Thursday, February 21, 2008

Vero Beach to Stuart, Florida

[Hilde’s log]

Stuart, Florida, at last! We had several “last days” in Vero Beach before we actually managed to get away. I really thought we’d leave Tuesday - we even turned in our bathroom key. The food and supplies were bought and stowed, the rental car was returned, the laundry was done, the cockpit and the cabin roof were clear, we’d had our farewell showers, the income tax return was finished and ready to be mailed, the norther blew in and out, the sun was shining, and yet we sat another day. Why? The engine, of course!

After dinner the night before we were to leave, David decided to check the engine oil, to make sure all we had to do in the morning was crank the key in the engine. To his astonishment, the oil pan was full of diesel! He pumped it out, ending up with about 8 quarts of black, thin diesel mixed with oil that we poured into a sacrificial jerry can. He deduced that the diesel seeped through when he was fixing the injector and inadvertently left off a spring (later replaced, but evidently not soon enough to stop the seepage). Those high oil levels were a fairly traumatic find. He pumped out the diesel and oil and filled the pan with new oil, telling me if the level held when he checked the next morning, then we were fine; if not, we were stranded until he found out what on earth the problem could be. Funnily enough, when we ran the engine after draining the diesel and refilling the oil, it ran more smoothly than it ever has, a bass hum replacing the usual clatter. Seems we did a flush and made Mr. P very happy. We turned in late (1 a.m.) and although I slept like a dead thing, David woke up at three hearing a light rain and by the time he’d taken care of open portholes and stuff in the cockpit, he was wide awake.

The next morning the oil level was fine and that was good, but David had to take the bus in to Wal-Mart to get new jerry cans for water, this after only two hours of sleep. So when he returned, frazzled from the bus and chilled from the cool air we decided to wait another day so we could leave in peace and quiet after a full night’s sleep. David went back to bed for a long afternoon nap and I spent the time baking a pineapple upside down cake. The oven warmed the chilly cabin nicely, and when David woke up we took the rest of the day off, drinking coffee, eating cake, and watching a movie.

The next morning I took the bus to the post office to mail our tax return (how is it that you can make no money and still owe tax??) while David stowed stuff on the boat, checked the engine oil level, and otherwise got us ready to leave. We took another set of farewell showers when I got back from the post office and pulled away from the mooring about 11 a.m. David decided he wanted to check the oil level again, so we paused at the anchorage at Ft. Pierce, just past the bridge, about 15 miles from Vero Beach. The depth meter was also on the fritz, proclaiming a uniform depth of 18.8 feet every inch of the way, so while the engine cooled, David tore into the depth meter, the wiring, and the sensors to diagnose the problem. He finally decided that the unit itself had to be at fault. The good news was that the engine was behaving itself. The bad news was we would have to order a new depth meter for David to install. We spent the night at the Ft. Pierce anchorage, lopping about as the large boats sloshed by, eating soup, and getting a good night’s sleep. We figured we’d head to Stuart today in order to get and install a new depth meter. We both spend a lot of time shaking our heads over how much time David spends fixing things on the boat. Imagine that every time you drive to work, the muffler falls off your car, or a tire goes flat, or the odometer gets stuck, or the radio conks out. I joke weakly that it will be fun to be in the islands for my birthday (in March).

Stuart is about 35 miles from Ft. Pierce, a good day’s travel. It’s not on the ICW, but up the St. Lucie River about seven miles. It’s been a chilly day, as we’ve motored into stiff wind the entire way. NOAA confidently predicted 5 to 10 knots; we haven’t seen less than 15 all day. The rain finally caught up with us at the mouth of the St. Lucie and we wound our way westward with rain splattering the bimini, pooling in the cockpit, and fogging the isinglass of the dodger. Fishing boats of all sizes crowded the inlet, headed up and down the river, most of them churning heavy wake and making a convoluted entrance more difficult. Some day I suppose I will get used to the thoughtless way some people motor their boats, but it hasn’t happened yet. I bet they live their lives the way they motor their boats, just bullying their way along and the hell with everyone else. I am glad I don’t have to live with them; I wish they’d find another hobby so I didn’t have to boat with them.

The St. Lucie is a pretty river, lined with the requisite Florida mc-mansions crowded together on zero lot lines. The city marina at Stuart is large and boasts 80 odd mooring balls at a very reasonable $10 a night. Stuart is a very popular stop for the cruising community, with easy access to stores, groceries, and community activities. We’ve heard ugly rumors that a developer has taken a 50 year lease on the waterfront and plans to install dockage, reduce the mooring field, and hike the prices. It’s a shame, but I can’t say I’m surprised. It’s all part of the gentrification of the waterways. I wish I knew of a compromise;– after all, there’s nothing inherently superior about older facilities. It’s just that the improvements are so often Disneyesque and they are always priced in a way that excludes those of us who must cruise on a budget, not to mention the locals who own boats but not gold mines. They also exclude people who have made their living on the water historically and who can’t manage the taxes or the rentals on the suddenly high priced waterfront. Sigh. Let’s see if I can find a way down from this soapbox…

I managed to steer the boat close enough to the mooring that David could catch it without bodily injury, for which I (and he) was very grateful. We got settled in just before a hard rain began to fall, and retreated below for cookies and a rest. The new depth meter should be here tomorrow (ordered from Hamilton Marine, a wonderful mail order supplier of marine merchandise should you need any) and we’ll spend the weekend getting that installed, buying some fresh produce, strolling around Stuart, and enjoying my favorite land side activity, hot showers.

A couple in a dinghy just hailed us. We went topside and were greeted with “But you’re not Clyde!” Clyde is Raven’s previous owner, and this couple recognized the boat. We will get together later to get acquainted and trade stories. I'm always astonished by the number of ways you meet folks on the water!

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Found you in my search for location of Prince Creek off the Waccamaw. Enjoyed reading your logs. Do you have GPS or any specific location data for Prince Creek? Am trying to recreate a 1996 trip. Thanks, CJ
"Life's a reach and then you gybe"

Hilde said...

CJ - thanks for writing; David is asleep and I'll need to find out from him what GPS location, if any, we have for Prince's Creek. If you have a map handy: Find Georgetown, SC and trace the west fork (on the left of the map) of the Waccamaw north - the creek is there somewhere. I will try to get you a GPS location in the next few days. Best wishes, Hilde

Hilde said...

Okay, CJ, here are your lat/longs for Prince Creek:

N 33 degrees, 35.813'
W 79 degrees, 04.991'

Hope this helps, Hilde