We left Hardie’s marina on the Miami River at about 1230 on Thursday. We were stocked well with food and water. I had my little inflatable dinghy, which I decided to keep down below decks, and our 3.3 hp outboard that I usually use for my canoe. The diesel and water tanks had been topped of by the kind previous owner of the boat , Charlie. We also brought an extra 5 gallon can of diesel. As we had headed out of the tight slip, the 34 foot boat seemed huge. We managed to get out into the Miami river without a problem. Although this boat needs some spit and polish, I felt confident in the mechanical integrity of it’s systems. Charlie was quite fastidious in its’ mechanical upkeep, and there were even some new spare parts on board. In addition to this, the boat, a 1986, has very low engine hours for it’s age (450hrs). Moving down the Miami River, we have to pass through 7 drawbridges. We had done this drill a week ago prior with Charlie, but it is still a different experience compared to just sailing away from the dock. As Charlie had pointed out on the day of the sea trial, there is one recalcitrant bridge operator and he held his reputation for us as well, taking his sweet time to stop traffic and open up, while we idled in the very narrow channel between large tankers and crab boats. Once we got under the large bridge of the Rickenbacher causeway and into Biscayne Bay, we hoisted sails and got into the mood of a serious voyage. I had previously plotted all necessary coordinates on our chart plotter GPS, so all we really had to do was go the way the arrow pointed. I did have appropriate maps aboard. West Coast and the Keys I had borrowed from my father in law, the East Coast and the Keys had been given to us by Charlie. We took down the sails to pass under a bridge between Card Sound and Barnes sound. On the chart, the vertical height was listed as 65 feet. Our mast height is 47 feet. As we approached, it looked smaller and smaller. When we got close, Pali said, “ I don’t think we’re gonna make it”. Now, although I looked at the numbers on the chart, when you approach what looks to be a very small bridge, with a very high mast, and someone tells you that you’re not going to make it, somehow that possibility needs to be considered. I quickly recovered and knew that no matter how old the chart could be, they just don’t change the height of a bridge, even if they build a new bridge. She said, “ nope, we’re not gonna make it!” , this as we were 30 yards from the bridge. I closed one eye and gritted my teeth and slowed down slightly as we cruised under without a hitch. It looked VERY close, and indeed, if you do the math, 65 and 47 are not that far off. The next small fiasco was at some point we were sailing through Barnes sound And I was on deck fiddling with something and Pali had the wheel. I have to tell you first that on and around Marco Island, if you see the bottom it’s already too late and you’re in big trouble. The water here, although it looks nice and blue in most areas, is stained mainly with tannin from the roots of Mangrove trees and makes it very difficult to see the bottom until you are in 2 feet of water. Anyway, I’m up on deck and happen to look into the water and THERE’S THE BOTTOM!!!! “ Spill the sails !” I yell to Pali, asking her to slow the boat down. We slow down and she checks the depth finder and we have 7 feet. The boat draws ( the keel extends into the water) 4.3 feet. So, we were fine, and the water was 7 feet deep and crystal clear all the way along the keys. We never got used to it. I could not look down. In fact, I kept saying “ don’t look down”. We anchored in a little cove on the South side of Barnes sound, alongside on Key Largo. We used our propane lamp to conserve battery power. Charlie had cautioned us that while on of the boat’s batteries were good, the second was questionable. We had the anchor light on, and I hung a lightstick in the cockpit so that a small, fast moving fishing boat would be able to see us. We had sandwiches, and made coffee with a propane camping stove. We had music with our portable CD player. It was a very nice evening. In the morning, it took some work to get the heavy anchor up. It also has maybe 15 feet of heavy chain, and I was not used to such a heavy load. Our last boat, a Hunter 27, had a relatively short length of chain and a much smaller anchor. In addition to that, this new boat had a Bruce anchor, while our last one a Danforth. I found that the Bruce held very well, but again, lot’s of exercise to bring it in. We started down the very small channel to Blackwater Sound, and found a very small drawbridge and hailed the operator under the new boat name. “ Bascule Bridge this is sailing vessel PALI requesting Southbound passage”. He obliged quickly and in Blackwater sound we found quite a few anchored boats and a small gas station. I suggested that we top off diesel, but we had more than ¾ tank full, and our 5 gallon jerry can so we decided to keep going. It was 7 am and the station was not open and might not open until 8 or 9 am. We pressed on under Yanmar ( engine) power. The next series of channels was quite complicated and very tight. At one point, I miscalculated slightly but Pali caught me and we cleared a very shallow area. As we cruised closer to the Florida Bay, a lot of crab traps started to appear. The further we went , the more traps there were. They were all right in the middle of the channel. The danger here of course, is getting a trap line around the keel, rudder, or, worst of all, the propeller. I had brought fins, diving mask and a knife, but getting under the boat was the last thing that I wanted to do. WE maneuvered around the traps continuously, which of course burns more fuel. There is no room in these areas to sail. Before we got to Long Key, a storm hit us. This is early afternoon on Friday. I had all the weather reports on board that I had printed from the national weather service, and there was a chance of rain. There was also supposed to be a cold front coming down from the North late Friday, early Saturday. This is what my father in law had warned me about. The weather service said” weak cold front, late Friday, early Saturday, followed immediately by a large high-pressure area. Winds predicted at 15 knots, seas 5-7 feet, which is no fun, but not life threatening. Anyway, we made it through the storm and then it was very clear, and I thought that maybe the cold front had come in early and further West than expected. As we rounded Long Key and were at the big “ Right Turn “ to head North West to Marco, we decided to keep going. Big mistake. This is where lack of real experience, and our over confidence in having a “big boat”, really became our downfall. As you will read, the “ big boat” soon felt as though we were riding on a Styrofoam cup. As we got close to Cape Sable, the wind picked up, and up. Near to sundown, the wind was at least 25 –30 knots with gusts to 35 or so. Seas became 7 feet, then to 9 feet, then 12 feet or more ( it had been reported to me later that a charter boat from Ft Myers reported 15 foot waves on the way to Key West that day ) Then it was dark. Although there was a full moon, it was slow to come up. Luckily, there was no rain at all. It was a clear night. We were literally climbing waves and knew that we had to find shelter. Pali went below to change the batteries I the GPS. Amazingly, we had bought a big pack of batteries and they were all dead. Every one we put in the GPS read LOW BATTERY. At this point, Pali was getting very sick. We were climbing huge waves and crashing in the troughs. We had green sea water coming over the bow and were swallowing lots of it. Pali took the wheel and I went below to find any shelter on the charts. The best plan at the time was to try to make it to a very small place called Little Shark River. It was tiny on the chart, with nothing else around. Worst of all, it was directly into the wind and waves. We were now off the coast of Cape Sable. Another possibility was Flamingo, but we would have had to turn back and the water on the way is very shallow. This is especially important in a sailboat in a storm, because if the water is 5 feet deep at low tide, the boat draws 4 feet, BUT the swells are 4 feet, well, it’s not a good situation. We tried desperately to make it to Little Shark but we weren’t getting anywhere. We were barely holding our position at full throttle. The water all around Cape Sable is shallow also. Pali kept asking if we could just head to land, but this was dangerous. If we dropped anchor in these waves, it could be big trouble. We were getting low on fuel. If the anchor was down and dragging, I would have a hard time getting it on deck and moving again. If the line broke, we would be back where we were before, fighting the waves. I though in these situations I would head back for Long Key, but this was over open water again, farther into the ocean. There is also a very, very tiny passage to get to the keys that is called yacht channel. I had barely made it in nice conditions on the way up. In fact, I had touched bottom briefly. There was a full moon and it finally showed itself. When there is a full moon, tides are very high and low. We found some of our used batteries, cleaned them well,and got the GPS to work briefly but long enough to verify our position and check the