Sorority Sisters

56. Sorority Sisters

Early in the morning I made coffee. I’ve found that that’s essential. I really don’t function well without my morning cup ‘o joe. I double checked the essentials: engine oil level and antifreeze coolant, dinghy secure. I gathered my essentials at the helm and was ready to go.

I cast off the mooring ball and motored out of the harbor. I decided to go on the outside, escape the boredom of the “ditch” and sail freely in the ocean. The first ocean access inlet that was deep enough without a low bridge was a mile north.

Having successfully navigated the shoals typically found around ocean inlets, I was once again in deep, open water. The feelings of freedom, the realization of nothing ahead but the horizon, overjoyed me. It’s very therapeutic to suddenly leave the world behind.

I set the sails for a beam reach. I wanted to go north and the wind was coming from the east. Hence, a beam reach. It was a fairly stiff wind, 15 knots constant, gusts to 20+. I was making about 6 knots in 3 to 5 foot waves. My Love Boat was performing well, exactly as designed.

I was about 5 miles offshore, near the edge of the Gulf Stream. This is usually a fairly prime fishing area and the number of boats drifting aimlessly nearby verified this. Private fishing boats, all with their “spotting towers” sticking high up in the air, littered the horizon. An occasional cruise ship or freighter was visible on the horizon, far offshore. I was in my happy place.

An hour into my sail, the wind shifted more to the south. This required me to adjust the sails putting me on a broad reach slowing my speed by 1 to 2 knots. Then, Mother Nature gave me a treat. A pod of dolphins appeared off my starboard bow. 10 to 15 of the sleek mammals would randomly surface to breath, puffing out the stale air with an audible “puhh” sound and a spray of seawater, then sleekly curl back down and disappear. They are magical creatures, disappearing without a trace, only creating a wake when they want to. They were swimming parallel to my heading. A few of them split off and swam close to my boat. Amazing to watch them frolic and play in my bow wake, diving and surfacing so close by. You could see their sleek bodies just below the surface cruising along, bobbing and weaving in the currents. Pure joy!

As it got later in the day, I consulted my charts for a suitable anchorage spot. The overnight weather forecast was for clear skies and calm winds so there was no need to try and duck in off the ocean. I saw a couple of likely spots a couple of miles ahead. I tacked into a port sail, headed toward shore. In an hour or so I was a quarter mile offshore in 15 to 20 feet of water, surveying the shoreline for my nights resting place.

This was a fairly desolate stretch of shoreline. No major cities nearby, but there were a few smaller villages inland. The shore was just white, sandy beach and scrub, no buildings. I did notice a long pier sticking out into the ocean up ahead. Consulting my charts it appeared to be a fishing pier near one of these inland villages.

As I got closer, I could see beach umbrellas and people moving about on the beach. There were several people out on the pier fishing for dinner or just passing the time. I found a suitable spot and dropped hook in 8 feet of water. My binoculars revealed that most of the beach goers were families. Lots of little kids scampering about, coolers and umbrellas, beach chairs filled with overweight blobs, beer can clutched in hand, moms in their one-piece bathing suits. Not my scene. I popped a beer and made some food.

As the sky faded to dusk, the families all packed up and left. To my surprise, they were replaced by a much younger crowd who began filtering in. I did a Google Earth search and discovered that the nearby village was home to a small college.

Soon, there were a couple of tents set up, some groups of beach chairs, coolers and a bonfire.