It’s been a very busy few weeks for me, so there has been a bit of an unintentional post-Challenge haitus at Clarity Sailing Adventures. But I haven’t gone away, and the prep for next years’ Challenge will begin soon. And the blog posts will start rolling in again soon!
Mike
Launching Discovery off of Fort Desoto Park beach at the start of the 2013 Everglades Challenge ©Glenn Hayes
Many thanks to Glenn Hayes for the use of this beautiful picture. http://www.HayesStudios.com - http://aqualifestyle.wordpress.com/2013/03/02/the-everglades-challenge/
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They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters; These see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep. For he commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves thereof.
Psalms, 107:23-25
Feeding Children Everywhere, the social charity I have been supporting, is on Facebook, and is almost at 5000 ‘likes’. Please consider going to their page and liking it… and while you are there, check it out… maybe make a donation or buy something from their store. After all, it’s about as worthy a cause as you can find anywhere!
https://www.facebook.com/feedingchildreneverywhere
http://www.feedingchildreneverywhere.com/
This report will also be posted on the official WaterTribe site
This year’s EC was quite a sleighride for me up until my rudder troubles off Fort Myers Beach. But much was learned, and a great time was had, and I’ll attempt to share it with you here.
PART 3
Picnic Island is a wonderful spot. Picturesque and peaceful, with sandy beaches and a wooded interior combining to make it a great place to rest and relax. However, less 50 yards north of Picnic is one of the busiest ICW channels I’ve ever had the displeasure to be near. Almost devoid of traffic when I arrived, it soon began to look like a maritime version of an I-95 nightmare, with 80′ monstrosities operated by people apparently unqualified to own bathtub toys, competing to see who could run their McYachts at their most inefficient speed, thus creating the largest wakes possible. One even had speakers mounted FACING OUTWARDS, so that we could share their particularly vapid and vanilla taste in loud country music. And loud it was… having recently attended a Ted Nugent concert, I think I’m somewhat qualified to judge volume, and this was approaching pain.
Time to go, so I loaded up, dressed in fleeces, drysuit, and those darn waterproof socks that I had forgotten on day one. I pushed off, and headed south around the island, avoiding the channel traffic for the moment, and headed for the San Carlos Bridge.
The wind and tide had changed enough that I was able to make the bridge without tacking, but my approach angle was oblique enough that I knew I wouldn’t be able to go under the bridge in the channel, with its long bolsters. This was a good thing, for if I had tried, I’d likely be maritime kindling right now, as the boaters going under the bridge made the ones near Picnic Island seem positively intelligent and courteous. I cleared the bridge to the west, crossed the channel, and immediately found myself hemmed in between the shallows and even bigger McYachts, some of which blew by me with less than 30′ of distance, even though they had hundreds of yards to use. I am convinced that some of them harbor a not-so-secret desire to swamp and/or sink small craft.
The wind was actually fairly light for the sea state, and Discovery’s motion was a bit jerky and abrupt, with waves and wakes alike slamming our starboard side, occasionally breaking over the gunwale. I briefly thought about taking the ICW route, but the weather, wind, and waves looked to be about as good as I could get for the shot to Marco Island and Cape Romano, so I settled in for a close reach on a compass course of 150, knowing my course would round out a bit closer to south as I progressed. And the wind was rounding as well, so it looked like I’d stay on a close reach, with a single reefed main, full jib, and lumpy seas for the next six hours or so.
Of course, as soon as you settle in, something unsettling happens… and for me, it was a feeling like an icepick stabbing me in the lower back. What it was, however, was about a half cup of Gulf of Mexico entering my drysuit, at the base of my spine. I wear a two piece drysuit, and I’ve always been both aware and careful about properly sealing the two of them together, and I’ve never had an issue. Until now. With the bouncing and tossing about the wakes and waves caused, one of two things had happened. Either the boat fender I use as a backrest had unrolled the suit gasket, or I had torn my suit. Reaching around, it felt like it had just unrolled a bit, and had in fact re-rolled, so I decided that if I warmed up, I’d press on. As a precaution, I called the race manager and informed her of the issue, as I would shortly be sailing off of unpopulated shoreline. I just wanted her to know that if my course suddenly turned east, and I went ashore, it was likely due to a damaged drysuit, and that I would likely be out of the Challenge if I did it. PaddleDancer acknowleged, and wished me luck. With the call complete, and my suit sealed, I settled again, and waited to see if the water would warm up in my suit, or if I was in for another bout of cold. It didn’t help any that the water was sitting right on top of the area where I’d had back surgery years before.
As mentioned earlier, settling in has its disadvantages. In this case, less than a minute after I got comfortable, I noticed what I thought was a change in wave patterns. Discovery was responding oddly to her helm.
