The campsite was hollowed out from a nice group of trees and was sheltered from the wind. We work up early to the sound of manatees splashing around in the shallows. We rubbed the goo from our eyes, rekindled the fire, started some breakfast and had a sit down talk. We discussed the difficulties that presented themselves the previous evening. Apparently we could have launched the boat at the on the boat ramp that was right next to campsite #14. This brought up the concept of forecasts and their utility when planning a sailing excursion. Ken’s belief is that since forecasts are not 100% correct and often they are not even close, he would choose to stick with the plan and let the weather be what the weather will be. A case in point being our sail for this day. The forecast called for a sunny day with variable winds and no precipitation. We got a good laugh about it later when the squall blew in and we sat through a drenching rain.
The manatees were romping around and splashing, right next to camp, for most of the morning. We made some breakfast, looked over the map and decided to sail to some secluded islands on the south east side of the lagoon. Ken got out the spinnaker and we took down the mast to get the correct equipment on the top of the mast. I had a very bad case of heartburn and, with no tums in sight, I wanted to take it easy. Once Ken started training me on the use of the spinnaker, I told him that I would prefer a more relaxing sail. We switched positions, I was in the back and he was in the front. We launched and soon were sailing trouble free for a bit. However, the spinnaker kept getting caught up in the main sail. This was not going to be acceptable so we beached, took down the mast and stowed the spinnaker away.
More enjoyable sailing continued but getting to the islands we saw on the map proved elusive. Rather than chasing the islands, we started back to the campsite. Njord, the Norse god of the winds, took note and decided this was a good time to shift directions of the winds. They are now 180 degrees switched from last night’s winds. Once again, we find ourselves sailing directly into the wind without pedal-paddles to propel us. As we turned around we saw something else that was not predicted in this morning’s weather forecast a squall line thick with rain. We zigged and zagged back in the direction of the campsite but there was no escaping the rain. We beached the boat, furled the sail to protect us from the gusts and sat in the rain for about 40 minutes. It rained hard. What I mean by hard is that when looking out at the water, the surface was a five inch layer of frothy water. As the raindrops would hit the surface of the water, all the splashes rebounded up and combined to a thick layer of water going every which way possible. The drops had so much velocity that as the splashes bounced up, the next raindrop would get hit by yet another raindrop and so on.
