Log & Blog & Grog for all!

This page will occasionally update readers of our whereabouts, with some notes about what we've been up to. The most recent entries are here at the top of the page; the older ones farther down:

Friday, July 23, 2010
Cholon Bay, Colombia

Silver Heels and I spent a little over a month in Cartagena. Not too bad a place ashore as cities go, but the harbor water is filthy brown, often bouncy with boat wakes, over-lit, noisy and at times downright scary in the violent thunder storms that charge through every other day during the rainy season. Patrolling police boats and a huge navy base keep the coastal pirates at bay, but dinghy theft remains an ever present threat. 

Needless to say, I was delighted to finally see all that slip astern yesterday morning. We only sailed 20 miles down the coast, but the contrast could hardly be more dramatic. Cholon is an idyllic little bay entirely surrounded by green shoreline and overlapping mangrove islands. Tropical birds make cameo appearances and a couple of peacocks on shore squawk every once in a while, sometimes answered by a braying donkey. While there are a score of private homes scattered around, mostly belonging to wealthy Colombians, they tend to be elegantly unobtrusive; of modest size and tastefully designed to blend in with the terrain. The seawater is clean, though green-tinted from the mangroves. 

There are about a dozen other cruising sailboats anchored here, widely spaced in the eastern end of the bay. Cholon could accommodate many times that number, but a dozen seems like just enough. At the core of our little anchorage is a big old shrimp trawler brought here by an ex-LA cop who built a house up on the ridge years ago. The trawler, named "Manatee," serves as the cruisers' social center and features a laid-back, friendly happy hour a few evenings a week. 

I've found the cruising boats and sailors who make it to Colombia much more to my liking than the yuppified yachties that favor the Lesser Antilles - with a few notable of exceptions on both sides. Those that get this far tend to be more adventurous, individualistic, easy-going and down-to-earth; more sun bleached and sociable. For a while back in the eastern Caribbean I was worried that what I call cruising sailors was a nearly extinct breed. Instead I'm finding that I just had to go farther to catch up with them than used to be the case. 

As alluring as Cholon is, I don't expect to stay long here. The San Blas Islands  beckon and I may have to hurry on to Bocas del Toro (Panama). There I can safely leave Silver Heels and fly to the States in about a month for a family event. 

Monday, June 14, 2010
Cartagena, Colombia

Silver Heels and I arrived in Cartagena, Colombia (South America) last Friday late afternoon after a blessedly eventless 1,000-mile passage from Grenada. Along the way we stopped over for 5 days at the island of Curacao (Netherlands Antilles). Sadly, I felt compelled to avoid Venezuela altogether due to the frequent pirate attacks on sailboats in those waters of late. I spent many happy months there aboard my last cruising boat, Sparrow, back in the late '80's and would have gladly returned with Silver Heels for a long visit now but for the very real danger of being boarded, robbed and possibly shot. What a shame! The vast majority of Venezuelans are friendly, warm and welcoming. Unfortunately, because of their screwed up government leadership (or lack thereof) and a handful of armed desperados on fast motorboats, cruising sailors like me are staying away.  

This little voyage was comprised of two 3-day hops, with the Curacao layover roughly mid-way. It being a near-offshore route across the southern Caribbean, I anticipated lots of freighter traffic. To help stand around-the-clock watches (because ships sometimes don't) I took along a young French couple I found in Grenada. These two 20-something backpackers are hitchhiking their way around the world. They turned out to be bland, self-absorbed, sloppy (by my standards) and of little use as crew. They had no interest in, let alone knowledge of, sailing, being only interested in a "cheap" ride to their next destination. To their credit, they would perform specific tasks when asked, and they stood their watches and woke me when freighters came too close. So their presence served some useful purpose. Our parting was not unfriendly, but I was glad to be rid of them as soon as we arrived and I'd be loathe to take on young backpackers again as crew lest they really knew how to help sail a boat... and liked it.

The passage itself was often dream-like. Sailing downwind is so much more pleasant than most other points of sail, especially offshore. Even so, when the trade winds piped up to 25+ knots and the following seas grew to maybe 10' it did get rolly on board, Silver Heels rocking dramatically side to side as she scooted along at 6-8 knots. The wind finally died out on the home stretch and I was forced to motor across a flat sea the last night & day. 

