Tuesday 28-Dec, Fort Lauderdale to Florida Keys, cruising days 31: Arrive to Marathon Key. Bumpy anchorage outside. Move inside to the tranquility of Boot Key Harbour. Evening walk in town and drinks over live country music.
At midnight we are level with Key Largo, gently sailing SW outside of the reef. The fishing boats that we have been playing chicken with all evening have finally all headed home. Miami lights and glow have disappeared astern, and we are treated to peace and darkness as Cloudy Bay slips silently along in the light and warm breeze.
Darkness, that is, until the next cruise liner comes over the horizon and slowly passes us 5 miles offshore. As usual with these ships we can see them coming by their immense amount of decorative deck lights that would put any city illuminations to shame. But this one is even a step above the usual. As it approaches, we see a massive blue aura emanating from its starboard side. And once in view we see this strong glow is coming from a massive neon display that stretches from the waterline all the way to its upper decks. It’s so bright that as the ship levels with us it feels like someone is pointing a powerful blue spotlight in our direction. Our precious night vision is totally shot. And this is the effect 5 miles away. What must it be like for boats closer to this monster? I get very close to picking up the VHF and calling, desiring to tell them their neon light-show is very unappreciated by us normal mariners trying to do a night passage. I mean, what the hell is the point of such a display? None of the passengers can see it, so what is the benefit? I can maybe understand such a display as they leave port, but out in the ocean? Ridiculous, and annoying.
After 2 hours it finally disappears over the horizon again, on its way to Mexico and darkness is again restored.
Up until now we have just managed to squeeze down the coast, hard on the wind, and not need the engine. But by 3am, the coast had curved west sufficiently to allow us to finally ease the sails and set a defined course (rather than autohelm sailing by the wind). This means I can get some sleep, and Oana comes up to relieve me for a few hours.
2 1/2 hours later we come to the end of the outer reef and start to cut-in closer to the shore, now heading directly west for Marathon just 30 miles away. As the water shallows to just a few meters, the surrounding sea becomes a wonderful turquoise colour when we put the deck lights on. Also with the deck lights on we start to see the occasional small float passing us by. And as the dawn lights up the sea, we see these floats are literally everywhere, as far as the eye can see. More numerous than even the lobster pot floats in Maine, if that’s possible! We can only guess they each mark some kind of fish trap below? Every now and then we hear a light “thud” as we hit one square on the bow before is slides under the boat. This is certainly not a place to have the engine running at night. We are now very glad to have taken the offshore route rather than the back-reef route. If we had turned the engine on in among these floats, statistically we would have surely got one of their lines around the propeller in the darkness.
At 9am we are starting to pass the long Marathon Key. An hour before I had made a call to the Marathon City Marina asking if there were any mooring buoys available inside the sheltered Boot Harbour. Their answer was negative, but we could go on the wait list if we wanted to. But when she told me there are 17 boats waiting already, I declined. She did however assure me we could enter the harbour with our 8ft (2.5m) draft, which I previously thought was not possible.
The entrance to Boot Key harbour is on the western end of Marathon. Outside there are maybe 15 boats anchored in 3-5m of water, all bouncing around in the choppy sea created by a mixture of the onshore wind and wake from power boats.
A 9:30 we drop the anchor in 3.5m clear sand and set about having a rest. With Cloudy Bay’s weight we are not getting disturbed like the yachts around us, but still annoying enough. Especially when a powerboat comes close passed us at full throttle, leaving Cloudy’s stern banging hard in its wake. Again, this seems to be a Florida thing. Total disregard of other boat users by power boat drivers.
After breakfast and a short nap, I see on google maps that while most of Boot harbour is crammed with mooring buoys, there does seem to be a small area where boats are anchored. So I decide to go in and investigate if there is a space enough for us to anchor too. We launch the dinghy and manage to get the outboard installed in a brief lull of the waves. Then I set off with my hand-held depth sounder. I make the first measurements in the entrance channel which on the chart shows only 2.1m. But shallowest I measure is 3.2.
