Thursday, 30 July - What a beautiful day to run from a storm! Isaias is behind me two or three days, but today was 11 to 15 knot winds off the starboard beam with partly cloudy skies and 1 to 2 foot waves. The only thing that could have made the day better would have been if Susie had come along and if I had cleaned the hull of the boat more recently - but whose fault is that - mine. The boat mas moving pretty slow, so I used the engine to boost my speed a bit. I didn't see much wildlife on the way, but as I approached the mouth of Little Shark River a large pod came to greet me and stayed with me for about a mile. I entered the river right at 6:00 pm, which happened to be low tide this evening according to the table I have. I had thought about taking the sails off the curlers, but with the weathermen saying the storm is probably going a little further east than they originally said, I thought I'd head on up the river aways and see how far I could get at low tide before running aground. I ran aground twice, both times were my fault. The first time, I cut a corner at the convergence of two streams. I backed off of that one. The second, I just got distracted for a few moments and got too close to another island as the channel I was on opened up to a large open space. I tried to back up, but couldn't get the boat off, so I tried forward at higher rpm's. That moved the boat about ten feet forward, but the momentum I had put me harder aground again. I decided I was going to be there for several hours when I looked over the side and saw that the water flow was still headed toward the Gulf, apparently still going out. That meant I'd have to wait for the low tide to get lower and then come back in again, probably about 4 hours or more. There is a 4 to 5 foot tide, so surely that would lift me off. I started to have dinner, but saw that the sun was about to set, so I went into the cockpit to get the camera. Lo and behold, the boat was rotating and quickly broke free. I started the engine and moved to deeper water ahead. I still don't know how a receding tide could lift me off, but I'll take it. Now I'm anchored for the night in about ten feet of water in the middle of the large open space, vulnerable to lightning and strong winds, but maybe I'll get lucky one more time. My VHF radio is receiving the Coast Guard reports of sinking vessels, bridge closures on the east coast, and other miscellaneous tragedies and receiving NOAA weather reports, but NOAA isn't mentioning the storm except briefly and in general. I had hoped to get here early enough to get anchored early enough to listen on the SSB - Single Sideband radio - for the 5 PM program, but I was way too late. Maybe I can catch the 8:30AM program in the morning.
                    Oh! I almost forgot. Shark River, here in the Everglades in renowned for its hoards of mosqitos. I made screens for the companionways and Rick and Gay George, Island Time's previous owners had made screens for all the hatches just for that purpose. I even bought 3 extra cans of mosquito repellent with DEET for this trip. I entered the river with no shirt on, shorts, and sandals and assumed that I'b be swarmed by them, at least at dusk. Guess what, I haven't heard, seen, or felt even one. Amazing - and I probably just jinxed myself for the rest of the trip. (I did install the screens this evening just in case.) Maybe being in this big clearing between the mangrove islands where the closest island is at least 200 yards away helps, but I thought I'd be eaten alive as I motored up river just before sunset.
                    As I started to go to bed I realized that the masthead anchor light was not on. It is usually turned on by a photoelectric switch at dusk, but I see that is broken. I have three solar garden lights on deck but they won't last all night and I'm sure there will be early rising fishermen buzzing by in the wee morning hours. Tonight I'm announcing my presence with an old fashion oil lamp, hung above the deck on a shroud, that is onboard for just such emergencies. It's a beautiful, moonlit, calm, clear night out with NO mosquitos. Yay!