So, here I am in Latino Land, a different culture altogether from the West Indians I just left. From what I've seen of Cartagena so far it is a booming, affluent, relatively safe city. It boasts a quaint, attractive 'old town' area that is the main attraction here for foreign tourists. Otherwise, it seems like a miniature Miami with its many modern high-rise apartment buildings and trendy middle class locals. Not really my kind of place, but I'm committed to staying for a couple of weeks at least. An old friend, now sailing his sloop down from Florida, is due here within the week for a planned rendezvous. We'll do a little hell-raising together here before carrying on to Panama. 

Friday, May 28, 2010
Grenada

Monday, March 29, 2010
Grenada

I wrote an article about Grenada last time I was here, which appeared in Cruising World magazine. Now, 17 years later, I find that while this island has shared in the development and tourist boom that has so effected the Lesser Antilles, Grenada has not lost its essential friendliness and charm. It and Martinique/Guadeloupe are still my easy favorites of all the West Indies. 

Silver Heels and I have based ourselves in the Hog Island anchorage, a pretty, sheltered harbor about half way along Grenada's south coast. To date there is no development at all around this cove, a rare find for an eastern Caribbean cruiser these days. Sadly, though, and I suppose inevitably, that's all going to change soon. Some mega hotel conglomerate - Four Ambassadors, I think - has plans in place to bury beautiful Hog Island under ten thousand tons of concrete, steel and glass to create yet another grotesque tropical tourist Mecca. I'll bet the assholes even change the name to something more marketable, like Brandywine Isle. (Oy!) Fortunately for us humans, their development plans are on hold pending who knows what and Hog Island survives a little longer in its natural state. No one expects this blessed hiatus to last, though. It's only a matter of time until the monsters descend, armed to the teeth with heavy machinery, big bank loans and their trademark insatiable greed, to destroy one more piece of paradise - perhaps the last piece - in the name of Progress and Profit. 

Geez, here I am ranting again. Sorry, but I still get pissed off every time I see it happen. You'd think I'd have learned to accept it by now. Not!

For the time being, anyway, uninhabited Hog Island, with it's perfect little white sand beaches and green, rolling hills, is a lovely playground for anyone with a boat to get there. It's also a gathering place for cruisers every Sunday afternoon when a local entrepreneur, Roger, puts on his weekly barbecue beach party, complete with $2 beers and a live reggae band. It's a lot of fun and a chance for us liveaboards to meet each other and socialize. I remember Roger's "bar", a Gilligan's Island kind of driftwood and palm thatch shelter, from my last visit here in 1993. It's a little bigger now, but still looks like it belongs. Rough wood benches & some tables, a couple of hammocks and a rope swing complete the decor. 

Roger's is also a hangout for locals from the village of Woburn, less than a mile away by boat. These young and not so young natives, many of them sporting dreadlocks, come over in brightly painted wood skiffs with outboard motors and pass spliffs among themselves while us white cruisers drink our cold beers. Still, everyone sings and dances together when the band gets going. Peace, mon. Love, mon. Every'ting cool, mon. 

Tuesday, March 02. 2010
Grenada

We've arrived. More later.

Sunday, February 28, 2010
Carriacou, Grenada Grenadines

Regarding my rant below, things did perk up once I got to Carriacou. This happy little island still exudes much of the old West Indian charm I've been seeking (and missing). I attribute this largely to a scarcity of tourists, very few charter boats, and no cruise ships at all. As a result the residents remain casual, friendly and welcoming. No hustle, no hassle, no problem, mon. What a treat! 

Monday, February 22, 2010
Mayreau, St. Vincent Grenadines

Wednesday, February 17, 2010  
Bequia, St. Vincent Grenadines

Silver Heels really kicked up her heels on the 20-mile hop from Martinique to St. Lucia, beam-reaching across 15-20-25 knot trade winds under full sail: 135% genoa, yankee staysail, main & mizzen. It’s the first time we’ve had such ideal conditions since I started cruising last June, and friends, I'm here to tell you this boat can fly! At first I was tickled to be maintaining 7+ knots for the crossing, the boat standing upright like solid oak, the decks nearly dry in spite of 4-6' cross seas. She remained stiff as the breeze freshened and - are you ready for this? - kissed 8.3 knots half-a-dozen times and held 8 for credible stretches. This is an old ketch fully loaded & provisioned for long-term liveaboard cruising, water and fuel tanks topped off, the dinghy in the davits, dragging a fixed, locked 3-blade prop, with the windvane steering. Speeds were GPS SOG readings, but any current was, like the wind, on the beam and not behind us. 8.3 knots! I didn’t know Silver Heels could do that. What a ride! What a boat!

