My adventure from east central Florida to Little Torch Key

[Joris]

Never too old for adventures
Before I bought my Albin 27 aft cabin trawler, I was given a free Jack Russell, and became good friends with his previous owner, a young guy who lived in Little Torch Key with his wife and son. This was back in early 2012. Several months later I was blessed to receive my retirement, and assuming I wouldn't live a lot longer, I took the lump sum, and decided to make my live aboard dream a reality. I'd been shopping for a sailboat for many years, but now my health was wearing down and I knew it would take a lot to do any solo sailing, so I began researching a good value in a solidly built and sturdy trawler, with a good reputation. That search brought me to Albin's.

I bought "Slow Motion" from a couple living in Oviedo, FL, and we became very good friends, and I still turn to them when I have any questions on the boat, since Jim, the previous owner, was extremely knowledgeable about this boat, and always gave me the right advice. I paid them in cash and they trailered her over and launched her aside Kennedy Point Yatch Club and Marina in south Titusville, FL, where I moved aboard and enjoyed the good life, a life I had dreamed of since I was a wee lad.

My friend in Little Torch tried relentlessly to push me into cruising down and staying there in Newfound Harbor next to Little Torch, so I did everything I had to do preparing for the journey, bought BoatUS towing insurance, and took the leap. I had never captained a boat bigger than a 35 foot Hunter, and that was only for a few hours. I had a lot of experience as a crew member aboard a longline swordfish trawler, many years ago, but nothing quite like this, so it was to be a challenge and test of my abilities, and I was determined to make it happen. I didn't want to go to my grave dreaming about it, and now there was no excuse. I had the boat, I had the Keys connection, just got my monthly check, nothing could stop me.

I can't say enough about chart plotters. When I was a kid, my dad had an old rum runner wood hull, 40 ft, and we went out along the Intracoastal often, and just about every trip, we ran aground. So, while I wasn't fully educated on the abilities of my chart plotter, I knew enough to get through the trip with minimal stress. Dutch was used to having a fenced yard to romp and chase squirrels in, so for him it was a whole new way of living. He did very well, but the 2 times he fell in caused me a great deal of stress. I had purchased a life jacket for him, but it was too big, and he just wiggled out of it, so it left me with a very uneasy feeling the entire time, especially when we got out in Biscayne Bay and further out in the Hawk Channel.

I loved it in the Keys, but living on the hook was too much. I had an 8 ft dinghy with an old 2hp outboard, and it just wasn't big enough or reliable enough to do the trick, so my friend came and got us in his Crosley skiff with 18hp motor each time, and that was a hassle for him. He eventually left the skiff with me so I could come and go as I pleased. The only time I even tried to use my dinghy was on the only night I'd stayed out past sunset. I lost track of the time, and when I realized it was dark out I thought about my anchor light not being on, and hurried to get to the dinghy and go to the boat. The weather was a littlle windy, so I worried about the harbor being rough.

When we emerged from the canal and got out in the open water it was pitch dark and rough as heck, waves around 4 ft, wind howling. The oars I'd purchased were too long, and the motor was making a noise that concerned me, and in very little time the engine just died. I could not get it to start again. I could not tell where my boat was, so I just had to guess. Dutch sensed my fears and stayed low in the dinghy (thank God), and I started rowing like mad, fighting the wind and waves. I must have rowed full strength for about half an hour before I realized I had just passed an outer island and was headed out to sea! I did a 180 degree turn and rowed harder toward the harbor. It seemed like I was just killing myself, my heart was pounding, my mind racing, and we were getting nowhere. My friend had given me a small anchor for my dinghy, but I had not yet fastened it to the boat. I imagined all sorts of things, like Dutch and I being swept out to sea, ending up in Cuba, or drowning along the way. The dinghy was a "Dink", and "unsinkable", but that wasn't enough to make me feel any safer. I had no clue which direction I was heading anymore, north, south, east, west, no idea whatsoever. After an hour or so of pulling oars, I finally just stopped, tied off the anchor, dropped it in, and took my cell phone out of it's waterproof case and called my friend, asking if he could come out and retrieve me. It was after midnight, and his wife was pretty bothered by my call. But I had been praying out loud since entering the harbor, and so far it seemed I was not letting my prayers be answered, because I was just so busy worrying.

