Preparing to leave Key West, like leaving any anchorage where we have lived for some weeks, is always a lot of work. The day before our intended departure we took our bikes to shore and headed downtown to Immigration departure documentation. We then went to our favorite market and after using their Internet (to check weather one more time and send some emails) we purchased some specialties items for our upcoming passage. Next we sped through town to the opposite end of the island to buy some tarps and bleach, another ball of yarn, and a few fresh vegetables and some eggs. Weighed down with our purchases we headed back to Gypsy. Dan was in the lead and the traffic was heavy. We were able to ride on the bike path most of the way but accessing it required a couple of jogs that took us across some businesses directly on the highway. A car was set back from Rt 1 and appeared to be parked – until the driver pulled forward and ran into the front of my bike. He was barely moving and stopped right away to my shouts. I toppled off the bike onto the road but quickly recovered to avoid being flattened by oncoming traffic (and some of you were worried about us out on the high seas!).
Once back at the dinghy dock we took our last hot shower for the near future and chatted with people who had become a part of our lives over the past month – some of whom we do not even know their names and we will never see again, but they have a place in our memory. Once back on the boat we stowed our purchases and began the final preparations. Our dinghy was hauled aboard and scrubbed (the bottom had developed a layer of moss) and we filled her with water to try to determine where the persistent leak is. (We have more of an idea where it isn’t coming from; now are working on a plan to seal the transom.) Our remedy to discourage the cormorants from roosting on our boat (and early on they had and left their signature to prove it) was to entwine some line above the spreaders – Dan had to go back up the mast to take it all down before we left.
The next morning the alarm sounded at 7:30 AM as planned, to set out for Isla Mujeres. I had been awake listening to the rain on the hatch cover, not a sharp tapping of drops, but steady… Neither of us leaped out of bed with the usual excitement of the start of a new passage. Out of the semidarkness Dan suggested we sleep for another half hour ‘til the rain, hopefully, would stop and the wind would come up. It didn’t. We read and we ate a hearty breakfast and the rain continued. Our foul weather gear is substantial but the fog and light rain blanketed the mooring field and took away the wind. We listened to the weather forecast and at least in our area, this is not what was supposed to be happening! Morning chores were over quickly and we relaxed with more reading and knitting. Small projects started to emerge. Dan cleaned the hatch cover in the forward berth that was a Q-tip level job we each had been meaning to tackle. I washed down the ceiling and cleaned the sills on the hatches. Dan re-read our resources on our passage to Isla Mujeres and plotted the waypoints into the GPS. The rhythm of the day was dotted with inspections on deck for the state of the weather. When the rain finally did stop, the face of the water had a glass like appearance. Neither of us wanted to motor excessively. The point finally came when a decision needed to be made. Should we go or wait ‘til morning? We decided to hope for more wind in the morning. The best laid plans are subject to change. Dan worked on a slide show he has been putting together and we both were amazed how far we have come; some recent memories seemed like so long ago…
The next morning our departure was easy and graceful. I felt like we were beginning our yoga practice with the slow and gentle movement out of the harbor, past our familiar habitat. When we are in a harbor Gypsy becomes our home, not our mode of transportation and the transition back to vehicle is a special one. It feels empowering to me to have my world of basic needs compact.
Every passage has taken on its own unique personality. Sleep deprivation is a given. With only two of us, 24 hours can only be broken up so many ways. Brendon (the auto-helm) was back and we were grateful. Light winds saved us when the forestay gave way; light winds and Dan’s prompt direction as to how we would handle the situation. Flying our spinnaker was colorful and efficient. We harnessed every available wisp of air. The two pods of dolphins that we encountered had different personalities. The first were in the waters right around Key West and they stayed a visible distance away – I called them the “paid” dolphins. Tour boats gawk at them all day… Farther on there were the ones who seemed to see us from a distance, came over to check us out, swam around us, and then went on their way. Horatio (the sea bird) came aboard in the darkness; I can’t figure out how I could have missed his entrance. He did frighten me a bit as I saw his shadow in the corner of the cockpit and thought he was a piece of fabric. In my attempt to move “it” with my foot I felt the life of the body. He seemed uncomfortable when I shone the light on him so I merely talked to him for the rest of my watch. At daybreak he began to walk around and made his move to depart. I rather liked having him but knew his was only a brief visit. He moved to the top of the bimini and paused there for some thirty minutes before he flew away. I noticed some of his kind had circled just before he took flight.
Dan effectively did the Gulf Stream dance and it was approaching sunset as we neared Isla Mujeres. The recent time change in the States made us two hours ahead of Mexico, a fact we were rather vague about at the time. Entering an unknown harbor in the darkness is not advised and we would have stayed outside until daybreak if the grey light had not guided us in. We dropped the hook and stowed away the essentials. Up went our “quarantine” flag. We are in Mexico! Within an hour we were eating a light dinner and reviewing our latest adventure… Sleep was a delicious luxury, and we gave thanks…