We spent only one night each in St. Lucia and St. Vincent. The harbors all seemed too crowded and/or rolly and/or mooring-infested and/or boat boy infested and/or (in one or two cases) life-threatening. Finally came to rest in Bequia for a few days. Admiralty bay is a spacious, clean anchorage without threat of attack by disgruntled Rastas. Still an easygoing vibe ashore, too, despite the considerable growth of tourism since I last visited there. Bequia is a nice place to visit even though the harbor is thick with unregulated, sometimes unreliable moorings set out by native entrepreneurs, making anchoring very difficult. Crowded, too. Easily a hundred boats here today; probably more. Also, as in a few other harbors I've stopped in these past couple of months, some goddam nightclub on shore here broadcasts jungle boom-boom music through mega-ton speakers most nights well past midnight, the bass so penetrating even silicone ear plugs can't entirely shut it out. 

Sunday, February 14, 2010  
Sainte Anne, Martinique

Silver Heels and I have been in Martinique for 3 weeks now. It feels like longer, probably because I’ve finally been able to slow down. No weather fronts to beat or deadlines to meet or dates to keep, no crew to accommodate, no pressing boat repairs or projects. It's nice for a change. I be on island time, mon. I'm even writing a bit. Sold an article to Blue Water Sailing magazine a while back, and just sent a new piece in to Cruising World the other day. And I've resumed work on a book I'm writing that's been sitting on a back burner way too long.

I spent some time in Martinique years ago and loved it. Have wondered what it would be like now. Well, it's still beautiful, the people are still very friendly, and I can still get by on my little bit of French (which gets a little better every day). But it's also much more developed along the leeward coast now, crowded in some places that used to be nearly empty, with way too many boats clogging the harbors. Expensive, too, for those of us living on US dollars. (This is a French island; they use the Euro.) The main thing urging me onward, though, is that I have not found that one particular harbor here, a place where I can tie up in a small, laid back marina near a pretty, out of the way village. That's what I'm looking for, a cozy corner of the Caribbean to settle into for a while, use the boat as a waterfront cottage, and focus on writing, hiking, little boat improvement projects, short cruises, and just being. I have not found that place in Martinique - the few marinas here are not to my liking - nor in any of the other islands I've passed through recently.

So I'm moving on, towards Grenada. I've heard there are now a couple of small marinas in the pretty harbor where I anchored Sparrow for some months in the early '90's. I'm going to check them out. It should be less expensive in Grenada - the currency is EC, the Eastern Caribbean dollar - and it’ll certainly be easier to communicate since they speak English. Grenada is a particularly beautiful, friendly island that I visited several times in years past and always liked. No doubt it has developed during my long absence as have all these islands, but I don't expect it'll be on the scale of Martinique. We shall see. I'll begin slowly island-hopping that way tomorrow, when I cross to St. Lucia.

Saturday, January 23, 2010
Sainte Pierre, Martinique  

Silver Heels lies at anchor in 30' of clear Caribbean water off the very French town of St. Pierre in the northwest corner of Martinique. This is the top of the Windward Islands. In the past 10 days since leaving Nevis we've stopped at Guadeloupe, Iles des Saintes, and Dominica. A pity we had to rush like that, but my niece/nephew crew have flights booked from here back to the States in a few days. 

La Martinique, as the French call this island, has always been one of my favorites of all the West Indies. Seeing it again now reconfirms that preference. The inhabitants are almost invariably friendly and helpful, sometimes even stopping to offer a ride in their car if they see you walking in their direction. This happened yesterday when we hiked up to a big rum distillery on the slopes of Mount Pelée. 

Mount Pelée, an immense, green clad volcano, dominates this end of the island. It last erupted in 1902, wiping out the entire population of St. Pierre, some 30,000 people at the time, and destroying a dozen ships in the roadstead. Today things seem quieter and we're heading into the high mountain rain forests east of here in search waterfalls. Life is good.

Returning to Martinique is something I've privately been looking forward to these past few years, and it marks a waypoint in my cruising life. I plan to hang around a while, maybe do some writing and work on my French. Pourquoi pas?

Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Oualie Beach, Nevis

This evening we’re anchored in an idyllic cove on the north end Nevis, one of the eastern Caribbean's Leeward Islands. Silver Heels lies off a white sand beach graced with a low-key inn, a tropical bar and a great wifi signal. Stars glitter by the millions overhead, unfettered by man-made lights. It's about 80-degrees, the gentle island breeze perfumed by green foliage and wild spices. The good people of Nevis haven’t suffered the overdose of tourism that plagues some others in the Lesser Antilles and so they remain kind and friendly to visitors. The livin' is easy here.

