From one beautiful place to another….

…and happy to be alive!  The last five months of sailing have changed us- we're broke now!  Seriously though, it was nice to step off the hamster wheel for a while and slow things down.  What a luxury is was to have time to make meals together, study marine charts over morning coffee or even do our laundry in a bucket.  For us, this voluntary simplification will act as a reminder that the best things in life are often the most basic.  Of course, we're happy to be back in the world of smart phones, public transport, shopping malls and deadlines- but we sure will miss the freedom of the literally going where the wind takes you.  Today, it's taking us to work.  Yippee!

Thank you for visiting our blog and sharing our adventure.  We look forward to seeing you all soon!  Godspeed!

Love Marianne and Matt (and the Wookie)

Before and After?

The guys at the boatyard parked "Maranatha" nose to nose with another Catalina 30.  This  poor girl (on the right) has been living in the yard for 15 years.  I think they positioned us here on purpose to motivate us not to let Maranatha suffer the same fate.  As you can see, neglect has taken it's toll.  For us, it's a reminder to get back down here soon.  Conditions during Florida summers can be harsh.  Rainfall in a recent season was 7 feet!  Add to that sunlight, extreme temperatures, high humidity, hurricanes and a plethora of insect life and you've got a pretty hostile environment.  We've done our best to prep our boat for these punishing conditions, but really there's only so much we can do.


At the advice of the yard workers, I drilled a small quarter inch hole in the bilge for drainage.  Apparently more boats sink on land than in the water, and with the batteries disconnected and no bilge pump working, this is our best chance of avoiding a cabin flood.  That said, it was a little unsettling, drilling a hole in our boat.   

With "Maranatha" snug as a bug, we said our farewells.  She's been so good to us, taking us over 1000 miles without a complaint.  We will miss her dearly, but we are excited about the next stage of our lives.

And so we're off to Fort Myers, where a real bed awaits us (for the first time in almost 4 months).  Seriously, we're exhausted.  Can't speak for Marianne, but I think I'd like to order a really big pizza, drink some beer and generally just be a sloth for the next 20 hours.  Hopefully, this will prepare us for our re-integration to life as landlubbers.  My memories of life on land are foggy, but I have a vague recollection that it involves pizza.  Mmmmm pizza.  Flight leaves in the morning.  We can't wait to get back to the land of maple syrup and free health care!  Mmmmm healthcare.  

Up Up and Away!

Thumbs up for hitchhiking!

Two in fact!  I'd give hitchhiking two thumbs up!  When nobody answered our request for a ride into town, Matt and I were a little stuck.  We were running out of time and needed to get into Ft Myers, so we could rent a car, get to the hardware store and start prepping the boat to be taken out of the water.  The temperatures have been intensely hot.  It was 92 degrees Fahrenheit (for you metric folks-that translates to 50 centilitres of sweat every hour) and we couldn't leave Wookie on the boat. We worried that hitching with an animal would put us at a disadvantage, but aw shucks, we love that little guy.  So, we woke at 6, made a sign and headed to the highway to give the passing cars the thumbs up.  It took over an hour to even get to the main road and we started to question our plan.  (Though we saw some nice country side along the way!)

46 cars passed us by.  We tried not to take it personally.  47, 48, 49.......a red truck put on it's brake lights.  Hooray!  Matt, Wookie and I ran euphorically down the road.  I felt one third scared, one excited and one relieved.  We hopped in the back of the pick up and met Andrew, Andy and Daniel. A trio of all American guys who happen to feed tigers hitchhikers for a living.  Ha!  Just kidding...about the hitchhikers, not the tigers.

Not only did they take us to Ft Myers, but they drove us all the way to the airport, where we could rent a car.  Over an hour later, we parted ways so thankful that these amazing strangers had taken a chance on us, and had gone so far out of their way to help us out.  Faith in humanity = restored.