While doing this several powerboats come pass. One so close that its wake goes over the dinghy and gets me wet! And some close-by kayakers are nearly tipped out of their canoes. Just what the hell is wrong with these people? I bet if you met them in a bar, they’d be nice-as-pie. But put them in their boat with a thousand horsepower at play and it’s like putting a tame person behind the wheel of a BMW … something chemical happens in their brains, triggering that arrogant “disregard all other humans” mode!
Inside the harbour I soon find the small anchoring area I’d seen on Google. And as anticipated it’s crammed full. Mostly half abandoned jalopy type boats that clearly have never moved in years. Basically, people living for free in the Keys on wrecks.
I just about give up my search of a space when I find an area that is just large enough for Cloudy, tucked away behind a marker buoy with “shallow water” written on it. I guess the buoy has deterred anyone else from anchoring here. But just passed the buoy (which is in 1m of water) it deepens back to 3-4m over an area just large enough for us to swing in. Perfect. Let’s do it!
I zoom back out to Cloudy Bay all pumped up with my discovery, where I run whirlwind-circles around Oana in my haste to lift anchor and get in there before someone else takes “my” spot.
With the anchor up we are soon motoring gently into the channel. 3m is the shallowest we see. Then through the abandoned lift bridge, which previously joined Boot Key to Marathon Key, then to my anchoring spot on the right side. Passing the “shallow water buoy” we continue a bit then enter back through the anchored boats to my chosen spot. We do a couple of circles to confirm my previous depth survey, then drop the anchor in 3.5m.
While the water is totally calm compared to the outside anchorage, we wouldn’t say this spot would win any beauty contests. We have the abandoned bridge one side, the wilds of Boot Key in front with a sunken boat on its shore, and surrounded by liveaboard wrecks, some with decks crammed with all sorts of rubbish. If Cloudy Bay could speak she would surely be muttering something like “Oh my, where have you bought me into? What about my prestige?”. And on top of the visual dilapidation, we also have the boat in front with a noisy generator running no deck. Well, beggars can’t be choosers, right? We are here and the water is calm.
Late afternoon, when the heat is out the sun, we take off for a dinghy tootle around the harbour. When we reach the mooring buoy area we are impressed at how the buoys are all neatly lined up in perfect rows. In fact, row after row after row of them. There must be ~500 moorings here! But the boats on the buoys are of a much better class than our anchorage neighbors. We arrive to the City Marina dock where we find a best-in-class floating dinghy dock full of dinghies. Like the mooring field, all very nicely done.
From there we take a walk into town. Or at least we try to. Just where is “town” in Marathon Key? We look on google maps and it appears the town is lined down the side of the Key’s highway that runs through Marathon center. Schools, shops, outlets, restaurants, government buildings all line the highway. So we walk for a while, stretching our legs, until we come across a “Home Depot”. A store which is always good for a bit of entertainment when we have time to kill 😊. So in we go.
Following a few small purchases in Home Depot we head back to the dinghy declaring “Marathon town ticked and crossed” (as in: seen, done, no need to return!). We then continue to tootle around the harbour trying to see if there is life here other than the hundreds of moored boats. And we are drawn to the sound of music coming from the Dockside Bar. Apparently the only such waterside bar in Boot Key Harbour. While we are not fans of US country music, we feel a bit deprived of live entertainment. So we tie up the dinghy, find seats at the bar, and order cocktails. These arrive in pint-sized plastic cups and we sip them watching both the band and the people around us. It’s very busy, the atmosphere is pleasant, and the alcohol is hitting the spot.
During this bar time, we receive a whatsapp message from our friends in Fort Lauderdale. One of them is ill and tested positive with Covid yesterday. We work backward in time and realise we were certainly with them when they were contagious. Hmmm. Maybe our Covid time has finally come ☹ Let’s see.
Our dinghy ride back to Cloudy Bay is uneventful. The harbour certainly has a charm about it, especially at night with all the hundreds of mast head lights on making it look like a star covered sky.
Tomorrow we will have to decide if we continue exploring here, or head onto Key West which is just 40 miles to the west. A short day-sail away. Tomorrow is another day. We will decide then. Right now we are needing, and deserving, a good night’s sleep.