Wednesday, May 3 - Thursday, May 04, 2006

Saul Creek to Carrabelle to Anclote Key, Florida

During this leg of our journey, we covered 207 miles in 26 hours. We changed
time zones from Central to Eastern Daylight Time, then completed this part
of the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway, which goes offshore at Carrabelle and
resumes at Tarpon Springs, Florida.

We left our anchorage at Saul Creek, Florida about 9:30 a.m. on May 3 and
crossed Apalachicola Bay and St. George sound. As we approached Carrabelle,
NOAA weather radio and satellite weather reports predicted two days of light
wind and calm water for crossing the Big Bend. That was exactly what we
needed.  The next opportunity would be after yet another week in a marina.

After some discussion, we canceled the marina reservation and took a right
turn out into the Gulf of Mexico at Carrabelle at about 1:30 p.m.  A friend
who was crossing a few hours ahead of us heard our radio conversation with
the marina and said that the water was like glass.

We found ourselves in water with more chop than expected, but not too bad.
NOAA radio and the electronic equipment we had on board told us the waves
were two feet or less with light wind ahead, so we pressed on, expecting
things to settle down, for another 22 hours of rolling from side to side,
pushed by beam seas that made things rattle in the cabinets.

Cinder, who has a tender tummy, suffered a bout of seasickness. Rosie moved
about for hours, trying in vain to find a comfortable resting spot, and
finally settled stoically next to me or in her den the rest of the time.  We
had tried so hard to plan this crossing to avoid such a ride because we know
it would be a long trip. All the information we had indicated that this was
our best opportunity for a smooth crossing.  This was, indeed,
disheartening.

As the hours dragged by, the sun set and night was upon us.  Jim tuned the
satellite radio to a station playing New Orleans type jazz and we took turns
keeping watch while the other person tried to sleep.

As I lay on the dining bench after one of my watches, I thought that if
there is a purgatory, it would be like this, i.e., not as bad as Hell, but
definitely not Heaven. As I drifted to sleep, the radio began to broadcast a
rendition of "When the Saints Come Marching In."

My magical moment came at about midnight.  I opted for that watch because I
wanted to see the numbers on the 24-hour clock roll to 0000.  Leaning out
the cabin door by the driving station, I scanned the horizon, looking for
lights, dark shapes, or any indication that we might be about to collide
with something , I could see the quarter moon shining and so many stars
twinkling in the dome sky overhead.  As Genesis cut through the waves, the
water splashed with fluorescent foam.

As the bewitching hour approached, a dolphin leaped out of the water beside
Genesis.  The light from the stars and moon reflected off its body and it
glowed as it dove and glided through the water.

Then, more glowing dolphins approached and slipped under our bow to swim
along with us, or play in the foam alongside.

Genesis seemed to be flying through the water, surrounded by glowing
dolphins.  The moon threw a bright swath of light across the dark waves from
the horizon to our boat.  It seemed that we were very small and in the
center of the universe.

When Jim took his turn at watch, I told him to look for the dolphins.  He
leaned out the door, and a flying fish whizzed by his head and smacked a
window.  He saw others, as well as the dolphins, throughout his watch.

The next morning, we found four dead flying fish on our decks.  We were
surprised they would be able to fly so high.

That leg of our journey ended at 11:30 a.m., on Thursday, May 4, when we
threaded our way among the crab pots and anchored at Anclote Key, an island
across from the entrance to Tarpon Springs, Florida.  The water is so clear
that we can see the bottom.

We will stay another day to recuperate.  The cats are fine again, and
graciously have forgiven us.