This is not my favourite part of the trip

Yes, we knew this part was coming.  No, we're still not ready to go home.  (Except for the fact that we miss YOU!)  120 days on the boat and now it's time to take her out of the water.  I (in my sailing fantasies) assumed this meant bringing her up on land and kissing her goodbye until next year.  Turns out there is a little more to it than that.  In the next 24 hours, we will:

• Take off and pack up the Jib and Main sails
• Remove sheets and halyards
• Take the labels off canned goods that will keep until next year (cockroaches can lay eggs in the glue- EW.)
• Give away all perishable food
• Empty the water tanks
• Store all books and charts in ziplock bags
• Top up diesel and add biocide to tank
• Empty and clean out the bilge (Dibs out)
• Vinegar all surfaces to prevent mildew growth
• Oil all teak to prevent uv damage
• Wax the deck, also for sun damage
• Charge batteries 
• Pack our stuff (How do I accumulate so much, how?!)
• Fix solar fan (It actually died today. TODAY!)
• Bag all bedding and cushions
• Set roach, ant and mouse traps
• Rent a car
• Remove and stow bimini
• Secure dinghy on bow
• Empty the fridge (oh dear god, it's a black hole.....mmmm cheese?)
• Get tarps, bungee cords, duct tape, biocide, wax, teak oil, chain and ice cream.

Did I mention that we're in the middle of nowhere?  Seriously, there's alligators swimming around our boat.  This place is truly in the boondocks.  I return to my lack of organizational and research skills here (guess the apple DOES fall far from the tree, mom) when I tell you that I just assumed we could catch a shuttle from the boat yard, rent a car or take a bus into Ft Myers.  We are 50 miles from Ft Myers at a "do it yourself" boat storage yard, and in this case "do it yourself" means "good luck suckers".  Nice one team!  Maybe I shouldn't assume that being in the states means wifi access, lattes and cabs on every corner.

Don't worry!  It will all work out!  We've posted a sign on the men's bathroom door asking for a ride- with the promise of gas money.  Surely someone will be going.  Three cheers for optimism!

Reconsidering traditional tools of navigation

GPS is telling me I'm sailing through land, but my eyes are telling me otherwise.  Who do I trust?

Through the locks and onto Lake Okeechobee…..on speed!!

Salt Water Freeway

Marianne and I weren't sure exactly how it would play out going up the ICW.  Our first day on the "ditch" brought us through 8 draw bridges.  We didn't really understand the whole etiquette of hailing the bridge operator to request an opening.  So at the first bridge, Marianne got on the VHF and yelled, "Wizard let us pass!".  It worked, the bridge opened.  So cool!

Oh my gosh! It's a Merica!

We woke up on Tuesday morning (only slightly late) at about 3:00 a.m, made a fresh pot of crappy coffee and went over our departure plan.  Things were going pretty smoothly as we pulled away from the dock and headed out into the pitch black.  A little nervous because both of our spotlights had stopped working, we decided to look on the bright side and be thankful for the intermittent flashes of lightening helping us to see for a few seconds at a time.

As we motored slowly out of Bimini's narrow inlet, everything was going according to plan.  Everything except for a huge dredging barge that appeared to be blocking the channel.  We'd seen this barge and its long (2 ft diameter) hose snaking its way to shore the previous day, as we stood on the beach and planned our exit.  Problem was, it had moved and that massive hose was invisible to us under the cloak of darkness .  As we got closer, we kept expecting to see it more clearly and find a safe path around it whilst avoiding a string of ocean breakers to our right.  It wasn't happening.  Matt couldn't see anything, and I wasn't doing much better up on bow. The sound of the crashing waves was ominously close.  Sometimes you just have to cut your losses, turn around and head back to the dock, and watch "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" until the sun comes up.

Take two!  Out we go again, this time at 6:00 a.m.  We successfully pass the barge this time and marvel at how we miraculously didn't hit it on our first attempt.  The forecast was looking good, but the skies… not so much.  We were surrounded by threatening cells on three sides.

Storm number 1:  a LOT of rain and thunder.  Intimidating at first, it actually ended up helping us out!  The wind accompanying the rain sent our speed up and we were grateful for the boost.  Wookie is annoyed at being wet.

