Adieu, Carrabelle

We had a successful trip home and back to retrieve our truck and trailer out of storage. Our road trip south was two long days of driving, but it was a kick to cross the Ohio and Tennessee Rivers on bridges that we had traveled under by boat, and we spent the night in Paducah, KY, one of our favorite towns on the rivers. 

At our marina’s boat launch, we hauled Dragonfly out at low tide and slack current—the first time it’s been out of the water since last August. We’re spending two nights aboard on land before heading east tomorrow and launching in Sanford, FL. Our trusty vessel is temporarily a camping trailer.

We have no immediate plans to return to Carrabelle, but if we ever do cross the Big Bend, we’ll likely start or end here. Conditions on the Gulf are improving, and a group of Loopers are leaving tomorrow to go straight across to Clearwater, but we’re sticking with our decision to cruise the St. Johns River next. 

Here are some parting scenes from Carrabelle, FL:

Shrimp boats on the waterfront

Derelict sailboat in the river; exposed shoal at low tide

One more sunrise

Evening fog—the first we’ve seen in Florida

Gut check—and a change of plans

Our week in Carrabelle, FL, has been full of reflection and pro-con lists, as we analyze our situation, preferences and uncertainty about what to do next. We’re currently in a nice, safe marina in a nice, safe town, where our needs can be met. Carrabelle is small, yet very walkable and scenic, and we have easy access to groceries, restaurants and decent cell phone service. Our vessel has proven to be reliable and seaworthy, with no major breakdowns so far. Kathleen and I are are in good health and in reasonably good spirits. One of the quips that Loopers like to repeat is that after finishing the trip, plan to enroll in Weight Watchers, Alcoholics Anonymous and/or marriage counseling. While it’s not all sunsets and rainbows, and living aboard a 26-foot boat definitely has its challenges, we can proudly state that after almost five months of near-constant togetherness, we don’t feel the need for any of those support services (I know, I know, denial ain’t just a river in Egypt).

The Loop is an amazing adventure, but in all honesty has become less fun as we returned to Dragonfly after the New Year and spent much of January on the Gulf Coast in chillier and stormier conditions than we were expecting. The weather trend as we wait to cross the Gulf of Mexico is not favorable and it looks like we’re going to be here for at least another week and probably longer before conditions are within our comfort zone to tackle open water. That was always a possibility, and even cruisers on much larger vessels spend weeks waiting for a suitable weather window.

When we’re moving every day or so, there is a rhythm and drive to it, with the focus naturally on the short-term goal of where you’re headed next. During this break from that cycle, we’ve really looked at what’s farther ahead and what we truly want out of this voyage and our year of living aboard. What has emerged is that neither of us wants to sit and wait as long as it takes to get across the Gulf, nor are we really that jazzed about spending the next two months cruising the Florida Peninsula. Looking at our route planning spreadsheet—two years in the making—there are are few Florida destinations that we are really excited to see or haven’t been to before. Of course, the unexpected stops and surprises along the way are often the most fun and rewarding, but we can’t be sure. 

Furthermore, we’re already paying 3-4x more for marina slips in the Panhandle than we did on the inland rivers, and all indications are that the supply and demand imbalance gets worse the further south we go. 

Bottom line: Life is short, time and money are finite, and we both feel that sitting in Carrabelle indefinitely, then heading down to cruising grounds we’re lukewarm about just to stay on the standard Great Loop route isn’t the right thing for us to do anymore. 

There is one place in Florida, however, that we really do want to explore—the St. John’s River. One of the few north-flowing rivers in the country, the St. John’s is navigable for about 200 miles from Sanford to Jacksonville in the northeast part of the state. We’ve decided to take a quick trip home to pick up our truck and trailer, drive back to Carrabelle, and haul Dragonfly the 200 road miles to the mouth of the St. John’s. One of the reasons that we selected a MacGregor was its portability, and this is the exact type of situation where we can take advantage of that. 

Will we eventually come back here, cross the Gulf and cruise the rest of Florida? Maybe, we’ll see. For now, we have a plan to keep moving and experience a side trip that is a priority, then reassess. Our Great Loop may end up being completed in segments, we may only visit the U.S. and Canadian waters that we’re really excited about, never “crossing our wake,” and we’re okay with that. We’ve had a remarkable journey so far, with 2,430 miles under our keel, and a plan to add to that. But it needs to be fun and energizing—it is pleasure boating, after all. 

Regardless of how things turn out in life, I often find comfort in a favorite line: “And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.” 

Bonus Question: In what 1927 poem does this appear? (answer after photos)

Dragonfly art at the lighthouse gift shop

Sea turtle sculptures at the public wharf

Bonus Question Answer: “Desiderata,” by Max Ehrmann. Full text:

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Even More Carrabelle, FL

This morning it was 60 glorious degrees outside, with a sun that made a brief, but welcome appearance. We jumped at the chance to get outside and dusted off our folding bikes to visit a couple more Carrabelle sights that are farther away than we were willing to walk. 

