Without sleep, those of us that chose not to rest planned our next move. We became weary and disheartened, though, as we came to find that the ferry from Marco Island (Naples area) to Key West wasn't running until the day after Christmas, and a charter plane would cost way too much. The idea to rent a car, which earlier was harshly objected by Mac, eventually came to fruition. It was our only option to get to Key West in time to have a few days of relaxation, which was desperately needed at this point.
I was forced to wait for Jesse, Brian and Prewitt as they went to fetch the rental. Mac was sitting beside me at the public meeting place at Naples City Dock, and 4 or 5 older gentlemen came and sat down with us. They meet daily for coffee and conversation. They didn't mind our company and seemed to get a good laugh out of our situation, which I thought was genuinly out of respect for the situation. I was so tired and dozed off several times whilst talking with these men. My neck kept losing control of my head and it dropped several times and I snapped it back up once I realized what had happened. Mac unconsciously stumbled about 150 yards to the boat to rest. It was easily 100 degrees in the cabin, but he minded not. The car arrived, our laundry was finished and I bought a cold water to wake up the captain, which was the only thing I knew would get Mac to his feet. That man can sleep for days, but can also go without sleep for the same amount of time.
We loaded the car and were on our way. Jesse drove like a mad man and protested the idea of having a few beers on the way. As he was the driver, I respected his wishes and refrained, however bitterly. I was attempting sleep but never quite got there as I was crammed in the back with two others.
We eventually arrived at Key West at about 5:30, checked into our guest house and I had to grab 30-40 minutes of sleep, seeing as I hadn't had any for abotu 48 hours at this point. The others went to a bar called The Wagon Wheel, and I eventually met up with them to play drunken Jenga, which proved for some interesting laughs. The spirits were raised once again, this time for a while. They began to realize my previously crabby attitude was due to lack of sleep and nourishment, so once all that was cleared up were the best of mates again.
We headed to a dinner of raw oysters and conch fritters at Half Shell Raw Bar and set course for Duval Street there after. Our first choice was Irish Kevin's, where we entered immediately as a scuffle broke out. Such hostility was a bit foreign to us, so I think we were a bit rattled. Out of nowhere, Travis Ward, my brother in law's best man, tapped me on the shoulder and we had a few laughs. He and a few other people I knew from my sister's wedding and from my first high school were there for lobster mini season. We chatted for a bit and then left for Captain Tony's, Hogs Breath and all the other tourist spots. We stopped at a place called the littlest bar in Key West. It was in fact the size of a small bathroom, but the owner was an interesting fellow. I began ripping off a conversation with a said local about his time there and how he'd tried to make it as a writer but was weary to get his work published. The conversation made me a bit sad for the man, but he seemed genuinely happy with his life, despite his troubles as a writer. Such individual conflicts are not foreign for those who choose to make it as writers. It's a difficult trade.
That night, we went for a late-night meal and I got some of the best sleep I've had in many, many nights.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Day 4 -- Rock Bottom
Having finally claimed a fitting and comfortable sleeping spot, I was expecting nothing but the best of sleep. I was saddened, or am now, to realize that it wasn't going to happen. Extreme weather showed its ugly face and I was awoken to Ella nearly on her side. I was thrown against the wall of the bed and as I opened my eyes I saw groceries and cooking utensils come flying from their location toward my head. I quickly sat up and got what bearings I could gather. The weather outside the window looked harsh and I could hear a worried bit of chatter up in the cockpit.
I hesitated to join the rest of the crew on deck because of a lack of rain jacket, and interest. I eventually went up and chaos quickly followed. We battled the elements for several hours until we hit smooth waters. Our hearts and minds settled and I was finally able to make up for lost rest. The day turned from gray and cold to brutally hot and bright, which was unfortunate because through a miscommunication in planning we ran out of sunblock. To top it off, Ella's little engine that had been powering us more of the way than we had planned was giving out. We decided to find safe harbor and cut our course due East for Naples to refuel.
