1/19/01 | Fort Pierce to Miami Beach

ships passing in the night

Like a dolphin playing in front of a sailboat, we rode to Miami on the bow wave of a cold front. First we motored to Fort Pierce to fuel up at the commercial dock. We were held up there for several hours while an empty bulk carrier, seized by the Coast Guard, was tugboated in to the dock next to us. (It was going to be sold at auction, so we briefly debated whether we ought to buy it. It would sure give us a lot more room than we have now, but with 14 feet of draft empty, our cruising grounds would be limited, and filling the fuel tanks would probably empty our bank accounts. Oh well, we'll keep our current boat.)  The prop wash from the tugs created wild currents, alternately pushing Windom into the dock, then pulling us away so hard that we thought our dock lines might snap, and we didn't dare try to leave the basin while they were still maneuvering. It all worked out well, though, because the delay gave us a favorable current through the Fort Pierce inlet, and the strong pre-frontal winds made it a fast sail all the way to Miami.

We stayed around one mile offshore, so the west wind didn't get much of a chance to kick up any waves. (The only thing that got kicked up were five flying fish, which I found on the windward side of the deck, dead and stiff, the next day.) It was an uneventful night except for passing the busy Lake Worth and Port Everglades (Fort Lauderdale) inlets, where we had to do a little ship-dodging. At Port Everglades, the radar clearly showed that an oncoming ship was not on a collision course with us, but I got unnerved looking at the red and the green lights coming ever closer, and gave the ship a call on VHF to make myself feel better. The radioman assured me that we weren't in their way, but I stared alternately at the radar and at the ship's lights until I was satisfied that we were clear.

Government Cut at Miami was the busiest inlet of all. We arrived around 8:00 a.m.; immediately after we entered the channel, we were overtaken by an incoming ship and then passed by an outgoing one. We passed down the main channel, huge cruise ships docked on both sides, then turned under a causeway bridge and back toward Miami Beach, where we anchored just off South Beach. Despite the relatively calm passage, I hadn't managed to sleep at all, while Britt had come down with a cold, so after arriving we just laid low for a few days. The cold front brought a little cool weather and even some fog, but by the next afternoon it was hot and sunny, true Miami weather.

It seems pretty wild to be anchored here, between the artificial islands covered with expensive houses and condos, and the Art Deco buildings of South Beach. It's a short walk from the dinghy dock by the Marine Police station to the business district and beaches. We went ashore and did a little shopping and people-watching. The people here are amazing to watch:  muscle boys in short shorts and earrings, tall, gorgeous, unbelievably thin women with huge breasts and perfect makeup, Cuban expatriates, Hasidic Jews, and the occasional tourist. Nose rings, navel rings, designer clothes, designer bodies. We feel very badly dressed and out of shape among all these Beautiful People. Fortunately, nobody gives us a second glance, because they're all staring at much more interesting human scenery.

the amps march in, the amps march out

For the most part we've had sunny, calm weather, ideal for getting a handle on the performance of our new solar panels. We are getting about 30 ampere-hours a day; not as much as we would like, but certainly not bad. (The refrigerator uses about 35 Ah a day; our total daily power use is probably around 75-100 Ah.) We notice huge swings in output as we swing around at anchor, going from nearly 7 amps flowing in to less than 3 as our position relative to the sun changes. We might be able to improve things a little by moving our topping lift halyard, which is tied to the arch and may be shading some of the panels. We knew that because of our wind generator and radar poles, and because we can't tilt the panels toward the sun, we wouldn't get anything like the theoretical maximum. But every amp helps. On days like today with both sun and wind, the amps flow like beer at happy hour.

Our power generation may be working well, but we're having major problems with power storage. Our house batteries have been getting worse and worse. On the way down the ICW last year, about six months after we installed them, we started noticing that they weren't performing up to spec, so we called the manufacturer. The man we talked to told us to equalize (deliberately overcharge) the batteries, which we did, and it helped a bit, but eventually they resumed their downward slide. By this November they were giving us only half the amp-hours we expected, and we equalized again. This time, nothing improved, and the batteries just got worse. Fully charged, they only maintain 12.70 volts or less (they were 13.0 when new), and drop quickly, hitting 12.20 volts (half charged, and the point at which we run the engine to recharge) after using only 60 or so amp-hours. By contrast, when new they provided 250 amp-hours before hitting 12.20 volts.

This has been very discouraging, since the new AGM (Absorbed Glass Mat) battery technology was supposed to be the best thing since sliced bread. When we bought them a year and a half ago, we were enticed by their reputation as being maintenance-free, quick to recharge, slow to discharge, and most of all, long lasting. We had decided in November we could live with slightly underperforming batteries, but the latest drop in performance was just too much. So we called the manufacturer, Lifeline, who were so amazed that we were having problems with their batteries that they called their Miami distributor to arrange for us to exchange our bad batteries for brand new ones at no charge. Yay for warranties!

Of course, things are never easy. The distributor is, naturally, nowhere near the waterfront, so we'll have to rent a car. The size 8D batteries we have weigh about 165 pounds each; using sailing tackle off the end of the boom, we could probably get them from the engine compartment to the dinghy, but we probably couldn't get them out of the dinghy. So we'll spend a day or two at a marina, rent a car, and do the battery exchange. While we're at a dock we can wash our poor salt-covered boat, and it's always useful to have a car. We'll get mail sent out here for one last time before we get away from the land of cheap postage, then start looking for our weather window to cross over to the islands.