Florida – The Voyages of Nine Lives

April 17th to May 2nd, 2025: Jacksonville to Hilton Head

Our first full day in Jacksonville was enjoyable. Dick set off early to collect the rental car, while I made apple cake in anticipation of visitors. Fellow gold Loopers Debbie and Steve dropped by to visit Nine Lives and share the apple cake.

Later in the morning the local harbor host came over to see if there was anything we needed. I chatted with him, but Dick was tied up with the lighting project and didn’t realize we had a visitor. I finished and published the next installment of the blog while Dick replaced the fluorescent light fixture in his bathroom. This was another electrical project that required 3 hands and a certain amount of adult language to complete. The bathroom is now exceptionally well lit!

Our dinner in the evening was at a French bistro, Restaurant Orsay. It was an enormous place, and at first it looked as though we would be seated in a very crowded, noisy place with tiny tables and uncomfortable looking chairs. However, our hostess led us through a rather dark concrete tunnel-like corridor (where the heck are we going!) past the kitchen, and out into a pleasant, spacious, and quiet area. We were also delighted to be seated at one of the larger tables.

The meal was mostly very good. I started with a smoked trout dip, served with interesting cornmeal biscuits. Dick ordered escargots, that came in puff pastry with a lovely mushroom sauce. I tried lobster pot pie for my main dish. The lobster was absolutely delicious, perfectly cooked, not tough as it can be sometimes, in a delicate sauce. The dish fell short because of roasted vegetables that were well overcooked. It may be an easy option, but it really is time to get rid of the fashion for roasting vegetables! Too often it is an excuse for using up produce that is past its prime, although that was not the case on this occasion, they were just burnt. The biscuit that served as the “pie” was a tasty traditional southern style biscuit, but the flavour was too intense, and it overcame the delicate lobster and sauce. I ignored the biscuit and enjoyed the dish with French bread instead.

There were several favourite offerings for Dick to choose from, but he decided on cassoulet, which he enjoyed.

The restaurant has a dedicated pastry chef on staff, and it showed. So often a meal is let down by mass-produced or frozen desserts. Here, one could choose a small version of several of the dessert offerings, so we decided to share 3. Dick’s favourite was a beautiful fruit tart, while I loved the raspberry mousse. We both liked the éclair, unusually presented with key lime filling and glaze instead of chocolate. It was a wonderful finish to an excellent evening.

Friday was a busy and interesting day. Dick set off for groceries in the morning. Shortly after noon we drove to Catty Shack Ranch Wildlife Sanctuary. Their mission is to rescue large cats that have been seized by law enforcement or are made homeless by zoos or private collections closing down. They have expanded to include other animals, and now have 2 bears and some coatimundi.

We enjoyed the visit, even though, as expected, most of the cats were sleeping as they do through most of the day. It is possible to attend the night-time feeding, so we may consider a future visit for that. These animals have spent their lives in captivity, some of them in terrible conditions, so they are used to being in enclosures. There is plenty of stimulation, including giant plastic balls, that given their scratched condition, are popular for playtime! The owner and volunteers get around in golf carts, and we were amused to see that if a golf cart stopped near an enclosure, the fast asleep kitty would immediately get up and come over to the fence, in anticipation of a little snack.

Even when the animals are elderly or infirm, they are looked after and provided with special ramps in their enclosures to allow them to enjoy a peaceful old age.

Elderly and infirm animals are well looked after and allowed to live out their years in comfort

In the evening, we went to La Cena Ristorante, a well-regarded Italian eatery. It was an odd experience. Reservations are only taken by phone, and the owner stresses the first of many rules, no young children, and no strong personal scents. A sign also repeats these requirements at the door. The whole first page of the menu sets out more rules in great detail. The rules are basically a push-back on the increasingly common practice of diners sharing just one appetizer and entrée. You can share an appetizer, but if you share an entrée, the upcharge will be the same as if 2 entrees are ordered. The same if you order a second appetizer instead of an entrée, you will be charged an entrée price. The whole meal must be ordered all at the same time. We fully understand why a restaurant may wish to make these policies, but we did notice that on a Friday evening, the venue was less than half full.

The meal was delicious, and we followed the proper Italian custom of a second, small pasta course between the appetizer and the entrée. A salad was included, as was the most delicious bread. As we arrived early for our reservation, the whole restaurant smelled heavenly. The bread is baked inhouse. In response to our compliments, a whole loaf was given to us to take home, just as we were wondering whether we dared ask if we could order a loaf to go

Saturday turned out to be a quiet day. After Dick completed the grocery shopping at a supermarket he had forgotten to visit the day before, I walked the docks in the marina and issued some invitations for docktails the next day. After that, it was very hot and humid, so we decided we would not do the afternoon outing we had planned. Either the heat or something I ate disagreed with me, so we also cancelled our dinner reservation for the evening. Dick’s wallet was happy for the reprieve, but we were both sorry to miss the venue – a steakhouse in a historic former bank building in downtown Jacksonville.

On Sunday we went for a short drive through some very attractive neighbourhoods near downtown. The housing is all different styles and sizes, at a guess, most date from between the wars. We also drove across the bridge over the Ortega River and through another attractive suburb. Here, the houses on the shoreline are much larger, many of them with imposing gates, while the homes further inland are smaller as the cross-streets get farther from the waterfront.

Late afternoon, we hosted docktails. There were just 5 of us, as we were competing with a marina pot-luck gathering. George joined us, he is a solo Looper from Texas. We enjoyed meeting him and sharing stories. It was great to spend time again with Sandy and Frank, and afterwards we went for pizza together. Their boat has just sold, and they are moving to a larger one with plans to go through the Panama Canal and up the West Coast. It is good news that higher-priced boats are still selling, gives us hope that Nine Lives will soon find a buyer.

Leaving the marina the next morning, we had to wait a few minutes for the railway bridge downtown. Then, as we passed the highway bridge, a gentleman in a waterfront high-rise took pictures and posted them on Nebo, wishing us safe travels.

East of downtown, the Saint Johns River is an industrial port. We met a huge vehicle carrier making its way upstream. Further downriver was an even bigger one, maneuvering into dock with no less than 3 port police boats hovering to direct other boat traffic if needed. Our timing was good, and their docking was completed before we got there.

The next excitement was two Coast Guard boats practising something, tearing back and forth, apparently chasing each other. The one doing most of the chasing had a gun in the bow. I decided that it would be prudent to take my pictures from inside the cockpit, rather than going out on deck as I usually do.

Coast Guard boats practising in Jacksonville Port

We are certainly back in the “Low Country”, with a lot of shallows and the channel meandering back and forth. We have to pay close attention to both charts. We passed the railway bridge, and the very narrow channel to one of the marinas on Amelia Island. In 2017, we tried multiple times to get into that channel with zero success. Although dredged, it was V-shape rather than U-shape, and Nine Lives with her two well-spaced hulls simply did not fit. It was our first really tough setback on our maiden voyage to bring Nine Lives round to Hilton Head. We had to continue on, into the inlet, and up the St Mary’s River with a small craft warning and very difficult dockage at the end. We shuddered as we passed that channel, which looks no better today than it did in January 2017!

We docked without incident in downtown Fernandina Beach, one of our favourite towns. As we enjoyed our early evening cocktail, we noticed a young woman with a skateboard. The docks here are only secured at night, and as we have seen in other places, it is a common thing for people to walk around and look at the boats. This young lady had the kind of skateboard with a large ball or wheel in the middle. Research suggests that they are highly controversial and quite dangerous. She was clearly wobbly, still learning how to use the board, and we wondered whether she and her skateboard were about to enjoy an unplanned swim. Sadly, it was a lot more serious. She hit the cover that goes across the dock (ironically, it’s there so people don’t trip on boat power cords and hoses), and she came off at speed onto the concrete dock. A nearby boater with medical training helped and medics were called. It was a reminder that NO wheeled vehicles of any kind should be ridden on docks.

A barge moves a dredge in Fernandina Beach. We called this the wedding cake barge!

We enjoyed a lovely walk around the town the next day. We bought some nice things, paused for a refreshing beverage at the famous (or infamous) Palace Saloon, and then we ate lunch in the form of some excellent ice cream. After that, a nap was required.

Fernandina Beach downtown from the marina

In the evening, we walked down a road with beautiful old homes to David’s, a restaurant we had visited a few years ago. It was a day early, but a lovely birthday dinner for me. There was even a candle on the dessert! We returned to a pretty sunset and enjoyed a postprandial glass of whiskey in the cockpit.

Bailey House, Fernandina Beach. Note the carousel horses on the porch.

Dick’s surf and turf was filet steak and a lobster tail

My surf and turf was filet steak and lobster risotto

A birthday candle on the dessert at David’s Restaurant

We left very late (after 11am) the next morning, because we only had a little over an hour to travel to St Marys. Even then, when we arrived our slip was occupied. They untied quickly and our docking was accomplished without drama. After we had time to settle in, the dockhand took us on a golf cart tour of the town. It was an interesting, and very opinionated tour!

In the 1700’s the Acadian diaspora took place in 3 waves, beginning in 1755. The British had been ceded what are today the Maritime provinces in Canada and some parts of Maine as part of the Treaty of Utrecht in 1713. Over the next years, some of the French residents at the time, the Acadians, participated in French military operations against the British. By 1755, if the Acadians refused to take an oath of allegiance, they were removed. Initially, they were sent to the 13 colonies, and the more troublesome the individuals, the farther south they were sent. 500 were sent to South Carolina, and 300 were sent to Georgia. Families were split up. Keep in mind that these would have been large, farming families, with grown sons and daughters. In some cases, women were sent to one place, fathers to another, and the children to a third destination. Some of the women are buried in the St Marys cemetery. What I found amazing when I researched the story was how determined the Acadians were. Many of them simply returned to their homes in Acadia, and were deported again. The second wave were sent to Britain and France, and even then, they took ship and tried to return. Many were shipwrecked or died from other causes. Ultimately, although none were sent to Louisiana by the British, it became a destination for the displaced Acadians, and they made their way there from the various places they had been sent. They became the Cajun people, and contributed to the rich heritage of Louisiana.

The land for laying out the town was purchased in 1787, and the City of St Marys was incorporated in 1802. It was the County Seat, twice, finally losing that status in 1923.

St Marys is the jumping-off point for visits to Cumberland Island. I have stayed in the very characterful Riverside Hotel twice. It was both eccentric and comfortable, and I am sure the dust on the stairs dated back to the 19th century! According to our guide, much of the commercial property in the town has been bought up by a billionaire. Most of the restaurants and shops are owned by him, although some are leased back to the previous owners. He built a huge marina (still partly under construction) to accommodate his 100-foot yacht. The docks appear to be fully functional, but there is no marina business there and no docked boats. We stayed at a small marina at the other side of town.

The town has always been quirky, and in the 8 or so years since I have been there, I saw definite improvements. We are told there is a huge housing tract of over 3000 homes about to be built nearby, but at the moment, there are no jobs or local industry. 20% of the current residents are below the poverty line. The nearby Kings Bay Submarine Base apparently does not provide much employment for outsiders, even though there are over 9000 people working there.

Orange Hall, a historic home in St Marys

We ate on board, then participated in a Loopers’ Zoom docktails session. We chose the “Misadventures on the Loop” section, and were able to regale the participants with several of our mis-judgements and “I told you so” stories. It was fun hearing other scary tales, although I suspect the lady who is just a few days into her Loop came away considerably more worried than amused.

We enjoyed a pleasant day in St Marys. The farm to market shop was a bit of a hike, so Dick took his exercise and came back with some interesting goodies. He also visited the small submarine museum. In the afternoon, we explored the shops. What looked like two similar home goods stores turned out to be something like an antique mall, but with lots of crafts and bric-a-brac as well.

We continued on to Locals Dockside, a waterfront seafood restaurant. We had a good meal with great service, perfectly cooked shrimp and fish, and piping hot fries. The side salads were very fresh and extremely generous in size.

Grilled seafood and vegetables at Locals Dockside

After the sun was low enough on the horizon to not be shining in our eyes, we sat in the cockpit for an evening whiskey. The Thermocell gadget was required, there were far too many no-see-ums! It did work well, so we will certainly be buying refills and using it on our balcony in Hilton Head.

In the morning, the bugs were impossible, so I had to give up my usual peaceful coffee hour in the cockpit. We wanted an early start anyway. The previous day, another large (Looper) boat had arrived and docked behind us, so getting out of the marina was going to be tricky, and best done at slack tide. For our landlubbers, that is the time when the tide changes, so the currents are at their least strength. We had about 10 feet in front of us for Dick to maneuver away from our berth. Good help from the dockmaster and his helper was needed to keep the stern and the dinghy from running into the dock, but it all went very well and we looked like pros!

We listened to the Coast Guard calling boats near the Amelia Island Inlet. There was a nuclear submarine about to enter the channel and make its way to Kings Bay Submarine Base. Several small boats were not paying attention and required multiple calls. When it became clear that the sub might be catching us up as we made our way past Cumberland Island, Dick speeded up so we didn’t have to heave to and wait, or possibly be asked to turn around.

Kings Bay Submarine Base is the largest construction project ever undertaken by the United States Navy. It was started in 1980, took 9 years to complete at a cost of $1.5 billion, and employs over 9000 people. As we passed, a gunboat eased out and hovered with its bow (and gun) pointing at us. Just making sure we were proceeding on our way and not getting any closer to the base. I did NOT step out on deck to take pictures!

As we arrived in St Andrew Sound we had wind opposing tide, giving us a roll on the bow. Dick cooperatively sped up for me. It didn’t really help with the motion, but it meant that it was only a few minutes before it was time to make the turn up the sound and the waves were off the stern. St Andrew Sound is one of several ugly inlets in this part of Georgia. It is wide and shallow, and shoaling means that you have to zigzag across rather than taking a direct route.

The channel that passes Jekyll Island is notoriously skinny, and we went through it at low tide. This may have been a misjudgement! After passing the marina and the public dock, both with extremely shallow water, even bare mud, on the land side, we came into a particularly shoaled section of the channel. Suddenly, Nine Lives was going uphill! We were in the mud. We were only slightly to the west of Bob’s Tracks, but for a few minutes it seemed as though we might run fully aground. We gently pushed through the mud, and eventually it got slightly easier and we were back in the channel.

