Honey Queen Adventures

Ft. Lauderdale to West End/Bahamas

Saturday morning, 7 am, we met Steve and Susie at the fuel dock across the ICW to top off our tanks before crossing.  After 45 minutes there, we headed out to sea (literally).  The forecast called for a pretty rough start that would settle around noon, if we could endure it.  The start was exactly that. But because we were going ENE and the wind/waves were from the ESE, the boat responded much better today than it had yesterday.  It was rough, but not scary or rolling.  Our boat is considered a passagemaker, meaning it has the capacity, though small, to cross the ocean.  This crew DOES NOT have that capacity, so we will never know.  The Honey Queen had no issues today in these seas. As promised by our weather guru, the seas did calm almost on cue, around noon. 

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The day was very long, but we managed fine.  We experienced our first day in the Gulfstream, the warm South to North flowing waters. The stream often feeds and strengthens hurricanes. For us, we gained speed with the current pushing us. Our forecasted day of 10 hours turned out to be only 9. We were very happy to see land and the Old Bahama Bay Marina about 5 pm. 

The crossing behind us, we went to the customs office to clear.  All the hours spent on line, loading info, passports, Covid tests, completing the health visas, etc., was seemingly wasted.  Their websites are not user friendly, and also inaccurate.  Info we had input was not there when they opened up our files.  Better lucky than good, my process only took just over an hour. The young lady helping me was the best.  Her attitude and computer skills helped me work through and locate all the missing data that I had already entered before crossing.  She had no name tag, but if I could, I would put in a good word to her boss.  I hope to see her here again when we head back to the states. Steve was not quite so lucky.  He walked out just before 8 pm, finally cleared.  The guy he had “helping” needed a helper. We learned later that night that the fishermen who come to the Bahamas regularly, fill out the paperwork on the spot upon arrival.  They skip all the “easy” prep work that can be done online.  Lesson learned.

We ate fried shrimp at the little roadside stand adjacent to the marina.  We made a game plan with our buddy boat team to be ready to leave at 8 am, when the marina opened (to verify our bill was correct).

West End to Great Sale Cay

Sunday morning, we ended up leaving closer to 9 am, after learning we were charged for water (common in the Bahamas. We purposely had not used any, but since we had to pay, we topped off our water tanks and rinsed about an inch of salt from the starboard side of the boats.

Today’s destination was Great Sale Cay, a trip of about 42 miles.  Days like this really make me appreciate our autopilot. Most of the journey was long straight runs with very few waypoints, so the boat pretty much drives itself. My job is to soak in the glorious views and keep a close eye on that depth gauge. We had a quiet ride all day, got anchored in the byte of the little island, providing a little wind protection, and then I splashed the dinghy. 

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We picked up Steve and Susie and cruised over to the beach.  We explored, picked up a few shells, and headed back to our mother ships.  After Steve and I planned our day trip for Monday, we had dinner on our boats, and crashed (as soon as Amanda watched The Equalizer).

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To reach our Bahamas check in destination by Saturday evening, we had to leave Marlin Bay Marina (Marathon) on Thursday morning.  We said good bye to our Marlin Bay Community and dropped the lines about 10 am.

Our trip East and North took us back to Rodriguez Cay today. Friday morning had to be a long day to Ft. Lauderdale.  Seventy miles, to be precise. Much of this day was uncomfortable for us. The seas were on our starboard stern, so we rolled and turned for hours. Amanda and I both chose not to eat all day out of fear that we would only see our breakfast or lunch again. Never was scary, it was just yucky. We were very happy to pull into the inlet on the ICW from the Atlantic and feel the waters flatten. We made it to Lauderdale right at 5 pm and got settled into our slip at Pier 66 Marina, a marina that houses boats so large that ours could easily serve as their dinghy.  Because we were so tired and had a long day again ahead of us, we decided we would splurge and order from a restaurant that would deliver our dinner.  Steve and Susie were in full agreement, so Amanda spent 1 ½ hours trying to order something.  For reasons too numerous to count, we gave up.  Amanda baked a potato, mixed up some tuna salad and guacamole, and we ate very late.  Amanda did 3 loads of laundry while I worked on getting our phone for the Bahamas activated and finished (I thought). Then I completed (I thought) the rest of the online paperwork for clearing customs in the Bahamas. I got to bed at 12:45 and set the alarm for 5:45. 