Friday, 31 July - Well, today has been interesting to say the least. I woke up at 6:15 to listen to the weather reports from Lee Cowan on Tropical Tidbits (weather commentary) on the SSB, but couldn't find or hear him at all. I was able to tune in the 8:30 program and got on and checked in with my location, but could hear very little of what was being said by anyone other than the net controller. I was surprised to see that one of my solar yard lights was still lighted and even more surprised to see how little oil the little brass oil lamp had consumed. This is my first experience using it. The boat was well afloat this morning so I removed the dinghy from the davits, remounted the outboard motor and I headed up river with plenty of water until I tried to enter the oxbow that I had intended to anchor in. I ran aground right at the mouth of that channel. I might have boon able to squeeze in right along the outer bank but would have been unable to back up or turn around if I entered and couldn't make it. I had approached very carefully and slowly, so where I did run aground, I was able to back off easily. Opposite that entrance was another channel that didn't look as good, and I hadn't explored it in the dinghy previously, but it looked, at least on the chart, like it might be a viable substitute, and I wouldn't have to go far to find out. I was very surprised to see that it was 12 feet deep from one side to the other and had just enough bends in it to make any fetch around me very short. Fetch is the distance that wind can blow across the water in a straight line. This spot has a huge eddy along the south side and there was room to turn the boat around after I didn't get the anchor in exactly the spot I wanted it the first time. I came around and dropped the anchor right near the top of the eddy and hoped to back up to set the anchor. Since I was close to the embankment and with the eddy current getting strong enough to keep me from backing up, I should have gone around again, reversed the alignment of the boat and anchored again, but that's easy to see in hindsight. I got distracted when I raised the anchor to reset it the first time and the new "anchor flipper", an "L" shaped piece that rotates the anchor into the proper alignment when it comes over the bow roller, had gotten its shackle twisted and was fouled. I had to drop it three times before it untangled itself...and thank goodness it finally did. Now I'm paying the price for not reversing the boat. The eddy current got stronger as the tide went out while I was taking a stern anchor out, tying the after quarter to shore and taking the second bow anchor out away from shore. In the process, the stern got pushed toward shore and the stern anchor, a Danforth, dragged. That's a big disappointment. I tried to drag the stern away from shore with the dinghy while trying to set a port stern quarter anchor out away from shore, but it wouldn't budge. I came aboard, turned on the depth finder and discovered why the boat wouldn't move. I'm hard aground at the embankment in 5 and a half feet of water and it's two hours until low tide. At least I'm sitting vertical and since I'm stuck, I can't be pushed into the mangroves. I hope it stays that way. It should come off when the tide comes back in around 11 or 12 tonight. Maybe I can pull it to deeper water then.
                    I haven't worked this hard in a long time, nor have I sweated this much. My shirt was totally soaked and I've been drinking water by the quart and peeing by the ounce. I'm beat and needed a rest. I tried to listen to the Doo Dah net at 5 pm on the SSB, but, although I could tell someone was talking, I couldn't understand anything they said over the static. I had hoped for better reception since I had a new antenna installed recently and am now away from the interference caused by all the boat masts in the harbor. On the other hand, I'm getting good reception from the Coast Guard and NOAA on the VHF.
                    Still, virtually no mosquitos. The only time they bothered me during the day was when I had to enter the mangroves to tie off the stern. However, this evening, especially since my boat is right next to the mangroves, in fact, perhaps less than 6 inches away, there are definitely mosquitos out, but not what I had expected from other boater's comments. Perhaps I've gotten lucky this trip, or maybe we have different definitions of "hoards".
                    It's going to be very late before my boat floats again. It is now after eight o'clock and the tide is still going out. I had hoped to pull the boat out away from the mangroves tonight at slack tide, but since I'm aground, that's not going to happen. I think when it floats, the current in this eddy will naturally move it away from shore late tonight, then, maybe in the morning I can get the last anchor out and adjust the lines to set me more parallel to the current.
                    I've listened to the weather reports on the radio this evening and there's no mention of any tropical storm winds on the west side of Florida. I hope that doesn't change. I haven't pulled the sails down, but unless Isaias or what ever they are calling it, crosses oven the mainland, I think I am pretty darned well protected here. The longest fetch is to my west and that appears to only be about 3 or 4 hundred yards and the mangroves are almost as tall as my mast.
                    I know I'm off the beaten path, but I thought I'd see more fishermen here in the park. Not but one small boat came past me today and it only had two people in it.

Saturday, 1 August - I woke up this morning at 1 AM and checked on the aft anchor line. I could see that the boat was, once again, afloat. I tested the tension on the anchor line and it was still pretty tight. It was sprinkling so I closed up the windows on the dodger, then decided I'd better try harder to pull the stern around a bit with the stern anchor. I managed, by pulling in about 6 inches to a foot at a time, to pull the stern out about 10 feet from the mangroves and shore. Much better. I checked the depth sounder and I had moved into ten and a half feet of water. Now, assuming that the Danforth anchor at the stern holds, I should be alright until morning when I can get another anchor out in the stream off the port quarter to pull the stern of the boat into alignment with the flow of the water.
                    All was well when I got up this morning about 7:30 and by 10 o'clock, I had made the decision to substitute a five pound Danforth for the 66 pound Bruce anchor that I had intended to put off the port quarter. My brother, Mike, touts this anchor highly, saying that during a storm while he was on the boat with my parents, of three anchors that were deployed, in the morning, the little Danforth was the one holding the boat. I was afraid that if I put that 66 pound Bruce down, I might never see it again, meaning I might not be able to pull it up again. Now the question is, will the little Danforth hold this big boat. If I can adjust the boat's alignment properly, it has a good chance, but there's a lot more drag on the hull when the current is pushing against the squared off stern than on the hydrodynamic bow. By 11:00, I had the Danforth in the water and had pulled the stern around quite a bit more. It helped to pull the bow toward shore a bit more, too.
                    I sat down to relax and cool down bit afterward, but one of my fans wouldn't start up, so I had to disassemble and lubricate it.

