STAGING OUR DEPARTURE

Our trip down the Intra Coastal Waterway ended at Fort Lauderdale where we took a slip at Pier 66 for the evening. Here we joined up with Howard and Debra Lerner aboard “Salty Goose”—old sailing buddies we had first met several months ago in the Chesapeake. The next morning, both our boats headed south to “No Name Harbour” in Key Biscayne where we planned to “stage” our departure for the Bahamas.

This anchorage is about as perfect as it gets. Its small oval bay, sheltered in all directions by a thick ring of tropical vegetation, boasts constant depths of 14’ and water smooth as glass. A delightful little restaurant sits at the waters edge and attracts upscale Hispanics and transient cruisers alike for authentic Cuban dishes. On weekends young locals arrive aboard machismo power boats, grooving to latino songs blaring from cockpit stereo systems and gyrating out on deck.

No Name Harbour is located within an environmentally protected park system. Paved trails thread their way through a natural jungle leading to picnicking areas, fishing piers and miles of beautiful swimming beach. There are laundering facilities, restrooms, manatees and raccoons. And a short walk to town takes you to groceries, a pharmacy, library and every convenience the civilized residents of Key Biscayne could desire. This place has it all!

When we arrived Dec. 19th we found a huge contingent of Canadian boats already assembled and eagerly awaiting a chance to depart. Spirits were buoyant as word of a possible “weather window” for tomorrow circulated from boat to boat via the waterway net. As the weather clocked around, strong winds from the southwest were scheduled to arrive the next morning but would be replaced in the evening by dangerous northeries. But according to OUR weather guru—Chris Parker—the operative word here was STRONG—15-20knots, gusting to 25! And with possible squalls accompanied by rough onshore waves at Cat Cay, passage through the “cut” and onto the “Banks” might prove to be dangerous. Despite these threats, the courageous Canadians were determined to go. They planned to take off together for Bimini at 4:00am the next morning chorousing “Weather be damned—it’s a great sailing day!” Which it was.

“Salty Goose” however, who had actually “been there, done that” many times before, advised caution. Based on past experience they recommended we not leave without a 24 hour calm sailing forecast. If, god forbid, something SHOULD go wrong on the boat, time and ideal conditions would be mandatory for any chance to reach safety with Gulf Stream currents pulling northeast and out to sea. They blamed the eagerness of the Canadian group on inexperience with these waters and herd mentality and refused to be part of it fearing the possibility of being “caught out” in the horrendous 7’ seas forecast for Friday. We had to agree. And so, feeling a little deflated, we looked around us, grateful to be anchored in such a delightful spot. Deciding to stay put just a little bit longer, we would enjoy what we were currently privileged to have and look forward to another window and safe passage sometime in the future.

That night while re-reading Bruce Van Sant’s “Passages South” I came across the following excerpt”
“If you do long passages to test yourself against the sea, you have to know you shall eventually lose the test. Passagemaker or islandhopper, only the cowards survive.”