You didn't think you were gonna get off that easy, didja?

more JOY everywhere!'s photostream on Flickr.

Just a few of my favorite things.

Municipal Chickens: 5 Things That Make it Key West

San Francisco's got it.  So does New Orleans.  Boulder has its own version of it. Santa Barbara and San Luis Obispo have glimmers of it. New York doesn't need it; ditto L.A., they've got other things going for them.  Chicago tries to get it, but can't quite. Milwaukee just tries to be Chicago. There are others, but you get the idea. I call it "ititude." It's that je ne sais quoi, that singular, yet still not quite definable character of a place that makes it a destination. There's an ethos about places with ititude that makes you want to go back, rather than go somewhere new, vacation after vacation. You start to think of yourself as a part-time resident. Gradually, you begin to patronizing the bars and restaurants the locals frequent. You half-seriously consider retiring there. You get homesick when you get back home.

Parts 3, 4, & 5: (Still) Planning Our Escape, Managing Risk in a Small Sailboat

Quick recap.  Part 1 discussed the hurricane box and our plan to depart wherefrom.  In Part 2, I wrote that we were planning to head for Cartagena.  Now a month has passed, between that post and this one.  If I would have written a Part 3, I would have explained that we changed our minds and decided to go west of Cuba, instead of east.  We planned, then, to hit Isla Mujeres (an island off Cancun), go south to the Bay Islands off Honduras, and then back north a bit and into the Rio Dulce (Guatamala).  In Part 4, I would have said, "Guess what, we changed our minds again!" Our new new plan, then, was to give Rio Dulce a miss, but still take a route west of Cuba: Isla Mujeres, Bay Islands off Honduras, islands off Nicaragua that belong to Columbia, and then the San Blas Islands of Panama (more properly referred to as Guna Yala). 

So that brings us up to date and ready for Part 5.  Yep, you guessed it, we're going back to our original plan: Cartagena here we come. 

Will Leap for Lattes

Taken outside of a Starbucks on Duval St. in Key West, just another example of the interesting animals that people train here.  (If you can't see the video, you can find it on our Facebook page) 

Top This (A Travesty in Two Acts)

                                                                                                                                                        ACT I

Scene 1

SETTING
Place: Hawk Channel, Florida Keys
Time: Early Sunday afternoon

Cap'n Jane and her trusty XO, Ean, are approaching Looe Key Reef where they plan to pick up a mooring ball for a couple of hours so Jane can put on her snorkeling gear and try out her new
underwater camera.

Cap'n Jane

OK, Let's put the sails down.

XO Ean

WTF!

Cap'n Jane

What's wrong?

XO Ean

The topping lift just came undone!

(They both look aloft.)

Cap'n Jane

Oh, yeah, there it is.  I see it.  Good thing you stopped winching when you did.  We'll deal with that tomorrow.  OK, I'm into the wind.  Drop the main.  

Final Status Report - Marathon

Marathon: the drive-thru key

At last our last night in Marathon (please, God, please, God)!  When we first came back to The States, we were moored at the Garrison Bight Marina in Key West.  Our hope (and therefore my plan) was to spend a few days there before making our way over to Marathon for our many and much needed repairs.  We were there not more than 36 hours when The Good Captain Jane noted that we had but a brief, one-day window of favorable weather by which to sail to Marathon.  As of the following day, and for something in the neighborhood of six days thereafter, the wind would be right on our nose.  Our abiding commitment to sailing when at all possible induced us to leave Key West early the next morning and make for Marathon.  I was not happy about this in the least.  I knew with the deepest possible intuitive certainty that a--wait for it--month in unscenic Marathon with technicians crawling all over our boat would catapult me into a state of serious antijoy and I was not at all amenable to starting especially before getting a few more days of the therapeutic benefits of Key West.  "But," offered our skipper, "the sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave."

...Oh, really?

What's in a Name?

Today, not unlike the last going on four weeks worth of days, we are in Marathon, FL waiting for our JOY to receive transplants of most of her "organs."  Marathon, as evidenced by its one road, the Overseas Highway which connects all the keys to the Florida mainland, is a drive-through town.  This is not only our opinion, but also that of the several residents I've surveyed.  Even they say that there's not a lot to do here for fun; for fun there's Key Largo and Key West.  Marathon's draw is its affordability.  Live here, play somewhere else.

our home and our home away from home

This begs the question of what we do here day after day while JOY remains barely inhabitable for the want of innards.  We got lucky with our slip assignment.  Jane asked for a spot as close to a wi-fi antenna as possible which also happened to be next to a spacious tiki hut.  Most of our days are spent here.  Jane orders things we need, keeps up with her facebook pals, writes posts to our blog and to Cruiser's Forum, and keeps track of things political--all with her iPad.  I mainly work on our website.  One day we moved our pc, our mac, our printer, our scanner, and our new portable refrigerator out there and got a lot of "officey" things done.  Well, Jane did.  I mainly worked on our website.  We affirm our love for that tiki hut daily.

The Art of Slow Sailing

As we made our way from Great Harbour Cay to Bimini, and from Bimini to Key West, we had some Light Winds.  Also, some No Wind.  Ean has been playing a new game.  Let's call it How Long, and here's what one round looks like.  First he looks on the chartplotter to find out our SOG, or speed over ground, and then he uses the "ruler" function to measure distance.  Next, some quick mental calculations.   He says, "At our current speed, it will take us 122 hours to get to Key West."  Then he starts wondering how long our water will hold out.  Will we run out of food?  "You know, this isn't even normal walking speed," he reminds me.  "This is wandering-through-an-art-museum speed."   Gazing toward land, he asks if I will dinghy him ashore, so he can walk down Key Largo.   "Then," he explains, "you can pick me up at the end of the key, and oh by the way I'll have plenty of time to stop for lunch.  I'll bring you something!"

We have been practicing the Art of Slow Sailing.