This really marked the first day of our vacation trip, at least in my mind.  Until now, we have gone wide open, since completing the Great Loop last June.  As mentioned before, we prepped our home of 22 years for sale, got it sold, bought a new (to us) home on Skidaway Island, did all the work associated with a move (most of which we had forgotten or we probably would have never moved), and then immediately began preparation for this trip.

Planning a trip to the Bahamas requires a little different mindset.  Though we’ve never been there, conveniences of home are spaced pretty far apart in the Bahamas. As hard as getting boat work done at home is, it is even more challenging in the Bahamas.  We’ve heard too many stories like waiting 2 weeks on a part for an engine or a toilet or a cooktop.  It is our intention to be over prepared with spare parts, so if needed, I will be able to handle most things that could go wrong. 

We spent the weeks in Marathon continuing the prep, and repairing a couple things that were not a part of our prep.  Two days before we arrived in Marathon, the raw water (salt water ) cooling pump started dripping at the seal.  The bad news was there was a leak.  The good news was the problem started stateside and not on some remote island in the Bahamas. I searched and found what was supposedly the right pump and had it shipped to the marina.  It came in, wrong of course, so my vendor then figured out the problem, found the right pump, and had it shipped to me.  The better news is the right pump cost half as much as the wrong one.  I had to write this down somewhere so when I start complaining (it is inevitable) about how costly it is to operate a boat, I will remember this day when something only cost half as much as I had thought it was going to cost.  For the record, this half cost item was still twice as much as it should have cost.  I do remember: when the word “marine” is on the box, that word really means “times two”.

We did start having some plumbing trouble, as well, while in Marathon, so I procured those parts and made appropriate repairs.  We reviewed all the final lists from the Waterway Guide regarding the Ditch Bag.  This is your life bag, in the event the worst goes wrong on the boat.  Eprib, hand held VHF, 1^st aid kit, copies of driver’s licenses, passports and credit cards, and about 2 dozen other things (water food clothes), were added.  Things you take for granted every day, until you don’t have them.

Clint and Mali, with Stella and Will, came to visit us for almost a week.  They stayed in a hotel down the road from the marina and we had lots of good visiting time around the pool and the local beach.  We ate out, ate in, and enjoyed our time together. 

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Abigail, along with her dear friend Amanda Sills, joined us the same week, beginning on Wednesday.  They stayed on the boat with us, both of them sleeping on the tiny couches in the salon.  These two are very accommodating and took up very little space.  Our boat is quite comfortable for 2 people, but adding 2 more could certainly make life interesting, if it was the wrong two.  But Ab and Amanda were great.  Clint and Mali left on Friday, Ab and Amanda on Sunday.  We were sad to see them go.  Amanda (Dorman) did sleep 12 hours Sunday night, so we may never know how sad or relieved she was that everyone was gone.

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We started watching the weather on Monday, 22 March, looking for a good crossing date.  I subscribed to Chris Parker weather service that customizes a plan for us to cross the Atlantic to the Bahamas.  With a boat speed of 7 knots, the weather needs to be comfortable to our standard for at least 10 hours.  Since our comfort level means seas of less than 3’, that planning has to be done carefully. The forecast looked best for a Saturday crossing. With that tentative date, it was time to get focused.

We drove back to Stuart with the assurance our boat would be ready on Friday. We checked back into the quaint Colorado Inn, stayed Wednesday and Thursday nights.  Friday morning, we had breakfast and lunch, checked out of the hotel and caught an Uber to the boat yard.  We had already taken advantage of the rental car and had restocked the boat with groceries the day before. The boat yard manager, Steve, had told us he would get the Honey Queen in the water at 1:00 pm, right after lunch.  I coordinated with the stabilizer crew, who needed to calibrate the stabilizers after the boat was in the water.  They showed about 1:30, spent an hour doing their thing, and we were underway by 3 pm.  

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We made it to Palm Beach to an anchorage at Lake Worth, just before dark.  We had stayed here last summer as we were in the home stretch of the Loop, so it was good to be on familiar ground (technically: water).