First was the Camp Gordon Johnston Museum, the former home of the Army Amphibious Training Center during World War II. The original camp stretched for more than 20 miles and prepared thousands of soldiers for amphibious warfare on the nearby beaches of Carrabelle and its barrier islands. Dubbed “Hell by the Sea” and “Alcatraz of the Army” by trainees, the isolated and primitive camp was “hacked out of the palmetto scrub along a bleak stretch of beach,” according to General Omar Bradley, and was plagued by fleas, mosquitos, snakes and scorpions. The future Army group commander would further remark that “the man responsible for selecting that site should have been court-martialed for stupidity.” The museum isn’t large, but the exhibits are well done and held way more information than we could absorb in one visit. And we thought the location was kind of nice.

Next we biked down the road to the Crooked River Lighthouse, erected in 1895 and still an active Coast Guard aid to navigation, with the adjacent keeper’s house preserved as a museum. The light is the fourth iteration on Saint George Sound—after three successive lighthouses on Dog Island were destroyed by hurricanes, Congress refused to fund the construction of another unless it was located on the mainland. 

We were the only visitors there, and enjoyed chatting with the Iowa-born docent, viewing the exhibits and climbing the 127 steps to the top of the lighthouse. 

More Carrabelle, FL

At 41F, today’s wakeup temperature was the warmest it’s been in three days. No matter the weather, we’ve tried to be hardy Midwesterners and get outside for a long walk every day. It’s been a challenge to find new routes to explore the 4.5 square miles of Carrabelle, but we’ve managed to find something new every day. See photo journal below. We spent a bunch more time in the boater’s lounge, watching CBS Sunday Morning and both NFL playoff games in heated comfort.

Today’s Bonus Question: How many points are needed to win in cribbage? How many for a skunk? (Answer at end of post)

Kathleen and the Giant Aloe

Dragonfly art

More dragonfly art (made from a ceiling fan)

Lighthouse made with recycled bottles

House made with recycled bottles

Entrance to the local athletic complex

Bonus Question Answer: 121 points are required to win in cribbage. A skunk is a win by 31 points or more.

Carrabelle, FL

In the last post, Kathleen mentioned the gorgeous sunsets that we see on a regular basis. The sunrises aren’t bad either.

We’re parked in Carrabelle, FL, for the time being. The near- and intermediate-term forecasts for the Gulf of Mexico are too windy and wavy for our comfort level, so we’re staying put. Unfortunately, it’s been unseasonably cold—as it has been all over the country—which takes away much of the enjoyment of a mostly outdoor lifestyle. It’s expected to warm up significantly this week, but will come with rain.

Yesterday, we began the chilly morning at a lecture sponsored by the local history museum. The featured speaker was an underwater archaeologist from the State of Florida, who has been leading a study of Dog Island, one of the nearby barrier islands in St. George Sound off the coast of Carrabelle. She outlined the methods they use to map the island’s movement over time and its effects on the shipwrecks in the area. Dog Island is basically a 7-mile pile of sand, which is constantly being rearranged by wind and waves, especially during storm events. One notable storm was an 1899 hurricane, which wrecked 13 ships on its shores. Nine of these vessels were refloated, with the remaining four left to the elements. In 2018, Hurricane Michael uncovered some of these wrecks, generating much public interest and the attention of state archaeologists. Photo source: Carrabelle History Museum.

Thank heavens for the beautiful boater’s lounge at the marina, where we spent the better part of yesterday and today. There is comfortable seating, billiards, books, puzzles, and a large-screen TV, where we stayed up late to watch the Green Bay Packers’ near-upset of the 49ers. We had the entire lounge to ourselves—in the second photo, Kathleen is practicing her fiddle in the back. We had take-out pizza from across the street for lunch and dinner in this very nice space overlooking the Carrabelle River.

Where the heck is Carrabelle, FL?

We learned the answer to that question today at the Carrabelle History Museum.  Carrabelle is 18.5 miles south of Sopchoppy, FL traveling through Tate’s Hell (but that’s a whole ‘nother story). Clear as mud?!  We will be posting several times from Carrabelle so stay tuned for more info…

Greetings and salutations - KG here at the quill.  I decided to give Tony a blog break since I haven’t participated in this fun since the weather turned cold.  