He finally came around the island maybe 45 minutes later, spotted my flashlight waving, and got as close to me as he could, which was about a football field away, or 100 yards or so. He yelled for me to row to him, and I yelled back, "I can't, I'm about dead out here". He kept yelling the same thing, saying I was in the shallows and he couldn't get any closer. So with my last bit of energy, I rowed to him, and he got me to my boat. That night was when he decided to just let me use his skiff.

The only other really threatening event happened on my way back home. A friend of mine on his Gulfstar trawler was in Key Largo, and he came down to the Keys with me. He was going to head back to Merritt Island the same time I was, so we planned to meet up in the Gulf Stream and try to go back together, for safety. But I was doing it solo, and he had a small crew to spell him at the helm. Big difference. Huge. The morning I left there were squalls all over the place, but I felt sure I could make it through them. I steamed out into the Hawk Channel and kept heading east, thinking I'd find the Gulf Stream soon. Eight hours into it and no Gullf Stream, but depths were increasing. Finally, in 250 foot deep waters, I called my friend and told him I was exhausted and needed to find that damn stream soon or I'd have to head back in. He said he ran into a bad squall and was heading in, so in my frustrated and tired mind, I was cussing up a storm, and turned about and headed back in on a northwesterly heading that would bring me to Long Key Bight, an anchorage I had stayed at on the way down. I decided to just return the route I had used coming down... the Intracoastal Waterway.

I dropped the hook just feet from shore on the south side of the bridge there, and rowed ashore with Dutch so he could do his "business". We were right next to U.S. 1, but I slept like a dead fish through all the noise of semi's driving past. In the morning we ate and headed out. I decided, what the heck, let's try for the Stream again, it could cut our time north by a third. We got just a little way from shore, maybe a mile, if that, when an alarm sounded! Instant stress. I did a 180 degree turn and headed shoreward. I couldn't figure out what the alarm was for and imagined myself taking on water, so I really wanted to get as close to shore as possible, thinking the disaster might be lessened if she sank in shallow, rather than deep water, and salvage operations would be a better bet. I called Jim, the previous owner, and explained as the alarm kept buzzing loudly. My water temp was good, oil pressure seemed a little lower than usual, but opening the engine hatch was a problem because whenever I left the helm, she would start a turn to starboard and I just wanted to get to shallow waters. I told Jim I was worried she might sink, when he asked how the oil pressure looked. It was lower. He said to turn it off, so I did. I ran on deck and dropped anchor. I opened the hatch, and sure enough, there was a black line along the engine perch that indicated oil. I checked my oil and it was almost bone dry. After kicking myself in the derriere a while, I called BoatUS and waited for them to come tow me somewhere safe, and preferably north.

BoatUS is a great tow service. But in this instance the guy took me to Rock Harbor in Key Largo and left me in a very windy, unprotected area with no marina anywhere near me. He left me far enough from shore that I felt threatened just trying to row there, so I met a guy from the Dominican Republic who became my water taxi for $5 a ride. I'm a disabled veteran and at $5 a ride, my money ran out quickly. I was stuck in Rock Harbor for 5 days doing repairs and cleaning oil out of the bilge. Turned out the problem was a low oil pressure warning alarm sending unit, a part that cost under $5. But that part almost cost me an engine. I replaced it and over tightened the top nut and heard a "crack" sound, and knew right away I had broken the new part. I went back to the parts store, got another sending unit, back to the boat and installed it, this time easing the nut down to just snug. Added Rotella oil and left the next morning early through some very stormy conditions. Made it to Angelfish Creek, cut through to Pumpkin Key and dropped the hook. The trip from Pumpkin Key through Biscayne Bay was maddening, heavy seas and winds gusting, but we steamed through and made it to No Name Harbor by nightfall, where I discovered that one of my Caviness oars had left us. So now, if we were going to do any rowing, it would be by using the remaining oar as a paddle to get ashore. I was very broke now, and Dutch and I had spent the previous 2 days and nights eating coconuts that I was able to net as they passed the boat. I had enough fuel and no food or water aboard, but was determined to get home. Key Biscayne has some of the most rude wealthy people I've ever met in my life. I do not recommend stopping there for more than a night. No Name is a nice safe harbor, but if I ever go again I'll stay at Coconut Grove, like we did on the way down. Much nicer folks there.