Shallow water in Jekyll Creek. The inside of the dock is mud with just a few inches of water!

Bob’s Tracks is an app you can download to your charts. It is crowd-sourced, created by a number of boaters who travel back and forth along the ICW each year, and record their exact tracks. These are then combined to produce a single best recommended routing. Much of the time, the tracks are pretty much where the regular magenta line is, but it is in areas of continuous shoaling that it comes into its own. When we last passed through this area, there was no such app to help us. What’s more, we didn’t even have the contour features that are now part of Navionics on the chartplotter, nor did we have Aquamaps on our second, iPad-based charts. It has taken us a bit of adjustment to work out how I can best convey where we need to be for Dick at the helm. Bob’s Tracks are on my iPad, not the chartplotter that Dick has in front of him.

Later, Dick read the Waterway Guide advice for the Jekyll Island Creek. It says, “Do not go through Jekyll Creek at anything less than half tide rising.” We did it at dead-low tide, which was also a foot lower than normal because of spring tides! Might possibly have been a good idea to read that section before we arrived, rather than afterwards.

After that excitement, the rest of the journey to Brunswick went well and we docked without incident shortly after 1pm. Our friend Bob arrived to welcome us, just as we were adjusting the lines, so we roped him into helping (pun intended)! Later, we carried the makings of cheese and charcuterie across to their boat, because Asea is recovering from a mishap that resulted in a broken leg. It was great to spend time with them again. We always laugh a lot when we are together!

The next morning, Dick visited the farmers’ market, and then explored the town. The no-see-ums were impossible, so I stayed below and did some work on the blog and photoshop. This is not a good time of year to be living “outdoors” in the Low Country. When we are at home in Hilton Head in late spring, we stay inside.

Brunswick is a city with a somewhat checkered history. It was very prosperous in the mid to late 1800’s. During the mid-20th century some of the beautiful old buildings that remained from earlier, more prosperous times, were allowed to become derelict and were pulled down and replaced with mid-century modern establishments. The 14 fine leafy garden squares had nobody to save them, and roads were built through the middle of some of the ones that remained. Only 2 of the squares today retain their original size and shape.

One of the remaining squares in Brunswick

During WWII the Liberty Ships were built in Brunswick. There were steel hulled ships, 447 feet long, weighing 3500 tons. They served as cargo vessels and troop carriers. 99 were built for the U.S. Merchant Marines with the shipyard producing about 4 per month. In 1944, the Navy asked for 6 ships to be built, and the shipyard managed to build 7 of the vital ships in a single month.

Both Virginia and Georgia claim to have developed Brunswick Stew. It is traditionally a tomato-based stew with beans, vegetables, and originally small game meat such as squirrel or rabbit. Today it is usually made with chicken. Georgia’s claim includes the original stew pot! One story says that the stew was invented by a group of hunters. One man was left to look after the camp and make dinner. He was lazy, and simply threw all the ingredients into one pot. When the hunters returned, cold, and tired, a delicious stew was ready for them.

Today, Brunswick is a major seaport, one of two in Georgia, and its economy is mainly based on tourism and logistics. In the afternoon we walked into town to have a look around. There are a surprising number of restaurants, and it seems to be something of an antiques destination. Karen drove over from St Simons and joined us with Asea and Bob for dinner at Reid’s Apothecary. It was a great evening with good food and congenial company.

America Liberty, a 100-passenger cruise ship, was docked downtown. We saw her again later, passing us on the ICW when we were docked in Isle of Hope. As we approached the Highway 17 bridge, we could see the casino boat. Also, there were 3 car carriers docked in the South Brunswick River. It’s a busy port.

A barge collecting debris including derelict boats

Highway 17 bridge. We have see this from I-95, many times!

It was a long day, initially boring, but with areas of extreme shoaling where we had to pay close attention to the hazard warnings on the charts and follow Bob’s Tracks meticulously. In the charmingly named Old Teakettle Creek, we passed some markers that were high and dry with the spring low tide.

Markers high and dry on the ICW north of Brunswick

As we turned into Sapelo Sound, we could see whitecaps, so Dick decided to run fast until we were back into South Newport River. It was like stepping through a door – one minute it was very calm and very hot, and then we were in strong winds and cloudy skies to make me shiver. It even rained a little. Not enough, we decided, to need the windows rolling down. In hindsight, we should have rolled them down and swapped out the screen doors! As we entered St Catherine’s Sound, the waves got higher, and soon we were plunging up and down, and spray was coming over the bow like a giant green wave. Salt water came right over the cockpit and washed over me and everything on the starboard side of Nine Lives. Naturally, Dick was completely dry. As the huge waves crashed over the bow, Nine Lives slammed down into the troughs. Dick had already speeded up, and it helped somewhat, until it didn’t, and he had to slow down to keep control. Some waves threw us sideways. Fortunately, that part of the trip, although scary, nasty and wet, was short, and even as we made the turn into the Medway River, the waves were never quite broadside. As we made our way up the river, the waters gradually calmed, and we heaved a sigh of relief. This was probably our worst experience with waves, surpassing even our awful memories of the Neuse River from 2017. Our no-go criteria is 2-foot waves and 15 mph winds. This was 4-to-5-foot waves, and 20 to25 mph winds.

The excitement was not over. We were nearing the part of the river where we were to turn off, cruising in the centre of the channel as is prudent, with both charts showing 27 feet of depth. I looked over at the depth sounder, and said to Dick, “That’s odd.” That is one of the worst things you want to hear on a boat. The depth sounder was showing just 6 feet under us. Suddenly, we came to a juddering halt. Aground. Dick was right on it, and immediately put the engines into neutral. We were lucky, the high winds, and waves coming from behind, lifted us and we floated free. We can only conclude that the shoal marked on the charts has encroached far into the channel since the last time the Army Corps of Engineers passed this way.

After that, we were happy to have an easy docking with good help and the wind blowing us onto, rather than off, the dock. Once we were in, we could see the mess our adventure had made. Fortunately, we have good discipline and keep the cupboards latched, so nothing had fallen out inside the boat. The salt water that drenched the starboard side of Nine Lives came through the screens, which were quite dirty after weeks of travel. All of that dirt, plus the salt, was deposited on the windowsills, cushions, and even onto the back door, right up to the ceiling!

Salt water through the screens made everything filthy!

We ate at the rustic Sunbury Crab Company. We had been there once before (by car), so we knew that the food would be good. Great service, and a very chatty owner, made for a pleasant evening.

Commercial boats docked at Sunbury Crab Company

Queso and chicken wings at Sunbury Crab Company

There were heavy thunderstorms during the night, so everything was soaked in the morning. The side of the boat that faced the dock was coated with an amazing variety of insects. We debated whether the forecasted rain and wind was such that we should stay put for another day, but the next day was going to be even worse, albeit sunny. The no-see-ums buzzed around us as we untied and got underway. We timed our departure so that it would be slack tide when we got to St Catherine’s Sound. The plan worked, and the waves were not as bad as the previous afternoon. The period was also shorter, that is, the waves were closer together, so Nine Lives was not riding up and slamming down as she had the day before.

The next challenge was Ossabaw Sound, which is in two parts, joined by a channel called Hell Gate (really, even on the charts!) This is extremely narrow and shallow, and subject to wind tides. That means that a sustained wind can actually blow the water out of the channel. Fortunately, the wind was in the “right” direction, and we were still only a little after high tide, so the passage, much dreaded by Loopers, was uneventful. Once through Ossabaw Sound, the rest of the journey was pleasant and smooth, just the way we like it! We arrived at Isle of Hope Marina, our last stop on our Loop voyages, by 1pm.

There are incredible numbers and variety of bugs in this part of the world. Not only no-see-ums, which are as tiny and sneaky as the name implies, but also the large greenflies that give a very painful bite. Annoying, but fortunately not biting, are strange long-legged spider-like things, and of all the unexpected pests to find on a boat, grasshoppers!

The heat and the bugs kept us inside for most of the day on Isle of Hope, but we ventured out in the marina courtesy car to stock up on beer and to have a late lunch. The Driftaway Café has earned TripAdvisor’s highest accolades, and the food was certainly very good. The venue was decorated throughout by sea creatures painted on the walls and ceilings, and quirky tchotchkes. There were plants everywhere, and the decks and garden were lined with an amazing number of small pots with colourful flowers. Cleo, the customer support feline was dozing on one of the outside tables, waiting with the menu to greet the next diners.

Driftaway Cafe Customer Support Feline, Isle of Hope

The bugs were awful in the evening and first thing in the morning. We headed out at 9am for the final leg of our 8-year voyage.

We passed Thunderbolt Marina. Nine Lives will come here for new bottom paint and when a new buyer asks for a survey.

Crossing the busy ship channel of the Savannah River and going through the shallow Fields Cut were uneventful. We followed a gorgeous 100-ft yacht. Her name was the engaging, and slightly disrespectful Waddle We Do. As we came into Calibogue Sound we were surprised to see not one, but two cruise ships anchored off Harbour Town. One of them was American Liberty, who we first saw in Brunswick and again when she passed Isle of Hope. The other was American Eagle. Both are 100-passenger coastal cruising ships.

American Liberty anchored off Harbour Town, Hilton Head

We have never seen a Coast Guard boat towing an ATON before!

We arrived at the lock at Wexford, where we departed from in April 2018. Somehow the channel leading to the lock seemed narrower! Once in the lock, with only inches to spare on each side, Nine Lives looked huge! We were soon tied up on the guest dock, and had time to relax and watch the construction. Wexford is building a new, much larger harbour building and is also doing a major renovation to the clubhouse.

Nine Lives has returned to Wexford for a final visit

Later, I was able to join my bridge friends, even filled in for a hand, before the traditional wine and gossip afterwards. We spent a quiet evening (blessedly with many fewer no-see-ums) and woke to a pretty sunrise over the golf course.

Sunrise over the golf course and the harbour in Wexford

For the eagle-eyed, and mathematically inclined readers, you might notice a slight disconnect between some of our stated statistics. We collected Nine Lives in January of 2017, in St Petersburg. So we technically finished the Great Loop, and earned the gold burgee, this February when we passed under the bridge in Tampa Bay.

AGLCA awards the BaccaLOOPerate degree when we complete the Great Loop

In 2017, we spent a few weeks bringing Nine Lives to Hilton Head, where she was based in Wexford, behind our house, until April of 2018. During the summer of 2017, we went on a 3000-mile shake-down cruise (yes, 3000 miles, only Dick would call that a shake-down cruise). We went north, following the traditional route of the Great Loop, as far as Oswego on Lake Ontario and then returned. We had a decent boating resume before we bought Nine Lives, but we had never owned a large boat, and much of our most relevant experience was on sailboats and narrowboats. We did not know what we did not know! So we sailed off into the wild blue yonder, ever so slightly unprepared, but full of confidence. There were adventures and misadventures, and it was on this cruise that Tucker-cat decided that he is NOT a boat-cat, and prefers to remain on dry land. The following year, having added Nine Lives to the annual AGLCA fleet t-shirt, we set off on the first of our 7-year segments of the Great Loop.

Nine Lives leaving Wexford in April, 2017

To resume this year’s story, the next morning, Dick rode his bike to our friend’s house to retrieve his car, which he then parked at Palmetto Bay Marina. I spent the morning cleaning, including polishing the outside railings and cleaning the cockpit of accumulated salt grime. This was the day of our big party to celebrate Nine Lives and the completion of our epic journey. Perhaps it should be referred to as a pawty? Or, given that Nine Lives is a cat, we could talk about the purrrty.

Then there was nothing to do for a few hours, since the party was to be catered! In due course, a huge table arrived and was set on the dock. There was a certain amount of concern because there was a gusty wind blowing. We decided that drinks would be on the dock, and food on the boat. Five enormous trays of an amazing variety of hors d’oevres arrived next. Sausage rolls, quiche, cheese and charcuterie, shrimp, tiny flatbread slices, and a whole tray of beautiful macarons and fruit were spread out in the cockpit and downstairs in the salon.

We can certainly say that the party was a success. 37 people managed to fit themselves onto Nine Lives, spreading out between the cockpit, the salon, the foredeck, and even on the back platform. The food was excellent, and our serving helper kept the wine and beer flowing. Most of the guests had not been on Nine Lives before, so it gave them a chance to see what our floating home looks like.

Guests and food for the Nine Lives Pawty

In the morning, we took Nine Lives around the whole of Wexford Harbour for a last look at the lovely homes and gardens, and then out through the lock and the very short trip down Broad Creek to Palmetto Bay Marina. Nine Lives will stay there until she finds a new owner to take her on new adventures.

A Green Heron welcomed Nine Lives to Palmetto Bay Marina

As the helpful dockmaster assisted with our arrival and tying up, he commented, on seeing the gold burgee, that we were finishing the Great Loop, and he made the assumption that we had taken the usual one year and travelled the traditional 6,000 miles. We explained that in fact it had been 8 years and 20,000 miles, and his exclamation was “Did you get lost?” So yes, we got lost by seeing all but one of the Great Lakes, by going up the Mississippi, by venturing up the Ohio, the Monongahela, and the Cumberland Rivers, and this winter by following the Gulf Coast all the way around the Florida Keys. And let’s not forget, we also went through Lake Champlain and the Chambly Canal, followed by the Rideau. We visited places that most Loopers don’t see, including Lake Huron and Detroit, Cleveland, Sault Ste Marie, Minneapolis St Paul, Cincinnati and Pittsburgh, and Nashville. And all the wonderful small towns in between.

This is the close of the Nine Lives Voyages story. We anticipate that soon Nine Lives will sail off into the sunset with new crew, who are sure to love her as much as we do. There will be new adventures, and perhaps she will revisit many of the places that she has been with us. Thank you to all of you who have been with us on this journey. I am continually surprised and so grateful to hear that people are reading this story.

Our friends Sherry and Shel gave us this lovely plaque to celebrate our Great Loop

We are going to do other things, travel more and farther, visit friends far and wide, play some golf, and take some time to enjoy all that Hilton Head has to offer. One of the party guests left us some advice, that is entirely apropos:

Advice from a Sea Turtle

Swim with the current

Be a good navigator

Stay calm under pressure

Be well travelled

Think long term

Age gracefully

Spend time at the beach!

