To my wife, Joanne, a diesel purrs. Our kitty cat’s motor she finds soothing, bringing a sense of peace to an evening. Out on the Gulf ,Eagle’s Wings’ diesel’s steady purr sounding more to me like a putt-putt wound up to 2300 rpm stuttered then stopped. Silence under a moonless night on a rig studded sea followed. Rigs like stars on the water surrounded us.
For years, on our evening walks at Waterford Marina where Eagle’s Wings, our Catalina 350 sailboat, and before her, her predecessors were berthed, we often stopped to share stories and dreams of cruising faraway places with our boat neighbors. For some, the dreams never passed Redfish; for others, dreams carried them far across the sea.
One such dreamer was Sharon Kratz, a regular contributor to Telltales. I crewed with Sharon and her husband Joe on their very first offshore trip to Port Aransas. From the Freeport jetties to the Port Aransas channel markers, Sharon barfed as she lay face down in the cockpit of Rose of Sharon, her carefully prepared watch schedule forgotten. Fruit hanging in mesh bags turned to mush as the bags repeatedly mashed into the sides of the salon. Everything stowed in the aft cabin lockers moved forward and everything stowed in the salon lockers moved aft to mix into one unruly heap of stuff. As for myself, I was thrown out of the head three times, once through the door breaking the door lock off in the process. I avoided seasickness, just barely, by either spending my time sleeping on the settee below or gulping fresh air in the cockpit. I did not fall asleep at the wheel as reported by Sharon; how would she know, her head was stuck in the barf bucket!
Perhaps you, dear reader, think that such an experience would mash anyone’s sea going dream to a gooey mess but Sharon’s dream matured into a voyage across blue waters to the Rio Dulce. I suppose that her insistence that we toast our good fortune upon her sea sickened arrival in Port Aransas with a straight shot of rum testified to an indomitable and determined spirit sure to follow her dream.
What about me? For years I continued to walk the docks. I enjoyed the good fortune to know so many good sailors and motor boaters through the Texas Mariner’s Cruising Association, Waterford Harbor Yacht Club and the Galveston Bay Power Squadron. I enjoyed taking the Power Squadron’s course’s from knowledgeable and personable instructors. We participated in the Blessing of the Fleet and the Christmas Boat Parade. We sailed just about everywhere one can in the Galveston Bay area from Anahuac to Offats Bayou. A Telltales’ tee shirt once proclaimed, “Life Beyond Redfish.” Would there be?
If you read sailing magazines, you surely haven’t missed the ads for Punta Gorda real-estate. My cousin Constance and husband Bill didn’t. They had moved from Houston to Punta Gorda, Florida, bought a house on a canal, bought a sailboat, joined a yacht club thereby entering the good life. We visited several times and cruised down the coast with them once. Following our retirement, she notified us of a opportunity we couldn’t turn down, a chance to babysit a house for six months in Punta Gorda, a house with a boat dock on a canal with ready access to Charlotte Harbor! At residence in our Punta Gorda house to be were two strange cats, Misty and Peek a Boo, and a friendly whistling Cockatiel named Benny. We agreed with the owners who would be traveling in Europe for six months that we would begin house-cat-bird sitting the third week of September. Timing precluded a leisurely trip along the ICW to Florida as we were committed to cruise France’s Midi Canal the first week of September.
I planned to recuit a crew to bring Eagle’s Wings across the Gulf at the end of October when the likelihood of a hurricane in the Gulf diminishes yet before the biweekly arrival of cold fronts brings rough weather. I envisioned sailing 300 nm from Galveston directly to Venice, La on the Mississippi River. From Venice one exits the Mississippi via the Baptiste Collette Bayou to Breton Sound for a 200 nm run up to the Florida Panhandle. To Clearwater across Florida’s big bend it’s another 200 nm offshore run. Punta Gorda lies to the south via either the Intercoastal Waterway or an overnight offshore passage. This plan breaks the trip into two or three day segments and keeps one relatively close to the coast should a popup hurricane force a bailout. The plan also allows the waiting out of a frontal passage in Venice or the Florida Panhandle; I still remembered my offshore experience on Rose of Sharon. This route does, however, require threading one’s way through the many rigs off the Louisiana coast.
My call for volunteers went almost unanswered; my friend Barry who also sails a Catalina 350 responded. With only one confirmed crew, I considered the possibility of hiring a delivery skipper. Other concerns were my hearing loss and eyesight; I can’t hear high frequency sounds like engine alarms, for instance. Although I have 20/20 vision, my wife reads road signs along the interstate well before I can. Although I have never been seasick, my offshore trip on the rose of Sharon warned that seasickness was a very real possibility if the weather turned really rough. Having a seasoned professional aboard seemed like a good idea for someone who can’t hear, can’t see and who might get seasick to boot. Barry strongly recommended Captain Bill as did Josh at SeaLake Yacht Sales from whom we had purchased Eagle’s Wings in 2003.
Joanne & I met Captain Bill before we left for France. Captain Bill agreed that my plan was a good one. He had made the trip many times. He promised to check on possible shoaling of Tiger Pass that connects the western Gulf to Venice; if the pass were impassable, Port Fourchon would serve as a refueling stop. We agreed to a flat rate for an expected six day crossing to Clearwater. He mentioned that he had a friend, an awesome cook, who loved to accompany him on deliveries for free. By this time my cousin’s husband, Bill, had volunteered so that made a crew of five.
I inquired of Captain Bill of the need for lee cloths for the settees. Won’t need them; if it’s that rough, we won’t be there. A galley strap? Won’t need it; if it’s that rough, we won’t be there. Padeyes in the cockpit to secure our tethers? Won’t need them; if it’s that rough, we won’t be there. OK, Captain Bill. We set a target date of on or about the 26th of October for our departure. I ordered a life raft and an EPIRB at West Marine; stripped and secured Eagle’s Wings for the remote possibility of a hurricane; and left for France.
Enter Ike.
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