Cruising World – August 2019

cr

u

is

in

gw

o

rl

d

.c

o

m

THIN WATER, BIG SUNSHINE

and carried them to the park.
The price was even better at our next
overnight, the LaBelle City Wharf, where
we’d read we could stay free for three days
including power and water. Those docks
were full, so we headed across the canal to
Bob Mason Town Park, where we ended
up spending two quiet nights. Rebecca
and I walked daily across the bridge and
through the friendly town under big oak
trees hanging with moss, and returned to
the boat carrying propane and groceries
on our backs.
Liberte continued our unhurried pace
west, the waterway now named the
Caloosahatchee River. We were delighted
by the lady bridgekeeper who carried a
parasol and admonished us kindly, “You
kids stay warm, now” on a morning that
was easily 70 degrees. This was a pleasant
countryside, with the kinds of houses that
make you think, “Hey, we could live there,”
mingled with orange groves.
We motored on, once again squinting
straight into the sun (a downside of
westbound travel in the late afternoon),
and reached Fort Myers with just enough

light to thread the white stakes marking

the channel to the mooring field. We

launched our dinghy using the spinnaker

halyard to hoist it off the foredeck and

the main halyard to lower the engine.

The 4 hp Mercury fired right up after its

long summer layup, and we gave hoots

of joy.

We dinghied in to pay for our mooring,

and Rebecca reported that the marina

shore shower ranked a 10 out of 10. “It

has hot water, good pressure, it’s clean,

and there are places to hang your stuff,”

she exalted. She smelled good, and I

took her out on the town by walking a

few blocks to the upscale River District,

where we found gourmet tacos and live

music. It was uncomfortably cold going

back to the boat, a reminder of how chilly

Florida winters can be. We had learned in

previous seasons here to pack jackets, hats

and even socks, although I tend to view

putting on socks any time of year as a sure

sign of defeat.

I wanted to make a better water-pump

repair, so we booked a couple of nights at

Cape Coral Godman Yacht Basin, across

the river in Cape Coral. We enjoyed the

pool and small beach, and watched every

sunset from the Boat House Tiki Bar.

We walked in to town for the Saturday

farmers market, and then hailed the free

Nickel Ride, with a big man named Tiny

bringing us back to Liberte. I replaced

the water pump with our spare, and we

upgraded our six-year-old Trojan T105

house batteries, which bulged around the

terminals. A local vendor dropped the

new batteries by as I lugged him our old

ones, easy as could be.

What a feeling of freedom to cast off

and head for nearby Pine Island Sound

with our systems sorted, our boat provi-

sioned to the gills, and our spirits ready

to explore. We sat back and watched the

sunset show from our anchorage off St.

James City with particular satisfaction.

This was the first of many places we

would choose on this trip using the

Navionics boating app, where other

sailors leave notes on anchorages, marinas

and hazards. It proved a handy source of

information throughout our travels.

Our next anchorage was 17 miles north

via the Intracoastal Waterway. We kept

the red marks to starboard—“Red right

returning to Texas,” as the saying went—

and stayed in the channel to avoid the

dredge spoils on either side. Pelican Bay

at Cayo Costa State Park had come up

in every conversation about Pine Island

Sound, and we approached with a sense

of anticipation. The narrow, unmarked

entrance hugs the beach, and we found

plenty of room to anchor with 20 or so

other boats.

Since we began cruising Liberte, we have

loved the contrast our boat provides of

spending a few days in civilization and then

heading out for more-remote places. The

Canadian Provincial Parks spoiled us in

this regard. So did the Sea of Cortez, the

Las Perlas and San Blas islands of Panama,

and the outer atolls of Belize. Here, in

one of America’s most densely populated

states, we were once again living the

dream: anchored in a wild, beautiful place,

rowing ashore for a beach workout and

shell hunt, and returning to Liberte to enjoy

chimichurri egg tacos for lunch, while

photons flew 93 million miles to warm our

skin and power our simple needs.

Florida’s varied harbors can be charming and entertaining, as Liberte’s crew

discovered in the canals of St. James City (above) or the signage at Cabbage Key

(below). They also found plenty of solitude, sometimes within sight of a city

skyline, such as when Liberte sat at anchor with sails off at season’s end (right).