Miss Kim during a rough patch. She HATES high seas. She hates me when I put her in harms way. Actually we were in no immediate danger, but it was quite uncomfortable.

We’d had three glorious weeks of near perfect weather. We’d seen the sights, met up with old friends, and run out of reasons not to continue south to the Keys. We left Fort Myers Beach and had a lovely trip to Marco Island. The next morning we left Marco at first light. The winds were near ten knots out of the northeast. As you leave Marco, you travel southwest for a while, in order to round the Cape Romano Shoals. We had a true following sea, not too strong. It was pleasant.

It didn’t stay that way.

The winds gradually increased to twenty knots. We were still okay, until we turned to the southeast bound for Little Shark River. Now the seas were beam-to. We had thirty miles to go and Leap of Faith was rolling side to side. Our vessel does not like running in the trough. She’s a bit top heavy. She’s slow. She agrees with Kim when it comes to high seas.

I kept us upright and reasonably situated for twenty of those miles. Then the thunderstorms started to pop up. We just caught sight of land when the first blows came. The twenty knot winds that I’d sorta found a rhythm with, became thirty knots with higher gusts. The rain came down. I put down all the Eisenglass, but then I couldn’t see the crab pots. I put my windshield section back up and covert the instruments to protect them from the rain. I figured out that the storms were moving from my left to right, so I diverted to the left. We cleared the first storm, only to see another dead ahead. There is only so much running you can do at six knots, but I veered left again. We managed to avoid the center, but not the wind. Nothing left to do but ride it out.

Hence Kim on the deck of the flybridge, wearing a life-vest, reading the good book, personal locator beacon on her wrist. Not a happy camper.

Eventually, we made the entrance to Little Shark River and we were safe. It was actually pretty nice in there this time, until dark. The skeeters come out at dark. I heard two of them talking. Should we eat him here, or carry him home to eat him? We went in to mosquito control mode and survived the night.

The next day we left at first light again and had a wonderful trip to Boot Key Harbor. (except for the 147 trillion lobster traps)

She was much happier when we reached the Seven Mile Bridge.