March 19th to April 1st, 2025: Florida Keys to Stuart

Our first full day in Stock Island was busy with laundry, getting the blog out, and as usual, Dick did some exploration. He returned from his walk with a box of huge croissants – American size, but authentic, from a bakery run by a French expat. Dick also scouted the route to the pizza restaurant we planned to walk to for dinner.

It was finally cooler and less humid (although that did not last long), but still more than I would have preferred to walk just over a mile in the sun. Stock Island is the industrial centre for Key West, with a large military presence. The housing is functional and uninteresting, and the rest is mostly industrial parks.

A Navy jet flies over the marina on Stock Island

The restaurant was very busy. We started with very nice breaded and fried mozzarella pieces with marinara sauce. Dick’s pizza was excellent, very hot and clearly just out of the oven. Mine had been sitting for a while and it was just warm. I expected that it would be tasty when reheated (sadly, it wasn’t). T-shirts worn by most of the staff proclaimed “Legalize Marinara”. Amusing, but misread by more than one person reviewing the restaurant. At the bar the next day, the T-shirts read, “Write drunk, edit sober”, a quote attributed to Hemingway, but in fact he never said that, quite the opposite.

The walk back to the marina was more pleasant after sunset, and we paused to watch a pickup game of soccer. The players were all very serious and competitive, but there were no angry words or behaviour, and no need for a referee, everyone was there to have fun.

Once at the marina, we paused to admire an unusual powercat, a Maine Cat. As we were pointing out the interesting features, the owners arrived and we had a lovely chat. They have only had it for 3 months and are still doing a lot of needed repairs and upgrades. Only about 8 of these were ever made.

Boat chores the next day, finishing the laundry for me, and Dick replaced the latch on the back door. He did a “temporary” repair a few years ago, replacing the spring. It was obviously a good job, because it lasted for years. The spring was still good, but the rest of the latch had simply worn out. The other project was replacing one of the small fans that are used to keep air circulating inside when AC is not needed. These fail regularly, so we keep replacements. They are a pain to install, requiring a certain amount of colourful language and at least 3 hands before the job is completed.

In the afternoon, we went over to the hotel bar, looking forward to the live music and a light supper. The music was truly awful. The woman took songs from our era, and mashed the melody and timing until they were completely unrecognizable unless you knew the words. Every song sounded exactly the same. It was so awful that we changed our plan and went to the restaurant inside the hotel. Different menu, but the food was fine.

A cocktail to expunge the memory of the awful music on Stock Island

We were signed up for AGLCA “Virtual Docktails” at 7pm. Dick joined the chat about catamarans, while I participated in the “Ladies on the Loop” group. It was a mixed group of future Loopers, a few in progress, and only two of us completed. I was very pleased that several of the ladies commented on our podcast on Segment Looping, saying how much they enjoyed it and how useful it was.

The next “outside” voyage was to Marathon. We ran fast, 15 knots, again, so it took just over 3 hours, but it was quite unpleasant. The swells were on the starboard quarter, and we had the rolling corkscrew effect, even though we were running fast.

On arrival at the marina, we went first to the fuel dock for a pump out and some diesel. Not the worst dockhand ever, but for sure in the top 5 (or would that be the bottom 5?) Dick was filling with fuel, so he was busy and the dockhand did the pump out. He seemed to think it was a big deal and implied that there should be an extra tip. He wouldn’t take the cloth Dick used to prevent diesel spill, instead he sent me around to the hazmat bin at the back of the building. His advice on the length of the finger pier at our slip was incorrect, so we backed in and tying up was a challenge, with no help and the cleats in the wrong places. About an hour after we were finally set, Dick got a phone call from the marina to ask when we expected to arrive!

Dick went to the airport to collect the rental car. On his return, his comment was, “What a crap place!” After a drive the next day to explore the area and about 20 miles south, I had to agree. We finished the excursion with a stop at West Marine for another cabin fan, and Publix for a few groceries.

On our arrival back at the boat, we had a near tragedy. As Dick was handing me the groceries from the cart, the cardboard handle on the box of beer broke, and the whole carton went splash! into the water. Dick quickly jumped aboard and grabbed the boathook, then (prudently) handed me his phone before stepping down to the bottom of the swim platform. Disaster was averted as the boathook brought the carton near enough to get hold of. Plus, Dick did not, on this occasion, take an unplanned swim. The whole episode was watched with great interest by the elderly couple on the sailing cat next to us. In fact, the lady reached for and was ready with their boathook just as Dick completed the retrieval. I was not sure whether she was expecting to use her boathook to rescue the beer, or Dick.

Marathon appears to be a mixture of apparently nice hotel complexes, government offices, medical facilities, cheap eateries, and industrial units. None are vacant or broken down, but the whole impression is one of ugly practicality with no thought to civic pride or beautification. Only the government and hospital buildings have any lawns or plantings apart from the hotel complexes. Boaters rush through Florida’s Panhandle and west coast with its charming towns and stunning beaches in order to get here and spend two months in a marina at double the dockage fees. Go figure.

Dinner was at one of the highly rated local restaurants. The starters were interesting and very tasty, if far too large for one person. I have noticed lately that the price of appetizers is increasing to the point that it is pushing the entrees. Probably because so many people share these days, and complain if the portion is not big enough for 2 or even 4 people. I found the main course disappointing, although Dick’s duck was very good. Mine was very much “home cooking” with mashed potatoes and gravy. If I wanted home cooking, we would have it at home. For a change, bread service and a side salad were included in the meals.

Escargot and portabella mushrooms at Barracuda Grill

Dick enjoyed the duck at Barracuda Grill

We did the “Keys” thing the next day, and just relaxed on the boat. In the evening, we headed over to the Hilton resort for dinner. The décor was, quite frankly, weird. The gardens had huge bright blue balls as pots for palms and large shrubs. The small, battery-operated table lights fall into the category of “what were they thinking?”. The food, while better than the previous evening, had some odd ingredients and combinations, as if the chef was trying too hard to be avant garde. Given the clientele eating at the other tables, mostly vacationing families, it was all very strange.

Table lights, best described as “unfortunate”

Faro Blanco Marina. The pelican does not care about the No Fishing sign!

In the morning, I noticed a rather oddly dressed young man on the sailing cat next to us. He had not been there when the boat arrived. He was wearing a Robin Hood hat, complete with feather. Shortly, he reappeared with another man and the captain of the boat. Apparently, one of the jib sails was stuck and could not unfurl. The young Robin Hood climbed up to the top of the mast, and was able to fix a shackle that had become twisted. He did not remove his hat. He did the whole operation with great confidence, but the impression was rather spoiled when I heard him ask his colleague to take a picture of him at the top of the mast so he could show it to his Mum.

We went for a Sunday drive, north this time. Miles and miles of nothing much except bridges linking keys that progressed to the 1960’s and stopped. Eventually, we got as far as Islamorada, a slightly more salubrious island, but still very much a land that time forgot. We had lunch at the highly rated and long-established Green Turtle Inn. It was very busy, and the food was pretty good. The bartender, a middle-aged lady, was dressed in a black t-shirt. When she came around the bar, we could see that the rest of her ensemble was a brilliant blue net ballerina’s tutu, and light blue knee socks.

There were four Looper boats on the other dock that night, for a total of at least 6 in the marina, but no attempt was made to get together for docktails. In fact, while we have received notice of several MTOA (Marina Trawler Owners Association) gatherings arranged in the last few weeks in Marathon, there has been nothing from Loopers, in spite of large numbers in town. Just another example of how different things are since we began in 2017.

As we sat enjoying the sunset, we chatted with our slip neighbours, 3 friends on a break on a sailing cat, from Pensacola. Later, the couple who owned the beautiful 75-foot Fleming that had arrived late in the marina, came by and we chatted. They had just joined AGLCA and are planning to do the Loop (in a smaller boat) in 3 years when their children finish high school. They are interested in power cats, so we enjoyed showing them Nine Lives and exchanging boating stories. I can’t imagine that downsizing from a 75-foot yacht to a 44-foot catamaran is going to work for them, so I hope they find another option.

After a quiet day we joined Beth and Calvin and another Looper couple at the onsite restaurant for dinner.

We planned an early start, but it was nearly 8:30 before we were underway. As we sorted out power cords, water hose, boarding ladder, and lines, we were eaten alive by no-see-ums. One more reason never to return to the Keys! In fact, that fairly brief experience has convinced both of us that we will forego the delights of the planned St Johns River side trip. Although it is reportedly a wildlife paradise, even its most ardent fans warn that the mosquitoes and no-see-ums are terrible. Thermocell and insect repellants can only do so much, and neither of us are willing to put up with small biting insects at the best of times.

We ran fast part of the way to Key Largo, then normal speed for the last hour. We were at the fuel dock by 12:30, unfortunately, just missing the dockhand who had left for lunch. We sat watching the boats coming and going from the fish market. The channel leading to the marina and the fish market is both narrow and winding, and most boats make a securite call before entering the channel, as there is not enough room for larger boats to pass each other. It is also quite shallow, although Nine Lives had no problem. When we finally got to our slip, we were greeted by a manatee! They really do look like a clay sculpture that is just being started. We knew they like fresh water, so Dick got his water bottle and poured. It seemed to be appreciated!

The narrow, and shallow, channel into the marina at Key Largo

A drink of water for our manatee visitor

We were next to a houseboat liveaboard. They had at least 4 cats, each of whom felt it necessary to sit in a window and pretend not to look at us. We spent a quiet evening with Dick’s great burgers for dinner.

One of the cats in the houseboat on the next slip, pretending not to watch us

We made an early start the next morning for a fairly long step to Fort Lauderdale. We began fast, getting to the Miami Ship Channel before noon. The weather was forecasted to kick up considerably in the afternoon, and, to be honest, travelling “outside” is very boring. The only interest is watching for crab pots and adjusting for wakes as fast cruisers go by. The forecast was correct, and we could hear a small craft warning broadcast by the Coast Guard.

Miami was fascinating, and since it was not a weekend, there were very few yahoo boaters about. We only needed 1 bridge opening, and were lucky to get there just in time, as it opens on a half hourly schedule. The rest of the bridges were high enough for Nine Lives to pass through the centre, although Dick had to lower the antennas for one of them. We enjoyed overhearing a highly amusing dispute between a bridge tender and a powercat. The lady wanted an opening, and the bridge tender said she was low enough to go through without an opening. There is a posted $1000. fine for demanding an opening if you have not lowered antennas. The discussion became heated, with the lady demanding “Just open the bridge!” and the attendant responding “We will see”. Eventually, the bridge opened for a sailboat. You can be sure that the other bridge tenders will have heard the discussion, noted the name of the boat, and will delay them as long as possible for every opening!

We passed the beautiful sailing cruise ship Sea Cloud Spirit. She will make her last cruise this year before having a refit to become a charter yacht.

One of the bridges with the sign promising a $1000 fine for asking for an unnecessary opening.

We arrived at the marina associated with the Hilton at Port Everglades by mid-afternoon. By this time, it had become clear that Dick’s hope to tie up for 2 nights on the Riverwalk downtown was not going to work out, so he increased our stay at the Hilton from 1 to 3 nights.

Fort Lauderdale’s Port Everglades is a cruise ship terminal with nearly 4 million cruise ship passengers travelling through per year. The city of Fort Lauderdale is known as the “Venice of America”, with 165 miles of inland waterways across the city. It also considers itself the yachting capital of the world, with over 50,000 registered yachts and 100 marinas. My thought is that if the many yachts of all sizes that are registered elsewhere (Caymans, Bermuda, Panama, etc) were included, the numbers would be a lot higher.

In the 1830’s there was a settlement of just 70 people, living along the New River. An attack on one of the farms by a band of Seminoles resulted in all the farmers fleeing as far south as Key West, and the settlement was abandoned. The area was essentially unpopulated until the 1890’s. Completion of the Florida East Coast Railroad was a significant improvement, and the city began to be developed. It was incorporated in 1911. I am continually reminded of just how young this country really is, compared to Europe and Asia. Our house in Yorkshire was built in the early 1800’s, years before much of this country was settled by the white man.

We walked to a nearby waterfront eatery, Boatyard Restaurant. It was a huge venue, and noisy as so many Florida eateries seem to be. Once again, we were seated beside a table with a loudmouth. The food was good, and by the end of the meal we had heard all about the salesman’s exceptional security software, although I gather it still has a number of bugs that need to be worked out but they are releasing it anyway.

Surf and turf, parmesan fries, and paella at Boatyard Restaurant

Key lime baked Alaska at Boatyard Restaurant

The weather continued to be unseasonably hot and humid.

Our favourite boat tracking app stopped working, for us and most other Loopers, following an update. In typical tech-guy fashion, users were blamed for the problems they were having. Instructions were given (and followed) with no resolution for 2 days. Eventually the tech department admitted there was a problem and released another update.

We spent an interesting and enjoyable afternoon in Fort Lauderdale. There is a hop-on-hop-off water taxi that takes you all over the city, and conveniently stops right outside the Hilton. We started with the stop at the Las Olas shopping area and Riverwalk. It was fun to look around the various art galleries, including the one where we bought our beautiful metal print that hangs in the salon on Nine Lives. We also found some lovely and unusual salad servers made from shells and horn. I’m going to have to start serving salads again!

A vending machine dispensing champagne instead of soft drinks in a Las Olas coffee shop

Next, we took the free, tiny water taxi that goes further up the river. It was interesting to see that there were a number of vacant spaces where we could presumably have tied up. However, since there is a reservation system (the one we could not access), there would be no way of knowing whether you would get kicked out of the space at some point. Also, the dockage is on the far side of the river, so not particularly convenient for the shops and restaurants. I would have had major concerns about security, although Dick would not have worried. He never does.

We arrived very early for our dinner at an Italian restaurant. The food was excellent. It was interesting that after so many packed restaurants, this one was nearly empty, even at 6pm. It was a nice change to be able to converse without shouting, although the selection of background music (I can only describe it as make-out music) was so intrusive that Dick asked if it could be turned down.

Branzino and lobster ravioli at It! Restaurant

We had a window table that offered great people watching. The number of women walking their designer dogs by carrying them was fascinating. Clearly, the concept of “exercise” is understood, but not for the dogs. The next day we watched a man walking a much larger dog, some sort of doodle, by holding the leash up so that only the dog’s back legs were actually on the ground. Of course, everyone has earbuds and is listening to music or talking on their phones.

