Weather forecast for May 23, 2018:
Boca Ciega Bay, St. Petersburg, Florida
Low 66 high 79, Occasional thunder storms
Southwest winds, 10 to 15 kts
Captain’s Log: May 22, 2018
On the morning of May 21st we departed Clearwater Beach Marina and pointed our bow south, heading for Gulf Port. The trip was anything but uneventful. The section of the ICW ahead of us was narrow and shallow. We also had several bascule bridges to pass under along the way.
About two miles north of the Treasure Island Bridge we ran into a horrendous thunderstorm that reduced visibility to the end of our bowsprit. Out of a curtain of water, with thunder constantly roaring over our heads and the wind blowing at about 30 knots, the faint, ghostly image of a Spanish galleon emerged. It was surreal. As she drew closer and her image sharpened we could see that she was flying the Jolly Roger and that her crew were all decked out in pirate regalia; she was a very authentic-looking tourist charter. We passed close to each other, port to port, and exchanged greetings through the pouring rain. She then disappeared in the watery mist to our stern.
The Treasure Island Bridge opens on the hour and half-hour. I contacted the bridge tender on our VHF radio as we approached and he instructed me to ‘put the hammer to it’ if we wanted to make the next opening. I did so, and quickly ran aground. Instead of watching my chart plotter and making sure that I stayed in the middle of the channel, I became preoccupied with making the bridge opening and strayed outside the channel markers (there was a dog-leg to starboard on the approach that I missed). Thankfully the storm had passed by this time. A call to Towboat US remedied the situation about one hour later.
At 17:15, with another thunderstorm approaching from the east, we dropped anchor off of Gulf Port on Boca Ciega Bay, not more than 100 yards from the spot where I dropped the hook just over 10 years ago.
A bit of history ....
On December 16th, 2007, me, two buddies and a charter captain spent the night on Boca Ciega and watched the annual Christmas Boat Parade. The next morning, as we were waiting for the ‘Structure E’ bascule bridge to open, I spotted Mechaya, a derelict Vagabond 47, sitting at a rotting dock at Tierra Verde Marina.
As they say, ‘the rest is history’. Now, as the reincarnated Mechaya, rechristened Perfect Love, gently rocks on these calm and familiar waters; I reminisce.
The thunderstorm slowly takes its anger out to sea and occasional flashes of lightning illuminate the distant, towering clouds to the west. The low rumble of far off thunder rolls across the water. It is almost dark. The steady drone of rain drumming on the deck is hypnotic.
Ten years ago; where has the time gone? Ten years ago I was recently separated from my wife of 36 years; three more painful years would pass before our divorce was finalized.
On December 17th, 2007, one day after my son’s 21st birthday, I happened upon the carcass of a beautiful sailboat that would change my life. That rotting hulk would bring a long-held, dormant dream back to life. It would give me a purpose when my life seemed to be falling apart. It would provide much needed therapy during some very dark days to come. It would be the catalyst for a new, wonderful and completely unanticipated relationship. It would become the magic carpet, made of fiberglass, wood and steel, that two like-minded souls would ride to excellent adventures in Paradise.
I took a chance. I placed a bet on the future, a very large bet, and it paid off big time. After nine years of hard labor, an obscene amount of money and more than a few spells of serious doubt, I now sit at anchor on the most beautiful sailboat on the west coast of Florida, our sailboat, fully enjoying all of the wonders that nature has to offer on this stormy night. Below deck my beautiful, wonderful, patient, determined, adventurous wife sleeps soundly in our cozy Master’s Cabin. Life is good! Damn good!
Fate is nonsense, you can shape your destiny! But enough memories for now; Gulf Port awaits!
The morning after our arrival in Gulf Port I checked the house battery bank, it was at 72%, so I decided to run the generator. It would not start and, after several attempts, I gave up. Having motored down the ICW from Clearwater, the main engine kept the batteries full; the genny had not been started since before we left Apalachicola. I decided to set this problem aside for the time being. We splashed the dinghy and headed for town.
Gulf Port is an eclectic, funky little town. Its main street, running away from the water, maybe seven blocks long, is populated by numerous arts and crafts boutiques, head shops and several interesting restaurants. This main drag terminates at a street that runs along the water’s edge. There are at least a half dozen open-air bars that look out over the water.
Our explorations, conducted during the early afternoon under hot and humid conditions, made us very thirsty so we decided to enjoy an adult beverage. We headed towards Manatees on the Bay, the first bar on the corner of the main drag and the edge-water avenue.
The place was packed, packed with middle-aged (and older) women. There were maybe four or five men (including the bar tenders) in the entire crowd of at least fifty people. It was also karaoke day, or afternoon, or night, and the female minions were into it big time.
Upon closer examination we both noticed that many of the women were holding hands, or caressing, or hanging on each other to varying degrees. And then it became obvious – the place was full of lesbians.
Trying hard not to stare, we headed for the next watering hole. More lesbians. We were later told, by an older gentleman who was sitting next to us at yet another bar, that Gulf Port is the gay/lesbian capital of the west coast of Florida and, with June being "Pride" month, the practitioners were just starting to hit stride. He told us to stick around for the first weekend in June if we really want to see a show. Unfortunately, our schedule would not allow us to stay in Gulf Port until the weekend but we did make a few new friends and had a real good time at Salty's and O'Maddy's. Back at the boat, after an afternoon of partying, Shirley made sure that we had a perfect end to a fun day; she surprised me with a Zima! ZOZ, Zima!!!
It rained hard most of the next day and, before the storm hit, Shirley and I grabbed our laptops, phones and iPads and headed to the library; our intentions were to enjoy the air conditioning while recharging all of our batteries. Under the rainbow colored LGBTQ sign marking that section of the library dedicated to 'alternative lifestyles', complete with child-oriented materials, we planned the next leg of our trip.
On the dinghy ride back the to the boat we passed an older, over-weight gentleman, standing alone in his cockpit, completely naked, waving to us. Shirley waved back and asked me to circle around for a second pass; I respectfully declined. Time to head for St. Pete!
Until next time, fair winds and following seas.