That's the short version. The story has a lot more to it, but it looks like I've already written a small book here, so I'll end it now. Just wanted to share,especially for anyone considering taking an adventure cruise to points unknown. You can do it. Regardless of your age. If you have the will, and a decent, well designed and built boat, there is a way. Been thinking about Green Cove Springs as my next place of residence, but I need to research it more before making the move. Been living at Banana River Marina now for a couple of years, and really like it here. Besides, I have family in this area, so I'm safe and protected here, so for now this is where I'm staying. I wish the boat was larger, but to tell you the truth, it did far better going to the Keys and back than expected. I only had to have maybe 4 draw bridges opened for me to pass, since I have no fly bridge, and the shallow draft is wonderful... I could drop the hook so close to shore I could spit at an island and hit it. I have a ton of pictures of the journey if anyone would care to see them, I'd be happy to share them.

I wish you all the safest and most enjoyable journeys. These boats love being used. They will get you to your destination and back safely. I'll always recommend Albin's to anyone looking for a reputable, safe, and reliable cruiser.

[Mark Deeser]

Joris, great post, you packed a lot of adventures into one trip. Your experiences emphasizes what stout little boats we have. I for one would love to see your pictures. When we get our boat ready we plan on doing some shakedown trips around Florida this year, and hope to start the Great Loop next April. You mentioned a possible move to Green Cove Springs at some point in the future, what are you looking for in a home port? Thanks. mark.

[Joris]

Where I am now (Banana River Marina in Merritt Island) is home, and it suits me fine, being close to family, especially my son who lives in Cocoa Beach. But as far as a new "home port", not sure, really. I just enjoy the whole relocation thing, and Green Cove is a place I checked out via highways, liked the waterways there, and just the placid setting. Plus I would have access down the St John's, and the Intracoastal. Just seems like a good place to check out for a while. I also have 2 friends from here that left to go live there in their boats, so it would be fun seeing them again. One is an old veteran with a long white beard like myself. We had some great sessions here, philosophizing about a lot of deep stuff. There's a couple of people here now that think they're great thinkers, but they pale in their abilities next to this guy... he was like a wisened old sage on the hill. A guy you go to for good advice. I miss that back and forth digging into the depths of universal intellect, and finding new discoveries through the minds of other free thinkers. People that aren't burdened by the usual nonsense, politics, local news, propaganda, that sort of BS. It's kind of like taking a trip to another world, and the conversation can go much deeper than expected. So he's one reason Green Cove interests me. He lives on a trimaran he built... just incredible vessel, inside and out. Very cosmic dude. I need that kind of interaction, I think, to broaden the mind with exercises of deepening thought. I've wanted to write a book for years but something has held me down. Just life, I guess. I hope to find the right setting one day, after I win my case against the V.A. and life returns to something more manageable. It's late, and I'm rambling. Sorry for that. I've considered the Great Loop, too, but it might be a bit much until things get more aligned for me. Doing it solo is one thing, but I would prefer a mate to help with the wheel now and then. A pretty girl would be fun, but at 64 I'm not sure they'd look at me like they used to. Everything in it's own time, says I.

[Mark Deeser]

Joris, my refit seems to be be takeing longer than anticiapated, but don't they always. Picked up a nice dingy ( on sale ) at WM, need to get it set up like I want it, then hang it on back of boat. If I am able to finally reach a stopping point would like to pass by and say hi. Enjoy the journey, Mark

[Joris]

You're always welcome. Just ask for Joris, most folks here know me. Best of luck with your plans.