Tag Archives: Anna Maria Island

Staying Aboard

I often write about how I’m confined on my boat anchored here at the lower end of Anna Maria Island, Florida, because high winds prevent me from being able to paddle my dinghy the 130 yards to the boat ramp dock…

But then there are beautiful days like today. There’s a pretty blue sky filled with puffy white clouds and hardly a breath of air. I’m not leaving the boat simply because there’s no reason to. I have food, water and there’s a plague still raging on the land. I’m content being where I am…So I’ll just sit here picking at my ukulele from time to time and arguing with people I don’t know about politics on Facebook.

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Anchor Work

It’s nice to sit down to lunch and bask in the feeling that you actually got something important taken care of in the morning other than arguing politics with people you don’t know on Facebook.

When I’m going to be sedentary, like I have been over the winter anchored here at the lower end of Anna Maria Island, Florida, I like to employ two anchors. I set my 25 lb Manson Boss anchor and its 25 feet of 5/16” chain and ½” nylon rode out to take the weather coming from the south. The 25 lb Danforth with its 25 feet of 1/4” chain and ⅜” nylon rode was deployed to the north to handle weather from that direction.

It all worked as it was supposed to through the winter months, but for the past month or two I’ve noticed that the Danforth’s line has been more or less lying parallel to the Manson’s line. But when I’d pull on it from the bow it appeared as if the two were at a decent angle to provide good holding from storms coming in from the north or south. In addition to the wind blowing the boat in one direction of another the tidal currents flood twice a day towards the north and twice a day ebb to the south. Whichever direction the boat is facing depends on which of the two, current or wind, is strongest at the time. So over the course of a day the boat can swing around to all points of the compass. This can cause the lines to twist around one another even if care is taken to keep unwrapping them every day or so.

For a time this morning it seemed I might be forced to move MY boat because a fleet of semi-derelicts was drifting down towards me and the owner of the mess wasn’t around and calls to his phone went to voicemail. So I scooted up to the bow and started hauling in on the Danforth’s ⅜” line. The Danforth is my secondary anchor. It wasn’t easy. When I got to the chain it seemed as if the anchor was snagged on something below. It wasn’t, but over months of being pushed and pulled in one direction and another the chain had been dragged around and become fouled on the stock and flukes. It was one large ball of galvanized metal weighing around 50 pounds. The flukes of the anchor were NOT dug into the sand and undoubtedly it was simply the sheer weight of the anchor and chain that were providing any holding power. For the uninitiated these are the parts of a Danforth anchor…

 

A younger person in better health might not have been too fazed at this. But I’ll be 78 in just over a month and I have serious issues with COPD. This was going to be a challenge. One thing I HAVE LEARNED with age is to not simply plunge into something like this. So I sat there looking at this galvanized lump swinging just above the water and thought about every step I needed to take to achieve my goal. . . I cut the nylon line where it was attached to the chain through a clevis. I led the bitter end of the rode behind the pulpit railings so I could raise the anchor up on to the deck more close to amidship and left the bitter end dangling over the side.

In the dinghy I pulled myself hand over hand to where the end of the line was hanging over the side. I tied it through the clevis at the head of the stock and then went back aboard. At the bow again I let the chain that was gathered on deck fall into the water and, after a mighty heave to bring the big anchor on board, I retrieved all of the chain. It’s done it’s job. After nearly three years being submerged in salt water some of the links are perhaps only half their thickness.Time to bring it to shore. 

I put an anchor bend on the clevis and for now will keep the big Danforth on deck ready to be deployed in an emergency. The Manson Boss anchors have a good record for resetting themselves if pulled out of position. But I’m anchored in good sand and mud where I am. It’s shallow, too. Often at real low tides I’ve been aground without even knowing it until I looked over the side. I’m still good here even with one anchor on the bottom.

 

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Sunshine State My Aging White Pooper!

Gonna be a wet, nasty day anchored here at the south end of Anna Maria Island, FL. But that’s life on the hook in Florida. The MyRadar site is predicting 1 to 2 inches of rain today and 1-2 inches overnight. The challenge isn’t to stay safe. It’s to stay DRY and keep the dinghy bailed out.