nearest tide table. I maneuvered closer to the coast of Cape Sable, we were near the Northwest Cape. A boat flashed lights at us from the shore, they were obviously caught in this mess as well. It must have been a motorboat, because he was very close to shore. All I could do was to use my flashlight to flash him back to say” you’re on your own”. I’m sure he could tell that we were a sailing vessel because of the light at the top of the mast, and there was no way that we could join him, even for moral support. There is a small place called Big Sable Creek that he seemed to be tucked into. This is 4 feet deep, and right in the wind. We headed just South of the NorthWest Cape point, slightly out of the direct path of the wind. I dropped anchor and let of a lot of line. We showed 7 feet of water, but we had 2-3 foot swells. We had to try it. The tide was coming in anyway. 10pm. I told Pali to try to sleep until 2 , and then I would sleep 2-5 am. Next very low tide was going to be at around 8 am. We decided that we would plan to move at 6am. If the weather were still bad, we would check the depth with a line, and move slightly further off if we were too skinny. If the high pressure came in we would get going again. I sat up and the boat rocked violently. The wind howled. I though about each thing I would do, step by step, if the anchor slid, the line broke and so on. I prayed. I remembered that I had hugged and kissed my boys as my parents took them to drop them off to school, but my daughter had climbed into the car first. I said goodbye but did not kiss her. What I would not give to kiss that little pink cheek, I thought. I pushed back thoughts that we were not going to make it, but those thoughts were there. I prayed until 2 am. In the bunk, I could not sleep so I kept on praying and tried to get some rest, knowing I would need it. Later I joked with Pali that I prayed so much, that I though surely the pope would meet me at the dock and say” you win”. I thought about my kids getting on without us. They are very close to both of our parents, and that thought made me feel a lot better. At 5 am, the seas were 2-4 feet. I tied a padlock to a line, and tied light sticks at 6 and 8 feet. The water was 7 feet. We could not stay. Pai stayed below and I pulled anchor and got under way. 2-4 foot seas seemed like a lake compared to the previous night, so I kept going and pointed at our correct heading, which was offshore again. Pali stayed down below. At this point, a dolphin swam directly up to the side of the boat where I stood. Not alongside the boat, right up to me, and came up, looked at me and swam away. There are times, especially tough times, when I feel the presence of my deceased grandparents, and I now felt my grandmothers with me. I knew that things were going to be ok. I moved along , riding the swells, I felt like a cowboy. A half an hour later, the wind speed doubled and the waves were back to 7 feet. I decided to try again for Little Shark River, which was inland. This took me about 2 hours of fighting waves, but as I got closer, what I thought were markers were 2 sailboats anchored in a tiny bay, I mean about the size of a few houses, just inside. When we followed the narrow channel we found it extremely tight. WE anchored in the middle of the channel in 7 feet of water. One of the boats immediately headed out. They looked like experience cruisers. They seemed to follow the shoreline closely when they left. Soon after, the next boat headed out of the channel. Obviously experienced cruisers as well, they had cans of diesel and water tied along the lifelines. Pali said hurriedly “ call them and ask if we can buy some diesel”. I thought it was a crazy idea, they were already headed out of the channel. They were heading South, with the wind and seas behind them, toward they Keys. I fumbled with the binocs and tried to call on the radio “ Insippe? This is sailing vessel Pali at Little Shark River, come in, over”. I could not quite make out the name on the back of the boat. He answered,”sailing vessel Indigio” I asked about the diesel, and quite shockingly he said, “ sure, I think we can spare some diesel”. We were saved. We had burned most of what we had and I had added the extra 5 just before the storm had hit us. As I said, they knew what they were doing. They turned around and gave us specific instructions on the radio of how we were going to tie up together. As they approached, husband at the wheel and wife on the bow, they were the kindest faces I had ever seen. We tied up. I tried to give them 20 bucks for the 5 gallons, they gave me correct change back. The woman was Linda, an I’m sorry to say that I cannot remember