My 28-year-old nephew is crewing with me for a couple of weeks, escaping the frigid New York winter. He and I get along well and it's fun having him aboard. Eric flew in to St. Maarten on the 6th of January. After some fast preparations and provisioning, we set sail at dawn on the 9th, fighting our way sixty miles southeast that first day against a strong ESE’ly wind and a rough chop. Silver Heels weathered Statia’s (St. Eustatius’) windward side and then plowed along the west coast of St. Kits (St. Christopher) to a remote, blessedly smooth anchorage on that island’s southwest corner. In the morning we chugged another hour or so southeast to Charlestown, island of Nevis, and cleared in. Here we’re hanging out, waiting for Eric’s sister (my niece), Britt, to join us for the remainder of the sail to Martinique, still 150 nautical miles SSE. Along the way we may stop overnight in Montserrat, and then spend some days visiting Guadeloupe, Iles des Saintes, and Dominica. 

Thursday, December 17, 2009
Simpson Bay, St. Maarten

We cast off Beaufort Docks at 9:30 AM on Sunday, December 6th, and dropped anchor in Simpson Bay, St. Maarten, Netherlands Antilles at 2130 hrs. (9:30 PM) this evening, thus ending my first offshore passage with Silver Heels, and in fact my first long offshore passage since I sailed Sparrow back from Europe in 1993! My all-girl crew for this trip, Davina and Jennifer, were very good shipmates. Both stood their watches without complaint, voluntarily - even eagerly - braved the foredeck in rough weather, and provided pleasant company to boot. I could hardly have asked for more.

Silver Heels did well, too. Some equipment broke, most notably a blade of the wind generator and the Shaft-Lok, both of which caused some inconvenience. The boat's 32-year-old interior joinery groaned and creaked in heavy seas like the timbers of a mine on the verse of collapse, but she seems to have come through it in tact, with no visible signs of the stresses she endured from 10-15' seas - short, steep seas! - pounding her relentlessly for days on end in 20-35 knot winds.

As for the captain, I confess it took me a few days to thoroughly get my sea legs in those conditions. Never got sick, but didn't feel all that great, either. But once we all settled in for the long haul, things were not too bad. We were never in great danger. The passageweather.com forecasts I used to time our departure from Beaufort were pretty good, except the wind generally turned out to be 10 knots stronger than predicted and slower to shift. Worse, the seas were disproportionately short & steep so that 10-12 footers packed a real punch and the motion onboard was damned uncomfortable. We all grew thoroughly sick of it and were very glad to reach the Horse Latitudes where the wind eased off (but never died) and the seas smoothed out. Finally found the true trade winds, albeit a bit further south than expected, and finished up on a fast broad reach for the final leg. Altogether, the last 4 days - in the Horse Lats & then the trades - were idyllic sailing with warm, sunny days and awe-inspiring, star & meteor filled nights, plus the requisite flying fishes on deck most mornings and one fair size dolphin fish (mahi-mahi, not Flipper) that was unwise enough to bite the lure I was trailing.

Anyway, it's all history now. St. Martin is way too touristy and developed for my taste, but a welcome respite nonetheless. Will probably stay here until around New Years before heading down islands. Got some things to fix. And since Jennifer and Davina are leaving, I'd like to find at least one replacement crewmember, preferably cute.  

In a moment of weakness I forsook my normal standards, however moderate they may be, by inviting crewmember Davina to continue sailing with me on a more... personal basis. This was a mistake. She had been asking me to take her down islands on Silver Heels and I explained that I had no interest in cruising with platonic female crew, but that if a lady mate felt inclined to cheer up the old captain from time to time, well, we might reach a friendly accommodation. (I am nothing if not straightforward.) Sure, she was broad of beam aft, a bit top-heavy aloft, rather in need of cosmetics and had the party mentality of a teenager, but for all of that she'd have been a temporarily acceptable port in a storm. The woman worked hard at broadcasting her sexuality, both in dress and in body language, often shaking her ample hips in time to any music that happened to be playing. By her own account this has won her countless sexual "conquests" ashore during her travels, though who conquered whom may depend upon who's telling the story. Anyway, this hard-ridden, pushing-40 damsel thought I was too old for her. Certainly there was a considerable maturity gap. So Davina moved ashore to spread her... joy among the native population. According to her own blog she continues to reconfirm her womanhood in every port as she crews her way around the world, her own personal crusade for world piece.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009
22° 52’ N x 063° 17’ W