The rest of the travel days were:

February 27—Anchored at Sunset anchorage, just north of Ft. Lauderdale

February 28—Anchored at Biscayne Cay, just south of Miami. Our memory from here was the charter boat that played Reggae-Rap for 7 straight hours nonstop.  Thankfully, they left around 8 pm, bringing quiet to the otherwise lovely anchorage.

March 1—Rodriguez Cay. We made it here with no serious challenge.  It is the leg of the journey that requires going into the Atlantic, because the ICW actually ends in Miami.  We had checked the weather and forecasted wave height.  It looked like it might be a little dicey for awhile.  As predicted, we pulled out of the Biscayne Channel the waves went to 4 footers. Thankful those very expensive stabilizers were functioning at their best, we made it Rodriguez Cay (near Key Largo) well before dark.

March 2–Tuesday morning, Amanda’s birthday; arrived Marlin Bay

No sleeping late on her birthday, mama had to rise early because we had a pretty long day ahead of us to get to Marlin Bay. We arrived at the marina just after 2 pm. Sort of like coming home, we were glad to see boater friends, old and new. The new dockmaster dictated to me the rules of staying in the marina. It was easy to tell that he and I probably won’t be besties, and after talking to just a few people, I learned that many others shared the same opinion.

We look forward to the days of relaxing here in the warmth of the Keys.

This morning, we got the verdict on the stabilizers. It will be 2 weeks on boat yard, instead of one.  Major problem, but like most things on the boat, it is nothing money can’t fix.  We hoped the stabilizers would only need tuning up but we weren’t so lucky. The work added a week to our game plan, which obviously put us a week behind where we hoped to be:  The Keys, in Marathon.

After much debate with what to do with the extra week, we touched base with Steve and Susie, already in Marathon. They talked us into coming there and hanging with them for a week.  So Wednesday morning, we rented a car and drove south.  We spent the better part of the week with them, enjoying the food and drink and pool.  It was nice to be in the warm weather.

We sat still today in Hooker Cove and enjoyed a Sunday, day of rest, Valentine’s Day.  Being “stranded” on the water, there was no access to chocolates, flowers, champagne, and expensive dinners.  We suffered through the gorgeous day, anticipating the delivery of our boat to the yard tomorrow morning for necessary maintenance.

Day 9—February 15

Our ride to the boat yard this morning was just over 3 miles.  We have heard positive comments about A & J Boat Yard, so we are hopeful all will go as planned and we will be on our way south again on Friday. 

Our haul-out time was scheduled for 9 am.  I called at 8:40 and they said they would call me when it was my turn.  I was just outside the basin of the yard, watching the travel-lift operator get into position when at 8:59, he gave me the hand signal to come on in.  We literally were in the slings at 9:10.  So far, so good.  We unloaded all our baggage on the dock and got out of the way while they lifted the boat from the water.

While we were getting things straight with the boat yard, we met a local couple having work done on their new “to them” boat.  They offered us a ride to the hotel which we accepted without hesitation.  Having done this boat traveling thing for a couple years, and being a harbor host now in Savannah, I have learned that boat people just like to do those kinds of thing for other boaters.  Whether on the giving end or the receiving end, I find great pleasure in meeting folks in this environment.  We may never see Rich and Eileen again, but we were appreciative of their kindness.

We checked into the Old Colorado Inn in downtown Stuart and began our planned week of exploring and doing what I enjoy the most, shopping.

Hole in the Wall—Vero—Ft. Pierce—Stuart (Hooker Cove)

Another restful night, thanks to Capt. Chris.  His advice for this anchorage had us positioned well to get a little south breeze, and yet be protected from the boat traffic wakes on the ICW.  With only 33 miles to our destination of Stuart, we started the day slowly and moved at that pace most of the day. I am sensing I need to do something to work on my reflexes, because living the trawler life doesn’t exactly demand a quick reaction to anything…other than a sandbar.  There are times when it is critical to think quickly, but there are often hours between those moments, so sometimes the most dangerous this captain at the helm are the moments when nothing is happening, and staying awake is the biggest challenge.

