She set sail on her final journey on October 31, 2024. Born March 1, 2011, she took to water almost immediately, falling off a dock for the first time at 8 weeks of age. From then on she was always happiest around water. On the boat, a kayak , or a dinghy or just chasing sticks into Priest Lake or Lake Michigan, being wet was her preferred condition.
Rest In Peace, fur-Admiral Maggie
Our arrival at Little River, SC
in March 24 marked the end of our Great Loop. A joyful and sad day.
On the one hand, we were clearly ready to be done. An rightly proud
of all we had accomplished. But on the other hand, the Loop had occupied
our lives to one extent for another for almost four years. And now that
its done, we wondered what the future may bring.
Most immediately, it meant unloading Irish Lass and preparing her for sale. Sheesh.
It is amazing how much
"stuff" one can accumulate on a boat in three years. It
took us four days to pack and remove all of our "stuff". This
despite that fact that we planned to leave a lot of bedding, towels,
galley equipment, etc. aboard for the new owners. But even that all
had to laundered and scrubbed and reorganized.
This process was hindered by a
seven foot tide range at our marina, which meant that there were only a few
high-tide hours each day when the angle of the dock ramps allowed easy transit
with loaded dock carts. So we would accumulate piles of stuff on the dock
and wait for the waters to rise. And then rush to get everything hauled
up to parking lot level before the tide ebbed.
In between trips to the
laundromat, Commadore Kathleen took charge of arranging our
transportation. We know we would need extra space but none of the rental
companies would offer us their largest vehicles for a one-way . So we had reluctantly reserved a mini-van, figuring we would have to ship many boxes home.
But, no!
On the appointed day, Commadore
Kathleen slipped up to the airport counter and asked innocently, "Gee, do
you have anything bigger?" And, lo and behold, a shiny black 2022
GMC Yukon XL appeared. "Ok for one-way?" she asked. "Only a few dollars more", they said. "DONE DEAL!",
she said. You don't get what you don't ask for, right?
 |
| Faithful (if overloaded) Victoria |
We
dubbed her Victoria, in honor of the one ship in Ferdinand Magellan's fleet that
actually made it all the way around the world and back to Spain (minus
Ferdinand himself whom they buried in the Philippines). And we
proceeded to load her to the rooftop with Rubbermaid tubs, duffle bags, and
boxes; reserving just enough space for us and fur-Admiral Maggie. Even
then, two trips to Goodwill were required and three large boxes were shipped
home via UPS. Sheesh. One can acquire a lot o' stuff in three
cruising seasons. Irish Lass floated an inch higher in the water
once unloaded.
We booked a few nights in a nearby motel and spent two days
scrubbing Irish Lass from end to end. We also made arrangements
with a local "boat concierge" to watch over her once we hit the road
and to arrange for an exterior detail, interior carpet cleaning, and some other
minor repairs.
And we entered into a listing agreement with IntracoastalYacht Sales. After much discussion with Doug and review of recent market
activity, we settled on an asking price that seemed like pure fantasy
(35% more than our original purchase price!) to us but that
Doug felt was appropriate. With great faith in his knowledge and
abilities, we signed on the dotted line.
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| Iriah Lass at the brokerage dock in Little River, SC |
On March 30, we bid the Lass an emotional goodbye and
headed west toward Birmingham, AL. It was exciting to be headed
home, but bittersweet to the closing out the Great Loop chapter of our
life. That same day, however, opened a whole new life role for us, namely
GRANDPARENTING! Our daughter-in-law, Alexandria, gave birth to a
healthy 7lb 4oz boy in Somerville, MA! His name is LINCOLN DANGER
GRIFFITH. We couldn't wait to get home so we could turn around and fly to
Boston to meet him
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| DANGER is his middle name, y'know! 👍 |
Day Two took us across Mississippi
into Arkansas. As we rolled into Little Rock the weather was getting
ominous, with wind, rain, and swirling skies.. Local radio began to
broadcast tornado warnings, telling folks in specific parts of the city to be
prepared or even to seek shelter. Of course, to those of us passing thru on
I-40, all this geographic detail was useless, not knowing where any of the
areas of warning were. We could have been driving into the heart of storm
and been none the wiser until we saw Auntie Em and Toto fly by the window. So
we pressed on until the rain fell so hard we could not see, at which point we
parked on the shoulder under an overpass (with a dozen others) and waited it
out. We learned later that the F-3 tornado had passed about a half
mile behind us and did serious damage in the city. But the worst we saw
was strong winds and torrents of rain off the overpass like a waterfall.