After dinner, we got back onto the water taxi and took it all the way to the farthest stop and back. Looking at the multi-million-dollar houses was interesting. It would seem that $35 million will get you a nice waterfront property. There are some really beautiful older mansions from the early 20th century, but a surprising number are bought purely for the lot, and are pulled down and a modern glass and concrete structure is put up. One of these apparently cost $35 million to build, and then the owners parked their $35 million yacht in front, completely obscuring their view of the water.

A beautiful classic home in Fort Lauderdale

From left to right, an older single storey home, a modern mansion, and a now vacant lot about to begin construction, a common sight on the Fort Lauderdale waterways.

There are so many of these 100-foot plus yachts in the city. I wonder how many of them even go out, or are they all dock queens? Apparently, you can charter one, with crew and staff, for $345,000 per week. One also wonders how many of these actually get chartered.

Coral Ridge Yacht Club, only owners with yachts over 60 feet in length need apply for membership.

As the sun set, we could see how many of the waterfront properties were occupied. Fewer than half, although we thought that a higher percentage of the smaller homes that are a little farther out had lights on inside.

After a quiet day (Dick rode his bike to Fresh Market), we set off at 5:30 to have dinner at a nearby Indian restaurant. First, we stopped at an International Wine and Food market that I had found on google. We expected that they might have maybe 1 aisle of imported canned goods, and we hoped to find the tiny pickled sweet peppers that make a great addition to any cheese and charcuterie board. What a treasure trove there was! They had our pepper drops, but also an amazing variety of fascinating goods. We have limited storage on the boat, but we still find space for a variety of interesting and unusual items. I have never seen so many choices of pastry cups, as well as chocolate dessert cups in so many sizes. They had balsamic pearls, which are a lovely addition to a composed salad, and also pearls of other flavours, including simple olive oil, garlic oil, and truffle oil. There was even raspberry, and we failed to resist buying that one as well as the balsamic. There were also fridges and freezers full of unusual foods, but we had to limit ourselves to a couple of packages of charcuterie meats.

The evening continued to go well as we arrived at the Indian restaurant. We don’t normally order starters in this type of restaurant, but we tried some crisp battered and fried prawns, and some spicy fried cauliflower, both of which were delicious. Our main course dishes (lamb chops masala and shrimp rogan josh) were also excellent. Only the dal (lentil stew) was a mistake. It was tasty, but far too liquid for our preference. After an amazing feast we waddled back to the boat and enjoyed a quiet evening.

Dal, lamb chops, and prawns with naan bread and steamed rice at Indian Harbor Restaurant

The next day we were only going a couple of miles, so we planned a late start for 11am. As we were getting ready, 2 Sea Tow boats arrived to remove the sailboat in the slip beside us. It would have been interesting to watch, but our departure certainly made everything easier for them. Apparently, the sailboat was supposed to have left a week earlier (and presumably the owner had stopped paying for the slip). It is interesting how quickly a marina is permitted to have a boat towed away, compared to how long it takes for a derelict boat at anchor to be allowed to be removed.

Our arrival at Bahia Mar Marina was not our best docking effort. We were assigned a slip beside another boat, and between a strong wind (small craft warning for the area), and a tidal current, plus backing in, it was a bit of a shambles. It was made a lot worse by a dockhand who was worse than clueless. As they often do, he refused to cleat the midships line tight, so we drifted into the boat beside us. Fortunately, the owners were not on board to notice when we nudged them, and no harm was done.

In the afternoon, a plane went past with a banner, XIARA. WILL YOU MARRY ME? (not sure why someone thought a period was required after the name). Another plane advertised a place with a “full liquor bar” Saturdays and Sundays. Interesting juxtaposition. Next, we saw a panel truck with full LED screens on all sides advertising a nightlife establishment. It was followed a few minutes later by another truck advertising medical screening. The third one offered fruit juice, and the fourth suggested you try a local strip joint.

I noticed on the plan that our next stop was only one night, and with plans to eat on board. When asked why, Dick answered that he just wants to get out of this “stupid rich” area. Given what we have seen on the water and walking around, the adjective fits, however you interpret it.

We planned a mid-afternoon meal at Coconuts, a Fort Lauderdale institution, according to our water taxi guide the previous day. Unfortunately, the time that the heavy rain and thunderstorms were supposed to stop kept moving later and later. Eventually, we would have been fighting the crowds and standing in line, and with no certainty that we would not get wet on the walk back, so we gave up on the idea and stayed on board.

Loopers who had been in two previous marinas at the same time, but we had not met them, arrived in the middle of the heaviest storms. They had planned to take a mooring ball, but all the floats on the pennants were missing. They were able to get a slip in the marina. Later, they dropped by for a chat and to hear about Hilton Head Island. We hope to coincide with them again as we head north.

We managed a fairly early start and enjoyed a delightful day travelling up the ICW (Intracoastal Waterway). We loved looking at all the interesting houses. We had to ask for openings for 6 of the bridges, but the timing worked very well, and we were never held up for more than a few minutes.

A bridge opens for us in Fort Lauderdale

Remember When, an Endeavour Skylounge in Boynton Beach. We met them in 2017 on the Alligator River in North Carolina, and again at the marina in Stock Island.

At Palm Beach, we passed a certain well-known mansion and exclusive golf club. Fortunately, the owner was not in residence, as when he is, one of the bridges across the ICW has limited or no openings, so that “visiting dignitaries” are not impeded as they access Palm Beach.

We arrived at Palm Harbor Marina and had a somewhat tricky docking, due to maximum tidal current and a windy day. Two dockhands showed up to help, but it was a bit chaotic.

Shortly after our arrival, a 62-foot Princess yacht arrived and backed into the slip beside us. As he was arriving, an army of cleaners (four) came bustling down the dock with an amazing assortment of cleaning equipment. Two hours later, they gathered up their paraphernalia and headed off, leaving a show-ready boat behind.

Dick had decided at the last minute that we would have dinner out after all. There is a well-known Italian restaurant next to the marina (although the sheer size of the marina meant a ¼ mile walk!) It was a great evening. We loved the retro style of the huge venue, and, for a change, even though the place was full and with a line of hopeful diners waiting to be seated, it was not so noisy that you had to shout, you could actually have a normal conversation with your dinner companion. I started with a delicious skewer of grilled shrimp, and Dick’s grilled calamari was also excellent. The mushroom and pepperoni pizza I ordered was one of the 5 best I have ever eaten. I usually eat half and take home half, but it was so amazing that only one slice remained for taking away. Dick had a most interesting pasta dish with a ragu sauce, meatballs, and an surprising variety of different shapes of short pasta, all in the same dish. Dessert was out of the question for me, but I enjoyed a chocolate laced cappuccino, while Dick rounded out his meal with a scoop of excellent gelato.

Pizza and pasta at Elizabetta’s Ristorante

We were lucky to fit the excursion in between thunderstorms. The rain began again just minutes after our return. On a hot and humid evening, the last thing you want to do is wear waterproof jackets! Dick has just seen a news item that temperatures in Florida are approaching record highs in advance of a cold front expected next week. Bring on the cold I say!

One would think that a marina designed for 60-foot yachts up to mega-yachts would be easy for a little (!!) 44-footer to get into and out of. Not so. Basically, the cleats are all in the wrong places, making it all but impossible to close-tie for the initial arrival and for departure.

I noticed that this marina has far more security than we have ever seen before. There is a guard at the parking lot gate. There are the expected key card gates for each dock, but also 24-hour roving security guards. As we arrived, I could see a police boat patrolling up and down the area. Clearly, the rich are different. The slips in the marina are smallest at the north end, and each dock has larger slips as you move south. The most distant yachts in the picture will be the largest. I looked it up, and the suggestion is that a superyacht is over 100 feet in length, and a mega-yacht will exceed 200 feet. We have seen a great many superyachts in the last couple of weeks, and quite a few mega-yachts. They are often flying a foreign flag and show a hailing port of Georgetown (Cayman Islands) or elsewhere. There will need to be special permits, and probably they will have to leave the USA after a certain amount of time, and can then return, but when you are wealthy enough to own and crew a mega-yacht, you can easily send it to another destination, without having to go yourself, as it will have full-time crew.

Palm Harbor Marina in West Palm Beach. The yacht beside Nine Lives in the second row is 62 feet long. Superyachts and mega-yachts in the back rows.

In the morning, the bridge opened for one of the biggest sailing cats I have ever seen. She had a pilot boat in front, with a red flashing light, much as a wide load has an escort on the highway.

We congratulated ourselves on getting an early start, but then we had to hold up and wait while a cargo ship arrived from the Lake Worth Inlet. It was fascinating to watch. He turned completely around in the channel and backed into the wharf. Nearby is a beautiful old property that Florida Power and Light has turned into a manatee eco-discovery centre. A great use of a lovely building that, being next to a gas-fired power plant, would otherwise be uninhabitable.

A freighter turned fully around to back into the slip (left side of the image) in the ICW channel at Lake Worth Inlet.

We enjoyed passing Jupiter Island, with its large lots, and beautifully landscaped and secluded houses. Interesting, while many of the houses are large, they do not seem to be the sprawling mansions that we saw further south. This is probably an area that we would like to live in (except for having to live in Florida). There is also the minor detail that some of the wealthiest individuals in the United States make Jupiter Island their home, so it is unlikely we could come close to affording it! Tiger Woods’ estate is there, but not visible from the ICW. Other notable residents include several other well-known golfers, Serena Williams, Celene Dion, Alan Jackson, and various members of the Bush family. On second thought, while we love the look of the properties, we would most certainly not fit in with that community! North of Jupiter, the properties are more modest, with fewer large yachts, although there is evidence that even there, smaller homes have been torn down to make room for big mansions.

This is not the first time we have noticed that the boat is as big as the house. No view from the expensive waterfront property.

Osprey on the nest in the St Lucie River. Note that the speed limit in the narrow, shallow, channel is 25 mph. There are many shoals, and a big wake could easily knock you out of the channel.

Travelling up the wide and very shallow St Lucie River was interesting, can’t imagine what it would be like on a weekend as fast boats go whipping by at speed. The voyage finished with an exciting set of bridges. Heading west, you first pass under the highway bridge, with a fairly narrow space between the pylons. Then there is a relatively small basin, that was already full of smaller boats and one sportfish, waiting for the railway bridge to go up. This track used to serve only freight, and the bridge was up most of the time. With the introduction of the Brightline, an east coast Florida passenger service, with about 18 trains per day, this bridge is now down more often than not. Behind the rail bridge is a road bridge, with a bridge tender, that has to be raised for all but the smallest boats. Fortunately, the bridge tender was very clued in, and the passage through the two bridges was smooth for us. Behind us was a huge 80-foot power cat, and the bridge tender did a great job, holding up the oncoming boat traffic to give him room to get through the narrow openings.

Looking back at the 3 bridges at Stuart. Note how little space there is for the big cat to get through the highway bridge pylons, even less at the railway bridge!

We are again with the big boys in a huge marina, but not quite as enormous as our slip neighbours of the previous few stops. We chatted briefly with the owner of a big Hatteras, after I noticed that he was flying a burgee that depicted a lighthouse that looks remarkably like the one in Harbour Town, Hilton Head. He confirmed that it is, and told us that the boat is generally in Shelter Cove most summers. We agreed how much we like Hilton Head, particularly the miles of safe bike paths!

Dinner was a mixed bag. We started with the best spinach, crab, and artichoke dip we have ever tasted. I wanted to order some to take away and keep in the freezer, but Dick vetoed the idea. The main courses were disappointing, basically, they lacked flavour and particularly salt. We realized too late that we should have taken our slip neighbour’s advice and ordered sushi.

After dinner we strolled around the charming town. There are lots of little boutiques and restaurants. However, most of the boutiques are beachwear type ladies’ shops, and the couple of art galleries were just not interesting enough to walk over there in the heat and humidity when they would be open. Instead, we will stick with Plan A, and Dick will ride his bike for groceries and other errands while I do a minimal laundry and finish this issue of Nine Lives Voyages. The weather is going to continue to be unseasonably hot and humid, getting warmer over the next week. The humidity is at 90%.

Stuart calls itself the Sailfish Capital of the World

Nine Lives Voyages during the month of March

February 3rd to 17th, 2025: Port St Joe to Tampa

We rented an unexpectedly large Penske truck to bring our stuff and the bikes back to Port St Joe. It was an uneventful drive, although somewhat longer than anticipated. We arrived and turned on the fridges and freezers and put away the perishables. Checked into the hotel and then went to Joe Mamas for outstanding pizzas. The hotel is brand new and was very nice for a quick overnight stay.

Everything that we carried home in our own vehicle plus the bikes fitted into a very small part of the large truck

After a MacDonald’s breakfast, we started the unpacking, but Dick spent the day working on the bathroom plumbing problem. He had ordered various parts (these are obsolete, so hard to source), from an RV supplier, but some did not arrive, or were substituted. Multiple trips by bike to the local plumbing supply house, and all-day efforts ended with a leak problem that was much worse than before, so the whole bathroom; sink, toilet, shower, and laundry, were unusable, and a bucket was required to catch the drips. I got on the phone and began phoning plumbers. The one that Dick had consulted in January was unavailable for 2 weeks despite assurances at that time that he could fix it in a day. It took several conversations before I struck lucky and had a highly recommended (by other plumbers) very helpful gentleman committed to come out the next day.

Before the repair. The grey fittings are obsolete and were leaking (hence the bowl to catch the drips).

Dick works on the plumbing. He spent at least two full days, possibly three, trying to fix it. And that does not include all the time he spent earlier, before we left the boat in December!

This is why we have a “plan”, not a schedule. We made the decision to wait and leave for Apalachicola on Thursday, thus allowing plenty of time for the plumber. Dinner that evening was at Keepers Bistro, probably best to just draw a line under that one. The food was acceptable, but too many substitutions and not enough staff suggest that they may not last too long as a business.

Dick left at 8am the next day to return the truck to Panama City, and was back by 10, much better timing than originally expected, because he was able to get an Uber right away. The plumber was somewhat later than planned due to heavy fog, but he did a great job. He completely replaced the faulty manifold with current standard fittings, and everything now works perfectly and no leaks! He also fixed the wobbly kitchen tap. That was an easy fix, but it required a special tool that Dick (surprisingly) does not have in his arsenal.