We had been about 65 miles off shore and it took us a long while to get close to land. We saw land finally and decided we again needed to shoot off a few rounds from the gun and finish off those damn clay pigeons once and for all. I finally got cell reception and was able to talk to my people, which greatly lifted my spirits for a while, but at the same time it made me a bit home sick.
I slept for a bit and was awoken to panic and lightning. This was happening whilst we tried to enter the harbor in Naples. Mosquitos chewed at us from the mangrove marshes and Ella's engine went in and out of service. We needed gas desperately and it was nearly midnight. We could not see, nor did we know the way to the city dock. So we had to improvize our plan. A mission to find fuel was planned, and three of us -- me, Brian and Jesse -- were dropped off at the dock of a mansion in Port Royal, which is the richest neighborhood in Naples, and likely in Florida. Luckily, or so we hoped, the house was abandoned for the summer and we snuck our way to the street in front to call a cab.
The cabby picked us up and laughed as we explained our predicament. He was very accomodating and felt badly for the harsh times we had to endure. We got gas, sunblock, water and McDonalds for the crew and headed back to the dock at about 3:30 am. As we trespassed through the property, we saw that there was an approaching thunderstorm on its way. No more than 30 seconds after we unloaded the fuel and goods, the heavens parted and we were pissed upon by the gods. I had to lie down for a bit, but got up to enjoy the lifted spirits.
Whilst on our mission, we formulated a new plan to get to Key West, which was either to rent a car or take the ferry from Naples to Key West in the morning. We proposed it to Mac and he approved to the ferry idea. We motored our way to Naples City Dock whilst laughing and chugging champagne, snapping ridiculous pictures the entire way. We tied up to the fuel dock, awaiting the arrival of the Dockmaster. It was about 4:30 am, so we knew it wouldn't be too long. At this point I hadn't slept in many hours, and Day 5 was beginning, whether I liked it or not, with much controversy. Spirits and energy levels were at their bottoms. We needed cold beer badly.
I hesitated to join the rest of the crew on deck because of a lack of rain jacket, and interest. I eventually went up and chaos quickly followed. We battled the elements for several hours until we hit smooth waters. Our hearts and minds settled and I was finally able to make up for lost rest. The day turned from gray and cold to brutally hot and bright, which was unfortunate because through a miscommunication in planning we ran out of sunblock. To top it off, Ella's little engine that had been powering us more of the way than we had planned was giving out. We decided to find safe harbor and cut our course due East for Naples to refuel.
We had been about 65 miles off shore and it took us a long while to get close to land. We saw land finally and decided we again needed to shoot off a few rounds from the gun and finish off those damn clay pigeons once and for all. I finally got cell reception and was able to talk to my people, which greatly lifted my spirits for a while, but at the same time it made me a bit home sick.
I slept for a bit and was awoken to panic and lightning. This was happening whilst we tried to enter the harbor in Naples. Mosquitos chewed at us from the mangrove marshes and Ella's engine went in and out of service. We needed gas desperately and it was nearly midnight. We could not see, nor did we know the way to the city dock. So we had to improvize our plan. A mission to find fuel was planned, and three of us -- me, Brian and Jesse -- were dropped off at the dock of a mansion in Port Royal, which is the richest neighborhood in Naples, and likely in Florida. Luckily, or so we hoped, the house was abandoned for the summer and we snuck our way to the street in front to call a cab.
The cabby picked us up and laughed as we explained our predicament. He was very accomodating and felt badly for the harsh times we had to endure. We got gas, sunblock, water and McDonalds for the crew and headed back to the dock at about 3:30 am. As we trespassed through the property, we saw that there was an approaching thunderstorm on its way. No more than 30 seconds after we unloaded the fuel and goods, the heavens parted and we were pissed upon by the gods. I had to lie down for a bit, but got up to enjoy the lifted spirits.
Whilst on our mission, we formulated a new plan to get to Key West, which was either to rent a car or take the ferry from Naples to Key West in the morning. We proposed it to Mac and he approved to the ferry idea. We motored our way to Naples City Dock whilst laughing and chugging champagne, snapping ridiculous pictures the entire way. We tied up to the fuel dock, awaiting the arrival of the Dockmaster. It was about 4:30 am, so we knew it wouldn't be too long. At this point I hadn't slept in many hours, and Day 5 was beginning, whether I liked it or not, with much controversy. Spirits and energy levels were at their bottoms. We needed cold beer badly.
