This is the second in the Doings of
Dudley Doolittle series. It is set in the early 1970s, a
time of political unrest.
The
country was deeply divided over Vietnam, inflation was running away,
and the free-love movement was smoking it up while experimenting with
mind altering substances.
Jane
and I had just completed our five year plan of building our 46-foot
dream boat, liquidated our home, business, and everything that would
not go aboard our dream boat Dursmirg.
We
sailed away to warmer latitudes.
Our
first winter in Florida with our sailboat, and no cars, only
bicycles, we had dodged the bullet that wounded the nation. We were
just beginning to live with nature, and it was great!
We
found a place to dock our boat in St. Augustine, Florida. It was no
frills, but it was our only option.
We
bicycled everywhere: shopping, to the beach, and exploring the
multitude of interesting attractions in America’s Oldest City.
1972
Florida
The
Vietnam War was raging and a lot of the people we met on other boats
had had enough of some of the government policies that were dividing
the country and making many enemies of the United States worldwide.
The Arab oil embargo was beginning to have its affects on the
economy. At this time in Florida construction ground to a halt, and
condominiums that were half completed were being sold off board by
board, and even the fixtures that had been installed were sold to
forestall foreclosure.
We
met some newcomers to St. Augustine when two small sailboats came to
have their boat bottoms painted at Uncle Harry’s boatyard where we
were docked. Harry made them a special deal if both boats would
agree to be pulled at the same time on his marine railway. Steve and
Lum had a 25-foot wooden sailboat and Dudley had a 23-foot homemade
molded fiberglassed plywood sailboat.
Sure
enough, crafty Uncle Harry got both boats up at the same time.
Harry
may have given a special price quote, but he was an expert at padding
the bill. I actually saw grown men cry when Uncle Harry totaled up
the yard bill on some shrimp boats he had worked on.
We
got to know the interesting newcomers with their fascinating and
unique stories.
Soon
we found ourselves departing St. Augustine with Dudley Doolittle, a
long, lanky and lean jug band musician with a cannabis grin. We were
headed for Fort Lauderdale aboard his 23-foot sailboat. Dudley was
relocating for carpentry work.
This
was new water to Jane and me. lWe hadn’t been any further south on
the Intracoastal Waterway than St. Augustine. All our trips south
along the Florida coast had been offshore.
Dudley,
Jane, and I took an early departure from Uncle Harry’s boatyard. We
were making fantastic time the little sailboat. We had a strong tail
wind that put this little boat up to its hull speed. I had no idea
that Dudley couldn’t read a navigational chart when I turned the
helm over to him and went below for my morning coffee. Soon we
abruptly came to a halt on a sand bar. I came out on deck to find
that we were at least one hundred feet from the navigable channel and
solidly aground.
We
tried all the usual tricks of carrying out an anchor, heeling the
vessel over and attempting to sail off. We weren’t going anywhere
soon, and we would have to just wait for “Mother Nature” to bring
the high tide waters back to us. Then we could float away.
The
strangest part of this whole ordeal was that while we sat aground we
were still in full view of the downtown of the Old City even though
we had an early morning departure from St. Augustine. Aground our
first morning out of St. Augustine, the boat was painfully heeled
over at low tide.
By
afternoon we were sailing again. The wind hadn’t let up. We were
making record speeds, and it appeared that we would be able to get
close to Daytona Beach by dark. This was an exhilarating sail with
only the jib flying. We had attained hull speed and were leaving a
sizable wake behind us.
We
had just passed Matanzas Inlet. I was at the helm when an extra burst
of wind took the mast away faster than I could blink my eyes. The
sail and half of the mast were gone! We quickly slowed and were
bobbing along with the flood tide. Dudley felt totally defeated at
this point and wanted to just give up and return to St. Augustine. I
told Dudley that we were less than a mile from Marineland where there
was a marina, and he had all of his carpenter tools aboard so we
could repair the mast there and continue on. I must have been pretty
persuasive because we got Dudley into action. We folded the broken
mast and rigging, retrieved the sail, and stowed the lines. We used
Dudley’s outboard motor to get to Marineland. We rented a slip and
set out to look for the materials needed to do the repair job. While
we walked the grounds of Marineland, we soon spotted just the right
sized piece of wood to plug the two pieces of the aluminum mast
together.
Dudley
got busy planing the wood plug to “force fit” into the mast while
I took over the job of milling the two metal mast pieces so that they
would fit together almost like they had come from the machine shop.
Besides the mast repair, we had to shorten all of the standing
rigging that included the six shrouds plus the fore stay and back
stay. The chain plate where the back stay had been fastened was badly
rusted. We drilled a new hole in the chain plate where the metal had
a little more meat. When Dudley had the plug neatly fashioned and
ready to install in the two mast parts, we took the mast up to a
sturdy cement wall. The three of us took the mast like a battering
ram and drove the force fit plug into place. It was an impressive
repair, and when it was together we again saw Dudley’s face beam
with pleasure. By the next evening our diligent efforts had paid off
and the mast was ready to step (install).