The extra night in Port St Joe meant that we could have dinner at the White Marlin. This was an outstanding meal, one of the best this voyage. The lobster tacos were fantastic. More of a crepe than a taco, with delicious lobster claw meat and a maque choux accompaniment. Dick enjoyed a perfectly prepared steak, and I had sliced beef filet on fettucine noodles with cognac sauce. Desserts were a perfect finish to a wonderful meal.

White Marlin sliced filet with pasta and cognac sauce

We made a very late start on Thursday, as it was a short trip, and we allowed time for the morning fog to lift. On arrival in Apalachicola, there were a few moments of confusion, when one of the charts put our intended dock at a narrow part of the channel and nowhere near the area Dick was expecting. All became clear when I found a new, post-hurricane, marker on the chart in exactly the right place and with good reviews attached. The consensus was that the location is unequaled, but that $2 per foot is outrageous for dockage with no water or power. It was also a tricky dock with large pilings and a very big gap to jump across to get off the boat. No problem for Dick, but I was not happy. As the dock is in a waterfront park, we had something of an audience for the docking maneuver, and I imagine some of the onlookers were amused at me trying to reach around the hefty piling to get the line around and back to the boat. Eventually I had to sort of toss it and hope it actually went around far enough that I could grab it.

The location really was fantastic, right in the middle of the charming town. We walked all around in a couple of hours, popping into interesting little galleries. Dinner was at a restaurant just a block from the boat. After the previous evening’s exceptional meal, this rather suffered in comparison, but Dick enjoyed his alligator bites to start. He offered some to me to try, “tastes just like chicken”, but my position is that I don’t eat reptiles (or apex predators for that matter). The restaurant was in a lovely old building, with original ceilings, brickwork, and floors. Apparently, this building had been many things during its time, including a house of ill repute.

Today, a small, sleepy, tourist town, there was a time when Apalachicola was a thriving business centre. In 1860, the town sent a memorial to Congress, advising that they had in that year done $14,000,000 worth of business, more than all other areas of the state put together. An extravagant claim indeed! In the early years of the town, it was a centre for receiving and shipping cotton. The cotton came down the rivers from inland farms by steamboat, and was then weighed and compressed into shipping bales. After enough was stockpiled in warehouses, it was sold and shipped overseas. By 1836, Apalachicola was the third largest cotton port on the Gulf of Mexico. In time, as happened elsewhere, the challenges of river shipping meant that the cotton business was taken over by the railroads, and the cotton era ended for the town. Lumber came next, but it took a few years, and then the sponge industry became important. By 1879, there were 16 small schooners in the sponge fleet. The schooners went out for a month at a time. Each one carried a few small dinghies, that were worked by two men, who used sponge glasses to view the sea floor. These were wooden boxes, often worn around the neck, with a glass bottom, that when put on the surface of the water, allowed a view of the sea bottom. The sponges were then brought up with a long handled, three-pronged iron hook, and taken on board the schooner to be sold later on the wharf to a sponge dealer from New York. In 1900 there was a worldwide demand for Florida sponges, but within 3 years, the market had collapsed. Today, the industry has started again, and is being operated in various ports on the Gulf, including Tarpon Springs.

We waited until after 11am for the morning fog to lift, and even then it closed in again as soon as we got into the bay and radar was required to see other boats and a dredge. The late start allowed time to prepare the chicken for the slow cooker for dinner. We saw more dolphins in the calm bay than we have seen for years. Some of them seem to enjoy swimming alongside the boat for a spell.

After passing Upper North, another Looper who Dick had chatted with on the dock before leaving, we arrived in Carrabelle. Their fuel price was the lowest we have seen this boating season, so we decided to top up the tanks. Upper North arrived, and we invited them to join us later for docktails. We enjoyed the evening very much, and hope to meet again along the route.

After a quiet night, I took my coffee up to my usual spot in the cockpit, and began to catch up with news and emails. I felt a small nip on my ankle, followed by itching. Soon after, another, and I became aware of a small insect flying around. Noseeums had arrived! Time to get out the Thermacell gadget that we had bought on recommendation of several Loopers at the Rendezvous. It took a bit of figuring out (starting with how the heck are you supposed to get into the box?) but eventually I got it started and within the promised 15 minutes there were tiny carcasses all over the once clean cockpit. Definitely a great product to deal with small biting insects.

Our subscribed personal forecast for the Gulf crossing arrived, and everything was go for our 4pm planned start. Fog was expected at various times during the 20+ hour crossing, but winds and waves were predicted to be the best we could ever hope for. I took the precaution of emailing 3 friends to ask them to set the Coast Guard in motion if we failed to appear in Tarpon Springs on time. “You have my full attention” said one, “We’ve got you covered” said the second, and the third downloaded the NEBO app and worked out how to see our position.

Dick researched how to set the horn for the periodic blasts required for boating in fog. While he figured it out, he asked me to step out and go to the bow of Nine Lives to listen. On the step outside the door, I found a generous pile of scat and a couple of incriminating footprints. Research showed that we had been visited by a raccoon! Since the masked bandits have history of getting into Looping boats while the occupants are sleeping, we were very glad that possible rain in the forecast had ensured that we had closed all of the hatches overnight. The marina owner confirmed my raccoon identification and also mentioned that they routinely see bears swimming up and down the river. While I would love to see a bear, a close, personal visit on our swim step would not be welcome.

Dick’s next research project was how to set the autopilot for a direct line to our destination. We do not normally use the autopilot with what are called waypoints, instead we use it to steer and we follow the route we want on the chartplotter. Using autopilot on open water ensures that you stay on the correct heading, regardless of wind or waves pushing the boat off course. With no channel markers or land masses for reference, this is a required feature for our crossing. Armchair sailors may scoff, and point out that Christopher Columbus did not use autopilot (or even a chartplotter) but I will remind them that he was looking for a passage to India, with a distinct lack of success. We will take advantage of any and all technological advancements available to us.

The voyage started out somewhat less salubrious than I had been led to expect. Waves were on the starboard quarter, so not on the beam, but not on the bow either. This meant we had an unpleasant corkscrew roll for about the first quarter of the trip. Finally, it smoothed out. The nearly full moon was very bright. When it set, it became very large at the horizon and turned the colour of a new penny. Once it set, we truly understood the expression “darkest before the dawn”. Sunrise brought the fog. Dick set the horn sounding every 2 minutes, and we could only see a very short distance in front of the boat. Although we did not have a “buddy boat” to talk to, it was comforting to hear the Coastguard broadcasts on the radio, albeit completely static and unintelligible until we were about 30 minutes from shore. I went below and slept for an hour, but Dick mostly stayed awake, allowing himself to doze off briefly, a couple of times while we were both on watch.

Last sight of land as we head out across the Gulf

We saw our first crab pot float at about 8 miles out. Fortunately, the fog lifted enough that we could see and maneuver around them. It was important to pay attention and avoid them, but it was not nearly as difficult as we had been led to believe. We wonder whether those Loopers who have trouble are the same ones who use autopilot with waypoints and so are not steering with the same attention. Dick had set the destination, and that gave us a line to steer to, but we retained full control of the steering during the entire crossing. We enjoyed seeing pods of dolphins, and there were also large areas where big fish were roiling the waters. They were never close enough to identify, but research suggests that they were probably mullet.

Eventually we reached the cut into Saint Joseph Sound, and made our way through the very narrow channels to Anclote River and Tarpon Springs. It was interesting to have to reverse in and tie up “Med style” in the marina, because the finger pier was so short that we could not use the ladder to get off the boat. The floating docks were in a good position to use the swim steps. It was also a challenge to get a line around a tall piling near the bow, but I managed the first one, and later Dick used the boat hook and I tossed a bow line to get a second line around the piling.

Nap time. We had a much-needed four-hour sleep, and after showers we were awake enough to enjoy the evening at a local Greek restaurant with Julian and Candace. We hadn’t seen Julian since 2018, so it was a wonderful reunion and chance to catch up.

Dick ordered grilled octopus at Hellas Restaurant in Tarpon Springs

Late afternoon Monday we hosted docktails with our slip neighbours. Two couples from Looper boats plus one from a sailboat gathered for cheese, sausage, and conversation. Our sailing neighbour brought over some of his home-made mead to try. It was quite amazing, not sweet, very clear and delicious. Joseph told us all about how he makes it, a very precise and time consuming process. Altogether, it was a delightful couple of hours with a very interesting and diverse group of people.

We walked to Tarpon Springs second “downtown” area for dinner. The food was good, some dishes quite unusual, including the fried burrata in a tomato sauce. Dick enjoyed his red snapper, and I had an interesting pasta dish.

The next morning, Dick checked the weather as usual, and realized that to avoid some strong winds and heavy seas we should leave Tarpon Springs a day earlier than planned.

We took an hour to walk along the main street and check out a few spice and food shops. As you walk, touts push brochures for local restaurants at you and offer dolphin watching boat trips and excursions to the beaches for shelling. It reminded me very much of some of the Greek and Turkish towns we visited when we went sailing with Mum and Dad. Tarpon Springs is a working fishing port. At a seafood shop on the commercial docks, we bought some frozen local shrimp and some interesting smoked cheese.

Everything you could possibly need to cook seafood

Tarpon Springs was settled by farmers and fishermen around 1876. In the 1880’s the area was developed as a resort for wealthy northerners to spend the winters. The town also became a centre for the sponge business. In the 1890’s, Greek immigrants began to arrive to work in sponge operations, and by the early 1900’s the industry became one of the most important maritime businesses in Florida, generating millions of dollars a year. In 1947, the sponge fields were wiped out by a red tide, and the fishermen turned to shrimping for their livelihood. The sponges recovered, and in the 1980’s, a disease killed Mediterranean sponges, and the local industry experienced a revival. The Greek heritage of the town is celebrated, and over 10% of the town’s residents are of Greek ancestry.

Tarpon Springs is a working fishing port

A charming group of sculptures occupies the centre of the traffic circle

The marina manager was kind enough not to charge us for the night we were not staying, and Clearwater confirmed availability for the extra night. We were out by 11:30, with a relatively short passage to Clearwater, made much slower by no-wake zones and narrow, winding channels. We surely know that we are now in Florida, the land of exceptionally rude boaters. Both pleasure boaters and commercial tour boats threw huge wakes as they crisscrossed the channel, so we rocked and rolled our way out to Saint Joseph Sound.

We arrived at Clearwater and were tied up by 2:30. I have never seen as much bird life in a downtown marina. Snowy Egrets, Great Egrets, pelicans, grackles, and even a blackbird perched and sang on our railing.

The marina is right downtown, with a large park and an outdoor music venue on the waterfront. We would just miss a concert by Willie Nelson. Coachman Park is huge, and it is clear that much effort has been spent on recovery from the hurricanes. It is popular for walking and cycling, and there is a splash park and playground that makes one wish they were a child again!

There was a large catamaran docked next to us. In the afternoon a group of people boarded and they went out for a short cruise. I noted that the captain had trouble getting off the dock, coming far too close to Nine Lives and having to back up and start over to avoid running into us. When he returned, we both went out onto the dock to help catch lines, as courteous boaters do. The owner had tremendous difficulty getting close enough for his passengers to throw lines. Eventually some marina workers arrived and managed to coach him in. Dick continued to help with tying up. There was no acknowledgement at the time, but a couple of days later the owner was back, and he introduced himself and thanked Dick for his help. He told us that this is the first big boat he has owned, so it is taking some time to get used to handling it, especially in the admittedly tricky swirling water under the bridge where he is docked. He is sporting a Looper burgee, and told me that he would be heading out on Monday on the Great Loop. He has been delayed in his plans because their house was trashed in the hurricane, as were so many in this area.

In the evening, we took an Uber across the causeway and had dinner at SeaGuini. We were fascinated by the beautiful menus, that featured a modern acrylic semi-abstract fish on the front. The style, colours, and texture were reminiscent of some of my Mum’s acrylic ink paintings. We shared a cheese and charcuterie board, that looked attractive, but had some issues. Mainly, it was the crackers, just 4 very hard flatbreads and some breadsticks, an entirely inadequate quantity, and unsuitable for the cheese and meat. What they thought we should do with large piles of whole grain mustard and fig jam with so few crackers I do not know. We ordered some focaccia, which was delicious but was surprisingly expensive. The rest of the meal was very good. Dick’s choice was pasta Bolognese and I had penne alla vodka with shrimp. Dessert was a tiny individual cheesecake, rather small for a sharing dish!

SeaGuini penne alla vodka with grilled shrimp

The next morning, as I sat with my coffee, I heard the sound of thrusters, and saw that the large motor yacht that had docked on the other side of the marina, under the bridge, was coming across to dock behind us. Dick got out onto the dock to catch the lines. It was very difficult, with both wind and current causing problems in controlling the boat. Eventually, the captain pointed straight at the dock, and his crew tossed a line to Dick, which he quickly cleated tight. That allowed the captain to use it as a spring to turn the boat alongside. It was a tricky maneuver and well executed. The guy thanked Dick for his help, then, and again the next day.

Dick helps with a tricky docking maneuver

Apparently, Tom Cruise lives in the apartment block that we could see from our dock. He is very involved with the Church of Scientology, which has a large, multi-building campus right there. We were surprised to learn from Zillow that a condo in the building, of similar size to ours in Hilton Head, sells for quite a bit less than ours. Perhaps having a big movie star as a neighbour is not particularly desirable, or possibly the large Church presence in the area is off-putting.

Downtown Clearwater. Tom Cruise lives in the penthouse of the shorter condo block in the centre of the picture.

Two days were spent cleaning and “decluttering” Nine Lives for the photography for her listing. Although we intend to continue the voyage until we return to Hilton Head Island in April/May, it may be that someone will want to make an offer subject to a survey in May. Decluttering is an awful word. It implies both untidiness (which we are not) and having a lot of unnecessary possessions. Nine Lives is kept tidy, but anyone who has spent more than a few days in a small space like a boat, knows that not everything can be put away out of sight. Anyway, this exercise meant taking 2 carts full of our things off the boat, plus the bikes, and hiding them around the corner of the dock so they didn’t show up in the video. I polished surfaces that I had never seen before (quite a few useful books and other items were left on board for us by agreement with the seller). Nine Lives sparkled after our cleaning efforts at the Rendezvous in the fall, but today she is positively blinding!