Whew! The good Lord does look out for fools.
After an overnight near Fort
Smith (no sign of Judge Parker or Rooster Cogburn but we did see the gallows)),
we crossed the Arkansas River into the "Indian Territory", aka
Oklahoma. Our destination was the home of Spokane
transplants Mark and Adrienne Parcher, in Edmund, just north of Oklahoma
City. We had a delightful visit in their beautiful new home in the red
clay hills, (complete with a steel tornado shelter bolted to the garage
floor.) Adrienne asked us to transport a piece of her stained-glass art
commissioned by fellow Spokane-ite Scott Rodin, so Mark and Wade spent an hour
in the shop carefully packaging it in foam and then finding a low-risk spot for
the package aboard Victoria.
Day Three was a High-speed, two-lane voyage
West across Oklahoma and Texas to Raton, New Mexico, where the 6.700 ft
elevation gave us a cool and short-breath reminder that we had been living at
sea level for nine months. Gasp!
Day Four took us north on I-25
across Raton Pass into Colorado. We took a few minutes near Trinadad, CO to
visit the desolate valley where Wade's grandfather once commanded a camp for
some 3,000 German POW's during World War II. Almost nothing to see
today but a location clearly intended to isolate and intimidate those interned there.
We were bound for the home of
Kathleen's cousin Sarah Hertzenberg just north of Denver. We passed a
pleasant evening with the gathered Colorado arm of the McLaughlin clan,
planning to head north into Wyoming and Montana the next morning.
But God said, "Ha!"
We awoke to a few inches of snow and the news that I-25
north and I-80 west of Cheyenne, WY were closed by 2+ feet of snow and high
winds. Quite a shock after wintering in Florida, for sure. Not
wanting to wait for the weather to break, we called an audible and quickly made
plans to head west on I-70 thru the Rockies via Eisenhour Tunnel.
With the storm still blowing, the first 80 miles took almost 3 hours, but
once we cleared the tunnel, the roads and skies cleared, and we were able to
resume our customary cruising speed. Still, it made for a long day by the
time we rolled into Spanish Fork, UT (Sorry, Eric 🤷) at
about 7:00 PM.
The early morning of Day Five
found us back in the snow (and traffic) along the Wasatch Front northbound on
I-15. But once we cleared Salt Lake City, conditions improved, and
we were able to set an 80 mph pace for Butte. The low temp there that night
was 11 F. BRRRRR!!! Welcome back to the Northwest, indeed!
Day Six (April 5th) was an
easy, familiar run west on I-90 thru the Idaho Panhandle to dear old
Spokane!
HOME AT LAST!
Since arriving back in Spokane, we have been busy learning
to live on land again and taking our life here out of suspended animation. After unloading an returning Victoria, we attacked the heap of bins, boxes, and duffle bags in the garage,
sorting and storing and, in some cases, scratching
our heads and saying “Why exactly did we bring THIS home?’ At the same time, we worked to prepare the
house for re-occupancy , undoing all things we shut off/turned down/covered up
for our nine-month absence. And by the
end of the first week, we were down to a couple of small boxes to unpack and
felt pretty much “at home”. (fur-Admiral
Maggie’s period of adjustment was MUCH shorter.)
Then one of the first week's back, friends Sharon and Darrell
invited us for a casual dinner at the home along the Little Spokane River. Upon
arrival, we discovered not a casual dinner, but 20 or more of our other friends
gathered for a surprise Welcome Home party.
Wow!
Our next priority was a quick trip to Boston for a face-to-face
encounter with Lincoln Danger Griffith, the world’s most perfect grandchild. (And
his parents, of course. 😊)
.jpeg)
And THEN.......
Forty days after leaving Irish Lass with Doug in
Little River, SC, he called us with AN OFFER!!!
Just under 90% of our (we thought) ridiculous asking price, and with
minimal contingencies. After commission
and closing costs, and a few minor
repairs, still 20% more than our original purchase price. Certainly not full recovery, but a meaningful contribution
toward the money ewe invested in the Lass during our ownership. And all in 40 days in what appeared to be a 120-day
market for boats in her size and price ranges. After a brief temptation to hold out for more,
reason prevailed, and we took the deal A huge relief, given that. 1) our original vision of the Great Loop was
to sell the boat for 75% of what we paid for it and , 2) we were preparing
ourselves to wait until Fall for a sale.
The Lass passed her survey with flying colors and by the end of
June, she belonged to a nice couple from North Carolina who planned to live
aboard for the summer following the sale of their home. Bon Voyage , Irish Lass.