We traveled yesterday from Apalachicola, FL eastward to the end of the upper Gulf Intercostal Waterway (and almost the end of the panhandle).  The GICW stops at Carrabelle, FL because the waters east of here are very shallow near the land and there aren’t barrier islands so boats have to transit through the waters about 7 miles off the coast to get to the Florida Peninsula where the GICW begins again.  This area is known as Florida’s Big Bend.  If we had our mast and sails, now would be the time to put them on the boat to sail offshore directly down to the Tarpon Springs area, but we’ve decided that (at least for now) we’re going to leave the sails in MN.  This means we are going to be traveling three or four shorter hops around the bend staying closer to shore, and seeing more of the towns along the coast of Florida. And, because of our size and weight, we have a very narrow range of weather conditions we’re willing to travel in on the gulf.  We got a little taste of this yesterday as we motored through Apalachicola Bay - we were behind the barrier islands but the wind in the low double digits and 1-2 foot waves off our quarter served as a little taste of what we’re in for.  Unfortunately, at this time of year, good weather conditions are few and far between.  Right now it is looking like the next 1-1.5 weeks will be too blustery for us to move so we’re staying in Carrabelle for the time being.  

That said, yesterday afternoon after we arrived and today we have had beautiful sunny weather in the upper 50’s-lower 60’s and we’ve spent a good deal of time walking around this small coastal town that at one time was one of the largest US producers of turpentine and then was one of the largest Florida seaports for the export of timber (which ended the turpentine boom).  

The Carrabelle History Museum had a fascinating exhibit and educational video of the production of turpentine that we availed ourselves of today.  This was an industry that flourished here due to the dense native pine forests.  The sap would be harvested from the trees and then the resin distilled to make turpentine and many other medicinal products.  The collection of sap required very difficult labor and the trees could only be “milked” for a few years before they were then cut down as lumber.  Then, as Florida became a major source of lumber for Europe and other American cities, the pine forests were cut down for lumber as this was much more lucrative than turpentine.

At the museum, we also got acquainted with the original Carrabelle Police Station that we had seen yesterday on the street - here is a picture of me at what I thought was the original Carrabelle police station:

Yes that’s a phone booth - and the Carrabelle Police Station.  Since there was only one police officer on duty at a time, and they were out walking their beat, they just had a phone mounted on the outside of a central building in case someone needed to call them.  But people figured out that anyone could make phone calls on the phone with the police department footing the bill so people would make unauthorized long distance calls on it. The only way they had to crack down on this was to put the phone in its own phone booth which also gave the police officer some shelter if needed.  We watched a very funny 1991 appearance of the Carrabelle Police Chief on the Johnny Carson show where they discussed said phone booth- police station.  But…apparently the one in the picture above is not the original booth.  When the original phone booth was donated to the Carrabelle History Museum, tourists were disappointed they didn’t have a phone booth to take selfies at so they erected  a booth in the original location for tourists.  Here’s the original phone booth station from our museum tour:

I appreciate all the good wishes and concern we’ve received with some of our recent weather.  Despite the temperatures, we have been really taken with the flora as we travel east on the panhandle.  We are seeing some areas that have small forests, but just as many in this eastern section have more grassy areas.  Some of the grasses that we’ve walked next to are GINORMOUS - far taller than I am.  The plant life is so varied and really beautiful but (of course) different from anything we have in the midwest.  It is eyeopening to realize how many different species there are of pelicans and cormorants.  And we have also gotten to see new terns, loons and even an albatross thrown into the mix.  I feel so fortunate that I’m able to just be present in this beautiful scenery and watch and listen to it unfold each day in so many different ways- that’s really the biggest benefit I’m finding to this extensive slow travel.  That and these gorgeous sunsets.  Here’s tonight’s:

Baby, It’s Cold Outside—Port St. Joe to Apalachicola, FL

It was 25F outside this morning, the lowest temperature so far on our Loop, but our 15 year-old cabin heater and Walmart comforter got the job done and kept us from freezing. We waited as long as we could for it to warm up before departing—it was only 32F when we left at 10:45 AM (we are now on Eastern Time). 

We had our closest dolphin encounter today—several came right up to our boat, and we got a decent picture of one.

I have become addicted to eating gulf shrimp and enjoy watching shrimp boats at the dock and underway. 

Bonus Question: “I know everything there is to know about the shrimping business” is a quote from what 1994 movie? (answer at end of post).

We went 31 miles to Apalachicola, which means “people on the other side of the river” in the Hitchiti language. The city was the home of Dr. John Gorrie, who was granted the first U.S. patent for mechanical refrigeration in 1851. Motivated by a severe outbreak of yellow fever, he sought a way to lower patients’ body temperature, and his discovery laid the groundwork for modern refrigeration and air conditioning. A replica of his original ice machine is on display at the John Gorrie Museum in town. 

We’re docked at Scipio Creek Marina in Apalachicola, with our Illinois friends on Ebbtide parked behind us. We set out on foot to explore the town before sunset, then ate leftovers aboard, even though there is a restaurant just steps away from the dock, with this cool wall of fishing floats.

Bonus Question Answer: Forrest Gump, which won the Oscar for Best Picture that year, beating out Pulp Fiction, The Shawshank Redemption, Quiz Show and Four Weddings and a Funeral. 

