January 19, 2023: I leave my friends behind in Tarpon Springs and continue down Florida’s Gulf Coast, getting wet in the process.
(continued from At Tarpon Springs, FL)
Thursday was a bright, mostly sunny day that started with calm winds. I decided pretty early on that I’d drive from the command bridge that morning. I had a short cruise and although part of it would be out in mostly open water, most of it would either be in the Anclote River or the Gulf ICW.
Leaving MAR-MARina
For reasons I can’t quite remember, I took my time about getting ready to go. Maybe it was the tide? I don’t like to leave — or arrive, for that matter — anywhere at the lowest tide. I know I showered and cleaned up the cabin before I finally fired up the engine. As the engine warmed up, I climbed upstairs and set up the upper helm with its radio and USB charger for my iPad. I got life jackets on my pups and settled them into the bench seat.
Shawn helped me cast off — there were bow lines tied to two posts quite a bit off the dock from the boat and they were not easy to get to. The nice thing about being backed into a slip is that it’s easy to pull straight out — if you can stay straight in any prevailing wind or current. In the time I’d spent prepping to depart that lazy morning, the wind had kicked up considerably. Still, with the help of my bow and stern thrusters, I was able to depart my slip smoothly. I waved a thanks to Shawn and putted out into the river channel.
It was probably around then that I realized that I’d left my log book down in the main cabin so I wouldn’t be able to take notes. I figured I’d fetch it when we were under way, beyond the narrow and slightly winding river channel. That didn’t happen so I don’t have many notes about the trip.
Unfortunately, part of it was quite memorable.
On Saint Joseph Sound
It wasn’t much of a cruise down the river to Saint Joseph Sound, the body of water between some very flimsy barrier islands and the mainland. The wind was coming up from the south and although it wasn’t very rough right outside the mouth of the river, the farther into the Sound I got, the rougher the water got. It was all about fetch (again): as the wind blows over open water, it picks up energy and momentum and the waves build. I had a good 6 miles of mostly open water to cover before reaching the narrower park of the Gulf ICW, where I fully expected the water to be a lot calmer.
Until then, I had to deal with it.
Normally, the way I deal with areas of rough water is to speed up to minimize my time in those conditions. So that’s what I did here. Water splashed over the bow as I plowed through the swells. Up, down, splash. Up, down, splash. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem. But with the wind in my face and no windscreen in front of me, the splashes were getting me wet all the way up in the command bridge.
This would not do. It was time to move downstairs.
Now, I’ve repositioned from the command bridge down to the main inside helm before — and I’ve done it since. My technique is to check the area in front of me for obstacles, including oncoming traffic, drop the boat down to idle forward speed — about 3 knots — and set the autopilot to keep on a straight path. I can then gather up my things, including my pups, and move them downstairs. I can do this very quickly — usually in less than a minute. Then I come back to the command bridge, disengage the auto pilot (because it doesn’t like to run without forward speed), put the boat in idle, and hurry back to the main helm. I then push a button near the throttle lever to shift the controls to that helm from the command bridge helm. I must have the boat in full idle to do this; it will not transfer control if either station is not in full idle. Once control is transferred, I put the boat back into gear, steer back on course if necessary, re-engage the autopilot, and continue on my way.
I tried to do this. I got to the point where I’d stood up and was preparing to bring my iPad and other smaller things downstairs. But the boat was rocking so violently in the rough water that I didn’t think I could safely move my things and my pups downstairs. It had been a bad decision to drive from the command bridge that morning, but it would be a worse one to try to move down to the main helm where I was.
So I stuck it out. I got back into my seat, throttled the boat back up a bit, and set up my iPad again. Then I adjusted my speed so I wasn’t moving quite fast enough for splashes to get up to the command bridge. Yes, it would take longer to get to calmer water. But I didn’t want to be wet.
Arriving at Clearwater Beach
It took more than an hour to get down the Sound. I was able to get under the Dunedin Causeway bascule bridge without asking it to open — its clearance is 24 feet and I only need 16 (including some wiggle room). For the first time since leaving the Panama City area, I was back in a highly developed area that went on for miles and miles alongside the waterway. There were homes, businesses, marinas, and docks along the mainland to port and, after a while, along the barrier island to starboard.
Then I was passing under the Clearwater Memorial Causeway Bridge and making the right hand turn toward Clearwater Beach Municipal Marina.
The channel I had to follow was relatively narrow with lots of shallow water all around. Almost immediately, I caught sight of a large cruising boat maneuvering erratically in what might be shallow water off toward a yacht club. First moving toward me, then away, then on a course that would intersect with mine. Sure enough, he cut in front of me, heading toward the same marina I was going to. I slowed down to give him space. He was at the fuel dock when I got there. Fortunately, there was space on the other side of the dock for me.
I docked the boat there without assistance. Apparently everyone was too interested in helping the larger boat get its fueling started. When the two dock guys realized I was alone, they sprang into action. But I already had two lines secured.
I had two missions: top off my fuel tank and pump out my waste tank. It was a do it yourself operation. I got to it, glad again that I’d bought the fitting for my waste tank to make it easier to pump out. Since I wasn’t getting any help, I took my blessed time, fueling first and then dealing with the pump out. I half filled the waste tank with fresh water and pumped it out again.
When I was done, I went to settle up and find out where I’d be parked. That’s when I learned that they planned on putting me in an outside slip, which I suspected would be subject to wake from every boat that went past the marina. I pushed back gently. They switched me to an inside slip.
The marina didn’t have floating docks and it didn’t have full length piers. That mean that, once again, I’d have to back into my slip, deal with bow ties on posts I couldn’t quite reach, and cross-tie so the boat didn’t get hung up on tide changes. To make things just a bit more challenging, it was still windy and there was a current.
They sent a dock guy down to my slip and he stood there while I backed in. He was very little help and he obviously knew very little about tying up a boat. He helped me get the boat secure enough that I could kill the engine, get out on the dock, and secure it a little better. I did manage to get a bow line over one of the two posts out front. It was barely satisfactory and I’d be fiddling with the way the boat was tied there for the rest of my stay.
Here’s Do It Now docked at Clearwater Beach Marina. At low tide, getting in and out of the boat was a bit of a challenge.
But at least I’d arrived, dry. It was time to take my pups for a walk and relax.
Here’s my Nebo log for January 19, 2023. You can see where I tried to speed up and then slowed down on the northern part of my trip through Saint Joseph Sound. Download a PDF log file with more info. Track Do It Now on Nebo.