The bittersweet feelings about selling the boat have been softened
now by the passage of time. (And by the
realization how much more disposable income one has when one no longer owns a
boat.) We are not sure if there will be
another boat or what it might be. In the
meantime, we have been filling our time with new flooring in the house,
revived golf games, and upcoming travel plans including British Columbia by (rented)
motorhome, Boston for Lincoln’s baptism, a 9-day tour of the Holy Land and a
VRBO week in Maine next summer. And
then there is that trip to Africa that Wade promised Kathleen as part of the bargain to do the Loop……….
Regardless, we are busy and healthy, and our eyes are on the
future. We thank each and everyone of
you who traveled along on our Great Loop journey, and we hope to see you all on
some future adventure. Be safe and keep in touch
In planning our voyage north from the Keys, we reached two
major conclusions:
1) Our days of high-speed open-water runs were over.
(I mean, only a fool gets burned by the same fire twice....well, OK....three
times , right?) We resolved to proceed up the east coast via the
sheltered Intracoastal Waterway (aka The Ditch) and limit our engine speed to
about 1600 rpm (12-ish knots). The frequency of no-wake and/or shallow
waters along this route actually force much lower speeds anyway. No
more running "outside" for us.
2) We would "declare victory" and end our Great
Loop in Little River, SC, rather than returning all the way to Virginia Beach
VA. While not "crossing our wake" in the purest sense,
this is the location of our friend Doug Ford, the boat broker who assisted us in our
boat search and ultimately in the purchase of Irish Lass. We also want
Doug to handle her sale. And he has moorage available for us in the
marina where his office is located. And it’s a 250 mile, 6-day, 250-gallon
round trip from Little River to Virginia Beach (where exactly nobody is waiting
to throw us a party) and back. And we're weary from our
"adventures" and their related expense. And Admiral Maggie
really wants to poop in her own yard. And because we said so. So,
there!
Passing under the Bay Bridge, we entered the congested
waters of the Port of Miami. Lots of boats, tugs, barges, and,
because several cruise ships were in port, law enforcement. (No
sign of Crockett and/or Tubbs, however .) And Bridges. Lots and lots of
bridges, In fact, by the time we reached our destination in Ft
Lauderdale via the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway, 13
bridges. Seven of which had to open in order for Irish Lass to
pass. Sheesh. We were fortunate to only have one wait of
longer than 5 minutes, thanks to the helpful cooperation of a couple of bridge
tenders.
Still, it was almost 5:00 PM by the time we settled into
our slip at Bahia Mar Yachting Center. It is truly a YACHTING
marina, with some of our neighbors were large enough to carry Irish
Lass as a tender. Double Sheesh.
The ICW in this area is lined with high rise condos (hence
"the Ditch") and the beautiful (and overwrought) homes favored
by Tony "Say haalo to my leetle fren!!" Montana in
"Scarface". One does wonder how much cocaine one must sell, or how many migrants smuggle annually to afford to live here. OMG.
 |
| Living la vida Miami! |
Our first stop north of Ft Lauderdale took us to Boynton
Beach, where both the marina and shoreline architecture was much toned
down. Better yet, it led us to an invitation for a shoreside dinner at
the home of Commadore Kathleen's cousin Don McLaughlin and his wife Jeri.
And BEST of all, fur-Admiral Maggie got to go along and be off-leash in the large,
fenced backyard for the first time in months! And she LOVED it, (once she
decided Don's floating pool chemical dispenser was not chasing her.) A
delightful evening for all.
Our next day was a long-ish past Palm Beach, Jupiter Sound,
Hobe Sound, and the St Lucie River to Manatee Pocket and the Sailfish
Marina. A run of fewer than 45 miles but slow due to the prevalence of
no-wake zones. Our goal for this stop was to connect with Wade's former
banking colleague, Charles Thayer. A lifelong Florida boater,
Charles and his wife Molly make their home in nearby Palm City and have been
asking us to stop by almost since e we started our Loop. They
graciously hosted us for dinner at their creek-side home. Another
"win" for fur-Admiral Maggie, who got to meet her follow voyager
fur-Admiral Scupper. We enjoyed a wonderful meal and a tour of
Molly's mixed-media art studio. Fur-Admiral Maggie got yet another
evening of off-leash yard time. And who knew that Molly spent her
pre-Charles years as an international sailboat delivery captain, moving boats
all over the planet for their owners. And does she have some sea stories
to tell (that make things like blown exhaust elbows and transmissions seem like
child’s play). Sheesh!
