Las Olas Riverfront to Ft. Pierce March 6 - 12, 2015

Rain was forecast this Friday as we departed Las Olas Riverfront, but we managed to avoid the pop-up showers on our way north. Our destination was Old Port Cove, North Palm Beach, but we knew the distance was more than a day's drive. So we set anchor late afternoon near Lantana, FL, and I set up the SaSea Sally Salon on the swim platform to give Clay a haircut (must have been power of suggestion). Brandy, I'm getting pretty good...err, better. En route to this anchorage, Captain Clay received a radio call from LAMO friend Ryan Bradley, but the reception was garbled and unreadable. Still fun to have connected. Another pop of joy!

We departed Lantana anchorage mid-morning Saturday with an easy anchor pull after Nordic tracking and breakfast. We arrived Old Port Cove, an easy three-hour day, accompanied by wind and spritzing rain much of the way. Uh-oh, another windy docking, but Clay has gained confidence in his ability to handle this 20-ton trawler, and I've gained confidence in him.  Done deal docking.

Unfortunately, after having completed all necessary paperwork for an Enterprise rep to deliver our rental car by noon (their closing time) today, it was not to be. No car for our Saturday land exploration which took us to Plan B (there's always a Plan B even if you don't know what it is yet). We were thankful for a knowledgeable staff at OPC who enabled a Sunday rental car to attend the Cards Spring Training game in Jupiter.

We busied ourselves with Saturday chores; I walked to Elegance for a chat with hairdresser Cheryl, a new best friend forever; then Clay and I revisited Sandpiper's Cove for dinner. All in all, a nice day despite the bumps in the road.

And, so on Sunday...Got late-morning rental car (another glitch where the Enterprise computer screen failed to show 'pick-up needed'), ate lunch at Panera on way to the Cards game vs the Marlins where we purchased the only available tickets for standing-room-only and saw a Cards win! 

Clay had the foresight to purchase tickets in advance (berm seating) for Thursday's game, but the sold-out status for Monday's game against Boston prevented that anticipated purchase. Not to be deterred from attending, we requested options for Monday, but we were warned that, against Boston, the tickets would be costly, scarce, and we'd fight for even an inch of space in SRO. That made my decision...not. (Clay would come to his senses and follow suit the following morning.) He has yet to catch grief from his Westminster buddies for not attending but only because they don't know he missed the game.

Leaving Roger Dean Stadium, we tackled an hour's drive to Ft. Lauderdale to retrieve an Amazon Prime package delivered to Clay at Woody's which didn't quite accommodate the two-day shipping service. We made an event of the trip by taking Woody and Mary Ellen to Landlubber's, a family-friendly, family-favorite sports bar nearby, for dinner. An hour-plus return trip to the boat left us having accomplished a full day of activity.

We had another day's car rental but no place in particular to go, having aborted our game plans for Monday. Thus, we worked around the boat far longer than was wise, given the fact we had a car at our disposal; it is amazing that, having adjusted to having no car, we don't know what to do with one when we do have it. A late-day Wal-Mart run put us in crunch mode for arriving on time for our Bonefish Grill dinner reservation. A quick stash of grocery items, an even quicker hair combing (oh my how my approach has changed for going out to dinner!), and off we went for a nice dinner at the nearby restaurant (well, nearby is relative...a 25-minute walk, but a 5-minute car ride).

Housekeeping chores filled our Tuesday morning prior to departure from Old Port Cove toward Ft. Pierce (do you get the idea we're on the move a lot?). I completed some paperwork while Clay washed the deck, filled the water tanks and requested a staff-provided pump out (what a luxury not to have to do it ourselves!) which was provided while we returned the rental car. A late 3:15 p.m. departure landed us at Peck Lake anchorage well after all of the other boaters had set anchor in this popular and very crowded spot in the waterway south of Stuart. We set anchor at 6:25 p.m. only to hear a bossy British sailor reprimand us for locating over his anchor/chain. Good friend Dave Johnson's comment upon hearing of our hasty relocation, "That is a bit cheeky of the old boy." Love you, Dave!