Michael, our broker, seemed pleased, and we are now sporting For Sale signs when the marinas we stop at allow them to be displayed. After all the work, we were happy for a night spent on board with leftovers for supper.

Our trip to Tampa started out fine, passing interesting houses of all sizes and styles.

Once we got out into Tampa Bay, it got lumpy. I had planned to take a picture of the marker as we crossed our wake, but there was far too much motion to step outside the cockpit. It was quite a momentous few minutes anyway. Crossing your wake means returning to the place where you started the Great Loop. For us, this was just past the Sunshine Skyway Bridge that crosses Tampa Bay. Here is the notice of our wake crossing:

Nine Lives Has Crossed Her Wake

Dick and Louise crossed their wake on their Endeavour TrawlerCat 44 Nine Lives in Tampa Bay on February 15th, just over 8 years after heading out from St Petersburg in January 2017.

In that time, we travelled 17,168 statute miles, bought 9,397 gallons of fuel, transited 423 locks, and were underway for 2,183 hours, averaging 4 months of cruising per year. We made lots of side trips and followed several alternatives to the conventional Loop route.

We saw all of the Erie Canal, Lake Champlain, the Thousand Islands, the Rideau Canal and the Trent Severn (twice). We spent time on each of the Great Lakes except Superior, enjoying both sides of Lake Michigan and Green Bay, the Canadian side of Lake Huron, Lake St Clair, and the US side of Lake Erie. Nine Lives travelled north on the Mississippi to Minneapolis and then back to Pickwick Lake one summer, followed the next summer by a trip up the Ohio to Pittsburgh and beyond to Morgantown. The Cumberland River to Nashville and beyond was one of many highlights that year, as was the Tennessee River to Knoxville this past autumn.

On the journey we met many charming Harbor Hosts, and enjoyed docktails with Loopers from every fleet from 2017 through 2025. We are looking forward to a few more months on Nine Lives, heading south to the Keys and then north to finish our voyages at our home port of Hilton Head Island.

Continuing across Tampa Bay, we could see several sailing races in the distance. As we got into the middle of the Bay, we found ourselves caught in the middle of one of the races. Sailing vessels have the right of way unless they are using their engines, plus we would never want to interfere with a race, so Dick made a couple of turns to get out of the way. It turned out that we were right at the buoy where they were making their turn. We realized that they were now heading directly towards us, and were putting up spinnakers (making them a lot faster), so Dick sensibly decided to put the throttles down and “get out of Dodge”!

They made their turns and were heading quickly towards us!

Harbour Island as we approach downtown Tampa

By the middle of the Bay, the waves were nearly broadside, so we speeded up again. This always smooths out the ride, so we ran fast until we were well within the channel leading to downtown Tampa. The marina at the Convention Center is relatively small, and has no services apart from electricity and water, but the floating docks are sturdy with adequate cleats. A kind young man interrupted his lunch to catch our lines as we came in. I was particularly grateful, because the docks are very low to the waterline, and I would have found it tricky to catch a cleat. Being in front of the Convention Center, right on the Riverwalk, means great people watching and lots of choices of restaurants close by.

Seddon Channel and Harbour Island. Note the cruise ship heading into Tampa Bay in the distance.

Dinner at Harpoon Harry’s Crab House was about as expected. Dick enjoyed conch fritters, and helped me finish a very nice spinach and artichoke dip. I chose fried shrimp for a main course, and Dick had an excellent seafood risotto. The venue was incredibly noisy, and the waitress was very busy. The hard wooden benches in the booth we sat in were so high that my feet did not touch the floor, so it was very uncomfortable, although something of a change from all the times that the seats are low and the tables high!

Harpoon Harry’s spinach and artichoke dip

Nine Lives is sitting on a dock with 4 large motor yachts. There is no security (a sign slung across the gangway that says Private is hardly a deterrent), but the area is well lit, and I console myself that anyone with theft on their minds would target the larger, and clearly unoccupied, yachts first.

Our first full day was occupied with laundry, and cooking an interesting version of shepherd’s pie in the slow cooker. Dick took a walk and explored the local area.

The next day we discovered too late that there are golf cart tours of the old town, so we contented ourselves with a walk along the waterfront and later a bike ride for Dick. There is a girl’s volleyball tournament in the Convention Center, and when we stopped in, it smelled strongly of sweaty teenagers!

The bird life is again interesting. Soon, I will get out the big camera and take some proper pictures, but for now the phone works. Each morning at sunrise the empty dock beside us is completely full of seagulls. Through the day it is mostly gulls, with a few cormorants standing sentinel. Early evening is the time for herons and egrets. Little Blue Herons and Tricolor Herons are joined by Snowy Egrets. I have never seen so many members of the same heron species so close together except in a rookery.

Herons and Egrets on the dock in the evening

In the evening, we walked along the Riverwalk to Malio’s, a steak house. There was some confusion as to where we would get off the Riverwalk, resulting in adding about a quarter of a mile to our walk. At first, we were shown to a table at the top of the stairs, that would have had us in the path of every guest and all the wait staff. We asked for a different table. Throughout the evening, we noticed that several other guests also refused that table. Dinner was very good, with excellent wines. I started with something called Lobster Escargot, essentially pieces of lobster tail in a garlicky butter, served with toast. Dick enjoyed the best carpaccio he has ever been served. The prime rib (for Dick) was perfect, and I enjoyed my petit filet. As with most high-end steak houses these days, all the accompaniments were an extra charge, and offered in sharing portions. We opted for asparagus and mushrooms, and since we could not agree on a starch, we contented ourselves with the delicious bread that was complimentary for a change. Desserts were just right, berries with ice cream for Dick, and salted caramel gelato for me.

Malio’s, steak for me, and prime rib for Dick

By the next morning, all but one of the other boats had left our section of the marina, so it was a good time to leave. For some reason, the other part of the marina has a security gate, but the town has not bothered to replace the one that should be at the section we were in. Add to this, no showers, and a considerable walk to rest rooms, and the review will not be overly enthusiastic. Location is fantastic however, so we would probably return.

Our voyage this segment, note the lovely straight line across the Gulf!

November 17th to December 2nd, 2024: Pensacola to Port St Joe

Repositioning the car for the last time on this trip was uneventful, and the return journey was quite interesting. We took the rental car and our vehicle from Pensacola via I-95. That Interstate drive along the Panhandle has to be one of the most boring drives in America. We are both depressingly familiar with it from travelling back and forth between Houston and Hilton Head a few years ago. Eventually we turned south and arrived at Port St Joe. After a quick visit to the marina office to make sure they were aware that our vehicle would be in their parking lot for a couple of weeks, we got back into the rental car and set off for Pensacola. This time we took the coast road all the way. It was quite a change from our last trip 24 years ago. It is that long since we were last in the Florida Panhandle. Dick’s Mum and Dad used to winter in Panama City Beach, and Dick and I stayed at a timeshare in Sandestin one Christmas. Today, with the exception of the environs of two Air Force bases, the entire coast is either fully built up or in the process. Even the devastating hurricane of 5 years ago has not discouraged people from rebuilding the lost homes, and developers are building whole new tracts of housing. Apart from the towns, and of course the glorious beaches, there is nothing except miles and miles of houses. Most new buildings are designed to resist hurricane damage, but neither of us would be tempted to live in the area.

Pensacola Palafox Pier Yacht Harbor entrance with commercial shipping behind

Our restaurant back in Pensacola that evening had a lot of promise, but was a great disappointment. Dick had been looking forward to the octopus starter, and that was about the only success. My specialty fries, loaded with sausage and mushrooms, was so cold that I sent it back. Both main courses were merely warm. The fries were not charged, and they comped one dessert, but no manager came to apologise and one would have thought that after the fries were returned they would at least have made sure that the main courses were served hot.

George Bistro loaded fries were stone cold

George Bistro shrimp and pasta, barely warm

Dick spent the next day running errands and seeing if he could fix the water issues under my bathroom sink. Eventually, he had to give up, so for the rest of this trip I have had to dump water out of a strategically placed bowl every few hours, rather than letting it seep into the bilge. The problem is that the assembly under the sink is made of polybutylene, a material now banned from plumbing applications because it fails.

In the evening we walked over to Jackson’s, a really good steakhouse. All our choices were excellent, and piping hot!

Jackson’s key lime phyllo purse for dessert

The next day brought hours of rain. About 5 inches fell in 24 hours, most of it between dawn and 3pm. I enjoyed preparing a spread for our planned docktails that evening. We expected 10 guests, but 6 showed up, so there were a lot of leftovers! It was an enjoyable evening anyway, and we will persevere with invitations.

Every year’s Looper pack has a slightly different character. This year we are seeing far more 2 to 5 boat groups than previously, who travel together and tend not to socialize outside their group. Since we prefer to make our own decisions and don’t “buddy boat”, we are finding it harder to meet people this year. This is also not the first time that this year’s Loopers have accepted our invitation and then not arrived.

We took a walk to Pensacola’s historic main shopping street. To be honest, there are far too many restaurants and not enough shops. We had fun looking around a home shop that was all ready for Christmas. Well, I enjoyed it, Scrooge waited outside after a quick whip through. There was an interesting chocolate shop, where we tried chocolate coated pretzels (yummy) and ate some ice cream. The highlight was being directed upstairs when we stopped at an oil and vinegar shop, to discover a wonderful array of kitchenware, gadgets, and cheeses. A gentleman from Italy offered wine tasting. Dick loved chatting with him, and trying every one of his offerings, while I filled my basket with treasures that I never knew I needed. I tasted the Chardonnay, while the nice man tried to teach me how to cook like a true Italian “in 3 minutes”. We only had space for 3 bottles of the wines he was selling, but altogether it made for a very enjoyable hour!

The history of Pensacola began in 1559, with a Spanish settlement of 1500 colonists that failed following a significant hurricane and was abandoned after just 2 years. Spain decided that northwest Florida was too dangerous to settle, and they abandoned attempts for 137 years. When the French began exploring the lands to the north and west, Spain decided that their territory was threatened, and they established another settlement near present-day Pensacola. In these early years, the Spanish encouraged escaped slaves to join the colony, and there was intermarriage between the mostly male Spanish members of the fortified trading posts, native American women, and the escaped slaves who were given freedom in exchange for conversion to Catholicism. The multiracial heritage of the city lives on in the local creole and Cajun cuisine, and in the ornate wrought iron balconies of the downtown buildings.

In 1763, Florida was ceded to Britain and Pensacola became the capital of the new colony of West Florida. The colony remained loyal during the War of Independence, but it was never a priority for the British, and was handed back to Spain as part of the Treaty of Paris in 1783. The War of 1812 brought Florida into the possession of the United States, and it became a state in 1845.

A few shops and mostly restaurants in downtown Pensacola

A pretty garden beside one of the historic buildings

Interesting murals in downtown Pensacola

A beautiful historic high-rise building in Pensacola

The history of Pensacola includes stories of the struggle for civil rights for black people. During the 1950s and early 60s, African Americans in Pensacola began sit-ins to protest against “whites only” lunch counters in stores. They were verbally and physically harassed, and some were arrested on trumped up charges. The African American community raised bail money, and the peaceful protests lasted 702 days. These protests included the sit-ins, also marches, picketing, and a selective boycott of stores. During this time, downtown stores lost 80% of their business. The lunch counters were integrated in 1962.

Pensacola is also associated with the presence of the Naval Air Station, the first one commissioned in the United States in 1914. The Flight Demonstration Squadron, The Blue Angels, is stationed in Pensacola, but their winter training takes place in California. They return to Pensacola in March, and can be seen practicing through the show season. We heard a few jets while we were in the area, but did not see the Blue Angels.

At the downtown park in Pensacola, you can teach yourself how to dance the Cha Cha

Aging plastic seems to be our theme for November. After the various plumbing issues, all caused by failing plastic, Dick was disappointed when his venerable bike helmet fell apart. Investigation at a bike shop revealed that parts are available (who knew?) but they didn’t have any in stock, so Dick bought a new helmet. This one is larger, heavier, and all white, and the comment at the bike shop was that he looks like a Storm Trooper (Star Wars). He does. Just a couple of days later, after an excursion in Pensacola, the part that clips the bike lock to the crossbar fell apart. Also plastic. Fortunately, Dick also has some cable locks, so he can continue his rides and order the broken piece from Amazon. Clearly, this is a part that fails often, according to Amazon, there were 50 sold on the day I put ours into the shopping basket!

Dick enjoyed a great bike ride through a waterfront park in Pensacola. He also found a completely deserted public marina. Sadly, it is restricted to boats under 27 feet, and no overnight dockage. Possibly there would be pushback from the owners of the local private marinas if the City decided to allow overnight stops or set themselves up in competition. Bruce Beach Park was very interesting. Reclaimed land was the site of lumber mills from the 1890’s until a hurricane swept them away. In 1917, the Bruce Drydock Company was granted two blocks along Pensacola Bay. A dredging project reclaimed 15 acres, as enough sediment was removed to allow vessels of up to 6000 tons to dock for repairs. The business closed in 1939, and the area became a popular, if somewhat unsafe, swimming hole. Later it was a segregated beach for black people, with a purpose-built swimming pool because the bay waters were polluted and treacherous. In the 1990’s, environmental restoration began to reverse the devastation of the 19th and 20th centuries, and the present public park and restored wetlands area opened in 2018.

A great looking marina, but only smaller boats and no overnight dockage

After being behind for a couple of weeks, our friends on Proost caught up with us in Pensacola, and the next day Spring Fling arrived. We all went to dinner at Global Grill, had a great time and good food. We don’t know whether we will see either couple before we leave the boat in Port St Joe (doubtful), but you never know.

We left Pensacola at a leisurely 10am, for an easy run to an anchorage in Santa Rosa Bay, arriving by 1pm. It is a good spot for protection from north winds, but there was quite a lot of chop until the late afternoon, as well as wakes from passing boaters. There was a brilliant sunset, and I am told the sunrise was also lovely, but I was dealing with a situation at our home in Yorkshire, UK. While we woke up to a sunny, but slightly chilly morning in Florida, England was blanketed with snow, and our cleaner could not get in to turn around the house for incoming guests. Once it was all sorted out, I was able to resume my regular post in the cockpit and enjoy the peaceful morning and a very necessary cup of coffee!