Storm number 2:  This one is smack dab in the Gulfstream, where the northward current is about 3+ knots.  More rain and thunder- some lightening, and an unexpected wind shift to northerly.  This was very bad (wind that opposes current causes dangerous swell). Although we were making really good time (averaging 7.5 knots), almost everything on and in the boat was wet.  Matt got worried, as the seas kept building, and diverted our course to Fort Lauderdale, the closest port.  10 minutes later, the wind died and we resumed our original course to Lake Worth.  Mother Nature, you're a fickle broad.

So the seas were finally calming and that the weather was looking up.  The sun was shining.  We were in the clear.  FAT CHANCE SUCKAS!!!!

Storm number 3:  Thunder, no lightening, but some of the nastiest swell we've seen.  The forecast had called for very light winds close to Florida, but it was definitely gusting 30+.  We were running, the winds at our back, a handkerchief of jib was all the boat could handle.  We surfed some of the waves (and hit 9.3 knots at one point!), while others threatened to crash over our stern.  As we neared Lake Worth, we were anxious at the fact that we were the only boat on the water.  When we finally did sail into the harbour we were all soaked, shivering and riding a high of post storm exhilaration :)

Who cares? We're here!  We dropped the hook and collapsed.  The next morning we headed to U.S. Customs.

"I see you've been denied entry before"  the border guard says directly to me.  "Uhhh, yeah I guess so, but they let us in eventually",  I stutter back.  After round three of questioning and scrutiny at our flight info- as well as a phone call to confirm our airline reservation itinerary (we must look like liars) we are admitted into the states.  This time our visa is not for 6 weeks, but for 6 months!  WOOP WOOP!  Party time! 

So now we depart.  Up the ICW (Inter Coastal Waterway) to Glades where we will take Maranatha out of the water, mend some wounds (hers and our own) and fly back to our beloved Vancouver.  

Here's a music video we found to express how we feel about that.  Hope you enjoy it as much as we do :)  

Into the blue

It's amazing to think that just shy of 3 months ago we arrived on these banks, weary, naive and thirsty for adventure (and rum!).  Sadly, the time has come for us to leave these beautiful waters and cross the infamous Gulfstream for a second time.  We've topped up our fuel, water and supply of yams and plan to leave Bimini at 2am tomorrow morning.  This should give us a good head start for the 76 nautical mile journey to Lake Worth, Florida where we will once again go eye to eye with US customs.  Bahamas, we love you ..... and we'll be back.  

A Comedy of Errors…

Our last stop in the Berry Islands brought us to Chub Cay….almost.  We radioed in to see if they had a slip for us for the night and to check their rates.  $4.35 a foot????  YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!  Most of the marinas we've stopped at have been about $1.00-$1.50 per foot.  This place was highway robbery.  So, we decided to go straight through, placing our bets on a dubious forecast to go 80 nautical miles west to Bimini- thus avoiding an expensive night, and staying ahead of schedule (albeit somewhat un-mentally prepared for the two day journey).

Things start going a little downhill from here. 

An hour or so later, as Matt leaned over the side of the boat to clean Wookie's astro turf in the ocean, the turf fell overboard.  Turf overboard!!  We circled the boat around and headed back, but turf begin to sink so I dove into the ocean and for the first time experienced the very odd sight of Matt sailing the boat around me.  Turf in hand, I clambered back up onto the boat and began to dry off.  

Shortly thereafter, we noticed our speed had been dwindling, and though it could have been due to a current, the more likely culprit was sea grass wrapped around our propeller and rudder.  Back I went into the water.  Matt is usually our designated diver, but since he had an ear infection, the torch was passed to me.  Sure enough handful after handful of sea grass came off.  We were hauling more grass than a VW van with BC plates.

Bad things happen in threes right?  HA!  I wish!  After our barbeque cover blew over board (we managed to get that with the boat hook so we were saved another dive) we figured maybe our luck was about to turn.  An adorable tiny bird perched on our deck.  Where did it come from? This minuscule creature was in the middle of nowhere, 30 miles from land and in the midst of wind and drizzling rain.  We marvelled at it hopping around on deck- it even landed on Matt's arm for a few seconds.  We attempted to feed it some seeds when- poof!  It disappeared into our V-berth hatch burrowing out of sight in the vicinity of our bed.