 |
| Charles Thayer and the fur-Admirals |
The City of Ft Pierce's commitment to their waterfront
economy is evident by the nice quality of their marina and the constantly
changing array of shoreside activities. Music, dining, shopping, craft
fairs, and farmers markets are all within walking distance. and if you
want to venture further, free eclectic, on-demand shuttles throughout the city
limits. Many Loopers, like friends Jeff and Laurie on Water
Witch make extended stays here. We also reconnected with Gold
Loopers Bill and Patti on Let Time Go Lightly (2022 Gold
Loopers who had ventured over from the Sarasota area), Tom and Jane
on Picnic Boat, John on Moon Shadow II. And
a joined with other Loopers for cocktails and dinner.
For an excursion, we Uber'd across the river to visit
the The National Navy UDT-SEAL Museum. This is a do-not-miss
destination if you ever find yourself in this stretch if Florida, offering
wonderful displays and knowledgeable(i.e., ex-SEAL) docents to help trace this
vital fighting force from its early days in WWII thru its ever-evolving
mission to today's battles against terrorist threats worldwide.
Included is the orange lifeboat from the Maersk Alabama, authentic
and complete with the shattered 8 x 10 plexiglass window through which SEAL
snipers placed the shots to trigger the take down of the Somali pirates holding
Captain Phillips. From the deck of a rolling ship into the right window
on a bobbing lifeboat across open water. Some shootin'!
 |
| SEAL monumant donated by Ross Perot |
 |
| Captain Phillips' life boat |
Following our Ft Pierce respite, we proceeded north toward
Florida's Space Coast, first to Eau Gallie Marina near Melbourne and then on to
Titusville Marina. . Reconnecting with Picnic Boat, we
joined Tom and Jane on a tour of the Kennedy Space Center at Cape
Canaveral. We first visited here some 25 years ago during the heyday of
the Space shuttle. Today its displays and information are full of the Artemis
moon mission and plans for landing on Mars. Also new is the
substantial presence of private space companies like SpaceX and Blue
Origin. Pretty Amazing stuff!
This party of the Florida coast also offered a marked
change in the prevailing architecture of waterfront homes. Lots are
bigger, seawalls and docks are stouter, and yards are dominated by "bug
buildings". These frameworks wrapped in netting are installed to
make life tolerable during the "season". They range in size
from small patio enclosures to structures large enough to cover an entire pool,
patio, and yard. And even tall enough to enclose second story windows and
allow one to practice one’s full-swing chip shot without insect
interference. At first glance, these seem ridiculous and expensive
accommodation to make it possible to live in an inhospitable place. But
on second thought, probably no more so than our firewood piles, pellet stoves,
snowblowers, and down parkas. To each his own, I
guess........
 |
| BIG "bug house" |
Our next big stop was St Augustine, the oldest city in the
US. From our base at the Rivers Edge Marina, we undertook (again
with Tom and Jane on Picnic Boat) a guided tour of old St
Augustine. Via Segway! And despite our individual balance
challenges, our guide had us all gliding along with gyroscopically enhanced
ease after about 15 minutes of practice and took on a fascinating 3-hour tour through
the historical sights and sites of the city. Great fun. (And maybe
we can now supplement our retirement income by working in shopping mall
security! )
 |
| Future mall cops? |
North of Jacksonville, two big things happened.
First after an overnight stay at Fernandina Beach on Amelia Island,
we exited Florida (Yay!). Second, we entered the true
"low country" coastal marshes made famous by Pat Conroy. (Double
Yay!) The Georgia marshes have an alure SO much different that the
bayous of the Tenn-Tom and the Mobile River or the mangrove swamps of
Florida. Acres and acres of grasslands interrupted by occasional
hummocks with a few trees and the odd home, all intercut with stems and rivers
and canals. And where substantial landmass is available, lined with
MASSIVE live oak trees arching overhead. Wow! We could live
here, (at least until the bugs come out or the next hurricane comes ashore.)
 |
| Live Oak in the Low Country |
 |
| Low country sentinel |
Entering the low country in George, the ICW begins a series
of twists turns, sometimes taking us 25 miles inland and then turning to take
us so close to the Atlantic we could see
the surf line. As a result, depths changed radially and frequently
between 4 and 40 feet. And the tides were widely inconsistent as
water sought the easiest path to respond to lunar forces. A 4-knot tide
on the bow could become an equal force on the stern simply by passing the mouth
of the next creek. Our speed over the ground swings between 6 and
12 knots all day long, at the same throttle setting. Note to
self: ICW passages entitled "Hell Gate" must be
respected. Sheesh.