Port St. Joe, FL

Yesterday was a weather day spent in port, with morning rain and a brisk north wind. We did some sightseeing and errand-running in the chill in lovely Port St. Joe (not Joseph), FL, population 3,300. Founded in 1835, the town averages only three feet above sea level, with its highest point at eight feet, and was a leading producer of salt for the Confederate Army during the Civil War. 

It was a relaxing day, as our cabin heater kept up with the falling temperatures outside, and we ventured out again for a hearty dinner at Quatro Locos Tacos & Cantina.

Words to live by😀

Historic Cape San Blas Lighthouse

Pelicans and cormorants provide steady dockside entertainment 

Panama City to Port St. Joe, FL

Following a relaxing and peaceful stop at Emerald Harbor Marina, we took advantage of another lovely day on the water to keep moving across the Florida Panhandle. After crossing East Bay, the intracoastal route enters Wetappo Creek, a narrow, secluded and very beautiful waterway bordered by marsh, swamp and scrub, with the occasional house and cabin. 

We’ve seen plenty of abandoned and derelict vessels (ADVs), the official name for wrecks, both commercial and recreational, They are a big problem all over the country, and especially in Florida, where local and state authorities have enacted restrictions on the anchoring rights of pleasure craft in certain waters. The basic tenet is to eliminate irresponsible boaters by keeping out live-aboards and cruisers, and the flawed logic is largely supported by influential waterfront property owners and non-boater politicians. Every year there are new bills in Tallahassee to make it harder for transients like us to enjoy Florida waters. 

We’d heard good things about Port St. Joe, FL, and decided to take the side trip. To get here, one has to leave the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway, travel down the five-mile Gulf County Canal, go out into St. Joseph Bay in the Gulf, follow the coast for two miles, then enter the harbor. We’re at Point South Port St. Joe Marina, which was completely rebuilt after Hurricane Michael destroyed it in 2018. The new marina is gorgeous, largely empty and offered us an amazing view of the sunset from our dock.

You can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant

We slept in, awoke to a beautiful day, and discovered some more interesting chainsaw art on our way to brunch.  I’ve always wanted to eat at a restaurant called “Alice’s,” and finally crossed it off the bucket list. Bonus Question: Who wrote and performed “Alice’s Restaurant Massacree,” the 1967, 18-minute, Vietnam War protest song? (answer at end of post).

We left St. Andrews, briefly shared the channel with this inbound ocean freighter, then traveled a quick 10 miles to Emerald Harbor Marina in beautiful Watson Bayou on the east side of Panama City, FL.

Our three-day dolphin drought was broken; we saw several underway, although it’s still hard to capture them on camera.

It was in the mid-60s with a bright sun when we docked, and the warmth felt amazing. There are four other Looper boats here—Livin’ The Stream, Ebbtide, In Cahoots and Little Red Fox—and we know them all. We passed a fifth, Yippee-Ki-Yay, in the bay, who snapped this picture of us.

After getting caught up with everyone, we took a walk into town, did laundry, ate dinner aboard and watched the sun set, moon rise and the stars come out.

Bonus Question Answer: Arlo Guthrie. The song is autobiographical and largely true.

Another storm weathered—Freeport to St. Andrews, FL

The wind and waves from Winter Storm Gerri didn’t die down until after dark, but they eventually did and we were able to get a good night’s sleep. Gerri wasn’t as bad as expected, and nowhere as severe as Finn. 

We awoke early yesterday and left Freeport in the chilly 42F weather for a long-ish travel day. Choctawhatchee Bay was still a bit riled up,  and the first hour and a half was choppy, until we entered protected waters, an 18-mile canal called the “Grand Canyon Cut” by locals. The banks of this canal are high sand dunes, surrounded by wildlife refuge and national forest.

Sand dunes along the “ Grand Canyon”

Tow working along the canal

Couldn’t tell if this sailboat was occupied or not

Odd stuffed animal menagerie on the canal bank

We traveled 46 miles to St. Andrews, FL, an attractive and pleasant community that was annexed by Panama City in 1927. We fueled up at the municipal marina, which is still rebuilding after extensive damage from Hurricane Michael in 2018, then tied up in nearby CSS Yacht Basin, a well-protected, 20-slip harbor right in town. We went for our usual pre-dinner walk, had a great meal at Thai Basil restaurant, played our usual post-dinner game, then  bundled up for the night. It’s still chilly here, but it’s below zero back home in Minnesota, so we’re not complaining. Another winter storm (Heather) is gearing up to cross the country, so the weather is always on our mind, but we will continue to move east along the Florida Panhandle when we can.

Chainsaw art in the park

Still not sick of each other!

Dragonfly in St. Andrews

Sunset over St Andrews Bay

Local shrimp boat

We didn’t catch this, and it’s not real!