On both days we got underway a few minutes after seven but we dropped the anchor at 4:15 the first day and 3:00 the second. More miles in less time.
The ICW requires attention to detail and while we flew the small jib for speed, we could have profited from the larger genoa except that the wind was generally directly behind us so that the self tacking smaller head-sail gybed back and forth as minor wind changes and course variations took place. With the genoa such gybes would have been a major problem. One of the myriad beautiful homes we passed.
We also had to wait for three of the bridges to open because they open only on request but only on the hour and half, or at 15 and 45 minutes after the hour. I have written in large print on our paper charts whether each bridge is "High" or "Low" and if low, its name, (needed to hail it to request an opening) and what its schedule of openings is, or "on demand". But what I have yet to do is calculate the nautical miles between each pair of bridges with schedules so that we can regulate our speed to arrive "on time."
One cant get there late and early is bad too, because the current is sometimes trying to push you under the closed bridge. And I learned through experience yesterday that a 1:30 pm opening does not mean that the bridge will actually be open at 1:30. Rather, the whistle sounds then that the gates will be coming down and only after all the traffic has passed and the gates lowered does the bridge begin to slowly swing upwards. So our ability to pass will not occur until 1:35 and an additional five minutes of fighting the current has to be built in together with a five minute delay in starting toward the next bridge. I hope it does not sound like Im whining about the bridges; actually I write to give you a sense of the challenges we embrace.
I tried to rendezvous with Dave of the Harlem YC, who was visiting in the Deerfield Beach area but our plans were thwarted by a failure of communications. Lake Worth, Florida, is a city that appears on land maps. But the lake in question is quite long and our anchorage was in a cove at the extreme north end, in Palm Beach actually. This extra drive, the difficulty in finding a restaurant open on Christmas night and the problem of directing Dave to a parking spot near the dinghy dock of a place I had never been before all conspired to prevent the rendezvous. I changed the oil instead. And after a long day, we had a quiet evening aboard and did not lower the dinghy. I won at rummy and Lene won at casino, as usual.
The anchorage is quite large with many boats and room for many more. And it is surrounded by private residences including many high rises and a marina where mega yachts stay, like those in Antigua, St. Maartens and St. Barts, and, well, Fort Lauderdale. We are in the crowded wealthy part of Atlantic South Florida. Many of the people up the coast told us they felt that they had escaped from here.
(The only time I was ever in the Lake Worth anchorage before was briefly, aboard m/v Sea Leaf, in the spring of 2012. heading north, I had continued straight into the anchorage instead of making a left turn to continue up the ICW. All of the thousands of reds and greens that mark the ICW have a distinctive yellow square to distinguish them from non-ICW buoys, like those marking the channel into the anchorage. But I did not know that then. I sensed that something was wrong, however, and the captain confirmed it and we turned around.)
The next day we avoided about twenty bridges by going outside in the Atlantic from the Lake Worth Inlet to the Port Everglades (Fort Lauderdale) Inlet. One high bridge before transit through a busy commercial port on the way out and one low bridge with half hour openings on request at the other end, which we made without a significant wait. And once out, our course was essentially a straight line, an average of about .7 miles off the coast. Actually the coast here curves slightly to the west so we added a few degrees to the west as we got further south. At first the wind was from the west, not the north-northeast, as had been predicted. And then it was confused and near absent. But by nine a.m. the wind came in from the predicted direction and the apparent wind was a bit more east, about ten to twenty degrees aft of ILENEs port beam. We used full main and genoa; how long has it been since last we used them -- before Thanksgiving on the overnight passage to the St. Marys River. With apparent wind in the teens we were making better than seven knots, with autopilot steering.
We overtook one sailboat. It first appeared as a speck before us on the horizon. Soon it became apparent that it was a sailboat. Her mast kept getting taller as measured against the slot between the upper and lower rails of ILENEs bow pulpit. She was not even visible behind us when we turned in. We passed another sailboat being towed north by Sea Tow and I felt so sorry for him. We passed the condo where my parents lived in Pompano Beach. We passed four huge freighters anchored out at sea. The rain was mostly light but decreased visibility to the beach, though you can see it in the photo below.
But it was warm so the rain was not unpleasant, though it chased Lene and the paper charts below. If I do not look like a happy camper to you, your impression is mistaken.
Lots of big traffic in and out of Port Everglades. We saw this guy miles away, heading west toward the inlet as we came south.
Two of these funny looking rectangularish tugs came out to greet her and push her in just behind us, honking us further to the red side of the channel.
We hugged the eastern shore tightly going in and at mid tide saw no less than 7.8 feet of water during the entry. As soon as we were secured, on 50 feet of chain in eleven feet of water, the rain stopped and the drying process could begin. The cats began their mutual bathing ritual. We were the 17th boat in the lake, with room for more. (Sorry about this font.)