Our route took us past such notable locations as Hilton
Head Island, St Simons Island, Port Royal Sound, and Kilkenny. Included
was s a very odd situation where we were buzzed at low altitude by an
(apparently) civilian, twin-engine Cessna while innocently cruising down the
Sapelo River. We’re taking a high-speed pass no more that 50 feet
above our hardtop. Unfortunately, the pilot did not respond to our radio
call and sped away before we could read his tail number and report him.
Weird. Sheesh
Our next multi-day stop was at Isle of Hope. GA. The
colony of period homes and massive oak trees sits on the edge of Savanah.
(Having done Savanah on a prior trip, we elected to forego the run upriver to
the city center.) Isle of Hope marina afforded us with great dockage,
an opportunity to refuel at non-Florida prices, and access to a courtesy car
for reprovisioning. It is heartening to see a young couple working
so hard to make a small business grow and succeed. Close by we
discovered the Wormsloe Plantation. the site of one of the
earliest European settlements in the region, now maintained as a park and
education center.
 |
| Isle of Hope |
 |
| Wormsloe Plantation entry |
While at Isle of Hope, Wade diagnosed a voltage anomaly on
the starboard engine as broken wire on the back of the alternator.
Breaking out the tool bag once again, he removed the offending unit and
discovered that a short had actually burned the positive terminal off the back
of it. He speculates that somewhere in the course of the transmission
project, one of the techs snagged the wire while crawling along the outboard
side of the engine. Go figure. Fortunately, we had a
new alternator on board out of an abundance of caution . And, after
Commadore Kathleen found a friendly shop (Lair's Auto Electric) that could help
swap the pulley from old to new (and for Free!) , Wade installed and connected
the new unit and, to no one's greater surprise than his, it worked, charging to
13.8v. Yay! (And thank you God and Kathleen and Mr. Lair.)
Departing Isle of Hope with full voltage and full fuel
tanks, we made as easy 46-mile cruise of the picturesque waterfront town of Beaufort,
SC. It is our habit as we pass towns on the ICW to train our
binoculars on their water towers to confirm our location ( GPS is never wrong,
right?) Imagine our surprise when we spotted one particularly
prominent tower imprinted with "WE MAKE MARINES". Seemed
an odd name for a community, until we realized we were passing the Parris
Island Marine Corps Recruit Depot. We resisted the
urge to do pushups and instead offered a salute to the men and women of the
USMC who "stand on the wall" for our country.
Beaufort (BEW-fort), not to be confused with Beaufort
(BOW-fert) NC) is another ICW town we wish we could have spent more time
exploring. The time we spent walking the vibrant downtown and
waterfront gave hints of layer upon layer of history and architecture to be
explored. But our schedule only allowed us one night. Because our
next stop was the charming city of Charleston, SC and a rendezvous with 2022 Gold
Looper Jeff on Loafer
Long-time readers may recall that Jeff was a fellow
prisoner with us at South Haven, MI in October of 2021, when a group of us
spent an unscheduled week confined to port by extreme weather on Lake
Michigan. He took this picture of conditions there that reminds us today
how crazy Lake Michigan can get:
He had invited us to visit him at his Charleston homeport at the Ashley River Marina. A retired chef, Jeff lives aboard Loafer full time and fills his time as an Uber driver specializing in tours of historic Charleston. He took us on a driving and walking trip through "old" Charleston . (South of Broad for you Pat Conroy fans) His knowledge of the city's history and unique architecture and efforts to preserve both was fascinating. And as a chef, he knows all the great restaurants, too. Thanks, Jeff.
But Irish Lass was like an old fire horse
smelling the barn and was anxious to be on her way, so we pulled out of Ashley
Marina after two nights for a 58-mile jaunt to Georgetown, SC and the Harbor
Walk marina. Georgetown is another nice ICW town that has invested
heavily in its downtown waterfront. While a stroll around town was
pleasant , it was marred by the sad sight of derelict sail and powerboats crowded
at anchor in its small harbor. Shredded sales, half-submerged
transoms, and debris laden decks do much to detract from the nice "harbor
walk" promenade and tree-sheltered streets.
It was a pleasant 52-mile run the next day past Myrtle
Beach to Coquina Harbor at Little River, SC and the slip reserved for us by
Doug at Intracoastal Yacht Sales.
A word to the wise: Never get bad news about your boat on a Friday.
This allows 48 hours for predictions of doom and gloom to bombard you over and over while you sit helplessly waiting for any potential source of assistance, guidance, hope, or even just plain FACTS to reopen for business on Monday.