Sunday, 2 August - This morning I adjusted and readjusted the lines to shore and the anchor lines to get the boat better aligned with the current. That's not easy to do and is a compromise at best, since the current changes direction 4 times a day. In between adjustments, I tried tuning in to several of the SSB cruiser's and weather nets. I was able to check in with a couple of the nets, but I'm still having trouble hearing most of the participants over all the static. At about $2400, I'm beginning to believe this is a VERY expensive AM radio and toy. Several AM radio stations come in loud and clear, but I'm not interested in baseball, hockey, football, politics, or advertisements. Even the net controllers on the SSB have such a hard time hearing that they have others to relay messages that they are having a hard time hearing.
                    I'm still not experiencing the problems with mosquitos as others have mentioned here in the Everglades, but the NoSeeUms are out in force today and last night. I'm sure that part of the problem is that the location I picked for its protection from the wind is a big factor. That, and that in the evenings, what little breeze there is, dies to almost nothing. I bought three cans of Deep Woods Off thinking that would be way more than enough to scare away the mosquitos. I think this may be the first time I've ever bought a spray repellant because most of the time mosquitos don't bother me much. This place, especially during the summer has too bad a reputation to ignore, however. The mosquitos saw the cans and left the area, but three cans may not be enough anyway. I've used up well over one can already on the NoSeeUms. You know the mosquitos merely insert their proboscis into your skin and simply suck out a little blood, but the NoSeeUms are actually a tiny fly less than a sixteenth of an inch long that eats meat. Ouch! I've discovered a couple of good things about the NoSeeUms. One, unlike mosquitos, they don't try to avoid death. They just stay on you without trying to get away, The bad thing is, for every one you kill there are a thousand of his outraged relatives that want revenge. The second thing I discovered is that Deep Woods Off doesn't just repel them, it kills them. I spray myself in the aft quarters before I go to bed and this morning I thought someone had sprinkled ground black pepper on my sheet. The "black pepper" was actually hundreds of dead NoSeeUms.
                    This afternoon I felt confidant enough in how secure the boat is that I decided to quell my curiosity about the wood plank trail I found about a mile from here off into the center of one of the mangrove islands, that I set off to finally find out for sure where and what it led to. I didn't get far. There has been major changes to the trail along with significant deterioration. There is a new tower for a solar panel and radio antenna and someone has moved the big mystery box. The small dock has been disassembled, perhaps to make it less visible. Unfortunately, the trail has deteriorated to such a degree that I found it unsafe to traverse. When I stepped on one board and not only my foot slipped, but so did the board, I decided I wasn't curious enough to go in the drink to find out where it ended. By that time I had also found a label on one of the boxes that says USGS - United States Geological Survey, so I guess I really didn't need to take my pistol along for self defense after all.

Monday, 3 August - Apparently Isaias passed me by, so today I started pulling up stakes (anchors) to head back to Marathon. It's going to take awhile. I started pulling in lined and anchors this morning about 10 o'clock and finally got the last one out of the water about 4 pm. I don't think I've ever worked so hard or drunk so much water in one day in my life. All my clothes were soaking wet from perspiration. I finally took off my shirt about 2 o'clock thinking I'd be through soon, but the anchor that I'd planned on being the first out of the water wasn't. It was the last because I couldn't extract it with the dinghy. I had to raise the three others first, then move them off the bow rollers and move the aft anchor around to the bow and use the winch to raise it. Ugh!
                    Around 3 pm, I was surprised to hear a familiar voice call out "Island Time" on channel 16 on the VHF radio. It was Kevin on the S/V Bucket List. He had sailed up from Marathon today and anchored at the mouth of Little Shark River on his way to haul his boat out up near Lake Okeechobee and he had Bruce from the catamaran Southern Cross helping him sail north. Apparently they knew I was in here and hailed me to say "hello." I was still working on getting the last anchor raised, but called them back at about 5 pm. They were anchored outside the river and "having a cool one". I was jealous because I still hadn't anchored again, yet. I soon anchored just inside the mouth of the river and realized there were still plenty of NoSeeUms here too, so I raised the single anchor and moved even closer to the gulf. Now I'll get a little more breeze and, hopefully, fewer bugs.
                    Just before sunset I saw what I thought was either a big blob of mud or a tiny island surface behind the boat, but it turned out to only be a VERY large manatee.

