Up at the office Larry checked us in. This marina is small but spotless and meticulously maintained with nice little homey touches here and there. They are obviously very proud of their marina and it shows.
Anyway, we needed a courtesy car but Larry didn’t have any available so he lent us his ! We asked him where the West Marine was but more important where was a liquor store so we could replenish our white wine and rum! As luck goes, the liquor store is right next door to the West Marine. Finally something is going our way. The West Marine clerk was very helpful in making sure we had everything we needed and how to use it. He didn’t have replacement filters so we asked what chemicals he had that would clean the diesel soot. Apparently down here, they aren’t as crazy about things as we are back in Boston, he said just use Dawn dish soap. Both Bobby and I had forgotten that little trick to get rid of diesel. We got our wine and rum stopped at the Piggly Wiggly for soap and headed back to the boat. First things first, we ice down the wine. Gina started a welcomed laundry while Bob and I washed the tremendous amount of black soot off the outside of the boat. It was still really hot in the engine room and the muffler had to drain first so we decided to have a bottle of wine before tackling the muffler.

Bobby sanded all the paint and prepped the surface of the fiberglass, a dirty dusty and very hot job considering the engine room was hot and the temp outside was 90 plus 90 percent relative humidity. The crack was bulging in one place and about 12 inches long, there was another deformation in the fiberglass about three inches from the original crack. We concurred that was the start of another crack. We’d have to fix both.

I cleaned and washed the air filters. They were so clogged with soot we couldn’t see daylight thru them. Now it was time to fiberglass. Since we got fast set epoxy it was important for us to have everything prepared ahead of time. Gina was the timer for the pot life, I was the mixer and soaker and Bobby laid up the glass. A little while later we were finished, looked better than new.

We cleaned up, took showers and at 11 at night finally had a great meal that Gina cooked up for us. A celebratory bottle of wine and bed. Tomorrow we’ll find out how well we did and hopefully continue down to St. Augustine.

Engine room pics courtesy of Bilge Rat Bob.. Papa Razzi Gina didn't want to mess her hair.

BTW here's a pic where Bilge Rat Bob had to crawl..

BTW If you don’t want to comment, we’d still love to hear from you. My email is Gary, Bob’s is Bob and Gina’s is Gina.