I took a quick look around, saw no change to either local or overall wave patterns, and then looked astern. What I saw chilled me more than the water in my suit… Discovery’s rudder mount was loose. And the moment I saw it, some fiberglass bit in the transom let out a subtly nasty cracking sound. I knew instantly that my Challenge attempt was over, and the only challenge left was to get ashore before the rudder came off, for if I lost the rudder in those confused seas, a capsize was almost inevitable.
Looking towards shore, I could see Lover’s Key inlet to the southeast, but the wave motion would have put too much of a strain on the rudder to try for it. Just north of there are a bunch of condominiums, but they didn’t look too inviting. However, just to my north were a bunch of hotels and private residences. I figured my best bet was to aim for a hotel next to a private residence, so that my options for storing Discovery and my gear until I could recover them would be greater. About one second after I chose my landing spot, a dolphin breached less than 10′ from me, aiming for exactly the spot I had picked. Hoping that he was a sign, as opposed to an innocent creature disturbed by my passage, I went for it. My next step was to call the CP2 manager, and inform him of my choice to abandon the Challenge. I called him instead of the race manager because last year I was the CP1 manager, and I always worried about boats that hadn’t arrived. After taking care of that, and calling my wife (who encouraged me to keep on going, just like last time when we were seriously leaking!), I aimed for a group of large guys, hoping for help getting out of the surf, and in I went. As I got closer, Sue called to ask me where I was, to which I replied “50 feet from crashing the boat!”, hung up, and wormed my way through the surf, hearing my potential targets saying to each other something about “that sailboat seems awfully close”. And that I was… in fact, when I washed up the beach, I was a bit closer to the hotel than two of guys on the shore! A two second inspection confirmed my suspicions… the core had collapsed between the fiberglass skins of the transom, and there was no simple fix. Although barely visible, and easily repairable at the shop, my attempt was definitely over.
They did indeed help me get the boat past the high water line, whereupon we tipped it over, dumped the water out that I had collected in the surf, and proceeded to have a great, stiff shot of Irish Cream, as told in http://claritysailingadventures.wordpress.com/2013/03/07/a-beachin-end-to-my-2013-everglades-challenge-attempt/
After calming down a bit, and saying goodbye to my new found friends, I walked up to the hotel to inquire about a room. Of course, there were none, so I went to the bar, had a couple of beers and a huge fish sandwich, called my boss, as our company is headquartered in Fort Myers, and went back to the boat to sleep until morning.
Fitful sleep did come, interrupted by the wind and the spring breakers walking about, but around 3 the sound of the surf alarmed me enough that I got up and carried my gear about 100 yards to the cabana chair row, and then rolled Discovery up there using the big black fenders I carried on board for that purpose (well, that and for pillows).
It sure looks like a lot of stuff when it’s on a forklift, doesn’t it?!?
Around 7:00 my boss picked up me and my gear, and brought me to the office, where I cleaned up (being told there was a shower only AFTER I baby wiped myself to cleanliness in the restroom), loaded my gear onto our delivery truck, and caught a ride back to Tampa.
But it wasn’t over yet. The Challenge ends when I have all my gear and boat secured, and Discovery was still on the sand in Fort Myers, so I had Phil, my Tampa yard guy, drop me off at Fort Desoto, where my car and trailer were, and I headed straight back to Fort Myers, wondering all the while how I was going to get Discovery on her trailer when I got there. About the time I got to Bradenton, I got the bright idea to post an assistance request on the WaterTribe forum page, and within an hour, I had all the help I needed lined up. I picked up KayakKowboy on the way, and hustled to the beach, where we found Discovery had blown over, but intact, with even the fenders and gear bits I had left behind still there. We righted her, dropped the mast, and carried it to the hotel, where we met the rest of the guys. With 6 guys, we were able to actually pick up and carry Discovery right through the hotel tiki bar and onto her trailer, simply and easily. The only thing we DIDN’T do was take any pictures, as we were all to busy with the job at hand. That, and I was too tired to remember to take them. My sincere and special thanks go to KayakCowboy, SeaFrog, and SeaFrogs’ 3 friends, Gil Gilkison, Roy Merz, and Fran Carley. These 5 gentlemen answered by call for assistance in getting the boat off the beach. Thanks guys… seriously.
And so ends my second attempt at the Everglades Challenge, but it won’t be my last. The knowledge gained in my first two entries is immeasurable, and I fully intend to put it to good use next year. So stay tuned!
EQUIPMENT AND SUPPLIES TO BE REVIEWED SOON:
Esbit 1 liter thermal jar
MSR PocketRocket stove
Feeding Children Everywhere meals
Raw Revolution Spirulina bars
Stonewalls, May Wah, and Ned’s Chipotle vegetarian jerky.