It was growing increasingly dark and I was growing increasingly tired so we decided to drop the anchor.  Right then and there, miles from land, there was only about 18 feet of water.  I put the engine in reverse to set the anchor- my mind drifting to thoughts of my warm, dry bed (now shared with a Bananaquit). I put it back in neutral and ERRRRRR! Off goes the engine alarm to tell us that when we reversed, our dinghy line got wrapped in our prop.

Refusing to deal with our latest problem in the dark, we exchanged kind words and marvelled at strength of our relationship amidst such adversity.  NOT!  We just about killed each other and went to bed angry!

That's when the thunder and lightening started and we discovered not one, but THREE new leaks on our boat.  

After a wet, rocky and sleepless night, Matt's tired, I'm tired, and Wookie's never felt better.  Our little stowaway emerged just after breakfast, found it's way to the deck and flew off to sea.  Strange indeed.

Questions no one knows the answers to

Living on a boat means lot's of free time to get lost in your thoughts.  When we're away from land, staring out at sea, it's hard not to feel somewhat minuscule in the grand scheme of things.  We found this video and it's pretty stellar....gotta love TED!

http://www.ted.com/talks/questions_no_one_knows_the_answers_to.html

Sailing with Skipper Marianne: Episode III

How to make a moderately successful sailing dinghy

Step 1:  Find a tree (preferably one that is dead already)

Step 2: Cut the branches off with an hatchet.  (We used a sharp rock, a chisel and a hammer - we don't suggest using these tools, unless you are unemployed and have a lot of time on your hands…..like us.)

Step 3:  Attach the now bare tree to your dinghy.  Hooray - it's a mast!

Step 4:  Take a break.  Drink a beer if you have one, cold works best.





Step 5:  Cut a sail.  *Hint - tarps work much better than bedsheets.  We found out the hard way, you don't have to.


Step 6: Duct Tape!  Put a strip down the leech of the sail.  Yellow works best.







Step 7:  Attach sail to mast and tie a line around the clew.  We used plastic tie-wraps for the mast and some light line as our main sheet.

Step 8:  Sail away, sail away, sail away.


Ooops!  Looks like we forgot the keel!  No sailing upwind, I guess.  See you later Matt!  Hope you brought lots of water.....

Blue Hole!

After a series of wrong turns and dead end paths, Marianne and I found this Blue Hole on Hoffman's Cay.  It's 182 meters deep and full of DARK MATTER.

Coral- you're pretty, but you're bringing me down....

The first time we ran aground seemed like a rite of passage and was somewhat comical.  The second time was anything but.  As we made our way from Great Harbour Cay to Hoffman's key, we admired how clear the water was.  Even though there was thirty feet below us, we could see the ocean floor.  It was beautiful and eerie at the same time. We alternated between looking out over the bow and checking the gps for dangerous rocks that lay ahead.  Matt and I took a moment to look at the chart and decipher where to anchor when CRUNCH! Our depth went from 30 feet to 3 in a mere moment.  Our boat elevated out of the water and we felt like we were on a ride at Disneyland.  We realized we had hit our keel on a massive coral head, and immediately knew that this would cause considerably more damage than the last grounding, to us and the coral - sorry coral :(  The alarming thing is, if this was the Coral that we were navigating around on the gps, it was three or four hundred feet from where it was supposed to be.  An alarming notion when we rely on gps for a huge part of our navigation. Fine Berry Islands, visual piloting it is.  Although we aren't taking on water and our keel hasn't fallen off yet (knock on wood) the repairs for next season are going to be more extensive than we had hoped. Bring on the epoxy.

Sailboat or Submarine?