Wednesday brought an easy anchor pull after tracking and breakfast among the thinning crowd of anchored boaters accommodating a comparable routine (though I doubt too many of them have a Nordic Track skiier aboard). Pop-up storms accompanied us during most of the three-hour cruise to Ft. Pierce City Marina. Docking was tricky with fierce winds blowing and construction barges blocking our pathway. As the dockhand caught our lines, he elaborated on the damage caused by Hurricane Frances and on the current construction progress.

A friendly hello to Jan and Barb Moore as they arrived later afternoon, Clay and I greeted our dear friends as the skies cleared for fly bridge conversation and dinner at the Tiki Bar on premises which was convenient and quite good.

March 6 - 12, 2015

Game day Thursday, I awakened at 4 a.m. with a piercing headache which two Tylenol failed to combat. Two hours and two more Tylenol later, I knew I was in trouble when nausea kicked in. I forged onward with my morning stretch-and-flex routine (that's the J Robert in me) and then accompanied Clay on an attempt at a morning walk. I returned to the boat while Clay transacted the car rental, but my wayward footsteps on the new cement floating docks (which are a huge draw for local birds) had me unknowingly tracking bird poop into the boat. Two strikes already, and I'm not even at the game yet.

A bit of breakfast helped temper both my headache and nausea, so...game on. Clay and I packed for the Cards game, donned red tee shirts, hats and plenty of sunscreen, and struck out for Jupiter which was deemed to be an hour's drive from our current location. As we took the exit for Jupiter, strike three on Sally...I remembered the game tickets I'd forgotten, still on the boat and tucked for safekeeping from wind, weather and Clay's casual ways. That sent me into a tailspin with calming words from Clay, "Either they'll let us in, or they won't."

Knowing I would not eat a lot of lunch, Clay nonetheless chose to treat me to a Panera lunch. As we lunched, I remembered a text sent to sister Sus the previous Sunday, "thankful for berm seats for Thursday's game." Now I was thankful for some form of proof (my attorney father, "You always gotta be thinking!"). On to the game, I swore I'd sit in the car rather than to have to pay twice; Clay agreed. My sincerity at the ticket window, coupled with the fact that there are still good people in the world, enabled our entry to the game with two replacement tickets which the ticket lady provided in less than a heartbeat (this scenario must have played out before). 

Cards WON! Berm seating was delightful! The warm sunshine was delightful! And the diminishing migraine took a backseat to the ambiance of the ballpark. Post game, we detoured for a bit of JCPenney shopping in Stuart, followed by a delightful dinner at Clay's favorite Florida restaurant La Forchetta. Despite the early evening downpour in which I drove, all was well that ended well. And, ended well the day did. As bad as was the start, the only way was up! Delightful!

As we close and lock the port, starboard and stern doors for the night, late as it is (especially for ole Sal gal), I bid you a fond farewell. P.S. It's well past Loopers' midnight (9 p.m.)

North Palm Beach to Las Olas Riverfront, February 27 - March 3, 2015 ,

February 27 - March 3, 2015

Thursday's fierce winds ushered in Friday's storms at Old Port Cove. Clay and I planned the day accordingly. OPC is one of only a handful of marinas with an exercise room where I spent a bit of the morning on the elliptical, chatting with Nicole (Joy), a Canadian boater on her way to the Bahamas. Later morning, I summoned the courage to attempt a highlight and cut at nearby Elegance Salon. I highly recommend Cheryl, but, of course, there's a story here (my luck with hair stylists on the Loop is...well, not exactly legendary...but entertaining). Making comment as I departed the salon that I loved the cut and color but might need the bangs a bit shorter, Cheryl encouraged me to pop back by on our return trip from Ft. Lauderdale, and she'd tweak them should I desire her to do so.

By late afternoon, returning from Publix in the spritz (I'd abandoned the umbrella in favor of more grocery-toting ability), I stopped back by Elegance, knowing that my bangs needed that tweak. Another hairdresser offered to trim the bangs in Cheryl's absence, saying she owed Cheryl a favor. Well, maybe she did Cheryl a favor, but no favor did she do me! As she combed my bang area into a ponytail peak on top in some fashion of a unicorn's horn or rooster's comb, one decided debilitating scissors snip tells it all! "Oh, that's not exactly what I had in mind," I thought. Life's an adventure, right? Without even looking at the results, I'd knew I'd be back to see Cheryl!

