Team Surona "Stop draggin my keel around"

Yes we are a little tired. After an oil change, a rudder compass swing and a new AIS unit we got under way. The guy at the dock said "No y'all don't have to travel all the way up to Carabelle to start your crossing. Y'all can go out into the Gulf right here". He told us to stay to the west of the marks you see and favour the greens on your way out and you'll be fine. All went well up until just before we entered the channel that leads out. When these people dredge the silt from the channels they leave what they call spoil, or the dredgings piled underwater along the sides. Following his directions we stayed west and upon entering the channel we located an underwater pile of sand. Luckily, we had experience in cultivating the ocean floor. This time no heed was taken as to possible deviations in the bottom. Cheryl is always saying "Go for it" so we were wide open and we hit the sand at a breathtaking 6.5 Knotts and momentum thrust the nose down, the back up and we slid over it like seasoned dozer operators.

We edged her out the channel and pointed her nose to Tarpon Springs, 150 nmiles away ATCF (as the crow flies).

We left the dock at Noon, and traveled the 10 miles to exit the channel at the barrier islands. After swinging the compass, pointed her east at about 2:00pm. Wind speed 10 knots with gusts to 15, south and east, off our front starboard quarter. With the engine we were able to average 6.8 knots (powersailing). ETA was to be 10 am.

For some reason swinging the compass failed to bring any positive results. It wouldn't work properly so we had to man handle her for the next 160 miles. We sailed 40 miles offshore with no landmarks on the horizon to steer by. It wasn't until the stars came out that navigation was made easier. We discovered that the flashing lights that went to the airport were unreliable. The real stars still moved as the night progressed.

We dined on a gourmet meal of canned beans under the stars.

During the afternoon we watched flying fish, porpoises, pelicans, and we were pleased that the buzzards that had followed us from Chicago were no where to be seen. We took turns sleeping and steering. Hour on and hour off with Peter doing most of the work. The waves were 1 to 2 feet which were pleasurable. In light of what we went through a couple of days ago this was a piece if cake. We had a half moon and a sky full of stars.

At one point it looked like torpedos were surrounding our boat. The porpoises had returned. Phosphorescent knives, sliced through the surface and under the boat. We were concerned about hurting them, but that was unnecessary.

Through the night we shared the helm, preparing for the upcoming daylight hours.

The entrance to Tarpon Springs poses a few challenges to the unfamiliar sailor. At the same time as we tried to understand our charts, the motor decided to lose RPM's. Top this off with a mine field of crab pots for as far as the eye can see. Stress? What stress? Stress has become a way of life.

I think the motor sucked up something bad out of the tank, but I will look at that tomorrow.

As we entered the channel into Tarpon Springs, the motor went into what seemed like a death spiral. I put the sail up in the hopes of coaxing her into the marina - 5 miles up the river. And somewhere, I am sure someone said "release the hounds" and 200 mad power boaters approached and overtook us.

To a boat sensitive to sucking up tank algae, tremendous wakes compound the agitation that we really weren't looking for. The motor died, the sail carried us, and one power boater slowed down. We coaxed the motor into running again and were able to arrive Tarpon Springs City Marine, where the pelicans are obviously on drugs. Few things look more stupid than a pelican on a post.

It's 4:15 p.m. Night. Night.

OK we'll go to Baypoint but just for one day!

After our busy day on the Gulf of Mexico we were in the mood for a little R&R from sailing. We were anchored at The Panama City Beach Marina where they raise the boats out of the water and keep them under little Quanset hut like roofs. (see pics). Another unusual thing they do here is around 4am they have someone hired to drive in reverse around the marina with their vehicle going "BEEP, BEEP,BEEP,BEEP...... They stop the odd time to lift something (maybe a Sherman tank) and slam it back to earth. I may have heard this the odd time at home and not known who did it. Now I know. After hearing this one night, I didn't feel like waiting for a second to see if this was some sort of tradition. We called over to our friends at Baypoint and asked if they had room at this Marina. Greg (who secretly wants to be a marina manager so his wife says) said c'mon right in. Leslie says call when you get close' they will instruct you.

