Date: 09.09.07 / Depart: 1400 Port Isabel / Arrive: 2030 Port Isabel/ Temp: 92 deg F. / Wind: SSE-10mph / Skies: Partly Cldy / Water: Clear, 88deg F. / Seas: <1’ / Tide: Standing high to falling

“The air was so clean and the water so green he just stuck right to his task”

- Jimmy Buffett, Havana Daydreamin’

What can I say? A perfect day in paradise…..It wasn’t that I wanted to go through all of the effort to get ready to go, as much as it was the need to go that inspired the Sunday raft up.

The commander called pretty early on Sunday morning. He was over at Renaissance cleaning up the rigging. I told him that I had been promising the twins that I would let them do some fishing with their new poles, which they had not used since getting them for their birthday. And I was gonna uncover and clip  on the canvas, give Olivia’s own rigging a little exercise…He said that his own engine needed the exercise and so I said I’d call when we left the dock and we made plans to rendezvous out there and raft up….maybe enjoy a beverage in the quiet of the early fall bay, Most of the powerboaters, the bay sport fishermen were out hunting dove this second opening of whitewing dove season anyway.

And so, well past the crack of noon, and after the traditional leisurely Sunday brunch at Costa del Mar, we headed down to the boat….but first it was a stop at the Modern Venice channel to try and cast net some bait.

Now I don’t know about ya’ll, but throwing a cast net in the stifling heat of the mid afternoon is not my idea of fun. Especially a 6 foot diameter net. I can toss a little cast net with deadly accuracy, but a 6 foot monster…..that takes real talent and technique, neither of which I possess. I would sneak up on a beautiful school of maybe ten or twelve finger mullet, gather up the net (….a true effort in itself), and then heave it out there, where it would proceed to half open up in a semi taco shape and plop in the water sinking over huge hunks of oysters, which I would retrieve and deposit on the bank, panting and sweating…. After about ten lopsided half open, water flailing, embarrassing attempts to get bait, we had two small piggy perch and a belly up croaker in the bucket. At this rate it’d be late in the afternoon before we got enough bait to fish with, so I conceded (it didn’t take any real persuasion) and sent the crew off for frozen shrimp and ballyhoo. I briefly considered throwing the entire net in the canal, retrieval line and all so that I could justify buying a 3 footer…..I kept thinking; “whatever possessed me to buy this monster in the first place? Was I just showing off at the store for the tourists or what?”

At ‘Div I set about getting things ready to go….got out the 110 genny, the sheets, uncovered the main and mizzen, checked the oil, turned on the seacock and batteries, and stowed everything that can fly…..according to my philosophy: Anything that can fly……will. It was unbelievably hot down below, with no wind or breeze generated in the slip, and out on deck not much better. I had taken off my flip flops, but after almost acquiring second degree burns on the soles of my feet, decided to put them back on again as I rigged up the jib, sweating rivers onto the deck.

It took a while to find the windless handle, which had most ungraciously decided to hide out in the lazarette, and in response, I barked at the crew who were also affected by the heat, the twins lying down on the pavement under the covered slip next door in a state of semi-lethargy. 

Finally, at 1400 all was ready,  we tossed off the dock lines, steamed out of the channel, and headed for the fingers exit into the Bay. A most gorgeous day lay ahead of us, with a light wind blowing across the bow, cooling us off. The water was unbelievably blue, as it sometimes can be.

Near the causeway underpass, we spied Renaissance heading our direction. We had thought about anchoring up near Pirates Landing pier, but on second thought, I decided to motor way over to near the Island, so I called the commander on the VHF and told him the change of plans.

We let go the hook in water about 6 feet deep and crystal clear, and I backed down on the plow, burying it in the sand. The commander pulled alongside on our lee, and we tied off, putting out fenders. I rigged up the twins fishing rods, and settled down to a well deserved beverage.

As always though, conscience got the better of both Renaissance and Olivia and soon, we were both in the water changing zincs, scrubbing hulls and props and inspecting through hulls, taking full advantage of the rare water clarity and warmth. I dove again and again under the hull to scrape ‘Divs prop, which was already lightly encrusted in barnacles, Amazing. We just splashed her in May…..

Not much scrubbing on the hull, just a little scum, the Petit Trinidad seems to be doing a superb job of things in this salty biotic soup.

It wasn’t long before the twins and D were in the water too, splashing and frolicking in the clear warm blue liquid, and a peaceful afternoon passed too quickly….

Around 1800 the tide started to fall, and we clocked around on the hook, bouncing to a small, less than comfortable swell.

The sea signaled that it was time to go.

The commander untied, and backed off, turning down towards Port of Call, and we winched in the hook, turned our nose into the wind and hauled up the canvas. Running downwind, Savannah drove Olivia under the causeway, her first command. Exiting on the north side she exclaimed the same axiom that we always say; “The wind does get funky here!”

….not a bad job for a 10 year old though….

Take a virtual sail with Savannah and Olivia as they shoot beneath the Queen Isabella causeway

Poled out and wing-on-wing we sailed almost all the way to marker 15, then stowed the canvas, motoring back in to the slip as the sun exited, stage right……

I kept wondering to myself. Why haven’t we been doing this all summer?