I returned to the boat to find our evening guests Del and Portia Richter had already arrived. In the 'real' world, I would have been embarrassed not to be ready to welcome company; but, the boaters' world seems to be defined by maybe a different set of standards so I'm realizing. If errands are necessary and legs are the only means of transportation, then time becomes a variable of a different sort. And, don't forget women and their bad hair days! There's a different definition of 'bad hair' on a boat, but my 'do maxed out the Richter scale!

Thank goodness my return to Elegance was sooner rather than later. As I entered the salon Saturday morning prior to our departure south, Cheryl's look at me said it all; her comment, "I see what you mean," reinforced her look. Enuf about hair...

Saturday late morning brought a marina crew for a pump out followed by our preparation for departure toward Del Ray Marina. Extreme winds heightened my stress level and encouraged Clay to check weather. I breathed a sigh of relief when we aborted our departure with Clay noting red masses dotting the radar screen, further emphasized by the weather radio emitting lightning and 55 mph wind warnings. Clay checked lines and tied additional ones to stabilize and secure us, and we busied ourselves with housekeeping chores while awaiting Howard Greene's early evening arrival for wine, a boat tour and dinner at nearby Sandpiper's Cove. What a treasure we have in this dear friend from home!  I commented to Howard how thrilled Doris would be for him to be aboard, if even for a short time. And, further, how much it meant to me each time Doris told me how proud she was of me for doing this Loop!

Sunday morning's scheduled departure went without a hitch; we motored toward Ft. Lauderdale, putting in a long travel day and anchoring at Lake Santa Barbara as the sun set (a bit late for my liking). During Sunday's run, we fought for position among the mosquitoes (a 'fond' name among Loopers for the little boats) and bigger vessels awaiting bridge timed openings which are numerous along this stretch of the ICW. Clay did a superb job holding his/our own in the traffic; I am continually amazed of the naivety of boaters as to the maneuverability of larger vessels: "We can't turn on a dime" nor "Stop at a moment's notice!"

With leftovers on the menu for Sunday night, Clay and I retired for the night with the boat swinging around the set anchor with wind and current in opposition. It left me wondering 'who' would win. Just prior to lights out, I reminded Clay of our previous anchoring experience where middle-of-the-night toilet flushing didn't bode well for the CO sensors nor for a restful night's sleep. He was oblivious as to what I was referencing. Well, at 2:20 a.m., he was no longer oblivious! Once again, the PROBLEM reared its ugly head. Of course it would; we'd done nothing to remedy the problem, so...duh? A groaning flush was followed by blinking CO lights and alarms. Oh joy! Oh joy! And, another item to add to the ongoing fix-it list.

In anticipation of an early anchor pull, I hurried through my daily exercise routine and Nordic Tracking only to find the captain deeply absorbed in trouble-shooting Sunday night's problem. Keeping my mouth shut (not always an easy assignment for me), I mentally questioned the logic of Clay's trouble-shooting while afloat (well, we'll hopefully ALWAYS be afloat) in the middle of a body of water rather than in port where emergency help would be more readily available. He soon realized the problem was out of the realm of fixing at sea, so we transacted an easy anchor pull and motored up the New River to our next docking station for a few days, Las Olas Riverfront Marina (City), where the dockmaster assigned a face dock position on the prison side of the river, not on the Las Olas Boulevard side. Really? Not to worry...only a short bridge crossing away! I guess we were paying the same per foot price for the 'low rent district.' While Clay checked resources for available electricians, I hoofed it around the block, passing the city jail, the courthouse and a Publix to acquaint myself with the area. A shower, glass of wine, then cross-the-bridge trek to Cheesecake Factory for dinner completed our Monday. I'm continually amazed that Clay is so very well acquainted with all of these various areas of Florida; he knew there was a Cheesecake Factory close by as well as a restaurant called City Tavern where we'd met a John's-college-friend-turned-FLL-Aetna-Rep for a glass of wine multi years ago.