Our first stop in the Berry Islands landed us in Great Harbour Cay.  Right smack dab in the middle of some pretty major election hype.   In fact, we arrived on the same day that the Prime Minister of the Bahamas did  (although we didn't manage to seem him because he flew in and out for a mere five minute photo op.) Despite my best efforts, I managed to get very little information about the three main political parties.  No one seemed particularly interested in discussing their political viewpoints, even though everywhere you looked there were flags on cars and people donning their respective party colours and slogans.  Just as well I suppose, I can barely keep up with Canadian politics.  We could sure learn a lot from their voter turnout though- above 95%!  After several parties and a bustling election day, the PLP was declared the victors.  From what I gathered, they are somewhat more left wing than their previous governing party- the FNM.  Truth be told, most people seem to think there isn't a heck of a lot of difference between the two….at least not on the out Islands.  Well PLP, congrats I guess!  We sure enjoyed the activity that the election brought to Great Harbour Cay.  We've been here for four days and we already feel a sense of community.  The people here have been so welcoming and we've never had so many offers for rides (into town or to the beach) as we've walked down the side of the road.  Thanks to the incredible and interesting people we met who made this one a stop to remember.  Best dance parties EVER.

With the Abacos in our wake, we've been putting some miles on our boat, slowly making our way westward towards the Berry islands.  The wind died out yesterday, and we found ourselves in an absolutely flat calm ocean 20 miles from land. Marianne jumped in our dinghy and sang one of her hardcore ukelele numbers.  Nothing like a little music video project to pass the doldrums.

Umbrellas, helping drunk people stand since the 18th century.

Abacos!  It's been a blast!  Thank you for your beautiful beaches and for being our enormous bathtub.  Thank you also to the amazing people we have met who have helped us immensely.  Your advice has saved our hides and made life just that much more fun.  We will miss you until we meet again.  Next stop, Berry islands!  AHOY!

Oh, you know.....just tryin' to do my part.

Chance to teach!

The last time I taught a yoga class in Vancouver was in January and I'd been feeling pretty rusty.  I started to stress about jumping back on the wild yoga steed once we returned from our hiatus.  It's been tough to find a peaceful and flat spot to practice yoga in the Bahamas and finding a class was not even an option....or so I thought!  Low and behold, on the second floor of the W.M. H Building in Marsh Harbour is a gem of a place called Satori Health Strategies.  I was so excited to take Patricia French's fabulous class, and was even more stoked to have the opportunity to teach one.  Thank you, thank you, thank you Tricia, for your incredible classes and your energy, and for the opportunity to get back up in front of a class.  If I ever find myself back in Marsh, your studio will be the first stop I make.

Cut those costs!

 How to live on the cheap when you're on a boat:

• Drink salt water.  Just kidding- don't do it! 
• Drink rum- for serious this time.  Alcohol is cheaper than pop (or soda for you Americans.)
• Anchor! Anchor! Anchor!  Free rent!  Avoid marinas unless you are blogging or in desperate need of shelter from a storm.  (If possible anchor next to a marina with wi-fi and try to guess their passwords.  Hint- it's usually "sunshine." HAHAHA.)
• Avoid restaurants.  Dive for conch, lobster, fish and try to make the provisions last.  The Bahamas are not the best place to dine out on a budget.
• Make friends!  This community is amazing- people are quick to lend a missing tool or an ice cube (or a cooler- thanks Rick!)
• Sail vs motor.  Use the wind- that's why you're on a sailboat silly!  The last time we filled our diesel tank was a month ago. 
• Don't buy crap! a.) you don't need it.  b.) you have NOWHERE to put it on your boat.
• Stay away from gambling at Bahamian cock fights.
  
• Go to bed when it gets dark and get up when it's light.  That way you save your batteries by not running your lights all night.  Boy, our ancestors sure were on to something!
• Do your laundry in a bucket, but don't use too much water!  Now you're getting it!
• Don't have mimosas for brunch every day. Once in a while it's awesome- thanks Lynn!
• Cut your own hair with scissors.  Why not?  You shower in the ocean and are dirty hippies anyway.  Amen.

Ramen - what to eat when the money's all gone.

Can you believe they trust us???? Me neither!!!

Matt and I have extended invites to a ton of friends and family to come and visit us on our little sloop.  All respectfully declined due to work, money or I suspect the biggest reason - the fact that they weren't too sure about our ability to sail.  We totally understand!  I wouldn't trust us either - we came down four months ago to take sailing lessons for christ's sake!