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Yuck

I absolutely HATE days like this as I sit anchored at the south end of Anna Maria Island, Florida. Wind is out of the NNE gusting into the upper teens and low twenties. Heavily overcast. Overall there’s a 60% chance of rain and it’s been sixty percenting off and on so far this morning. But what I REALLY hate is that I’ve been up for a couple of hours (It’s now 9:30) and I just put on a sweat shirt. A bit earlier I donned the bottoms of my long johns. It’s the MIDDLE OF APRIL, DAMNIT!!!

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Little difference because of lockdown…

It’s a nice day anchored here at the south end of Anna Maria Island, FL., and the coronavirus is far away. It’s a bit chilly for my taste at 62F at nearly 9:30 a.m. but the sun’s shinning, pelicans skim inches off the surface of the sparkling water and occasionally dive for some fish. I hear the resident osprey’s twitter gliding in the breeze from it’s lookout perch atop a nearby sailboat mast. An anhinga pops up close by with a small hapless fish it snatched out of the school…”Hey, anybody seen Harry lately?” A dolphin’s exhale puff tumbles into my cabin. No motor noises. The boat ramp, 125 yards away, is closed. Nearly everything ashore is shut down on governmental orders but I have well-stocked lockers filled with food for a while and I wouldn’t be doing anything ashore, anyway. Just sitting around playing on my computer and trying to learn the cord melody version of Elizabeth Cotton’s “Freight Train” on my ukulele.

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Just Another Night

Even without the Covfefe19 shelter in place directives this is a “don’t go ashore” morning here at the Coquina Beach North Boat Ramp on Anna Maria Island, FL.

The last week to 10 days have been unusual. Days on end with barely a ripple on the water and no rain. But that all changed last night just before midnight. The wind did a 180 and started blowing from the Northeast. And blow, indeed. Immediately the intensity of the waves lapping against the hull increased and a few minutes later the first fat drops of rain started rebounding off the cabin top. Where the boat’s motion had been solid, as though planted in the sandy bottom of the bay, now it was rocking up and down in the wavelets and the sound of the rain soon had me sound asleep.

A large, loud BANG on the side of the boat at around 04:30 had me instantly awake. The wind and waves had increased quite a bit. I generally keep the dinghy tied up on the starboard quarter (see pic) but the wave action had caused the fender at the bow to be flipped inside the dinghy and the two bare hulls were now slamming together.

The solution, of course was to turn it loose on its painter so it would bob, unfettered, astern. I took unfastened the painter from the cleat on the cabin top, careful not to let it fly away. Instantly the bow flew off downwind. But the stern didn’t. it looked as though it was caught under the propeller of the Mercury outboard. I pulled the bow back in and it seemed as though the stern came free from the Merc so I let the bow go, again, and the same thing happened. Remember, it’s about 4:30 in the morning and I’ve been roused out of a sound sleep just a couple of minutes ago so it took a third unsuccessful attempt before it dawned on me that the line from the dinghy’s transom was still fastened to the main boat.

Thankfully the rain had stopped but the temperature had plunged. Not winter cold front cold, but chilly. Working in the dark i tried to unfasten the line from the cleat but somehow the fender had gotten tangled up. And it’s my BEST fender, too, and I don’t want to lose it. I managed to get it unfastened and flipped into the dinghy. Back at the cabin top I let the line loose once again and the dinghy slipped back and rode easily astern.

The wind was really piping away. I tried to get a reading with my hand-held anemometer but couldn’t get the screen to light up. Looking at windfinder just now I see that the winds were recorded as gusting up to 28 mph. Now folks, I AM safe. I’ve explained my anchoring system. I’m in NO DANGER. Uncomfortable, perhaps, but SAFE.

It’s about 15 degrees colder now than the last week. Winds are gusting TOWARDS, but not HITTING, 20 mph. But the sun is shining and it’s just a good day to be on the water.91748595_203351307779291_7343569060187078656_n

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Bad Weather Blues

Had to hold off writing and posting this while there was a break between storms. Yesterday was easily the WORST DAY I’ve been through here at the Bradenton Beach, FL, anchorage.