Sheesh!
If we had quarter for every time we were told between Friday night and Monday morning that it was going to take MONTHS to just locate (forget install) a replacement transmission for Irish Lass, it would have paid for the required parts.
Sheesh!
Following a weekend of WAY too much doom and WAY to much helpful "advice", Monday morning we buckled down and attacked our problems head on. Commadore Kathleen opened discussions with Faro Blanco about our situation, seeking some additional days of dockage. The marina manager, while sympathetic, continued to plead over-crowding. (One couple we met there, John and Bonnie on Stow Away IV, even offered to vacate their slip and go anchor down the keys for a week to help make space for us.)
Wade verified our spec's and crankled up the laptop and phone to look for a transmission, leveraging every contact, forum, hint, and rumour he could find. Following lead after lead met with disappointment, as the right combination of model, gear ratio, and shift mechanism proved elusive.
BUT!
All dire predictions aside, by noon we had both an additional week of time at Faro Blanco (courtesy of Commadoe Kathleen's pursuasive charm and a no-show reservation) AND a brand new transmission to our specification in Somerset, NJ. (courtesy of Adam at Mack Booring and Parts, Inc). We bought the latter almost without asking the price (it was expensive) and had it shipped to Marathon Boat Yard, conveniently located right across the road from Faro Blanco. Naysayers, negaters, and doom merchants BE GONE!
On Feb 4th, we cautiously moved Irish Lass around (on the port engine only) to the Atlantic side of Marathon to a side-tie slot in the basin at Marathon Boat Yard, assisted by Looper captains Dallas from After Hours and Joe from La Vida. John and Bonnie from Stow Away IV escorted us in their center console RIB in case we needed any tug services. (Loopers helping Loopers. Boaters helping Boaters. Amen!) With Irish Lass secured and the Key West mechanics engaged, we grabbed a rental car and retreated to the shore-side accomodation to once again become C.L.O.D.'s (Cruisers Living On Dirt.)
Quickly we found, however, that there were consequences to hiring our mechanics from Key West, Volvo affiliation notwithstanding. First, it became immediately apparent that this was their first assignment to remove a transmission from a Cruiser 455. Clearly, they were devising their methods as they went along and had underestimated the task. In their defense, we found very few others who had ever attempted it or even thought it possible without first removing the 1,900 lb engine, including the folks at Cruisers Yachts themselves. Wade was able to locate a Volvo shop in North Carolina who offered some tips, which he passed on to our mechanics.
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| The long arm of the Boat Yard |
 |
| Open Wide! |
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| On deck and ready to hoist! |
 |
| Thar She Blows! |
Second, all of their tech's were dispatched from their Key West shop. In their post-pandemic, Semi-tropical work ethic world, this means they would arrive at Irish Lass at 10-10:30 and depart for home at 4-4:30. So instead of 8 hour days and maybe a little (OMG!) overtime, our work progressed in 5-6 hour efforts.
Third, as time passed, we became a lessor priority to their "regular" customers. So not only were the work days shorter, they became less frequent as techs were diverted to other assignments. Again in their defense, this was not the first time we had experienced this in seeking repairs to Irish Lass while Looping. As a transient boater, we sometimes found ourselves relegated to transaction status with providers in favor of repeat relationship customers. The experiences ranged fromm benign neglect to outright shoddy or incorrect work. And three weeks and 300 miles further along the Loop, your recourse evaporates unless you are willing the further interrupt your journey in seeking redress. (Heavy Sigh)
We made sure we were at the boat every day to monitor progress, but tried not to interfere with the actual work. The level of disassembly on the starboard engine was substantial. Removal of the heat exchanger, intercooler, turbocharger, intake manifold, and exhaust system were required in order to extract the transmission from its hidey hole aft of the engine. This is turn required replacing all the seals, gaskets, groments, and O-rings required to reinstall these components (Which further reinforced our choice of an authorized Volvo shop to do the work.)
Suffice to say the work progressed MUCH more slowly than we hoped. And we developed a love-hate relationship with our mechanics. But both they and we perserviered. We filled our time by acting as unofficial harbor hosts for Loopers arriving in Marathon, offering rides to grocery stores, trips to nearby attractions and , in one case, a ride to Miami so a fellow Looper could purchase a new car. Our exploration of local sites and shopping also continued. We eventually moved from the Hampton Inn to an AirBNB home in Key Colony Beach, a bedroom suburb of Marathon, where we enjoyed broadband streaming a full size kitchen, and pleasant neighborhood walks with fur-Admiral Maggie.