When we did get moving, we headed out the same way we came in.  Side bar:  The tide swing here is less than a foot.  That’s good when you’re at anchor.  Not much to worry about when sleeping.  But when  dealing with shallow water, sometimes we count on a higher tide. For example, when the inevitable shoal finds the bottom of your boat, the rising water will eventually deliver you.  But here, at this spot, not so much the case.  I followed my track that we made coming in yesterday.  Hard to believe it, but that was not a good idea.  I hit the shoal we hit yesterday.  No problem, I thought.  I’ll just power through again.  I managed to wedge our keel deeper into the shoal before the boat came to a complete stop.  No problem, a little thrust to the left, then to the right, and then reverse and we will be on our way…I thought.  I checked the tide chart, looking for the water I would gain. It measured I would gain about .2 (yes, 2/10) of a foot…in 3-4 hours!  Amanda asked if I wanted her to call Tow Boat US.  “Not yet!”, I said.  I thrusted a little more, reversed a little more (red lined the engine) and BAM, the Honey Queen broke loose and started moving backward.  We got lucky.  The beauty of going so slow is we did not wedge ourselves too deeply into the shoal.  We picked an unlikely route out of the side channel that ended up being the right choice.  We found some 8’ plus deep water and puttered back into the ICW. 

We had some weather today, but not too threatening.  The water was fairly open, so we got to meet a few of the Florida Arrogant Big Boaters (FABBs).  These guys love their big boats more than they love people. Most are blind to trawlers and other “lesser” watercraft.  They throw 6’ wakes and generally enjoy the middle half of the ICW. Their time is obviously, very important because they don’t slow down. It takes them too long to get back on a plane if they slow down, not to mention the burn rate on fuel of 50 gallons per hour…per engine.  This is really my only complaint about South Florida.  The rest is pretty nice.

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We arrived at Hooker Cove, coincidentally, about the same time as yesterday’s schedule, 4:45.  Six hours underway took us to this great, very open anchorage, which is known as a great take off point for crossing the Okeechobee.   This is the end of the St. Lucie River.  The basin is pretty large, but well protected. But I’m sure it can get pretty choppy on very windy days because of the shallow water.  But our time on the hook gave us just a nice breeze.  And the best part, there was not another boat that anchored in our sight, so we pretty much had it to ourselves.  And because of the size of the basin, the homes on the water are far enough away so we don’t feel like we pulled up in someone’s back yard and camped out.

We arrived at our first critical destination a day early.  This is Saturday afternoon.  We have an appointment in the boat yard for 9:00 am Monday morning.  If we had had any inclement weather, we would not have made it today.  But our aggressive miles earlier in the week, complimented by mostly good weather, have us ahead of schedule.  We will look forward to Sunday, and make it a day of rest.

Cocoa—Melbourne—Palm Bay–Sebastian–Hole in the Wall(N of Vero)

Left Cocoa Beach Anchorage around 8 am. It’s the first morning we’ve not had a fog excuse for getting up early.  The anchorage, though near the bridge, was quiet and well protected, so it was another good night.  We’ve been blessed by nice weather and temperatures.

One small addition we made to the boat since the Loop was fans.  We installed 4—12volt fans; 2 in the state room, 1 in the pilot house, and 1 in the salon.  Now that we’ve gotten further south, the moving air feels nice with the higher temps. The low voltage fans pull fewer amps from the house batteries than using 120 volt fans, through the inverter.  We also added a new 12-volt freezer.  This will allow us to keep more meat and frozen goods on hand for our trip to the Bahamas.  Our hope is to spend more time on the hook and less time in marinas and grocery stores.  The fans and the freezer have been a pleasant surprise regarding amp usage, drawing less power than expected, extending battery life in between charges by the generator.

I touched base with our former training captain, Chris Caldwell, from Vero Beach, and got a heads up on a good anchorage. He said the Hole in the Wall anchorage, near Pine Island/N. of Vero Beach, was good. So we charted to the spot and headed that way.