Just
like we had an appointment that had been previously arranged, here
came Steve and Lum from the boatyard in St. Augustine. They were both
good sized people, and that was what we needed to stand that mast
up. Steve and Lum were truly surprised that we had only gotten
twenty miles in our first day, so we had to relate our incredible
story to them. At the present speed we might be to Fort Lauderdale by
Christmas.
Most
of the rest of the trip we had to use the engine because of the lack
of wind, but we had a very good time. One night we stopped on the
Indian River and had a wonderful experience at a fishing camp dock.
The bartender was a jovial character. When he found out that I was of
Norwegian descent, he made sure that we had the time of our lives.
We had cherry-stone clams raw on the half shell with hot sauce. This
was our first time to ever imbibe this delicacy. Jane was skeptical
at first but after one plate full, we were addicted to them.
The
bartender was also the chef, and the next morning he insisted that we
come in for his special $1.00 breakfast with no questions asked. He
served us a more than ample breakfast. We were so stuffed we could
hardly get back aboard the little boat. The fun and laughter of that
evening lingers on in our memory.
These
special unplanned happenings is what makes adventure traveling to
special to us.
What
a way to arrive in Fort Lauderdale! We seemed to be going right
through the front yards of the classiest homes in town. The town was
just dripping in opulence. lThe homes with huge yachts tied in their
front yards and Cadillac’s and Rolls Royce’s out back made a real
contrast to poor little St. Augustine. We tied up at a very nice
marina in Fort Lauderdale, Pier 66, on the 17th Street causeway,
where Dudley had a carpenter job waiting for him. This was as
downtown as you could get. The reason the marina was named Pier 66
was because of the Phillips 66 fuel facilities.
The
amount of boat traffic past the marina was unbelievable. The one
bridge between the ocean inlet and us had a novel feature. The bridge
opened for large vessels and sailboats but on a restricted basis.
Next to the bridge tenders house was located a large clock that
resembled the type used at sports fields. This one told the number of
minutes remaining until the bridge would open. What I liked about
this system was that after the bridge had opened it would be fifteen
minutes until the next opening. But if you arrived at the bridge and
the clock had counted down to zero minutes it would then open right
up. At night when there was little or no boat traffic, any boat that
approached the bridge would not have a wait.
During
the time we were docked at the marina we did get to sight see in the
neighborhood and the biggest attraction was the super-sized yacht of
Aristotle and Jackie Onassis. We did check out the other marinas and
discovered that they were even more palatial than the place we were
at.
One
big surprise was that we happened to see our friends, Don and Betty
Currie going through the 17th Street bridge in their boat Ione.
This is the boat that had just towed us on our boat Dursmirg
from Superior, Wisconsin, to Duluth, Minnesota, when our boat was
launched. We had recently visited Don and Betty in the Florida Keys
when we invited them to come to St. Augustine.
Our
last night on Dudley’s boat in Fort Lauderdale was interesting to
say the least. We had an idea that Dudley loved to smoke up his
“weed” but we didn’t have any idea that he would carry a
sizable stash of the stuff. He had enough to get the authorities
attention for sure. With one of his big ear-to-ear grins, he pulled
out his screwdriver and unscrewed a metal flame deflector from above
the galley stove and down came a big carefully wrapped bag of his
clandestine stash.
While
we were all asleep that night, Jane happened to roll over in her
berth and put her foot on the cabin floor. She discovered that the
boat was filling with water. The marine head (toilet) had
inadvertently not been shut off after its last use, and water began
to siphon in and slowly flood the boat. Of course, the lower the boat
got in the water, the faster the water would flow in. Needless to say
this event required a couple of hours of intense work to rectify.
Dudley’s
mother drove down from Jacksonville to meet us and give us a ride
back to St. Augustine. She obviously had plenty of money judging by
the luxurious car she drove and the elegant clothes she wore.
Upon
arriving back in St. Augustine, the big news was that the authorities
had swooped down on Harry’s Boat Yard and made a “drug bust.”
They missed the one big haul they could have made on Dudley’s boat,
but they did find a potted marijuana plant on Steve and Lum’s boat,
for which they were fined $100.00. Steve and Lum were not in the
business but occasionally smoked a joint. They preferred to grow
their own. It was healthier and free of pesticides! The Sheriff’s
Department got a bust, and they made news!
May
22, 1973, our anchor was up, and we proceeded through the Bridge of
Lions heading north in the Intracoastal Waterway, leaving St.
Augustine, Florida, after our first whole winter away from snow and
ice. A wonderful new world of experiences and changing tacks awaited
us. We were sailing through life into those strange and uncharted
waters where we would have one of the most precious commodities of
all, the time to enjoy life to its fullest.
We
continue our adventures in our book Sailing the Sea Islands:
Travels of Dursmirg.
If
you are afraid of getting wet, you shouldn’t go sailing, bicycling,
or be a plumber.
Story 1: The Cowboy Wanna Be
Story 3;
Keg of Beer St. Augustine