the guy’s name.We discussed the weather briefly and asked their advice on a few things, then a hug, and they were off. I did get their email address. We made coffee and had a nap. When we awoke at 2 pm, something was not right. The boat leaned ever so slightly to one side. We had swung around on our anchorage and ended up on some mud. Time to move. I pulled up anchor, I should insert thanks yet once again to Charlie who kept a pair of heavy duty work gloves in the anchor locker. If not for these, I would not have skin on my hands. Pali backed us off. I looked to the sea and it actually looked somewhat calm. We headed out, bound for Marco. Now we were moving in 2-3 foot swells, engine humming. I felt like a cowboy riding the swells. I was having fun. It had been a while. After some brief pleading, I agreed to go inside, along the edge of land toward Goodland, rather than far off, around the shoals of Cape Romano. This proved the safe bet. Off the coast of Lost Man’s River, the engine started to loose power. I knew that it had to be the fuel filters, of which there are two, the primary and secondary. When a boat runs under power in those conditions, the normal junk that accumulates in the bottom of any fuel tank gets stirred up and clogs the filters. We put the sails up and headed for Pavilion Key, which has very short water all around but I though would be a safe place to work on the engine and get some rest. We made it, anchored for from shore in 1-2 foot waves and I got to work. I sang praises for Charlie still again, he had new filters stored away for just such an occasion. I was very confident in the engine work, having maintained the beloved little one cylinder Yanmar of my previous boat. This was the same thing with 3 cylinders. I spoke out load to myself as though I were teaching an imaginary Yanmar class “ Now class, as we do not have a spanner wrench available, simply tap the retainer ring of the primary fuel filter to loosen it”. When I tried to separate the water separator from the secondary filter though, it was way too tight. It would not budge, and the separator is a fragile plastic piece. Someone put it on too tight. Damn that Charlie! I finally got it loose with a filter wrench and a plastic hammer. I tightened the alternator belt. Added oil. Cleaned the sea strainer. I bled the air from the fuel filters. I went to fire it up. It was now about 9pm. It would not start. I then realized that I had forgotten to bleed the injector pump, I quickly did that and the little Yanmar purred to life. I shut it down and we decided to have a nice evening. We had coffee, soup. I found out that the hot water heater, which I had though ran only off of shore power, also utilizes the heat from the engine, so we both had a hot shower before settling down to some restful sleep. We rocked gently in a light chop. In the morning, I pulled anchor and ran the engine for a while to make sure that she was running ok. What a beautiful sound. Then, we hoisted sails, with the main reefed ( made smaller ) and had some difficulty when the main halyard ( the rope that pulls up the main sail ) got caught around a light on the mast. Then we were off around the shoals of Cape Romano and off to Macro. Now I saw a very large sea turtle, Pali saw this one also. I felt an overwhelming presence of my Pop-Pop, my mother’s dad. This was a huge sea turtle, old, with barnacles on his back, just swimming along. When I saw the island, I radioed the Marco Island Yacht club and asked the dockmaster to call our parents to let them know that they would not have to fight over custody of the kids. Coming along Kice Island, along side a crab trap, a smaller sea turtle turned swam gently in a circle. He lifted his head to watch us go by, which I had never seen a sea turtle do. In fact, I have only seen four previously in the five years that I have been sailing. In him I felt my Grandfather, my Dad’s father, who had not been doing well for a week or so. I realized, by this feeling of presence, this watching over me, being there with me, that he was no longer alive. I felt all the strength that I had drawn from him in my lifetime, the great memories, and the things that he taught me. I was not sad , I know that he will always be there, with the others, when I need him. It was 12 oclock, and I estimated that we would be home at around 2pm. When I arrived home, I learned that my Grandfather had died at noon that day. Needless to say, we were overjoyed when we pulled our boat to the dock. It once again felt like a big boat. I have to say also that Pali and I were just an amazing team. It was, overall, a great experience to share together. Would I do it again, yes.