Monday 27-Dec, Fort Lauderdale to Florida Keys, cruising days 30: Wonderful sailing, Lake Sylvia down to Key Largo.
The high tide is at 2pm so we plan to leave around midday. We have a relatively calm morning. Flying the drone, buying petrol (gas) for the dinghy, and retrieving our Go-Cycle bikes that have been secured on Gale’s deck for the last 2 days.
Our intention is to sail directly to Marathon Key which is about three-quarters the way along the Florida Keys. With a total distance of 120nm, even if we had departed at first light, it would be too far for us to arrive before darkness falls (our average 24hr mileage being ~150-200nm). Given we don’t like crack-of-dawn starts, nor to arrive somewhere new in darkness, we plan such legs to depart during the day, sail overnight, then arrive in the daylight the following day.
And why leave today? Well, from late afternoon the wind is forecast to swing clockwise from east to south. Then staying a southerly wind for the next few days. Departing Fort Lauderdale with a southerly would put the wind on our nose (not good in any sailboat!). Leaving midday today will put us on a port beam reach, then as we curve around the coastline, southward to westward, we should stay on that beam reach all the way as the wind turns from east to south. That’s the plan. Let’s see if it works.
In the crisp early morning light, the drone images are pretty spectacular. So nice to see Cloudy Bay sitting in this small lake in the middle of Fort Lauderdale, with the beach in the foreground and city tower blocks in the background. Fort Lauderdale really is quite an interesting town and we have now viewed it from the waterways by dinghy, land by bike, and air by drone. A pretty thorough reconnaissance I would say!
We lift the anchor at 1:15pm and gently motor through the shallow entrance to Lake Sylvia and out into the busy main ICW channel. Then it’s full throttle to catch the 17th Street Bridge opening time which starts at 1:30. We get there just in the nick-of-time to tag onto the stern of the last boat through. Perfect (lucky!) timing.
With the forecasted wind strength at only 5 kts, we had anticipated it would be marginal for sailing. So once out the port entrance and heading due-south we unfurl the sails, sheet them in tight, and continue motoring with the Gori propeller set to overdrive. The true wind is just aft of the beam, but with the engine thrust the apparent wind moves forward putting us on a close-hauled sail with the wind nicely accelerated and 40 deg off the bow. This is a great benefit of motor-sailing in such light wind. The boat speed is up there at 7-8kts, yet the engine is hardly working at all. Meaning low fuel consumption.
But after just 30 minutes the wind already starts its swing and picks up to 8 kts. So the engine gets turned off. Now we are sailing at 45deg apparent wind, doing a gentle 5-6 knts in very calm seas. Making for a perfect late afternoon sail down the Florida’s most affluent stretch of coastline. With the beach just ¼ mile away we first pass Hollywood, then Miami. A beach coastline backed by a continuous row of condominium tower blocks.
As the afternoon progresses the wind continues to swing, meaning we are constantly trimming-in the sails to maintain our due-south course. And I start to get a bit concerned we may have departed too late. Either that, or the wind is swinging earlier than forecast. If we get to the point of being hard on the wind and still not managing our 180 degree heading, we will have to put the engine back on, and it would be a real shame to spoil this delightfully tranquil sailing.
With our old sails, the closest I could sail to the wind was about 39 degrees apparent. But these new EPEX sails are a different story. We have the autohelm set to wind (steering to apparent wind direction) and to my amazement we can now easily sail 31 degrees to the wind. And better still, Cloudy Bay is doing 7kts in 7.5kts of true. This is where I sit in the gin & tonic seats (aft deck seats) and watch Cloudy do her stuff. There is nothing quite like a gentle upwind sail, in calm seas and almost spooky seeing the water rushing by in such a light breeze.
As we pass Miami Beach a huge cruise liner comes steaming out of the port doing 20 knts, on a direct collision course with us. Momentarily I contemplate squeezing ahead of it but given it’s coming out of the narrow ship channel it won’t be altering course for us. So we ease the sails (almost flapping) to reduce speed and let the ship pass in front. Just as we do that, we get a call on the VHF asking what our intension is. A ship calling us? Wow, that makes a pleasant change. Normally it’s us calling the ship to enquire intentions. I tell him we are going behind him. As it comes closer the situation looks increasingly dodgy, so we completely furl away the sails, bringing Cloudy Bay to an almost stand-still. While it is good to go safely behind this monster, it’s not good to get too close to its stern wake, so we rush around ensuring all hatches and windows are sealed, in anticipation of being hit by waves.
As the glitzy monster fills our complete view, blocking the late afternoon sun, we hear the screaming “noise” of the ship’s DJ, who obviously loves the sound of his own voice. And we look at each other and roll our eyes, as we often do with many aspects of cruise liner holidays.
Gladly the wake is not as bad as we anticipated and it’s soon far away from us and peace is resumed. It was especially nice to hear the DJ’s voice fading!
A little further south, we get a wonderful sunset over Biscayne Key and its state park. Here the coastline finally starts to turn and we can put some west into our trajectory. But the wind is also swinging, so we continue sailing hard on.
As this point, we have a decision to make. The Florida Keys is lined with a shallow coral reef about 3-4 miles offshore. The obvious route is to now turn into the shallow back-reef area between the land and the reef. This route will allow us to turn right a bit sooner and free off the wind. But it also means navigating a channel through the shallows at night. In some places the depths go down to 3m and that doesn’t feel safe. Plus, there will be turning points in the channel and we will be restricted in movement while sailing hard on the wind. The other option, the apparently safer one, is to stay ocean-side of the reef (east of the reef) in deeper water. But it also means we cannot turn quite with the wind so soon and may have to end up motoring to avoid sailing into the reef.
Given it’s going to be nighttime, we decide on the outer route. The obvious downside of this is we need to sail as close to the reef as we can, because the north-going gulfstream current comes extremely close-in here. We soon discover that in 20m or less water (just 100m from the reef) we have 0.2kt of current against us. But as soon as we go out to 40m or deeper we have a full 1 knot against us. So we hug along the edge of the reef, as close as we dare.
Another aspect of this course, which we had not considered, is the bloody fishing boats! All along this reef drop-off there are many small open boats with fishing rods and lines out. None of them have AIS, and while most have lights some are very poorly lit. The only way to see them is Oana looking out for lights and me glued to the radar screen searching for their tiny dots. At one point we sail right by one, less than 50meters away on our starboard side, only to find there is another unlit boat, equally as close, on our port side! It makes for a busy and rather stressful evening. Maybe the channel behind the reef would have been the better option after all!
By midnight we are level with Key Largo, still hard on the wind, now with a SW course. And, thank goodness, most of the fishing boats have taken flight home. Either that, or we ran over them without noticing!