Friday, November 27, 2009
Beaufort, North Carolina

Busy now with final preparations to sail from Beaufort, North Carolina to St. Maarten (St. Martin) in the eastern Caribbean. That's about 1,400 nautical miles of non-stop, offshore sailing. Lots of final projects getting done - just installed 2 new autopilot systems - and final provisioning is yet to come. I have a lovely all-girl crew joining me for this passage. Davina and Jennifer are due to arrive this weekend. Our scheduled departure date is next Tuesday, December 1st, just 4 days from now. However, the long-range weather forecast (www.passageweather.com) suggests that we may have to delay that for a couple of days to depart in reasonable conditions. This is, after all, a bit late in the season and the autumn gales are raising Cain out there. Sailing dates are always "weather permitting." 

In my mind, this departure marks the end of Silver Heels' "refit," which has lasted just one month shy of 3 years! - and the beginning of "boat improvement projects" and general maintenance without end. The main difference is that now we're cruising.

So, more soon from the sunny Caribbean!

Monday, November 2, 2009
Beaufort, North Carolina

Little has changed these past months. Silver Heels remains on a mooring in Beaufort, North Carolina. She has benefited from the completion of several more refit projects, including a beautifully (if I do say so myself) re-insulated refrigerator compartment. I was away most of October, first working the Annapolis sailboat show, then visiting family in NYC & Connecticut. Now I'm into the final push to get a bunch of new equipment installed on the boat before our circa December 1st departure for St. Maarten in the northeastern Caribbean. Two enthusiastic young women have signed on to crew for that offshore passage. Hey, somebody's gotta' do it.

My local music group, Neo Trio, has gotten noticeably better. We've played a number of successful gigs, repeatedly packing the chic (for Beaufort) venue called Cru Wine Bar, most recently this past Halloween night. Way fun! 

Monday, July 27, 2009
Beaufort, North Carolina

Aside from one day sail, Silver Heels has been tied to a rented mooring for the past month, directly across Taylor Creek channel from downtown Beaufort. Today, however, I took her on a scouting mission to a creek 8 or 10 miles away, where we are now anchored for the night. According to some of the old salts 'round these parts, the ones who really know, this creek I'm in is the best hurricane hole for many miles. The next comparable spots are twice the distance away. 

North Carolina gets more than its share of hurricanes most years, and since I'm spending the season here aboard my boat I have to be prepared in advance to deal with them. That means knowing exactly where I'm going to take Silver Heels when a storm is tracking this way, including  being familiar with the entrance (this one is tricky and, for Silver Heels, tide-dependent), the holding ground (soft mud), and the terrain (low, but high enough that the neck between my anchorage and the open bay has not been submerged by storms in the remembered past). 

I feel a whole lot better now having my hurricane Plan A in place. Here's hoping I don't need it.

Otherwise, I've been hanging out in Beaufort. I'm playing music with my friend John Nelson's band. We've already had two paying gigs and we're booked for several more in August. I've always been a guitar player, but in this trio I'm making my debut on electric bass, which is to say this old dog is learning a new trick. It's both challenging and extra fun. 

I spend most days picking away at Silver Heels' never-ending list of boat renovation projects. Currently re-insulating the icebox. All is well and life is good. 

Friday, June 19, 2009
Beaufort, North Carolina

We're lying to two anchors in Taylor Creek, Beaufort, North Carolina, having sailed (and motored) up the East Coast from Green Cove Springs, Florida over a 9-day period. This included a few days layover en route to catch up on sleep and make a few repairs. 

The trip was eventful, particularly a few days and nights offshore riding the inner edge of the Gulf Stream northeastward from Fernandina Beach, Florida to Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina. That brief passage was a microcosm of what offshore sailing can often be, a mixed bag:  slipping along before light southerlies, battling some downright scary late-night thunder storms, eating flying fish for breakfast, fixing the things that broke, reading paperbacks, navigating, dodging freighters, getting hardly any sleep, and applauding the antics of spotted dolphins cavorting at Silver Heels' bow wave.

The first and last days of the trip we motored up the Intra Coastal Waterway, an inside route that links canals, rivers and bays along much of the US East Coast. That part of the trip was another variety pack of experiences: biting bugs, graceful waterfowl, muggy heat, silent marshlands, reluctant drawbridges, friendly boaters, tedious hours of motoring, some brisk motorsailing. It's can be grueling for a single-hander, having to pay attention every moment to the channel markers threading a narrow passage through dark, shallow and often shoaling waters. 