Tuesday was a mostly-wasted day, awaiting the 8:30  a.m. electrician who arrived at 1 p.m. to install a new 180# port battery to remedy our toilet-flush-CO-sensor-alarm problem. See how I spend money on Las Olas Blvd? Once the task was completed, we bid adieu to SaSea Sally, left her in the semi-secured(?) harbor of the Nu River Landing condo complex, and made way toward 9240 with Woody and Mary Ellen for a few days of hospitality in his home.

As we land-cruise toward Plantation, I again bid you a fond farewell until our aqua adventure resumes.

La Belle to North Palm Beach, FL February 22 - 26, 2015

February 22 - 26, 2015

As we cruised down the Caloosahatchee River this Sunday afternoon, I was thankful that Clay was proactive in securing in advance the only available space along River's Edge Motel face dock. Further thankful that liveaboard Cliff readily popped out of his boat to catch our lines, I heaved springlines, bow and stern lines in his direction with an accurate right sidearm throw. Fire one, fire two, fire three and four in order; I'm fearful one day a dock hand will be caught unaware as to the force behind and accuracy of my throws, and thus I have to remind myself to be gentle. Seriously!

Cliff was quick to secure our lines and then to inform us of the Swamp Cabbage Festival across the bridge toward town. "The LaBelle Swamp Cabbage Festival is held every year on the last full weekend in February in LaBelle at Barron Park. It is a local celebration (parade, queen, music, food, entertainment) to honor the official state tree, the sabal (cabbage) palm, by eating it. The heart of the cabbage palm is prepared into swamp cabbage or fritters (each a southern Florida Cracker vegetable delicacy) and the focus of the celebration.  Immediately following the Saturday morning parade, all crowd into the park and sample the southern "swamp" cuisines and listen to live music at the main stage in the park. The festival usually features around a 100 booths vending crafts and foods.  Typically there are armadillo races and a rodeo."

Clay and I checked in then hustled over the bridge to experience our first-ever Swamp Cabbage Festival. Our gregarious Rivers Edge innkeeper wasn't too encouraging of the quality of the festival's foodstuffs (including the swamp cabbage), so we declined purchase of various edibles at the park, but we had fun perusing the vendor offerings. We returned to the boat where I began dinner prep but was interrupted by a loud cackling noise outside the port door. Opening the door to the noise, I found a group of gals posing on the dock with our boat as backdrop, pretending the SaSea Sally was their boat. Female companionship...I quickly made friends with these gals who were gathered for a reunion. This was not to be our last encounter with the feisty group of Michigan gals.

We departed La Belle mid-morning on Monday, receiving hearty waves from the gals gathered on the motel deck. Having been advised that they were pontoon cruising the Lake this very afternoon, we were told to look for them. Which we did. As SaSea Sally entered the canal entrance to Rowan Martin's Marina in Clewiston, on the south boundary of the Lake, I happened to hear a rousing chorus of "SaSea Sally! SaSea Sally!" and looked behind to see the pontoon cruise past the canal opening with our reunion gals again waving frantically! It was as much fun for me as for them.

With the boat firmly tied to the face dock of Rowan Martin's by Captain Sam, Clay and I opted to explore the marina grounds. The ship's store was well worth exploring we had been told; the inside dining (snack bar format) and outside dining (called Scotty's Tiki Bar and reminiscent of Alabama Jack's open air Keysie ambiance) were serviced by the same kitchen using the same menu and drew nightly crowds, sometimes featuring live music; heated swimming pool was a disappointment with barely a 30' length (but there were two of them--wish they'd been conjoined!). All in all, I was expecting the Ritz and got Bobby's Fish Camp!

Returning to the boat for a shower, I 'surfaced' as a new woman only to find that our reunion group of gals was wining and dining at Scotty's Tiki Bar. Up I went to join them, leaving Captain Clay in charge of the boat. What fun I had sharing a bit of gaiety and laughter with the gals. They were receptive to a few boat stories and inquisitive as to what it's like living on a boat. Boy did I give them an earful! Not to be left out of the action, Clay appeared a bit later to meet and greet.