The day was pretty uneventful, for the most part. We did bump the bottom at 4 1/2′ (our boat drafts 4′-9″) as we came off the ICW into the anchorage. I took a chance and powered my way through, hoping for deeper water beyond the shoal. It’s probably not a good idea to do that, but the charts showed deeper water just beyond, so I went for it. We got lucky and just a few feet later, we were floating again, without noises coming from below. We got to the spot about 4:45, taking about 6 hours to arrive. It was early enough to allow a few minutes on the bow cushion to enjoy the warmth of the day and watch another boat fight getting their anchor unstuck from the soft mud. Temps ranged from 75-80 degrees and the weather was quite pleasant.

Since completing the Loop, we have been busy on the home front.  We spent the summer getting our home ready to sell.  Twenty-two years in one place means lots of accumulation.  Much of that accumulation is good.  Memories, mainly.  Amanda worked herself into the ground trying to sort and sift the “stuff”.  If I could have helped her, she still wouldn’t have let me.  It was important to her to touch everything and make rational, non-emotional decisions. I worked on the house itself, making tons of minor repairs from wood replacement to driveway sections.  Had to sub out a few things beyond my skill set, but by November, the house and yard looked great.  We listed the house with our friend Joe Dyer and 7 days later, we were under contract.  While the house prep was going on, we were also looking for our new home. We closed on our new home before we had a contract on our existing, but it all worked out. We survived the move and will probably be unpacking and organizing for months to come.  With the “home “work behind us, we scheduled our next boat trip.  The goal is to spend a month in the Keys and 2 months in the Bahamas.  We hope Covid will be cooperative this year and allow it to happen.  We’re grateful for the opportunities to travel and enjoy our retirement, knowing so many have problems MUCH BIGGER than ours. How this little adventure turns out, is yet to be determined.

Day 1–February 7

Delegal Creek–Ossabaw Sound–St. Catherine Sound–Sapelo Sound–Altamaha Sound.

Having finished the Loop on June 7, 2020, our 8-month landlubber sabbatical has finally ended. After a number of frustrations getting boat repairs, all issues (that we know of) were resolved on Saturday, the 6^th. Ben helped me get it put together Saturday morning and we did a sea trial up Delegal Creek (I guess it was a creek trial, technically) to be sure all was holding well.  Our Democratic friends will be disappointed that we did not get rid of our generator and engine and install solar panels this year.  Once all the new jobs are created by the solar industry and there’s no more diesel fuel, we will make the improvement to our little mobile home (boat).

We pushed our 40-mile plan to 53 to close the gap on the late (later than planned) start date.  We have an appointment at a boatyard in Stuart, Florida, for a bottom job.  No plastic surgeons will be involved; we simply need to put a coat of paint on Honey Queen’s bottom.  We left small paint deposits on sandbars along our last 6,000 plus mile trip.  So it’s time. With our appointment on 15 February, we are pushing to be in Stuart on the 14^th. 

After crossing 4 sounds and some really shallow water, we made it to our first anchorage, called Wally’s Leg, near St. Simon’s Island.  With a nip in the air, the skies were clear; we enjoyed the stars for 5 minutes before going in and literally pulling the covers up over our head to stay warm.

Day 2–February 8

Wally’s Leg—St. Simon’s Sound—St. Andrew’s Sound—Cumberland Island—St. Mary’s Inlet—Fernandina—Sister’s Creek/Jacksonville

We pushed again, covering 63 (nautical) miles, 20 miles farther than the original plan.  Sister’s Creek is a free city marina.  Though no electrical or water connections, it does provide a secure place to tie lines and helps us sleep a little better, not having to be concerned about a dragging anchor.

We saw so few on the Loop and were surprised to see 3 so close to home.

Day 3–February 9

Sister’s Creek—Pablo Creek—Palm Coast

We rose early at Sister’s Creek, ready to attack the day.  The fogged rolled in at daybreak, so we sat for 3 hours before leaving.  Assuming it would be impossible to make our 53-mile plan, we agreed we would go as far as safely possible and call it a day.  With a little help from the tides, we made better than expected time.  We decided to push to Palm Coast City Marina, though it would be after dark.  We called and they assured us someone would be there to direct us to our spot and catch our lines.  A live-aboard couple did meet us and gave us a hand, as promised.  Rosine, the dock master at the marina is a cordial professional and we appreciate the work she and her staff do for folks like us.

