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Page 4 |
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Page 4 |
| A fresh breeze of about 18 knots from the north hit us as we motored out into Whitewater Bay, a roughly 10 mile by 10 mile body of water with an average depth of four feet and filled with islands. We were met by one and a half foot waves and the Sanity labored at four knots with engine on. I imagined myself as a canoeist fighting the wind and waves. It would have been rough going and I'd have paddled off the marked route to use the lee of islands to work across the bay. As we approached the middle of the bay, several bottlenosed dolphins surfaced and swam with us awhile. We anchored in the lee of Midway Key for lunch (oh yes, they're called keys down there, not islands). After lunch, we got under sail and discovered that the centerboard was hitting bottom. I partially raised the centerboard to clear the bottom, but found that we just couldn't make our northwest course under the conditions, so we fell back to motoring again. We anchored for the night along Cormorant Pass among dozens of small keys. We had made 17 n mi. |
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Heading into the 18 knot breeze and meeting a pair of bottlenosed dolphins |
| The Sanity's
cockpit is equipped with a bimini and zippered side panels. Once
in place, this "tent" allows the use of the entire cockpit as living quarters
for the night. It has screened openings for ventilation and worked
very well against the Everglade mosquitos that come out just after sunset.
In fact, as we were to discover, all of the unique characteristics of the
Sanity came in handy on this trip. One addition I made for the boat
was several boards that turned the cockpit into a sleeping area.
Since both of us are six footers, this arrangement was especially handy.
Kaz slept in the cockpit and I got the entire below deck area for myself.
You wouldn't find better bunking even in the biggest boats.
That night I stuck my head out of the forward hatch to take in the night sky of the Everglades. I was not prepared for the sight! Totally clear, as if in high mountains. The Milky Way very obvious. Polaris noticeably closer to the horizon than I'm used to. The little dipper stars quite apparent. Bright stars peeking through the mangroves right on down to the horizon. A night that will be remembered. |