We untied and started off to find this out of the way marina. As we started into this channel leading to the marina we had no idea that 20 other boats felt that this was a good time to come screaming towards us and past us from all sides, from behind and from ahead. No rules governed their behavior. My ADD picked this time to kick in and in the flurry of chaotic activity. I located a part of the channel where the length of my keel exceeded the depth of the water. Surona plowed to a halt in the middle of unleashed pandamonium. Having cultivated my share of sea bottoms in my time I was familiar with this activity. I calmly cut the wheel to the left and then to the right. We moved slightly ahead but it took a few minutes to aim the boat in the right direction. We needed deeper water but it is so deceiving, Its all flat on top! We met another friend who told us that in his experience sailing was what you did between groundings.

We eventually made it into Baypoint Marina. Once again here were the walls of white fiberglass. Yesterday some one was delivering a boat to a boat show in Orange Beach Alabama. They had just come across the Gulf from Clearwater in 20 hours in a boat they said will sell for just over two million dollars. Very pretty. I pictured myself running aground in that baby.

What a bunch of people. Everyone has time and everyone has stories. I expect to see George Woods standing here talking. If he ever came here he would never get away. It doesn't matter how big, how new or how little your boat is. Like I said I am into my third day here. I intended to stay one day. I just met a guy who intended to stay one day and a month later he is still here!

We are off to check out "Hunts" oyster bar. Someone lent us their car. They say they know Cliff from Meaford. Apparently at one time these people were going through the channel in Killarney when unbeknownst to them all their anchor chain came loose and paid out. He noticed the boat slowing down so he poured it on! He dragged the anchor and a couple hundred feet of chain until he came to a stop I think, somewhere around The Sportsman Inn. He tore up a waterline feeding George Island. So into every day a little rain must fall. These things happen.

Can't think of anything else to write about.

His boat name is Roy El. Maybe some one reading this has met them. If you did you wouldn't soon forget them.

Why does anyone need radar if they never intend to travel at night?

We spent a couple of days enjoying the town of Pennsacola. It was founded in 1559 by Spaniards originally. We walked a mile or so to a great Seafood Restaurant called the Crab Trap for Grouper Gumbo and the next night found us in Chili's For Ribs. We checked out the next afternoon and returned to Fort Mcrea to prepare for our 52 mile crossing to Panama City. Now it gets interesting.

We spent a quiet night after the jet activity quietened down. We got up at 7ish and we set out for Panama City Beach around 8 for a three hour tour.... a three hour tour or in our case, what we thought was a fifty two mile shot straight across the Gulf of Mexico. Around noon we hadn't progressed very far according to my charts. Greg, from Amalia said somebody told him it was around a hundred miles. I checked around noon and my chartplotter says 56 miles to go to the entrance to Panama City Harbor! It is still five miles more after you reach the entrance.

The weather started getting rough, the tiny ship was tossed. If not for the courage of the fearless crew...you know where this is going. The waves built to around six feet with the odd real wild one. They were striking us on the right rear corner and tossing the boat sideways so we were surfing down the waves and wallowing in the troughs. Winds were around 17 knots with gusts to 22. The boat as usual did a great job! We were bobbing around, sometimes surfing like a Hawian sometimes wallowing like a bar of Ivory. Not too bad but it makes for a long day.

Now somebody said you won't have any trouble if you just stay a mile off shore. That wasn't the straight line however so I ended up around 15 miles out at the furthest point. Cheryl remembered this one mile thing vividly as we bounced around.

We watched the sun set. As twilight became darkness we searched the inklike horizon. Still 8 miles to go to the entrance! The rule is NEVER enter an unfamiliar harbor after dark. I still don't know how Cheryl let this happen. We found lots of flashing lights. The question was which ones should we follow? Once we were able to make sense of which markers were which we got Surona pointed in the right direction. Now the waves were hitting us on our Port side! I found the whole day a little stressfull! The Radar guided us in and right up through the maze of Flashing lights to the Panama City Beach Marina. This morning I asked the Chartplotter "How far back to where we anchored last night"? Now it says 86.7 nautical miles. I guess we should have got up earlier!