Day 4–February 10

Palm Coast—Flagler’s Beach—Daytona—New Smyrna Beach

We woke again to fog, it cleared, we took off. Ten minutes later, we ran into another wall of fog.  We puttered at 3 knots for several miles, with visibility sometimes as little as 50 yards.  Usually, crab traps are such a pain when navigating, but this morning, they were my friend.  Spaced along the edge of the channel of the ICW, I was able to keep one of them in view most of the time.  Them, and my radar, got us safely through the fog.  Two more times, as we travelled, we ran into fog.  But visibility was bearable and we kept moving. We covered 38 miles (our shortest since leaving) and arrived in NSB just after 4 pm.

John and Karen DeYoung, friends we made last year south of Chicago, have a home in NSB.  They came by and picked us up at the marina and we had a walk on the beach and then dinner at The Garlic, a fabulous Italian restaurant.  It was fun to catch up with them, continue our friendship, and look forward to our next visit with them…somewhere.

Day 5–February 11

NSB—Indian River—Edgewater—Titusville—Cocoa

For the 3^rd day in row, fog was waiting on us when daylight hit.  Plans to hit it at daylight and arrive at a planned destination early were foiled again.  We piddled until 9 am. The fog lifted and we took off.  Today was easiest day yet on this brief journey.  The distance was 45 miles, but the vast majority of the travel was literally in a straight line.  Setting very few waypoints on the trip plan, I was able to set Auto Pilot and sit in the pilot house and watch the boat do its thing.  The weather turned beautiful with temps hitting the low 70’s and bright sunshine.  We enjoyed having the windows and doors open and wearing shorts and T shirts.

We made it to Cocoa and dropped the anchor at the W. Cocoa Beach Causeway Bridge.  Winds were out of the south-southeast, so we tucked in on the north side for protection from the forecasted light breezes and rain tonight.

The last time…

I awoke, for the last time on our journey, early this morning to clouds and rain that soon followed. We sipped our coffee, blogged a little, and by 8:30, I was on the bow, rain jacket donned, pulling up our anchor…for the last time on this trip.  For this 4-hour leg, my mind kept returning to the same thought:  That (whatever I’m doing at the moment) is the last time I’ll do “that” on this trip.  We believe, trust, and certainly hope there will be other trips.  All week, we have discussed our sinking moments, knowing that today this journey will end. 

We reached Hell Gate (a well-known tight spot on the ICW just prior to entering the Ossabaw Sound around noon. With a good push from the current, we were ahead of the 1 pm scheduled arrival.  Our welcome party that Amanda organized would not be there yet.  So, we rode past the entrance to Delegal Creek toward South Wassaw Island.  It was still there.  For twenty years, this beach has been our favorite “re-creation” spot. Lots of productive time was spent here, rebuilding brain cells from the stress of a 60 hour/week business. On this little beach are memories of building sand castles, picking up shells, throwing horseshoes, footballs, and frisbees, sitting under the umbrella eating pineapple sandwiches and Oreos, drinking cool refreshments, and napping, often waking to the drool on my t-shirt or bare chest, hoping no one had noticed.

The detour to South Wassaw allowed time for the reception to gather for our entry into Delegal Creek Marina.  I turned the Honey Queen around, and as fate would have it, hit bottom one more time (but probably not the last time).  Though the water was charted as 21 feet deep, I must have needed one more lesson in humility, because the water quickly became 4 feet deep (we draft 5 feet).  The idea of being stuck on a sand bar, on an outgoing tide, and having 15 people waiting on the dock was humiliating. I randomly picked a turn to port as an escape route.  The boat was barely moving as it slid through the sand; 4 feet…4 1/2 feet…5 feet…6 feet… and soon 21 feet of water (as charted) was below the keel. (Side note: I had the bottom of the boat scraped for barnacles before we left Marathon. The diver told me the bottom paint appeared to be in good shape, except the bottom of the keel. There was no paint there. I told him I knew where I had left that paint, recalling the number of shoals I had blazed). I was so relieved we broke loose and the show would go on. Though a little late for the 1:00 pm grand entrance, we pulled into Delegal Creek and wound our way to the marina. 