The anchor came up easily, and we had a straightforward morning run to Baytowne Marina in Sandestin. This is certainly a location of contrasts. The marina charges over $5 per foot, a huge price compared to others, and out of budget for most Loopers, and yet they are AGLCA sponsors. The marina is part of a resort, with hotels, shopping, golf, and a beach. I had hopes for the shopping, but sadly, the nearby “upscale boutiques” are definitely not. Instead there is an abundance of t-shirt and souvenir shops and arcades, with noisy bars and take-out restaurants.

Our first night’s dinner was in the restaurant in one of Marriott’s Autograph Collection hotels. A few months ago, the menu had lots of familiar choices, but now it is trendy “farm-to-table”, with a preponderance of bitter greens, beans, sweet potatoes and squashes. There was little, in fact nothing, on the menu to tempt me. Dick was convinced that I should order the sweet potato, andouille, and kale soup. As two of the 3 ingredients are in the category of “most disliked foods”, I passed and settled for a salad. Dick had octopus again, followed by a pork shank, both were excellent. I chose Australian Prawns, which came with heads and shells intact. They were tasty, but somewhat tough, and undercooked beans were the accompaniment. One wonders why it was necessary to go to Australia for prawns when the bounty of the Gulf is right outside the door. So much for the whole farm-to-table and seasonal produce mantra!

Ovide Australian Prawns, more beans, undercooked

The next day was a highlight. You can rent a golf cart for a day (at the same price as a rental car!), so we explored the local residential areas, very similar in concept to Hilton Head. There is a broad mixture of townhouses and single-family homes, many in separately gated communities, plus a few condos and hotels. All are built around golf courses and lagoons. We then visited the big shopping mall, which has a number of the higher end chain stores, some restaurants, and a supermarket. We always enjoy browsing in cookery shops, and seldom come out empty handed! We agreed that this was one of the best Williams Sonoma shops we have visited.

In the evening, we returned to the mall for an excellent dinner at a steakhouse that is part of a very small chain. My burrata and tomato salad with prosciutto was probably the best interpretation of a caprese salad I have ever had. The steaks were perfectly cooked, and everything was nice and hot. The apple galette was a perfect finish.

We were supposed to stay another day, and Dick was looking forward to exploring more by bicycle, but a deteriorating weather forecast suggested that it would be a good idea to move on to Panama City before the winds and waves were set for an uncomfortable journey. The Gulf Intracoastal Waterway is different from that of the east coast, in that it is mainly large sounds and bays with relatively short connecting stretches of canal. The large, open bodies of water are quite shallow, which means that the waves can really kick up and it gets very bouncy and unpleasant. Our friend Pete calls it “sporty”, and I tend to be pretty miserable in those conditions. It was disappointing to walk away from what we had paid for one more night, but we already knew there was a policy of no refunds.

We travelled through the cut called the Grand Canyon, one of the man-made sections of the Waterway. It is about 20 miles long. The book said to watch for bald eagles, but as Dick said, it would seem that the eagles didn’t get the memo. We did see a collection of large plush animals looking out at the channel. A note on Google Earth says that it is called The Welcoming Committee, and the collection has grown considerably in the year since that marker was posted. I cannot find any information, and there are no houses, schools, or other structures anywhere in the vicinity, so we have no idea who the committee is welcoming and why.

An enterprising person has turned a derelict sailboat into a home. Note the tin roof and the solar panels

As we crossed West Bay, we heard a loud splash beside the boat. First one, and then three dolphins swam beside us, about 3 feet off our starboard pontoon, for quite a while before they dropped back and went about their important dolphin business.

It was a bit lumpy crossing St Andrews Bay because of the inlet to the Gulf, but for the most part the waves were not on the beam and it was fine. We arrived at Emerald Bay Marina by 4pm. This marina is quite a contrast to Baytowne, isolated in a somewhat industrial and down-market neighbourhood. Apart from the oyster restaurant, any outings require Uber, and there are no interesting shops. The marina is mostly occupied by sailboats, we have not seen this many for some time.

The next evening, we walked to Gene’s Oyster Bar. It is a local institution, having been in business since the 1930’s. The interior is two long counters, with wooden bar stools that must be contemporary with the building. They offer various fresh oysters every day, but since neither of us like them, we chose other options. Dick’s gumbo was good, and he followed it with a grouper po’ boy. The fish was delicious, with a light and tasty batter, and the bread was just right. I opted for a shrimp basket, lovely hush puppies, crisp, hot fries with 3 cheeses melted over them, and some of the most delicious fried shrimp I have ever had. The only jarring note (or call it all part of the atmosphere) was seeing that our friendly, jolly waiter, wore a holstered gun to complete his ensemble of Gene’s T-shirt, slightly grubby jeans, and a truly filthy baseball cap.

Dick went for a long bike ride to downtown Panama City, just to see what we were missing. (Emerald Harbor is a few miles from downtown). There is major redevelopment underway, including the historic downtown area, with many beautiful buildings, and a brand-new marina with surrounding condos. Unfortunately, the town has decided not to complete the marina, only the fuel dock and the breakwater are in place. One might speculate that they are hoping that private enterprise will take over and complete the docks.

Only the fuel dock is operational at Panama City’s marina

The history of Panama City did not begin until the early 1900’s, when a number of unincorporated settlements in the area were amalgamated. Dick noticed that unlike Pensacola, the historic downtown buildings of Panama City date from the early 20th century and lack the Spanish and French influences of older Florida cities. The name was intentionally chosen to associate the city with the Panama Canal, which was under construction at the time. Supposedly the name was chosen by a local real estate developer who hoped to spur interest in the area. The port is the closest port in the US mainland to the eastern Caribbean entrance to the Canal. Two military bases in the area mean that the US government is the largest employer. Commercial interests include shipbuilding and tourism. The city was devastated by Hurricane Michael in 2018, and is still rebuilding. Hurricanes are frequent visitors to the area.

A beautiful Art Deco Theatre in Panama City

The historic clock in Panama City has survived devastating hurricanes

Many buildings in Panama City have these interesting old doors

In the evening, we called Uber and went to the Grand Marlin, a seafood restaurant in Panama City Beach. The food was good, and the service excellent, but it probably wasn’t worth the ½ hour drive.

Our Uber drivers were interesting to chat with. Outbound, our driver came from Montenegro. It was interesting to hear his perspective on living in America. The return trip was with a local lady who could talk the hind leg off a donkey. She told us all about her childhood and how different it was from that of her grandchildren. It wasn’t really a conversation, more of a stream of consciousness monologue, and we felt quite exhausted by the time we arrived back at the marina.

An osprey has a favourite perch overlooking Emerald Harbor. He brought his breakfast fish to consume while he watched the Bayou.

Thanksgiving Day was a bit lonely. We had read in previous years about Loopers sharing the day, but being in a location with only one or two occupied boats, it was unlikely. Dick cooked a traditional dinner of turkey breast, mashed potatoes with gravy, and green beans. We ate in the cockpit after a beautiful sunset, and enjoyed a nice bottle of wine.

I didn’t have to wash up every pan and dish we own after Thanksgiving dinner, but it was close!

Late the next afternoon, the dockmaster came over to ask if we would be willing to move along the dock and make room for another boat. Blue Moon had been booked into the sister marina, but had found on arrival that she just didn’t fit. That was the marina that Dick had hoped to be in, but the owner had explained when he called to make a reservation that we wouldn’t fit. The docks at Emerald Harbor are still under renovation, and the end pier that we were on, while easily long enough to fit both us and Blue Moon, had only pilings and a single plank instead of proper walkways. Only the centre section is a normal dock. This meant a lot of balancing on 12” planks, and inching around the pilings. Very unsafe for all concerned!

Dick was able to help the dockmaster with getting Blue Moon onto the pier. We were happy to see fellow Loopers. They went to the famous Oyster Bar for their supper, while we ate on board, but afterwards they came over and we enjoyed a very convivial couple of hours with a bottle of wine. They are just at the start of their Loop, having begun in Indiana. Interestingly, because they were already familiar with most of the rivers, they chose to come down the Lower Mississippi to Baton Rouge and New Orleans. They had interesting stories about scarce anchorages and mega-tows. We certainly hope our paths will cross again.

We left by 9am to head to our final stop for this year at Port St Joe. While we motored through East Bay we passed a small boat with oystermen, pulling up oysters with large rakes and piling them into the open boat. Oysters have been eaten by humans for more than ten thousand years. They have been cultivated in Japan for at least 4000 years. Romans farmed oysters in the Thames Estuary east of London, and the town of Whitstable still uses those historic oyster beds. In Victorian England, oysters were popular snacks in pubs to accompany a pint of beer. In the 19^th century, oysters were cheap, and they were mainly eaten by the working class. At that time, oyster beds in New York Harbor were the largest source of oysters worldwide. Sadly, by the 20th century disease, pollution, and sedimentation, as well as overfishing, had destroyed most of the New York oyster beds. Today, wild oyster stocks are depleted due to overfishing and other causes, and now they are considered a treat for the wealthy. There is a movement to use oysters to filter polluted water. This can be very successful, but as always, man cannot be trusted. Oysters from reefs that are used for pollution cleanup are not safe for consumption, but there is a high risk of unscrupulous poachers harvesting them and selling them as edible. For the most part, Dick and I do not enjoy oysters, and are happy to leave them for the aficionados.

We passed through a long cut, and then a 5-mile canal to arrive at Saint Joseph Bay. It was quite an interesting journey, with some wildlife to be seen, including osprey, a bald eagle, and Dick saw a muskrat. Shrimp boats dock at the mouth of the canal. We saw a number of derelict boats thrown up on the shore, testament to the frequent hurricanes that come through the area in summer.

Shrimp Boats at the commercial dock in Port St Joe

We arrived at Port St Joe by 3pm, and were tied up in the space where Nine Lives will be for 2 to 3 months. Point South Marina is a newly rebuilt marina with excellent docks and good facilities. We took some time tying up and placing fenders to be sure that everything would be safe and secure while we are away from the boat.

While we enjoyed our traditional wind-down after getting settled (beer for Dick while he fills in the logbook, and fizzy water for me), we saw a new center console catamaran arrive. This monster was about 40 feet long, and sported no less than 4, 400 horsepower outboard motors on the back. Dick found out that they had travelled across the Gulf that day from St Petersburg. They had 6 foot waves, and had to slow down from 40mph to 25mph. The boat had 4 guys on it (Dick speculated that one is likely to be the new owner, and one a delivery captain). It is being delivered to Galveston.

A new 40-ft center console on delivery from St Petersburg to Galveston

In the evening we went to a local restaurant. Port St Joe is a nice little town with what appears to be lots of interesting shops and a surprising number of restaurants. We are looking forward to exploring more of the town when we return in February.

We spent part of Sunday getting a few things packed up and into the car, but most of what is needed can only be done at the last minute. There is a Florida rule that if your boat is staying for more than 90 days, you need to pay for a special permit. Dick had filled in the form, but weirdly, not every local government office knows what it is or how to accept payment and issue the sticker! Dick tried to get it done in Pensacola, without success, so we had to stay in Port St Joe an extra day so Dick could get this done before leaving. Fortunately, the local office here does know how to process the permit. The extra day also gives Dick enough time to discuss the work that needs to be done while we are away with the next-door boatyard.

Nine Lives will snooze at the dock in this very nice marina until February. By late January we will be watching for a “weather window” that will allow us to cross the Gulf overnight and have calm waters. Unfortunately, there are not many days that this will be possible, Loopers may wait as much as two weeks before the right opportunity comes. Hilton Head is just a 6-hour drive, and we will make sure we are ready to leave at a moment’s notice to catch the right weather window.

An osprey, and CCTV, will watch over Nine Lives for the next few weeks

We hope that the next issue of Nine Lives Voyages will be published in mid-February.

Preparation and the 2017 Maiden Voyage: St Petersburg to Hilton Head Island

This is the first chapter of our eight-year odyssey. At that time, I did not write a blog, so I am now (in 2025) reconstructing our experiences of that maiden voyage. Of course, I also have the perspective of our many years of practice, accompanied by memories that are certainly incomplete after all this time!

We spent the time between our purchase of Nine Lives in December, and the maiden voyage in January, gathering together everything we thought we might need, at least for that first three weeks.

Dick bought a bicycle that was designed for beaches and salt air. It has a rubber belt instead of the usual metal chain, and everything is supposedly salt tolerant. Unfortunately, many of the screws and a few of the parts turned out to be just normal metal, and they did rust over the years. Replacements and repairs were relatively simple to find, and 8 years later that bike is still in service.

I had zero interest in a single speed, non-electric bicycle, so we found a relatively small, folding, electric bike that was also rated for marine use. It held up much better, although we generally kept it covered.

My bike is also marine rated, but it is smaller and electric.

I found a wonderful website by a lady who lived on sailboats for many years. Carolyn Shearlock’s website is incredibly useful for boaters who are new to living aboard. She also has an excellent cookbook. I spent hours pouring over her various lists, and gave our Amazon account a real workout. If I am expecting to cook on board, I would like to have the same quality knives, good pots and pans, and nice plates, glassware, and cutlery. We had saved a set of Corelle that had belonged to my mother, and the smallish square plates fit perfectly in the galley cupboards. The stainless-steel cutlery that had been our first purchase many years ago after we were married, was available to take on board. We found some very good stacking pots and pans that were non-stick and also induction ready. I bought small appliances including a hand mixer, a hand blender and food chopper, and a multipot that we liked so much we bought another for our home kitchen. Glassware was a challenge. We prefer to limit the amount of glass on a boat, given the increased risk of dropping things, plus the certainty that we would not be wearing shoes (usually barefoot) on board. I found a source for polycarbonate glassware, so we ordered a full set of old fashioned, tall drink, and wine glasses with Nine Lives engraved on each. For mugs, I ordered some with photographs of cats that I had taken over the years. To complete the “cat theme” I also ordered matching covers for the throw pillows.

At one of the boat shows we attended, we found some absolutely gorgeous Italian custom-made bedding. As soon as we were able to measure the beds, we ordered a full set (with duplicates for laundry) of dark red and cream bedding for Nine Lives. Although Nine Lives came fully equipped, as is normal when a boat is sold, almost all of the linens were stained and unusable, and we prefer to use duvets instead of blankets, so the total bill for bedding ended up being somewhat eye-watering!