Nexus 7 tablet
Surf To Summit soft case for tablet
Coleman and Ozark vinyl drybags
Stohlquist/NRS combo 2 piece drysuit
Polar Buff
Maxx Sunglasses
One of the most critical needs for an adventure challenge such as the Everglades Challenge is maintaining proper nutrition and hydration. There are various ways to ensure you get proper nutrition, but my choice has always been to try and keep as much of my food the same as what I eat on land. Of course, I have to exclude pizza and indian buffets, but the rice and lentil based meal developed by Feeding Children Everywhere seemed to be an ideal base around which to form my nutritional plan. A big concern during the Everglades Challenge is avoiding debilitating hypothermia. Proper clothing is essential, but hot food is very important too. As I was going to be sailing alone, and often not touching land for up to a day at a time, I needed a simple way to cook and keep hot food on board. I chose to cook and keep my hot food in an Esbit thermal food jar, which I purchased at Go2Outfitters, using an MSR Pocket Rocket stove and a teapot for efficient boiling of water. Later on, I’ll review the equipment used, but for now, I’m posting a pictorial guide to preparing a meal using minimal fuel and time, which will provide you with a liter of hot food that will remain hot for 18 hours, and warm for another 6 after that. The system worked so well, in fact, that I’m developing a variety of recipes which I’m using in my daily life on land!
A view of the galley equipment carried aboard Discovery. Well, except for the spoon, which is currently residing in the dishwasher!
Hey… look in the pot! It’s not one of Herbert Hoover’s chickens (the funny truth is that Henry IV was the one who actually made the chicken in a pot comment, not H.H.), but it IS an MSR Pocket Rocket stove, a lighter, and a waterproof container loaded with stormproof matches.
Galley equipment, with the MSR Pocket Rocket stove assembled. The burner and plastic case weigh about 3 ounces.
The MSR Pocket Rocket stove boiling water… you can’t see the flames, but in 6 minutes, the pot will let you know it’s ready!
Here we have a 6 serving bag of Feeding Children Everywhere meals, a ziploc bag containing half of the original amount, and the 1 liter Esbit thermal food jar I used in order to have hot, nutritious food at all times during the 2013 Everglades Challenge. The reason for the ziploc bagged portion is that 3 servings and 800 ml of water are needed for my 1 liter thermal cooking method.
The dry Feeding Children Everywhere meal ingredients in the Esbit food jar, patiently awaiting boiling water from the teapot.
The boiling water has been added… at this point, it’s hard to believe the meal will cook and absorb almost all that water with no heat source, but in 3 hours, it will.
After adding the dry Feeding Children Everywhere meal and 800ml of boiling water, capping it quickly to retain as much heat as possible is essential.
After 3 hours in the Esbit thermal jar, the FCE meal is fully cooked, tender, and delicious! Using 800ml of water during the cooking leaves the meal a bit moister than when cooking on the stovetop, but it fills the jar a little more, keeping everything a little hotter, and provides me with a little more hydration, and a meal that can, when sailing, be eaten from the cap without utensils if need be.
This report will also be posted on the official WaterTribe site
This year’s EC was quite a sleighride for me up until my rudder troubles off Fort Myers Beach. But much was learned, and a great time was had, and I’ll attempt to share it with you here.
PART 2
After getting a good night’s sleep at CP1 (and a lot of sleep during the day), I was more rested than I had been the entire week previous to the start of the Challenge. Many unexpected things at work and home conspired to really wear me out just before the start, which contributed to me errors in judgment the first day. Being well fed and rested, and remembering to put on my waterproof socks, I set out on my way towards CP2.
My first obstacle, and one that made me really glad I hadn’t given in to temptation and left late the previous afternoon, was the Boca Grande Causeway Bridge. This was the first bridge I had to deal with that opened on their schedule, as opposed to mine! I missed the ½ time by about 5 minutes, so I tacked around until the next opening, having spoken to the bridge tender to insure he knew I was there, as I had no desire to get smacked by the swing bridge closing on me. After that, I sailed through the abandoned railway trestle (the bridge section has long been removed) and headed for Boca Grande Pass and Pine Island Sound.