My first mate stood up valiantly through the whole day. Secretly, I think she might have been holding back a few comments.

We may take a day or two at Baypoint Marina. Bad weather to come in on Tuesday. The next leg will take us outside again from Panama City to Port St. Joe.

From The spaceous salon of the sailing vessel Surona this is Peter and Cheryl signing off for today.

Mobile to Fort Mcrea to Pensacola (on the dock) at Palafox Pier

It took a little longer to put up the mast than it used to. I guess I am getting older. Up and down the mast a couple of times. Cheryl kept forgetting to remind me of the parts I needed.

Things were really humming around Dog River! About fifty trawlers (real ones) and shrimp boats and mussel fishermen were all over Mobile Bay. They were moving a mussel bed. Some type of reaction to the clearing up of the water in the bay. The water in the bay is getting cleaner so they can replace the old Mussel beds that were damaged by the oil spill. Though the water is all silty and muddy I haven't seen any sign of damage from oil or even any oil. The bay must be about 35 miles North to south and maybe 25 miles east to west at its widest point.

Silt over the last gazillion years has left the bay only about 6 to 9 feet deep all over with many areas less than 6 feet deep.

It was like sailing into another world as we entered the GIWW (Gulf Intracoastal Water Way). We hadn't gone two miles before the water became clearer and porpoises surfaced in the canal! We went about another twenty miles until we reached the site of old Fort Mcrea. This place was a small channel that was too shallow at the east end for us to go out. As we arrived four Blue Angel jets circled us. I have no idea how they knew I was even on my way there. Funny how important people just attract attention!

This was just around the corner from where we have to enter the Gulf of Mexico for a fifty-two mile run to Panama City. We didn't want to attempt this in the windy rainy weather we woke up to so we turned Surona North up into Pensacola Bay to wait for better weather. Rain is forecast for tomorrow but Thursday looks good.

Dog River, Showers and my mast!

The ceremony was short, sparsely attended but nonetheless dignified as the two little black buttons were pushed and Mini-me collapsed, slowly lowering the radar deflector and the Loopers flag to the deck where the saga of the valiant little mast whose one opportunity at greatness entered a cocoon like phase until once again low bridges make his rise to the occasion necessary. Minnie Me served well from Chicago to Mobile. A service any whisker pole would be proud to attempt.

The day before we had a welcome surprise as we looked back to see that "Amalia" had decided to accompany us to Dog River. I think that Greg's background in management may have told him these people shouldn't be left alone when attempting complex operations.

We found the big mast over beside the marsh grasses where it had spent the last 6 months. With the help of Cheryl, Greg Leslie and Mike we hoisted the mast and carried it to where we could work on it conveniently. The crane would arrive at 9:am the next morning so there was lots to do. I think I was carrying more weight than Cheryl but we won't go into that now.

The crane operator said that we shouldn't be surprised by the noise that is made if the mast slips in the strap. I nodded stupidly not knowing that he was yanking my chain. He suggested that we tie a secondary line down around the lower spreaders that would prevent this from happening. I thought "that will work". Everything went without a hitch. We felt so good we went to the Yacht Club for lunch and had some cold beers. Of course the beers made us old folks sleepy so we had to have a little nap. Greg showed genuine concern when he said "I hope this doesn't have a negative affect on Happy Hour".

So here I sit with todays blog finished and just some little things to finish up. We have to put the sails on, do some rigging tape on the spreaders and buy some charts of the Pensecola area. Then we just have to wait till the weather is right and we are on our way. We now have a mast that is too high (52ft overall) so we will not attempt any intercoastal waterway routes. Some bridges are only 50 ft.

Peter and Cheryl, Surona, Mini-me (retired), Greg Leslie and Amalia

Bates Lake to Mobile (54 miles following the river,92 miles after dodging logs)

We have invented a new short form for texting. LFL (looking for logs). This is the section of river that slows down as we near the ocean. All the debris that has come down the river from halfway up into Alabama settles here before it sinks or just floats over against the shore. No danger of boredom today as we weave our way back and forth across this minefield of logs, branches and some stuff that has started to grow in mats.