Day 3 -- Navigating the Doldrums
I began thye graveyard shift with Prewitt at about 2:30 am, only to find the Gulf to be flat as glass and strangely quiet. My fatigue had not subsided and it soon overcame me. I was a bit weary at the helm and as I could not see the compass well enough I had to guide Ella's course by the stars in the sky. But after stairing at the stars for hours trying to remain on course, they began playing tricks on my tired eyes and they were doing things starts should never do. They began to flip and zip and jump from side to side. On the horizon I saw and imagined horrible things that I knew did not exist, but nonetheless they still frightened me and I knew I was completely rattled to the core.
Prewitt attempted conversation to keep our minds sharp, but I hadn't the strength and I quickly felt full exhaustion take over me. After begging for the sun to rise, it's eventual ascent to the sky proved to be quite the stunning image on the reflection of the calm waters. Jesse awoke and I quickly ran to claim his bed. I slept hard for a few hours and awoke to some wind and hot skies. I think boredom and frustration had set in as we realized we were many miles behind where we intended and needed to be to make it to the Dry Tortugas.
Eventually we had to make the decision to cut the Dry Tortugas out of our trip entirely, because we would not make it to Key West in time and would likely not make it home in time, as the wind was not going our way and we hadn't the motor to make it.
I chose to take the early shift so I could get some more good sleep. We drank hot tea with Jack Daniel's and cruised on until it was our turn to sleep. I got a good bed, put on my iPod and slept as long as I could. That was, until I was brutally awoken the next morning.
Prewitt attempted conversation to keep our minds sharp, but I hadn't the strength and I quickly felt full exhaustion take over me. After begging for the sun to rise, it's eventual ascent to the sky proved to be quite the stunning image on the reflection of the calm waters. Jesse awoke and I quickly ran to claim his bed. I slept hard for a few hours and awoke to some wind and hot skies. I think boredom and frustration had set in as we realized we were many miles behind where we intended and needed to be to make it to the Dry Tortugas.
Eventually we had to make the decision to cut the Dry Tortugas out of our trip entirely, because we would not make it to Key West in time and would likely not make it home in time, as the wind was not going our way and we hadn't the motor to make it.
I chose to take the early shift so I could get some more good sleep. We drank hot tea with Jack Daniel's and cruised on until it was our turn to sleep. I got a good bed, put on my iPod and slept as long as I could. That was, until I was brutally awoken the next morning.
Day 2 -- Sunrise, Shotguns and Steak
After only a few hours of mild sleep, I decided to give the crew at the helm a rest and relieve them for a while so they could sleep. McQuade and I were motoring from about 2:30 am until just before day break, when we witnessed a heavenly sunrise and were greeted by a strong wind. Discussions followed between us, and eventually the crew slowly rose to see Ella's sails full with wind. Mac eventually napped, as he's been known to do for days at a time, and things for the rest of us got a bit off course. But we eventually righted our course. With fishing lines out, we hoped to catch our dinner, but there was little interest from our friends of the sea. I attempted to nap again, but alas, the Florida heat in the cabin of a 27-foot sailboat is less than ideal for comfort. There was a bit of excitement as Mac suggested we attempt to lower the center board a bit, which meant stalling the sails and swimming underneath the boat. We were about 25-30 miles off the coast at this point and the water was blue -- and quite deep. They were unsuccessful in the end, but it seemed to brighten spirits a bit.
After that, we decided it was high time for target practice, so I pulled out the 12-gauge Mossberg pump action with an 8 shell capacity. We had a hand tosser for the clay pigeons as well. We proceeded to hoot and holler as we blew clay pigeons out of the sky, and followed it all up with a meal of steak and potatoes on the small grill. If there were to be any grunting and beating on chests, it would have taken place then. No go though.