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| Future shoe shopping? |
 |
| Manatee visitor at Key Colony Beach |
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| Odd looking squrriels in the Keys..... |
After three weeks of work (and delays) it FINA::Y came time to wrap up the project. Everything was pretty much re-installed . And with the assistance of the guys at the local NAPA store, we finally had the fittings to connect the set of locally-made oil hoses to our new transmission and oil cooler. The initial startup dockside went well and the new transmission shifted normally, both forward and reverse. But a short seatrial revealed that the oil pressure in the new transmission was now WAY TOO HIGH, imperiling its internal seals.
WHAT!?
HUH!?
It turns out the the locally-sourced replacement hoses that we work so hard to adapt were the wrong diameter (too small), causing oil to back up between the oil pump and cooler, spiking the pressure gauge and likely starving the downstream components for lubrication. After reinstalling the original larger diameter hoses, pressures returned to normal. So, after all this drama and all this time and all this work, we ended up going forward with the original hoses. Which showed no sign of leaking. Go figure............
Anyway..........
After two days of cleaning up after the mechanics and reprovisioning, WE FINALLY GOT BACK ON THE WATER ON FEBURARY 26TH, departing Marathon and navigating the Hawk Channel east by north to Key Largo.
YAY!
The weather was perfect, the seas were calm and the water was deep (in FL this means < 10 ft). After negotiating the Largo canal and the infamous "Crash Corner", we settled into a slip at Marina del Mar. Nothing leaked. Nothing broke. The boat ran perfectly. And we were SO releaved.
Our plan for the next day was to make our way through Biscayne Bay, enter the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway at Miami, and make our way to Ft Lauderdale. We anticipated a long day of over 70 miles involving several bridges and no-wake zones, so we got an early start. The weather was gorgeous and we were excited to see the beautiful homes and skyline of Florida's most populous region.
And then.....
Just off the north end of Key Biscayne.....
On a warm sun-shiny day....
Who would have guessed....?
First, a brief geographic orientation. The Florida Keys are a line of 882 coral and limestone islands extending off the southern tip of the Florida mainland. Of these, only 30 are inhabited but 42 are connected by the bridges of the famed Overseas Highway. While it is common to speak of them as running south of Florida, they in fact extend more east to west ( Key West, Duh!) . (The western-most point in the Dry Tortugas islands are actually due south of Crystal River on the FL Gulf coast where we spent Christmas.) Still, the sothernmost point point key (in Key West) lies only 93 miles from Cuba
The city of Marathon (pop 9,750) occupies a group of keys about halfway between Miami and Key West It is popular winter haven for boaters, with many options for dockage, anchorage, repairs and provisions. Plus a wide variety of dining and activity choices. All without the crowding and high costs of Key West. (And if you must go, Key West is only a 90 minute, $4 bus ride away!)
Home for our stay was Faro Blanco Resort on the Gulf side of the Keys. It fit our needs to a "T", with a great staff, excellent docks, and access to pools, restaurants, laundry, West Marine and all the other little things that warm a Loopers heart. Moreover, it includes the most dedicated Docktail-ers we have ever encountered. They gather like clockwork at 5:00 every day for cocktails and conversation (and heavy hors deourves on Thursdays!) , welcoming Loopers and non-Loopers, full-timers and transients, power and sail boaters, charter captains and their customers And at least once a month, there is a special event like Mardi Gras night or Spam-a-Plooza or Staff Appreciation Night. These folks know how to Par-TAY!
But enough chamber of commerce fluff, OK?
Our plan all along was to spend the month of January in Marathon. And despite that fact that our other "adventures" delayed our arrival until Jan. 8th, we intended to fulfill that, with a full schedule of visitors from home lined up. (Funny, no one wanted to come see us in New Jersey or Mississippi. But land in Florida in January and the pattern fills up in a serious hurry. Hmmm......) Plus we had to deal with whatever is going on with that darn starboard transmission. (Heavy Sigh)
The day following our arrival, there was a knock on the hull dockside that proved to be a technician from the area authorized Volvo Penta service center. Sent our way by the Faro Blanco staff, he reviewed our situation and agreed to order replacement oil hoses for the starboard transmission and to schedule some other needed engine maintenance. The downside is that his company is based on Key West so travel time would affect scheduling. (More on that later.) But we were excited to finally be the Keys and we needed to prepare for our company (and to cling to the belief that our problem was just an leaking oil line.) So we agreed to engage them for the repairs.