If you’re tired of reading about my complaints on the nasty southeast winds take a guess how I feel having to go through them.

They’ve been blowing hard the last couple of days and I avoided going ashore because of the “Couldn’t make it back to the boat” syndrome. But with fresh food in the cooler and no ice I needed to do a shore run. There seemed to be a bit of a break in the weather and I made a sprint to the dinghy dock. By the time I got back, and it’s only about a five block round trip, the winds were back up in the 20 mph range. My dinghy is a cockleshell and trying to paddle against it is nearly impossible at times. Yes, I’d like to have a small outboard but 1) they cost money I don’t have, 2) If you have any kind of motor on your boat you have to register the vessel. 3) I don’t have a title for the dinghy so there’d be an added level of bureaucratic bullshit. 4) Oars would be better but it was a choice between a $22 kayak paddle and $120 for a set of oars, oarlocks and the lumber and time needed to attach a gunwale and all. So I stick with the paddles.  Fortunately when I got back with my bag of ice and four gallons of purloined drinking water one of the charter boat captains was just discharging his passengers and volunteered to tow me out to my boat. I didn’t hesitate to agree to the help.

Things continued to deteriorate hourly after that.

Shortly after sunset, 7 p.m., the large Danforth secured on deck started moving around and rasping over the non-skid decking forward. Brrrrrrrddddgg! Brrrrrrrddddgg! Brrrrrrrddddgg! There was no way I was going to be able to fall asleep with that going on. I slid the hatch back and stuck my head outside. The waves were well over three feet high and the wind was screaming. The boat seemed out of control, but the anchors were holding and other than rising and falling I wasn’t dragging. Discretion being the better part of valor I decided that the anchor wasn’t doing any more than frazzling my nerves and it wasn’t worth risking my life by going out on deck to do anything with it. The last time I was confronted with a similar situation I attached the bitter end of my ½-inch line to the anchor and tossed it overboard to be retrieved later. It was too late now to do the same thing, though.

Hour after hour the wind howled and gusts rattle my little boat. I fully expected the mast gallows to collapse. I went to bed fully clothed in case I had to get up and go outside and do something to rescue myself. I finally fell asleep.

Around 3 a.m. the rain started pelting the deck. It put me back to sleep. I love that sound. It was still raining when I got up for good around 7 a.m. The wind had done nearly a 180 and was coming out of the northwest and had died to practically nothing.

When the rain had slacked off to a drizzle I stuck my head outside. Nearby was the large charter catamaran that’s been tied to the dock near shore since I arrived here a year and a half ago was no anchored just a few yards away. Strange, it hadn’t been there when I went to bed. And where was “Grace,” the little 22-footer that was usually there? Huh! Perhaps hiding on the other side of the cat though I couldn’t see “Grace’s” mast.

I checked one of the two weather sites I read and found that the wind had been gusting to MORE THAN 45 mph during the night!

Since I was down to only half a tab of my blood pressure medicine and with the wind down and the rain not threatening I decided to make a run to the pharmacy while I had the chance. Before I left, though, I went forward and hooked the Danforth to the bitter end of the ½-inch line again. As I looked up I saw, over on the rocks of the Bradenton Beach fishing pier parking lot, “Grace.” She’d lost her anchor in the night and the winds and waves pushed her ashore and onto the rocks. I’d damned near come to that fate a year ago. I was dragging anchor and fetched up about 60 feet from the rocks when my “desperation” anchor bit and took hold. That was the day before I bought the Boss anchor and the 70 feet of chain.

wreckIt’s four p.m. The sky’s gloomy with rain clouds though the weather radar on line doesn’t show any rainfall in the area. And when I looked towards the pier I saw that with the high tide they got “Grace” floating again. Apparently she hadn’t been holed. Tod, one of the genuine characters here in the anchorage had a line over to “Grace’s” bow and was towing her to a new spot to anchor. Hopefully they won’t go through that exercise more than once.

afloat

 

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