Clay and I later dined at Scotty's and marveled at the late night boat arrivals backing down the narrow fairway to ease into a space for the night. Captain Sam did not stack these boats in the way we would have done so. Glad for his approach of front to back rather than back to front, we had obtained a prime location with our early arrival.

Tuesday morning Clay opted to take on fuel then to depart, taking the rim route around Lake Okeechobee rather than through the middle of the Lake. My, but that boy is inquisitive; he doesn't want to miss a thing! Of only note was a swing bridge hand-cranked by the bridge tender. And, of course, more ash descended upon us. Boat-washing duties on the horizon (for the Captain; this is one arena I've avoided)!

Completing the rim and entering the St. Lucie Canal, we knew we were in a pickle when the Indiantown Marina harbormaster denied us overnight docking. Where to 'stay' overnight? Clay: No worries; we'll find a place. Sal: Worried (or shall we say 'somewhat concerned'...there's a new Sally emerging); the narrow canal offered little in the way of anchorages and precious few docking opportunities. We forged ahead, knowing the last lock closed at 7 p.m., to open again at 7 a.m. We forged ahead knowing that we didn't know where we were gonna stay. 

As our companion-traveler boat "Irish Miss" entered the last lock on the St. Lucie Canal at 6:50 p.m.(sunset at 6:25 p.m.), Clay did not follow. What the ? Instead, Clay selected the Port Lucie Lock Park's 15' finger docks (mind you, that's 1/3 the length of our boat and crossways to current, etc.) and said, as darkness descended, "We'll dock here." Right-O. Or is that Right-Oh? Or Right-Zero? A charitable-minded fisherman named George offered to help us. Poor George! None of the three of us knew what the heck we were doing...15' fingers? Seriously? But we got 'er done. George went on his merry (and very thankful) way; and Clay and I took nips-and-tucks to make sure the boat wouldn't go anywhere overnight; it was a total guessing game which we hoped, come morning, we'd win!

Morning dawned much brighter in that we could see the fruits of our late-evening labor. (I say 'fruits' but it was really mosquitoes/bugs and sweat by the time we docked last evening! Lends new meaning to "Stand By Your Man"!!!!) Clay and I circled through the Port Lucie Lock Park and to the terrain beyond for our morning walk. Then Clay announced, "My favorite restaurant is just around the corner." Really? I tho't we were in the middle of nowhere; and, after 36 years of marriage, a favorite restaurant in FL? (I DID know we were in FL.)

Back to the boat, Clay and I each completed some housekeeping chores. At 11 a.m., we reversed engines and backed out of the 15' finger dock. But I was ill-prepared for the immediacy of the lock ahead. We managed. As our friend Steve says of a good vs bad docking, "No one was hurt; it was a good docking." Likewise, locking! We retraced our route to Sunset Bay Marina, Stuart, where Clay met with friend Joe Apicella while, at the same time, giving me some 'me' time (the most of which was spent doing laundry). Following Joe's departure, we dressed for dinner and dined fashionably (what is fashionable dining?) on Italian cuisine at Casa Bella. We love this little 'intimate' restaurant and recommend it to anyone passing through Stuart!

We departed Sunset Bay Marina Thursday morning in fierce winds which accompanied us throught the day as we traveled toward Old Port Cove in North Palm Beach. My radio message to OPC as we neared their harbor entrance was, "Maybe you could assign us a face dock where we could just hang out until the winds temper a bit." OPC's Susie was most encouraging that the dock hands would be at slip 128 to assist. Clay expertly maneuvered SaSea Sally into the fairway while I readied the lines and fenders. Team Logan at it again; we've had lotsa practice! Job well done as Captain Clay eased the trawler into the slip, and the dock hands caught the lines. Don't know that I've ever seen lines secured so quickly as by these OPC fellas. I breathed a sigh of relief and a sincere prayer of thanks to God. Mother Nature can be a formidable opponent!

As we settle into routine at OPC for a few days, I bid you a fond farewell and begin typing the experiences of the next segment of our journey; I'm a bit behind.