Anyway, we're here. I have good friends to hang out with ashore. We'll be playing music and getting a little crazy. I plan to stay a while - some weeks, at least. Also looking forward to some visits from family soon. 

Silver Heels seems content. Our cruising life has begun in earnest. May it be long and joyful!

Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Green Cove Springs, Florida

On a hot, sunny, nearly windless summer day Silver Heels and I cast off from our longtime home at Green Cove Springs Marina and set sail on what I hope will be a long and happy cruise together. I am single-handing the boat, this being a time for us to become better acquainted underway at our own pace. 

Thursday, June 05, 2009
Green Cove Springs, Florida

Silver Heels was launched with fresh bottom paint and a long list of material improvements after more than 2 months in dry-dock. 

Monday, April 27, 2009 
Green Cove Springs, Florida

The good ship Silver Heels and I are presently in dry-dock at Green Cove Springs Marina, a mile or two outside the little northeast Florida town of the same name. We hope to be re-launched in a month or so with new bottom paint and a list of other jobs done, then to set sail on a cruise with no fixed route and no timetable worthy of the term. 

In the Beginning

Gordon Lightfoot named my boat for me. He's the Canadian folk singer most famous for his ballad, "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald," but he also wrote & recorded a lesser-known song titled "Christian Island," a tune that has been with me since my early sailing days. In it he sings:

Tall and strong she dips and reels
I call her Silver Heels
And she tells me how she feels
She’s a good old boat and she’ll stay afloat
Through the toughest gale and keep smilin’
But for one more day she would like to stay
In the lee of Christian Island

Surely "silver heels" refers to the sparkling trail left by a boat moving through bioluminescent water at night, and maybe also to the play of moonlight on a ship's wake. I just always liked the feel of that song. It begins,

I'm sailing down the summer wind
I got whiskers on my chin
And I like the mood I'm in...

Even though I hadn't heard the song for many years, the first time I saw this good old boat I just knew she was my Silver Heels. Later I learned that the native American actor who played The Lone Ranger's Indian sidekick, Tonto, in the old television series was named Jay Silverheels. He was a pretty cool character in the show, and a rugged, self-made man in real life. I named my boat yard workbench "Fort Tonto" in his honor. The fact that tonto means "fool" in Spanish probably makes it all the more appropriate - for me, not for Jay. A little humility never hurts, especially during a major refit of an old sailboat.

Now, there is an old superstition that it's bad luck to change the name of a boat. There is also an even older nautical tradition of doing just that, renaming boats, which dates back to the earliest mariners.  When I found Silver Heels for sale in Indiantown, Florida, she bore the name "Malu Lani," which means something like "beneath the sky," or "under the watchful eye of heaven" in Polynesian. It's a nice sentiment, but Malu Lani was a mouthful to say, always required repeating and explaining, and wasn't even the boat's original name, merely the previous owner's idea of cool. In fact, in my humble opinion this vessel had never had a proper name... until I showed up. Since I was planning (and have since nearly completed) an extreme makeover - since she would soon be metamorphosing into a virtually new entity - it seemed right that her name should evolve along with her. There was a transition period in the beginning, when her old name was still on the transom and her new one was merely on the paperwork and in my heart. During that time I called her "Malu Lani Silver Heels." You know, to sort of get her used to the idea. 

Shortly after I bought the boat, I single-handed her 300-odd miles to a boat yard on the Saint John's River in northeast Florida. This 6-day trip north went smoothly, most of it following the Intracoastal Waterway, the "ICW", that being a protected, inside route. As tempted as I was to take Silver Heels offshore into the Gulf Stream, I am happy to say I did not. She was an old and (up 'til then) sadly neglected boat entirely new to me. It would have been reckless, indeed, to expose her to the rigors of even a brief open water passage. Of course, I'd gone through her thoroughly before setting sail, but I could only prepare so much in that short time. Her ancient standing rigging alone was reason enough to play it safe on this, our maiden voyage. Things will be very different the next time we set sail. 

In any case, that first little passage afforded me an opportunity to get to know my new charge at a relaxed pace and on January 23, 2007, I arrived at Green Cove Springs Marina with a reinforced admiration for this classic ketch, and a substantial work list to bring her up to snuff. We were ready to get going on the renovation of Silver Heels.