There, friends and family members yelled and waved to us, welcoming us home.  What a rush! Of course, now I would have a large audience for my (yes, I know) last docking of the trip. The pressure was on, knowing I would be under the microscope. With the wind blowing from the North and outgoing current going the opposite direction, I pulled into the fairway and attempted to back toward Slip #C-19.  The current grabbed the boat and started pushing me into the adjacent docks.  I was certain the wind would be the stronger of the two forces, but I was wrong.  And all these people are thinking, “How did so called “captain” get this far, the way he drives?”  I hit reverse as the current carried me sideways.  I was able to clear the boat on the face dock (by a safe margin) and regather my thoughts.  I turned the boat into the wind with the stern facing into the current, and proceeded to zig-zag into the slip, like I knew what I was doing.  I got a small round of applause from the members of the audience who were boaters.  I was far more relieved than proud at the outcome, because there were lots of pictures and witnesses.

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With many friends present, and 2 of our kids (Ben and Clint and wives and grandchildren) I was humbled.  Here we were home, safe and sound, hearts packed full of special memories and friendships that we will share for a lifetime, and all these kind folks were here to celebrate the closing of this chapter of our life, America’s Great Loop.  Amanda and Wes crossed their wake and are now, officially, Gold Loopers.

Trip Statistics

Distance traveled 6,231 (statute) miles

Hours (engine) 811

Average speed 7.7 mph

Fuel burn 3.87 mpg

Gallons used 1,610

Observations

Best Day May 4, 2019: This Saturday was filled with the wood boat show, the thrill of watching kids being mentored by adults, as they built and raced their new boats.

Worst Day June 21, 2019: We crossed the Chesapeake from Deltaville, heading to Tangier Island. The weather forecast called for lots of wind in the afternoon, but our ETA was noon, so I figured we would be fine. Not so. The rough seas stirred the debris in the bottom of the diesel tanks. At 11:00 am, the engine stopped, filters plugged, 1 hour from our destination. The Coast Guard rescued us and towed us to Tangier. It took us 4 days in the marina to get the nerve to cruise again.

Longest Day October 29, 2019: We boated 101 nautical (116 statute) miles in 10 hours., averaging more than 10 knots. Very swift current and no good place to stop or anchor; we flew down the Mississippi River!

Favorite Place August 25, 2019: The Pool at Collins Inlet, Georgian Bay. One of the prettiest places I’ve ever been. They say up here a dip in the Pool will change your life.

Epilogue–Crossing the Wake

On June 7, 2020, Honey Queen crossed her wake in Savannah, Georgia. Like many before us, the excitement and emotion of the symbolic crossing was a high for us both. One lesson, of many, we learned: Crossing your wake is the accomplishment of a large team, not just two, old retired folks.

To those who made this adventure possible, we salute and celebrate you. Larry, the former owner of our boat, who gave 4 days of his time to orient us with every detail on the boat he had loved. Captain Chris Caldwell, who taught us how to navigate and dock (and a 1,000 other details) the Honey Queen and built our confidence. They convinced us we could do it. To the professional tow operators, who answered our ignorant requests on the VHF, with a “1” or a “2”, we thank you for your kindness. Speaking for all Loopers, we thank Kim Russo for making this experience a positive.  She assisted in “herding the cats”, coordinating our groups to navigate the river system during lock closures.  And she lead the movement to resolve the outrageous anchoring law in my home state of Georgia.  That was a really big deal! Our buddy boats, On Missions, Salty Dog, Vitamin Sea, and All Talk II became more than friends.  Their expertise, wisdom, sense of humor, and companionship made our experience safer and LOTS more fun. Every marina operator and dock hand that caught a line, took our trash, pumped us out, and gave us local knowledge really filled a gap as we gained experience. And, of course, every Looper along the way, who became our neighbor, we are grateful to you for all the docktails and tall tales we shared along the way.  Without a doubt, the friendship of boaters brought great memories to the adventure. But the biggest recognition must go to the Admiral, the swabby, the cook, the organizer, the navigator, the roommate, and friend for more than 42 years, Amanda. She completes “my” Loop.

Fair winds, friends.

Wes & Amanda Dorman

Honey Queen

1998–39’ Krogen Hull #3 (of 51)