Feb 25 Mar 3 No Name Harbor Key Biscayne to the Miami Beach Anchorage and Six Lay Days There Nine Miles

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We actually sailed, genoa only, on a jibing course that took us first to the entrance to the Dinner Key Channel and then to the red buoy just south of the first high bridge, after which it was motoring again. A delay for about fifteen minutes just before the last bridge was caused by a huge cruise liner turning in her own length just north of that bridge in a turning basin; no way I want to get too close to her.

At Belle Island, we anchored even further out, far from anyone, still ten feet of water and 100 feet of snubbed chain. Our guests thought it best to stay in a hotel on their last night in Miami Beach so I took them and their luggage (appropriately very light) ashore to the Collins Canal where they called a cab. Two problems: The blocks holding the aft end of the dink were jammed against each other with a twist. No way to unsnarl that knot. And we had to lower the dink to disembark our guests. What to do? A stout line from a bowline through  the dinks lifting strap, over the davit bar and forward to a winch. Then cut the snarled line right at the inside of the knot (I only lost six inches of its length) and lower the dink with the stout line. Second problem: on the way in, the outboard died. But while scary, I just squeezed the black bulb in the fuel line and she started right up again and has run fine ever since. Pray let this continue.
Nothing fazes these guys; first a boxed set:




Back at ILENE, I picked up Lene, flashlight, picnic dinner and two folding chairs and we went to a free screening of the Oscar winning (for special effects) "Interstellar" projected on the outside wall of the New World Symphony where we met up with Jerry and Louise and others of their friends. It was much warmer than when we had viewed the Sinatra film during our southbound stay here. But the film was a mess of confusing plots and name brand actors who mumbled their lines -- and long. I had a nap during part of it; a good film is defined as one that keeps me awake.

We did laundry, shopped for replacement things for the new dink (strong coated wire with loops at both ends for locking it, nav lights, shammy, spare fuel tank, small mushroom anchor, hand powered bailing pump and trim tabs.
And during the boat cleaning, we couldnt get the shop vac to turn on. Finally Lene called over our friend Nick (with the two huskies) and we kept thinking. The problem was that when we had disconnected from shore power at Coconut Grove, we had not turned on the "Ships Power" switch.  Our lights, navigation equipment, engine, water pump etc. operated with this switch off, but for applications of 110 volts (the outlets that we use for some device charging and the vacuum cleaner) we needed to turn on the inverter and it wouldnt turn on until we turned "ships power" on. Nick asked where the toggle for the inverter was on the breaker panel, which caused me to realize that ships power had not been turned on yet. Nick came over the next morning for mango- peach-sweet potato pancakes. I whipped a lot of ends of lines: both the various pieces of "short stuff" the new, thinner diameter lifting strap lines of the dink and the new end of the line through the blocks at the aft end of the dink. And I assembled the oar locks onto the oars of the dink so it will be ready to be rowed if that is needed.

One evening Jerry and Louise picked us up and took us to the north Miami
Beach amphitheater which had a fascinating lecture about the history of Miami Beach by its official historian on the occasion of the citys 100th anniversary, followed by a concert by the big band of Cab Calloways grandson. all free. Then dinner at a good Cuban restaurant next door. We were a party of seven with David, Ilana and Sam. Rain had threatened all night and there was a brief strong downpour for the five minutes that we were dinking home; but it was clean rain water and clothes do dry.

Another day it rained, pretty hard for long hours (lots of bailing from the dink in the evening) but we were high and dry at Jerry and Louses with Sam, whose daughter, Rachel also joined us for a while.

A good home cooked dinner to which everyone contributed to the making of one or more dishes.

I read "The Gun Ketch" by Dewey Lambdin, about a naval officer before the Napoleonic wars. It is like Hornblower and the OBrian books, but Lambdin is "R" rated and his characters curse like, well... sailors.  No this is not another book review, though I write such for all the books I read. Ill only add that this one was particularly pleasurable because it was set in the Bahamas and Turks and Caicos, where we sailed in 2012 and had experience of the waters in question. I sent my review with thanks to Steve, a member of my Book Group who lent the book to me before our voyage. He sails a Hobie Cat style beach boat from Fire Island. His reply revealed that he and his wife, Belinda, who have sailed with us on our Tartan 34, were in South Beach. So we got together for dinner at Sardinia,
located a block from the dinghy dock. They invited us to join them for a ride on the power boat they had rented so we joined the dark side for two hours at speeds that ILENE cannot attain.





Another electrical problem was solved and fixed. I had turned off the Spectra Ventura water maker at its switch/breaker on the inside of the anchor locker following a series of alarms, and it would not turn back on.
The anchor locker is an uncomfortable place to work, made easier by Lene getting me the many tools and supplies needed for the job. Calls to Brian of Headsync, the vendor/ installer and to Dean of s/v Autumn Born confirmed that the problem was probably not in the water maker itself, but in the power leading to it. There is a switch and fuse above my left shoulder on the inside of the locker but they seemed OK. (Lene took this candid picture, not of me, but of my curious assistant, at my left elbow!) The problem was found at the junction box, mounted where my flashlight illuminated hands are.
An occasional drip from the deck port access through which the salt water anchor chain wash-down pumps hose is located was the cause. Though protected by a smear of Vaseline and a flimsy plastic cover, this salt water had turned the old block into a gooey green mass of corrosion. When that was cleaned off, I saw that one of the four wires had totally corroded away, and provided no electrical connection. I had to drill the old block out and the holes of the boxes I had as spares (lower right) were too small  in diameter for the heavy gauge wire involved.
A long dinghy ride to the marine store to get a new block but then I had to hack off the piece needed, and the remainder of the block, (the black rectangle in the upper right) is now a spare. The old block was installed in August 2010 so not many years had passed to turn it into junk, and the damp nature of the place cannot be eliminated. I mounted the block so the wires run into it horizontally, rather than vertically, and with a "U" shaped loop in the way the wire is wire-wrapped to the bulkhead from above. Thus water that drips from above, along the wire will hopefully drop off the bottom of that "U", rather than run to the terminals of the block itself. Also I attached a piece of heavy gauge Zip-lock bag material behind and over the top of the block to deflect water. It works for now, power being restored to the machine. Lets see how long this will last. I am not a handy or mechanically inclined person so I get a big thrill from being able to accomplish such a repair myself. Sailing presents a never ending series of such challenges your way, which will become more frequent as ILENE, now a sweet sixteen, ages further.
On our last day here we returned the rented SUP and saw "Leviathan at the nearby cinema. A long thought provoking subtitled Russian film.
Our plan is for an Atlantic passage to Fort Lauderdale on March 4, when good wind (10 to 20 from behind us) is predicted, and about two weeks there at Cooleys Landing Marina for visits with friends, etc. followed by another Atlantic passage to the Lake Worth Inlet for more friends.



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