As I neared the Pass, I decided that I might want to put ashore and tie in a reef, so I began scouting locations. I had thought about tying in the reef a bit earlier, when I made a quick pit stop, but the wind hadn’t filled in, so I continued under full sail towards the south end of Gasparilla. I tend to prefer hitting hotel shoreline as opposed to the sand at private homes, but many of the houses were shuttered, so I picked one, and aimed for the shore. As I got closer, I saw I had picked the only bit of occupied beach, as a Carolina Skiff was beached sideways, with a gasoline-operated pump attempting to empty her. I checked with the skipper, who told me that she had been left at a dock and swamped by the weather the night before, which made me doubly glad I hadn’t been there in the dark. And just to make me triply glad, I noticed 3 large telephone poles bobbing in the surf nearby… and THAT would have been a collision I would not want to have endured, day or night.
After tying in the reef, I headed back out and across the Pass, which turned out to be a nice sail, and much calmer than the one we had two years ago in Clarity. After crossing Boca Grande Pass, I had to decide which side of Pine Island to navigate. I was already about as far west as I could get, and the wind was behind me, so I decided to go for another downwind run, and thank the planet for giving such nice following winds. This route is a little longer, and I doubt I’d ever take it if I was paddling, but it turned out to be a great sail, with a bunch of nice 2 or so foot seas that lent themselves to some great downwind surfing. As the darkness approached, the wind lightened, and I decided that stopping for a rest would be a good idea. I would finish my hot food, cook some more, and wait for moonrise to sail on towards the San Carlos Bridge.
As I approached Chino Key, the wind almost completely died, and I ghosted into an anchorage just off shore, in about 8 inches of water. There was a Gemini trimaran anchored nearby, but with my shallow draft, I easily anchored 100 yards closer to shore than they did. And they were only 110 yards from shore themselves! I ate, but had a bit left so I didn’t cook, grabbed a nylon tarp for cover, lit a candle lantern to warm myself with, as it was another very cool evening, and rested until moonlight came.
Around midnight or so, I felt I had enough moonlight to continue, and, having had enough of the raccoons wading out to investigate me and Discovery, I tidied ship and self, and set off towards San Carlos Bay. Or so I thought… the wind and tide conspired against me in such a way that for every 5 miles sailed, I made less than a mile of
progress. I couldn’t believe the flow of water coming in: my wake was leaving the boat at a 20 degree angle! Since I’m not just a sailor, but a holder of a Class A driver’s license, I took the opportunity to practice my best trucker/sailor language, which I did for quite a while. In the midst of all this, I sailed through the giant power poles south of Pine Island, being grateful that I waited for the moonlight before I headed that way. They are spaced quite a ways apart, but with the adverse tide, I had to cut a shallow angle between them. Not to mention that two long tacks later, they seemed just as close as before. Looking at the track later on, I decided that I just had to call it my ‘laugh track’ because it was so hilariously frustrating. After about 5 hours of this nonsense, and with a beautiful day appearing, I decided to land at Picnic Island off Sanibel and wait for the tide, the wind, or SOMETHING to change in my favor.
Picnic Island is a beautiful spot, with a sandbar and a protected lagoon. Just don’t take the dogleg into the last part of the lagoon, as the water there is dirty and stagnant, which surprised me a bit. It looked like I would have a bit of time before the current changed, so I pulled of the drysuit (now THAT was aromatic), and set out some gear for maintenance. The drybag for my Nexus 7 tablet was giving me a bit of trouble, so I opened it up and let it dry out over the bowsprit (even with desiccant, there was a bit of moisture in the bag, but only because the touch screen balked whenever the bag got dirty on the OUTSIDE, which led to me removing the unit fairly often). I finished my Feeding Children Everywhere rice and lentil meal, and made another for later, and then explored the island a bit, catnapped for half an hour, and then packed back up, ready to head off for the San Carlos Bridge, bay, and southward around Marco Island. I had hoped to make it around Marco before dark, but the adverse tide and wind had slowed me to the point where that wouldn’t be possible. If the wind held from the west, and didn’t build, it looked to me like I would make Marco about 8 or 9, and then I would decide if I could get around Cape Romano, or if I needed to stop. It was looking like I had about 12 hours of good wind before the next front came through, and the next front looked like it might be too strong for me to continue in open water, especially at night. I was going to have to pass the concrete mushroom dome ruins in the dark (Google Cape Romano and zoom in… you’ll see ‘em), but I was looking good.
Or so I thought. I didn’t know Picnic Islands’ name when I landed there, but, with its enticing lagoon and tropical trees, it should have been called Gilligan’s Island. At least for me, for I was about to have my own little three hour cruise, with no Ginger, Mary Ann, or anybody to share it with.
To be continued…
Here are some great photos and a nice writeup from WaterTriber Speck, who watched this years event through the lens of a camera, hence the Speck Tater moniker!
http://www.tropicalboating.com/2013/03/speck-taters-view-of-the-watertribe-2013-everglades-challenge
Also of note: Part 2 of my 2013 Everglades Challenge writeup will be posted within 24 hours.