The insurance company accepted our boating resumes, but required that we hire a licenced captain for the first week of cruising. This actually fit well with our own preference, never having owned or operated such a large boat, and being entirely unfamiliar with the various controls, engines and systems, and how to use the chartplotter. We did make an error in judgement in this case, choosing to hire the son of the boat builder, rather than an instructor who is well known in AGLCA circles. We thought that the builder’s son would know more about Nine Lives than any other captain. A few days before we were ready to set off, we were advised that the son was not going to be available and instead they had arranged for the Endeavour delivery captain to travel with us for that initial week.

Captain Woody turned out to be a friendly fellow, who appeared to have a lady friend in every port. He spent almost all of the time on his phone. He knew how to operate Nine Lives, but he knew nothing specific about any of her engines or systems, so Dick had to learn all of that on his own. To this day, there are still things about the boat that we don’t know. Woody was not a particularly good instructor, seeing his job as a delivery captain rather than a teacher. For the most part, we had to learn everything on our own, although at least we had the comfort of having a “professional” close by if we got into trouble.

The helm with the chartplotter, various gauges, and two radios to learn about.

In the salon is an instrument panel with more things we needed to know.

In mid-January, we loaded up the vehicle with everything we had been accumulating over the past month and a half, and set off for St Pete Beach. Our good friends, Kim and Stuart, owned a home there, and kindly let us stay while we prepared Nine Lives for her maiden voyage. In addition to finding places for everything, there were new fenders to blow up, our first experience with pumping out the black water tank, filling the fresh water tanks, and a multitude of other jobs, small and large. We also filled up with fuel for the first time. It is one thing to know intellectually how much the tank holds, and how much per gallon diesel costs, and quite another to see the numbers tick up on the fuel pump! We looked around, and decided that the best place to hang the bright new AGLCA members’ burgee was one of the antennas. After a couple of days, we moved aboard, and began to acclimate and set our routines for living on Nine Lives.

On January 17^th, 6 friends joined us on board for the critically important renaming ceremony. It is considered to be very bad luck to change the name of a boat. We did not wish to tempt fate (and besides, who doesn’t want an excuse to have a party?) Captain Woody drove us out to a convenient bay near the marina, and we performed the ceremony. Dick read some of it, and we asked our friends to assist with the rest of the readings. We called upon the gods of wind and waves to forget the previous name, and then we introduced Nine Lives and asked the gods to bless her voyages with light winds and calm seas. Each part of the ceremony required a certain amount of champagne to be tossed overboard to propitiate the gods, and we also drank toasts. There was no champagne left at the conclusion of the event.

Dick’s sister and her friend were able to join us for the renaming ceremony

Early the next morning we departed for Sarasota. Tampa Bay was in a kind mood, with no chop to disturb us, and we passed under the Sunshine Skyway Bridge and turned into the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway. Our destination that first night was Marina Jack in Sarasota.

The next night was our first experience of anchoring on Nine Lives. Dick and I had anchored many times when we were sailing with Mum and Dad, and of course, anchoring was part of our ASA sailing courses. Fortunately, on this and all but one subsequent occasion, we had a nice electric windlass to help with dropping and raising the anchor. (our ASA course required each of us to raise and lower the anchor manually, easy enough for Dick, not quite such a simple endeavour for me!) Our anchorage was in Pelican Bay, off Cayo Costa, then and still today a favourite spot for Loopers. The next morning, Woody introduced us to his favourite breakfast spot, Cabbage Key Inn. I see from the Captain’s log that day the statement “dinghy won’t get out of forward gear”. I am sure there is a story to go with that, but I have no recollection of the incident. I do know that we must have dropped the dinghy into the water for the first time, and motored around the waters of the bay, perhaps stopping to chat with any Loopers anchored there. This was the first of many incidents and frustrations with that particular motor, and we were delighted to replace it a few years later, along with a new dinghy.

Dick climbed the water tower at Cabbage Key Inn

From Pelican Bay, after we stopped for breakfast, and Dick climbed the water tower, we headed to Legacy Harbour in Fort Meyers. I remember that this was the day that Woody handed the controls over to me at the helm and said, go ahead and dock her. He then disappeared below to make one of his endless phone calls to his lady friends. There was a pretty strong wind in the marina, and this was my first time manoeuvring Nine Lives in tight quarters. I remember feeling seriously panicky, and Dick was out on deck, so there was nobody to take over. Docking was successful however, with no bumps or scrapes.

At some point we noticed that our shiny new AGLCA burgee was missing. The unfortunate conclusion was that clips on the antenna are simply not enough to hold a flag in any wind. We ordered a new burgee, and sourced proper flag poles for the bow rails.

From Fort Meyers we headed inland on the Caloosahatchee River and Canal to Roland Martin Marina in Clewiston, on the shore of Lake Okeechobee. Slightly disturbing instructions for the somewhat rustic marina include the suggestion that you do not let your pets go anywhere near the water, as it is well populated with alligators. As I recall, this was also one of the occasions that I enjoyed getting used to the galley and we ate on board. Captain Woody consulted his various weather apps, and advised us to get a very early start the next morning, in order to stay ahead of a forecast major windstorm. Lake Okeechobee is notoriously shallow, and being a fairly large body of water, when the wind blows it tends to pile the water up at one end and reduce the already shallow passage to a serious risk of running aground.

The Caloosahatchee River was wonderful for wildlife spotting. A white ibis in flight.

A rookery with herons, egrets, and anhinga

We left at 7:15 am, and had an uneventful crossing. It seemed misty, but in fact we were experiencing smoke from acres of sugar cane being burned in advance of spring planting. The smoke made everything filthy, including the ceiling of the cockpit, and every part of the boat and the cockpit needed major cleaning at our next stop. Our first lock experience on Nine Lives was uneventful. All those years of locking manually on the English canals stood us in good stead. We were tied up in Loggerhead Marina in Stuart by 2:30pm.

The next morning, disaster struck! The Cuisinart coffee maker that we had purchased for Nine Lives failed! This could have resulted in a very cranky crew, but fortunately the previous owner had left a French press on board, and it saved our morning. After that experience, no matter how much I might have wanted to make more space in the galley, I refused to dispose of the French press.

We also said goodbye to Captain Woody at Stuart, and from then on, we were on our own. Our first solo port of call was Sebastian River Marina, which is north of Vero Beach. There was a slight weather delay the next morning, due to mist, but we were still underway by 9am. Eventually, our normal leaving time would be 9am, but on this first voyage we were in what we refer to as “delivery mode”. In other words, we were moving as quickly as possible to get to our final destination, with only occasional time allowed for sightseeing, and no plans for fine dining experiences.

In Titusville, I was highly amused by our reception at the marina. I was at the helm, but Dick had made all the arrangements and the initial radio contact with the marina before handing over to me while he went forward to deal with the lines and fenders. Two dockhands waited for us on the docks. There was a visible reaction when they saw who was driving. You could see the wheels turning as they looked at each other and without saying anything, they clearly thought “Oh (expletive deleted), it’s a woman driving!” They briskly moved into position to try to fend off what they expected would be an inevitable crash into the dock and the pilings. I did not oblige, and the docking was just as smooth as anyone could wish. It was just slightly irritating to hear the well-meant but seriously insulting congratulations on doing a great job of bringing such a big boat into the admittedly narrow slip.

A tight fit for Nine Lives at the marina in Titusville

We had time to visit the local supermarket in Titusville. This was certainly not our favourite stop on the Great Loop. The area did not feel unsafe, but it was clearly a very deprived part of town. The supermarket was aimed at those on a very low budget. It was awful to see what is offered to people who struggle with their food budget. Everything was of the poorest possible quality, and yet the prices were not really any lower than any other supermarket. We bought the minimum that we could (and had to throw out the coffee a few days later, it was so awful). When we arrived at the checkout, they were unable to take a credit card, and had trouble figuring out how to accept cash, as they normally are paid with food stamps.

From Titusville, our next stop was Halifax Harbour Marina in Daytona, and from there we went to St Augustine, where we gave ourselves a well-deserved day of rest and time to explore what was to become one of our favourite cities. We loved the boutiques and galleries. In one of them we admired a beautiful lamp. After looking around the gallery, I was waiting in the entrance for Dick, when I realized that he had returned to that lamp. Then followed a fair amount of discussion, including a conversation with the artist, so that Dick could determine how the lamp was put together. The plan was to extend the rod that holds the parts of the lamp together up the middle, and drill a hole in the chart table, so that the lamp could be securely fixed to the chart table in the salon. Eventually, we left the shop with our prize, and it has provided a beautiful focal point in the salon for all these years. Ultimately, it will be brought home, and we will be keeping it as a permanent reminder of Nine Lives.

We left St Augustine on the 29^th. That day was our first worrying experience. We had planned to stop at Amelia Island and stay in the marina at Fernandina Beach. At that time, we were still calling on the same day to marinas to make arrangements (we learned later to make reservations well ahead). Dick was told that not only was the marina closed, but they strongly advised against anchoring in the bay, or taking a mooring ball. Hurricane Matthew had been through in the previous autumn, and Florida (and Georgia) were still recovering. Docks had been trashed, and boats had sunk at anchor and not been retrieved. Amelia Island does have another marina, and they said they had space for us. Dick consulted them on the narrow channel leading off the ICW, and was assured that we would have no problem.

The channel is a sharp turn to starboard, immediately past a railway bridge. The pilings of the bridge create strong currents through that area, and it is also tidal. I was at the helm, and made three attempts to turn into the channel, running into the (fortunately mud) bank each time. I backed off and handed over to Dick, who had no better success. The problem was, Nine Lives, being a catamaran, has two hulls, widely spaced, whereas a monohull is V-shaped below. There was plenty of room in the narrow channel for a monohull, but not enough for our two hulls. We had to make a quick decision on an alternate destination, and chose St Marys, just a short run to the north and east.

The weather was blowing up as we came through St Marys Sound, and it was a somewhat lumpy ride. Behind us was a small sailboat. He did his best to keep in our wake and make his passage smoother, but he was plunging up and down and I was seriously worried about him until we eventually arrived in the calmer waters around the St Marys. The town docks were under water, so we could not tie up there as planned. There was a space available at the fishing docks, on the outside, between a large pleasure cruise boat and a sailboat. Once again, I made two attempts to bring Nine Lives into the small space, but with the wind blowing us around and concerns about hitting either the dock or one of the boats, I decided that Dick was going to have to do the honours.

I went out onto the deck, and had the line ready to throw over the cleat. The man from the sailboat came out onto the dock and held out his arms for me to throw him the line. As Dick brought Nine Lives in, we hit the dock, hard. I threw the line, and the man dropped his arms and stepped back away from the coil! As I quickly recoiled it, a fellow from a boat across the dock came out, and he was able to catch the second throw and secure us. That was the last time I willingly attempted to dock Nine Lives. Although I did have to take the helm for docking on a few subsequent occasions, it was my firm decision that if anyone was going to hit the dock it was going to be Captain Dick, and Captain Louise would wrangle lines and fenders.

The next stop was St Simons Island. I had hoped to anchor off Cumberland Island, but we were very much in delivery mode and there was no time. As we passed the Kings Bay Submarine Base, we were hailed by the Coast Guard. They asked us if we could go any faster than our current speed of about 7 knots. They advised us that if we could get out of the area within the next 20 minutes we could go ahead, otherwise we would have to heave to and wait for the submarine that was coming through. We pushed the throttles down and enjoyed a quick trip through the bay to get out of the way. We were joined for dinner at the marina in St Simons by our friend Karen. The marina had a great many interesting extras, including a courtesy car (that we did not use), excellent showers, and a morning paper and muffins delivered to the boat. We did not know about the muffins, but the gulls did, and they enjoyed the feast.

Our next night was a planned anchorage in Walburg Creek. I thought it was a rather open area, and I was very unhappy with the choice, especially after I read a warning that shrimp boats come through there during the night. I was unaware that it was not the shrimp fishing season, so I did not need to worry. We use our anchor light of course, and all commercial traffic is supposed to use radar and should see us anyway, but this was our first night alone at anchor, and I was nervous. In fact, I am nearly always a bit concerned the first time we anchor somewhere. I worry (unnecessarily, Dick says) about the anchor dragging, and whether other boats will be paying attention and see us. This was also the first night that we ran the generator overnight, as it was quite chilly and we needed the heating on. Dick found the generator noisy.

Gulls follow Nine Lives across one of the sounds in Georgia

Our last night of the maiden voyage was at Thunderbolt, which is on the outskirts of Savannah. Here we filled up with diesel again, and I see from the Captain’s log that Dick made a calculation and determined that we averaged 2.373 mpg on that journey.

On February 2nd, we brought Nine Lives home to Hilton Head and our dock in Wexford. The waters around Daufuskie Island are quite shallow, and Dick noted that he needed to keep the speed up somewhat faster than preferred, to handle the wind and currents. We just fit into Wexford lock, with inches to spare on each side. Fortunately, there are rubber bumpers along the sides of the lock, so we had no scrapes, just the first of many black marks along the hull. Docking at our own dock behind our house was simple compared to some of our experiences on that trip, and we secured Nine Lives and breathed a sigh of relief that we had successfully brought her home.

Over the next few months, we made several short trips in local waters. We dealt with an infestation of termites (!) that Nine Lives had picked up when she was docked at the Endeavour boatyard. In addition to building Trawlercats, they also specialized in repair and maintenance of large wooden boats, and it is certain that the termites came from a “pirate ship” that was in for repair. Bob Vincent told us that the other TC44 that we had looked at also picked up some of the small and very unwelcome passengers. Nine Lives was covered all over and to the waterline with an huge green tarp, to the dismay of our good friend who lives across the canal. She thought we were having a very ugly custom cover made. All food, including cans, had to be removed, and the interior was thoroughly sprayed and then left for a few days. We saw no more evidence of termites after the procedure was complete (and our friend was very glad to see the green tarp disappear).

We participated in the new boat welcome to Wexford Harbour, and Nine Lives had her bow christened with bubbly. We were glad to entertain our friends on board during the party.

Ready to welcome guests in Wexford Harbour

We had other travel planned for 2017, but in the meantime, Dick put together the plans for what he considered our “shakedown cruise” in the summer. Only Dick would consider 3000 miles a shakedown cruise!