Fatigue was setting in for me and I decided a sleep was in order. It was short-lived though, and I was soon up again to pilot Ella through the dead winds of the graveyard shift, and I saw the Gulf as though I'd never seen it before.
After that, we decided it was high time for target practice, so I pulled out the 12-gauge Mossberg pump action with an 8 shell capacity. We had a hand tosser for the clay pigeons as well. We proceeded to hoot and holler as we blew clay pigeons out of the sky, and followed it all up with a meal of steak and potatoes on the small grill. If there were to be any grunting and beating on chests, it would have taken place then. No go though.
Fatigue was setting in for me and I decided a sleep was in order. It was short-lived though, and I was soon up again to pilot Ella through the dead winds of the graveyard shift, and I saw the Gulf as though I'd never seen it before.
Day 1 -- Ella Rides On
Ahoy folks.
Pardon the catchy sailing cliche, but it's been a while since I've had human contact outside of the 4 other people on this boat. I'll give you a play by play on the days as they've gone, so without further hesitation....
Day 1
Seeing that we had all made it to the boat in the estimated/intended time, I thought it quite odd after the fact that we didn't get into the Gulf until well into early Saturday morning. But let me back up. We packed the boat for about an hour and a half, and kept peaking over our shoulders at the impending storm that was forming just past Tampa Bay. My brother phoned and said this particular storm had serious teeth, and we might consider waiting to push off for a bit. I was in the minority with that particular idea, so the Captain -- Chris McQuade -- called it and we pushed off into a dark and stormy Tampa Bay, with lightning hammering itself down all around us. The winds began to rip and it made every mast sound like a screaming banshee. It closely resembled what I think choirs in hell might sound like. Regardless our captain opted for a hasty departure, directly toward the fierce lightning, howling wind and abundant rain. Poor Ella -- the boat -- could not muster the strength to exit the harbor, however, because her motor did not have the power to battle the ripping current coming into the harbor.
We were forced to bring her back to safety and we waited out the storm. A half hour passed and we drank beer and reciting Walt Whitman to solidify our appreciation for the journey at hand and the elements we were likely to face. We eventually pushed off into a dead wind, so we had to motor it until we could catch something in the sails. The hours flew by as did the bottles of Roset, which Chris Prewitt bought a case of and have become quite the fancy of the crew. We went under an unlit SkyWay bridge and tried to find the channel out into the Gulf, and by that time it was well into the early morning, so I opted for sleep while the remaining crew fought the dead wind.
Pardon the catchy sailing cliche, but it's been a while since I've had human contact outside of the 4 other people on this boat. I'll give you a play by play on the days as they've gone, so without further hesitation....
Day 1
Seeing that we had all made it to the boat in the estimated/intended time, I thought it quite odd after the fact that we didn't get into the Gulf until well into early Saturday morning. But let me back up. We packed the boat for about an hour and a half, and kept peaking over our shoulders at the impending storm that was forming just past Tampa Bay. My brother phoned and said this particular storm had serious teeth, and we might consider waiting to push off for a bit. I was in the minority with that particular idea, so the Captain -- Chris McQuade -- called it and we pushed off into a dark and stormy Tampa Bay, with lightning hammering itself down all around us. The winds began to rip and it made every mast sound like a screaming banshee. It closely resembled what I think choirs in hell might sound like. Regardless our captain opted for a hasty departure, directly toward the fierce lightning, howling wind and abundant rain. Poor Ella -- the boat -- could not muster the strength to exit the harbor, however, because her motor did not have the power to battle the ripping current coming into the harbor.
We were forced to bring her back to safety and we waited out the storm. A half hour passed and we drank beer and reciting Walt Whitman to solidify our appreciation for the journey at hand and the elements we were likely to face. We eventually pushed off into a dead wind, so we had to motor it until we could catch something in the sails. The hours flew by as did the bottles of Roset, which Chris Prewitt bought a case of and have become quite the fancy of the crew. We went under an unlit SkyWay bridge and tried to find the channel out into the Gulf, and by that time it was well into the early morning, so I opted for sleep while the remaining crew fought the dead wind.
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