There is an exception though.  Lynn and Gary - two brave souls who also happen to be Matthew's parents - decided that they would take the plunge and come aboard the crazy train (Maranatha).  Hahahaha, fools!!!!  (Just kidding)

We picked them up in Marsh Harbour and have been cruising them around Guana Cay, Treasure Cay and next - to Green Turtle Cay.  They have been mighty good sports about our less than 5 star accommodations and it turns out they are pretty salty dogs themselves.  Yay Lynn and Gary!

How are we all coping with living in basically one bedroom with berths and no doors, you might ask?  Well, so far no one has been pushed over board........... so far.  We'll keep you posted ;)

Squall II

With our last severe weather experience 10 days in our wake, we had a somewhat restored confidence in mother nature.  That all changed last week as we were sitting quietly in Great Guana Key, on a mooring ball, watching some "Breaking Bad" on the laptop.  There were some dark clouds on the horizon but it was certainly nothing to panic about.  We were, after all, tethered to a mooring ball.  Just a nice lazy afternoon.....THEN BAM!  Out of nowhere, a wall of rain and wind hit us.  We heeled over violently.  It felt serious.  Marianne looked out and saw a sailboat coming in to the harbour, just off our bow.  It was out of control and hit a boat just next to ours and then ran aground. I jumped out to the cockpit and tried to get our engine started but was virtually blinded by the wind and the rain.  I grabbed a snorkel mask and kept struggling to start the motor.  At that point the rails were almost in the water.  The cockpit bimini was shaking and about to rip to shreds.  I looked over to our left and saw a trawler get caught up in a neighboring sailboat.  Now at this point it appeared our mooring was holding. We were going to pull through, maybe?  But then.....crack! We looked up, the mooring ball was nowhere in sight.  Seems we'd sailed up over it, on our bare poles, and our rudder was slamming down on the cement block used to secure the mooring line.  I hit reverse, full power.  Back in position, nose to the wind where we rode out the remainder of the squall.

Things finally died down and the sun came out.  Peace was restored.  The whole event lasted only 15 minutes.  15 minutes of pure chaos.  We almost fell over the next morning when we heard the winds were clocked at 74 miles/hr.  All things considered, I think we were pretty lucky.  Of the 6 boats in the harbor: 2 had their dinghies flipped over (outboard engines and all), 2 collided with other boats, 1 ran aground.....and us, relatively unscathed with only a slight chip out of our rudder.  Remarkably, there was little to no damage to the other boats.

Afterwards, a local guy and his daughter came by in a small boat to help out.  He looked at us with a big smile and said, "Having fun yet?"  Funny thing is, to the locals, this kind of weather is not out of the ordinary.  I think we're going to need to live through a few more squalls before we can adopt that kind of confidence :)

A neighbouring catamaran captured this video footage of the squall.  You can see Maranatha in the beginning of the clip, on the left side of the frame.  WHEEEE!!!!

Hope Town Lighthouse

If you look at someone's photos from the Bahamas, you will likely see a picture of a candy striped lighthouse.  This iconic lighthouse has been saving sailors lives for over a hundred years and has been lit every night at sunset by the lighthouse keeper for just as long.  After so many have been switched to automated systems, it is a rare gem to find one still functioning on kerosene.  It is an even rarer gem to be invited up by the lighthouse keeper to witness his daily duty.  We couldn't believe our luck when we met "Sam" the local lighthouse keeper.  Sam's father had been in charge of running the lighthouse for many years, and now it was Sam's turn to take on this important role.  When we asked Sam how he would feel if he had a son who wanted to follow in his footsteps, he said that would make him very happy.  Cool.  

We arranged to meet with him at 7:30 - just before sunset.  We stood at the bottom of the lighthouse, nervous that we had gotten the time wrong and had missed him, when a head popped out of a little window about half way up and shouted "ten minutes!"