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| Admiral Maggie inspects her crew! |
Meanwhile, the first of our guests arrived! Sharon and Darrell arrived on the 10th, settling into the forward stateroom and setting fur-Admiral Maggie all agog with new people to charm and new hands to pet her. The four of us began an exploration of area attractions, including the Dolphin Reseach Center (which houses, among other things, the grandchildren of "Flipper"), the old Seven Mile Bridge walking path, tropical shopping, and sunset dining. Seasoned travellers, Sharon and Darrell adapted quickly to marina life.
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| The Aptly Named Sunset Grill |
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| One of Flipper's progeny |
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| Strange looking vermin in the Keys |
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| A couple of show offs! |
About this time, the new transmission oil lines arrived from Volvo. (Hooray!) They did not fit. (Boo!) The dealer reordered a different set. (Heavy Sigh)
Our second visitors were Todd and Liz, with whom we continued our exploration of the Keys. We journeyed 14 miles down the Overseas Highway to Big Pine Key in order to see key deer, a diminutive species of white tail exclusive to the Keys. Having adapted their size to the limited land, food, and water available in the Keys, these mini-deer max out at about 40-50 lbs and 30 inches in height. We also added the Marathon Turtle Hospital to our destinations. This facility provides rescue and rehabilitation care for injured and stranded sea turtles rescued from the Keys and Gulf of Mexico. We also attended a Looper picnic at Bahia Honda State Park, hosted by Looper friends Chris and Cheryl on Natutic Venture. And in the process, discovered the Lower Keys Shuttle. $4 each way ($2 for Seniors) will take you from Marathon to Key West, with buses every 60 minutes or so and many stops along the way. Another grand bargin of the Great Loop and another good reason not to take your boat to Key West.
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| Bahia Honda State Park |
The second set of transmission oil cooler hoses arrived from Volvo. (Hooray) They did not fit either. (Boo!) The dealer decided to have some hoses made up by a local hydraulic shop. (Heavy Sigh)
The law enforcement presence in the Keys in January/Feburary was remarkable. It seems there were renewed wave of Cuban and Haitian refugees arriving all along the Keys, in massively over- crowded, derilict vessels. Local law enforcement seemed to be on perpetual alert. There were US Coast Guard, Homeland Security, and Border Patrol boats, aircraft, and officers everywhere. The State of Florida added in a couple of dozen extra FHP officers and three National Guard Blackhawk helicopters. (Gee, could it be that Gov DeSantis is running for something?) At least once a day, they intercepted a leaky 30' boat carrying 70 or so people somewhere in the Keys. Dry Tortugas National Park received so many refugees the park had to be closed until they could be evacuated and processed. Huddled masses, and all that. Sheesh.
Our third set of visitors from Spokane arrived during the week of Jan 23. In between cocktails, pool time and shopping, Jan , KC, Teresa, and Greg joined us for a day in Key West, where we lunched at Sloppy Joe's, toured the Hemmingway House and visited celebrity(?) hangout, Captain Tony's Saloon. In other outings we we went shelling on Sombreo Beach and and yet another sunset dinner
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| Just another killer sunset ! |
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| Can you see Mike Leach's bar stool? |
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| Mermaids |
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| NOT your school cafeteria Sloppy Joe |
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| Rum all around! |
As our guests were leaving, the next set of oil cooler hoses arrived. (Heavy Sigh)
And
Did
Not
Fit.
(Grr...)
Our reserved time at Faro Blanco was running out and the marina was reportedly booked solid. So, we had to make Irish Lass mobile again, so we instructed them to re-install the original hoses and top the transmissions up with oil so we could test. As expected the port trans worked flawlessly. On the starboard side, everything worked fine in reverse, but there was no forward propulsion. Interetsingly, none of the re-installed hoses leaked. But we learned from the mechanic who had removed them way back when we arrived the the connection to the starboard oil cooler were no more than finger tight when he disconedted them, Apparently, at 300 psi, this provided a pathway for oil to leak in quantities sufficient to deprive the transmission of both hydraulic pressure and lubrication, leading to the destruction of the forward clutch pack. So, we didn't really need new hoses after all. But now we do need.........
A
NEW
TRANSMISSION!
OH
SHIT!
Let's see.......... 3,000 miles from home, 20 year old Swedish engine with an Italian transmission. Buried in the dark, back corner of an engine room designed by a Wisconsin sadist. Tropical mechanics. No marina moorage. Should be a piece of cake, right?
Well, we just shall see about that, now won't we ...........
Next time!
We needed a new