We asked one tow pushing 4 barges if we should pass him and he said ok so he slowed down a little and we started our pass which took a long time at 7 knots. We felt like the little train that could as we gained on him foot by foot. He called back on the radio "Is that all you got". I let Cheryl answer "yes". Not a comfortable thing for a man to admit. The day before I had asked a tow captan how many horsepower he was controlling. He said a measly 2,000 but earlier in his career he had driven them as high as 6,000 horsepower. I asked "What will you do when you retire, buy a boat"? He answered"Iam agoona set on my porch and watch the grass grow" nine days from today! We congratulated him and wished him well.

We entered Mobile Bay around 2pm and motored about five miles to the Convention Center where they let us tie up for free along the shoreline at the dock used for Cruise boats. A little bumpy due to traffic but not bad. Still no showers for 5 nights. I washed my feet in the toilet bowl. Cheryl said thanks. The boat is getting a little small.

This is our first taste of tide activity. Information for these is readily available on the internet. Yesterday afternoon was high tide and last night at around 4am was low tide. It rises and falls about 1.2 feet here. You can't tie up very snug if your water level is going to fall.

Today the mini me mast comes down at Dog River and tomorrow the bid guy goes back up! She is going to be a sailboat again!

Today we will be saying goodbye to our friends on Amalia. Just like those other Trawler people on Yesterdays Dream and Selah they make great travelling companions. Even though I am always having to slow down so they can keep up it is nice to meet people like these. None of them have seen the last of Surona. In the famous words of Steve Franco "You can run but you can't hide".

We are off to Dog River Marina it is 8:45 am.

Pete and Cheryl and Surona

Bates Landing

Well last night we were at Mile 100, Old Lock #1. If you started at Mobile you would be 100 miles up the river by now. We anchored at a nice place with lots of fishermen and a launch ramp. Skipper Bob says only 5 feet deep at the entrance. I marked 34ft. Either the Army Corps of Engineers have been working to clear the entrance or the high water in the river has cleared it all by itself. Stranger things have happened! The place we stayed two nights before (Bashie Creek) had a water level drop of around 3 feet overnight. In this anchorage the trees show evidence of water levels being 4ft higher than present. The dam at Coffeeville is supposed to lower us down 20 feet. It lowered us four feet. When these people tell you you are at high water they aren't kidding! We saw our first fridge washed up on shore today.

The alarm for temperature came on yesterday. We slowed down and it stopped but there was still steam coming out of the exhaust. I pulled over five miles downstream at Bobby's Fish camp and checked the strainer. I cleaned out a whole bunch of crap. After I put that all back together the same steam problem persisted so I reduced speed and limped along for twenty miles with little to no water going through the system. Hats off to Synthetic oil! I finally rafted up against "Amalia" in the anchorage and dismantled the through hull fitting. Sticks and plant life were competing for space in there. Little water was able to seep past the opening and subsequently the first 90 degree bend held debris that wouldn't go around the corner. At Demopolis the debris had formed mats almost thick enough to walk on or so it seemed. In order to get pumped out I had to sail straight into a huge patch of this crap. I got a run at it and coasted up to the dock. That worked but I think I sucked up a bunch when I tried to pull away. I got it all cleared out and the water shot up over a foot in the air. This morning the motor ran like a sewing machine. I see why Yanmar powers many hundreds of vessels.

Through the day yesterday we listened to some interesting conversations. One of them went like this when one large empty tow wanted to pass a slower loaded one. "How you wanna do this"?

"Ah think its lookin pretty good rahght heare"

"Tell u what....Ahm a goona get you some...lemme know. Ahh got some reverse, ahh got some neutral...lemme know

"Ahh think its ok now....juss eeese on pass"

"Ahh ahhpreciate it"

"Safe Trip"

In the anchorage I was accused of being a Yankee from Canada by a fisherman. I told him I had to come a little south just to go Hunting. Maybe its these people in this John Deere Trawler causin me trouble.

I have observed that you don't need teeth to fish in Alabama.

These people are great!

Gotta go...Happy hour!

Jim we are nearly in straakin distance of Mobile!

Pete and Cheryl "Surona" and "Amalia" and Greg and Leslie