Exactly ten minutes later the old wooden door creaked open and Sam led us into the tower.  Immediately the smell of kerosene filled our nostrils.  We started to climb the 101 steps up to the top.  Along the way, Sam explained to us how when the lighthouse was initially proposed in the 1860's, there was a lot of resistance from the locals because they made their living from wrecking.  After much argument, the safety of the sailors was deemed a priority and the lighthouse was built.  As we neared the top, we went outside through a tiny door to catch a breathtaking view of the sunset.  It was equally exhilarating and terrifying to be up so high, especially with the 20 knot breeze.  After a few minutes, it was almost time to light the lamp so Gary, Lynn, Marianne and I crawled back inside through the little door.  Sam showed us the massive metal housing that encircled the lamp.  The 18 ton lense housing rotates atop a thin layer of mercury, driven by a system of hand cranked weights.  Sam has to re-crank the system every 2 hours until sunrise.

The time had come to light it up.  Sam struck a match and in an instant the 325,000 candle power light shone 17 miles out to sea.

We started back down the 101 steps, thanked our new friend and were struck by the ironic realization that none of us had remembered to bring a flashlight to guide us back through the woods to our boat. 

We've been living without internet for the past few days.....so belated Happy Easter!  Matt and I stumbled upon an Easter egg hunt on the beach.  Matt said, "it's only for kids".......I said, "you won't be getting any of my eggs!!!!"

Poisonwood: DO NOT TOUCH!

Matt and the Wook and I were traipsing through the woods the other day in search of a beach, when we passed another traveller. We said hello, exchanged niceties and continued walking in opposite directions when she casually added over her shoulder "watch out for poisonwood". "Thanks" I yelled back, eager to get on my way.  What I should have done was grab her by the arm, look her in the eye and demand some answers.  "Wait, what???" what's poison wood? What does it look like? Where do you find it? (and perhaps most important,) what does it do to you? I mean, there's wood everywhere, how do I know which wood is the poison?

Instead, we spent the rest of our hike nervously avoiding branches and wondering to ourselves if the leaves we just brushed against would later cause havoc to our epidermis. To save you folks the confusion- here it is.......POISON WOOD.

Apparently touching it can cause you some pretty nasty and painful blisters. So do yourselves a favor, next time you go to hug a tree, make sure it isn't this one, aiiight?

There comes a time in every sailors life (or so we've been told) that one must run aground.  For us, that time was this morning.

To run aground is just how it sounds- you simply get stuck on the ocean floor when there is not enough water (or no water) between your keel, your rudder and the bottom.  We draw only 3"11, which is probably why we've managed to avoid it for this long, but alas, every dog has it's day.

We were looking for boat storage for when we come back to work during hurricane season.  We found a potential spot and were sailing past the dock to show the owners our boat to see if they could accommodate us.  Matt was trying to talk to the fellow on the dock and I was trying to steer the boat a little closer so they could have a decent conversation. A little too close, in hindsight.  All of a sudden I lost the ability to steer, and came to an abrupt halt.  Both our keel and our rudder were lodged in the mud. We looked at each other and realized simultaneously that it was a falling tide and over the next five hours things could only get worse.

We would still be there now, if it weren't for the help of two good samaritans and their dinghy (with a motor bigger than our boat's). They pushed on our bow and managed to help us on our way. Ahhhh, I LOVE people!

Sailing With Skipper Marianne : Episode 1

Nature: pretty badass

It was a nice sunny afternoon, until this beast showed up.  We thought the apocalypse had arrived.

We were like kids in a candy store during our first major storm (anchored at Allans-Pensacola). In retrospect it was rad, but during the peak of the storm we were pretty sure that getting struck by lightning was a very real problem. Seeing a neighboring boat start dragging anchor and heading into the rocks did little to calm our nerves. Matt and I stared at the vessel and wondered aloud what we could possibly do to help, with a dinghy with no motor and a boat of our own to look after.  We listened to channel 16 and felt helpless until we finally saw a light appear on the bow of our neighbor as they re-set their anchor amidst the squall.  Our anchors appeared to be holding so we unplugged our gps and electronics and counted the seconds between the thunder and lightning to convince ourselves that it wasn't as close as it seemed.  We calculated about 3000 lightning flashes that evening and later heard reports of 50 knot winds. How that much lightning missed all 4 big metal poles in the sky at our anchorage is beyond me.  Matt and I didn't sleep much that night, unlike Wookie who slept soundly during the entire storm and wasn't bothered a bit.  What a salty dog.