Tuesday, 4 August - I was so tired from getting the anchors up yesterday that I slept very well last night. It didn't hurt that there are very few NoSeeUms or mosquitos here at the mouth of Little Shark River. As soon as I was wide awake I hailed Bucket List to wish them a good day of sailing. With very little wind, I think they'll have calm seas for motoring. Kevin has a beautiful boat that is shaped a lot like mine, but has two masts. Mine, with a single mast and two foresails is a cutter and his is a ketch. Throughout the day I took the Danforth anchor that I'd had to move from the stern to the bow to raise yesterday and dropped it into the dinghy, then took it to the stern, brought it aboard and stowed it away in the aft locker until needed again. I also lowered the secondary bow anchor back into its place, then brought hauled it aboard manually. It only weighs 44 pounds. The rest of the day was consumed by coiling and stowing about 5 or 6 hundred feet of line that I used over the last few days and preparing to head back to Marathon tomorrow. It's still hot and muggy, but at least I didn't feel the pressure to get the anchors up quickly before I ran aground or into the mangroves like I did yesterday. I also back spliced a small line that I had to cut yesterday when it apparently got caught on a snag on the river bottom. I was using that line to try to run a ring down to the Danforth anchor so I could pull it out backward, but was unsuccessful. This evening I finished up deck preparations, removed the outboard motor from the dinghy, mounted the engine on the rail with the motor davit, and raised and secured the dinghy on its davits. I believe all I have left to do tomorrow is place things in the saloon where they can't fall or spill, raise the anchor, and head out of the channel, but I'm sure I'll think of something else I've forgotten. Oops! I already did. I need to run the jacklines on the deck. I forgot them on the way here and almost forgot to install them again. Ooooh wee! It's sunset and I just thought I'd better install those jacklines tonight so I went out to the bow to do that. Big mistake. I thought the NoSeeUms would be about like last night, but no. They must have thought this was their last chance for a little vengeance and human flesh for awhile. They were so thick I couldn't keep them out of my eyes. I hope they're gone in the morning so I can get the anchor up without having to spray myself down, but at least, that should be the last time for awhile. Once I get out on the open Gulf, I'll be away from them.

Wednesday, 5 August - I knew this morning would be the last chance for me to reach Chris Parker's weather net on the SSB before returning to the harbor where there's supposedly more radio interference, so I tried one more time, unsuccessfully. About 7 am I got on the VHF and hailed Bucket List. They had already weighed anchor and headed north so I wished them good sailing. I had breakfast then weighed my anchor. I was very disappointed to see that the anchor flipper was fouled again and wouldn't allow the anchor to come through the bail at my bow rollers. Since the NoSeeUms were still out, I decided to let the anchor simply hang apeak and head out of the river into open water where I wouldn't have to worry about drifting into the mangroves or running aground. The wind was so light and the waves so small that I managed to get the anchor unfouled by lassoing it with a line, lifting it a few inches, feeding the chain out about a foot, and taking my boat hook and pounding the flipper down to free and untangle it, then winching it aboard while motoring and losing no time. The wind was about 10 to 15 kts. out of the south and my heading 180°, straight into the wind, so I motored all day to get back to Marathon. Yes, this is a sailboat and I could have sailed back, bet I can only sail about 45° off the wind so that would have added about 31 miles to the 44 miles home and to be honest, I was very anxious to get back and see Susie again. I made it back to the harbor in just over 9 hours bucking the wind. Pretty good time that would have been shorter yet with a clean hull.

Thursday, 6 August - Most of today, after taking Kendra, my next boat neighbor to shore so she could drive north to get her husband, Bruce, who helped sail Bucket List north, was spent putting a few more things away from the trip, and catching up on all the emails and associated messages that had been waiting for me while I was at Little Shark River. I must admit it was nice to be on the boat all day today and not be closed in, sprayed with repellant, hiding from the NoSeeUms.

When I left Marathon I was pretty sure that this storm wasn't going to hit there in full force, but I really didn't want to gamble everything on that assumption. I, also, assumed that this would be a good practice run and a chance to get some experience. That part I was right about. The thing I learned most was that I really don't want to make another "practice" run like this again. I've had enough of that. Not to say I've learned all I need to know. I'm saying the practice was too much hard work by myself and I don't want to do that again, especially getting all four anchors out and back up working against the tides and light breeze. I'm sure that at some time I'll find the experience invaluable, however.