October 10, 2010
Nathan called today, his birthday (and the day before my birthday – he was my birthday present 35 years ago). He’s enjoyed the last few days at Cayo Costa State Park near Fort Meyers, Florida. He’s glad to essentially be underway again, says he has more to talk about. Indeed. Some of is it funny. Some of it is ominous.
"I had an interesting event happen and got a little money in my pocket from it," Nathan said. "I was a little bit concerned about getting all the way down to Key West and being flat broke.”
While camped on the island containing Cayo Costa State Park, Nathan met four middle aged people who were excited about journeying on the water. They were in a 14-foot boat similar to the “johnboats” used in Ozarks fishing float trips. The boat had two gasoline motors: a couple of ancient Johnsons from the ‘60s: one 40 horsepower, the other 5 horsepower. Eventually, after having a good time camping on the island, the people (two couples, I think) shoved off. The johnboat, or whatever it was, was overloaded: with the people, their sleeping bags, their coolers. “They decided not to bring an air conditioner or a microwave, but that was about it,” Nathan said. Nathan, too, went sailing. “About 100 yards out, their engines quit. That’s why I hate gasoline engines. A million things can go wrong and it never runs right (Waltzing Matilda has a small diesel).” At this time Nathan was cruising at about 3 knots and he spotted the johnboat dead in the water, with the people waving at him. “Need a tow?” Nathan asked them. “Oh, do we need a tow!” was the reply: in their overloaded boat with dead engines they only had one paddle among them and they were 8 miles from where they had first launched.
So Nathan begins to tow them and there is a problem: he can’t find the channel markers. He has no idea where he is going (with them in tow). The water gets shallow: the depth gauge reads 2 and ½ feet, which is not possible because Waltzing Matilda draws 3 feet; then Nathan realizes that the sea grass is high and the depth gauge is reading the sea grass.
It’s a Sunday and a lot of boats are out and about and they are causing large wakes behind them. As a result, the heavy-laden johnboat starts taking water, so they have to start bailing. As the sorry parade moves along, Nathan hears a splash. He looks back to find that one of the men who had been sitting on the bow of the johnboat with his legs dangling over the side had fallen overboard. Nathan immediately stops as he sees one hand coming up from the water, hanging on to the boat. Then two hands grab the boat and Nathan determines that the man has the towline tangled around his leg. Nathan throws him a flotation device. The man moves himself to the side of the johnboat and tries to pull himself aboard. The overloaded johnboat now has an extra 200 pounds pulling down on one side, so it starts to roll over. The man then goes to the stern of the boat and pulling himself up, pulls the gunwale of the johnboat to within 2 inches of the water. Then a fast boat goes buy, 15 feet away, pushing up a big wake. “This is about to get bad,” Nathan thinks. But the man made it aboard with no more problems and they resumed the tow to the marina, with the man now wisely wearing a life jacket.
Upon reaching shore, the people thanked Nathan by giving him a much needed $70.
Also, Nathan said that while at the state park he had taken his kayak to a lagoon in the middle of the island. The water was about 4 feet deep and fairly clear. As he moved toward deeper water, he saw fish thrashing at the surface. Then he saw a large white dorsal fin. “This is a shark,” he thought to himself.” “This is a big shark. This is a big white shark. This is a Great White Shark. By now I’m hearing dum DUM dum DUM dum DUM music from 'Jaws.' This shark was as big as a dolphin. It was as big as my kayak. It cruises under my kayak. By now, I’ve got the heebie jeebies. He comes and he bumps my kayak. In the past I swam with sharks – little ones, 1 and 2 footers. But this one was 9 foot.” Apparently the shark had little more interest in Nathan’s kayak. Maybe it had its fill of the mullets on which it had been feeding. That’s good. Somehow, “dum DUM dum DUM dum DUM” doesn’t seem to be the tune one would want in one’s head while sailing in a small kayak.
Meanwhile, it’s a new day tomorrow. “I’m going to run hard the next couple of days to get on down to Key West,” he told me. “I can see the lights of Fort Meyers. I’m going to stop there tomorrow and resupply and refuel. Fort Meyers and a little place called Marco are the only towns between here and Key West. I’m going to be sailing through 100 miles with absolutely nothing (onshore).
--Posted by Official Correspondent Dad Landry
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