Plot Twist Yacht

  Last time we left off, the big question was how and where we’d meet our kids for Christmas. Answer: beautifully. ❤️ Christmas was everything I hoped for—getting to spend it with all three of my boys was a gift I’ll never take for granted. Then it was time to shift gears. Back to the boat. Back to reality. And off to Fort Pierce for haul-out . I wasn’t nervous about leaving Stuart—we had a plan. (You already know where this is going.) We gave ourselves 5 hours and 30 minutes to make it to the marina, even though the trip should’ve taken about 4½ hours . Plenty of cushion, right? We glided off the mooring feeling confident… until we reached the double trouble combo : the drawbridge and the railroad bridge that sit so close together they both have to open to get through. I hailed the bridge. Nothing. I waited. Hailed again. Still nothing. Finally, a very kind woman monitoring the channel politely informed us, “The bridges are on Channel 9.” Yes. I knew that. Also...

Our stay in Stuart turned into a holding pattern we hadn’t planned—but quickly learned to appreciate. We scheduled our haul-out for a few weeks later than expected when the marina couldn’t take us right away due to maintenance in Ft Pierce. Boats, like life, rarely follow the calendar you carefully create. Before we could pivot to land life, though, we tackled a round of boat chores. And while there were many things on the list, my happiest moment came with a bottle of cleaner, a rag, and pure determination. I finally removed the awful glue left behind by the guy who installed our lettering. Before   After If you’ve never tried to remove sticky residue from a boat that has just traveled from Ft. Myers to Stuart, let me tell you—every no-see-um between those two points apparently found it irresistible. The glue had turned into a bug magnet of epic proportions. But after some elbow grease and a small victory dance, it was gone. And honestly? I think it turned out great. With the chor...

After four days crossing Florida on our great Okeechobee adventure, we pulled into Stuart on fumes—emotional, physical, and probably mechanical if we’re being honest. Once secured to our mooring ball we grabbed a quick breath, and immediately collapsed into the kind of nap that can only be described as   medically necessary . When we finally resurfaced, blinking like moles seeing daylight for the first time, we went ashore to officially check in to our mooring at  Sunset Bay Marina & Anchorage … and instantly wondered why no one had warned us we were about to fall in love. Because listen—this place? 
 A cruiser's dream.   A Marina Worth Writing Home About *Before I start gushing, my heart will always belong to Snookbight Marina due to the people we left behind. Now, about Sunset Bay Marina and Anchorage. It spoiled us instantly: •             Free laundry  (yes, FREE—boat people understand the joy) •  ...

  Day four of our Okeechobee crossing began like all great boating stories do: in the dark, at 4:00 a.m., with something just unsettling enough to jolt us fully awake. Plot Twist had swung completely around in the anchorage—nothing unusual—but considering the anchor had already proven to be more enthusiastic than reliable, we weren’t exactly comforted. We lay there for a while, trying to drift back to sleep, but the kind of rest you get between 4:00 and 6:00 a.m. The day ahead felt big. We knew we might need to anchor in a windy bay, and with an anchor we didn’t trust, uncertainty makes itself very comfortable in your mind. Rumor also had it that the lock operator we’d encounter next was, reportedly, “downright mean.” Nothing like a little morning dread to go with your coffee. Before we even raised anchor, a boat motored up the channel and hailed the lock operator. We quickly hailed to be second in line. A third boat slipped out from the campground and marina across from us. Then a...

Day Three was supposed to be our   big push : Moore Haven to the St. Lucie Lock with dreams of making Stuart before nightfall. We left Riverhouse Marina after a brief delay waiting on a train bridge—foreshadowing we absolutely did not pick up on at the time.  Our spirits were high. If we hit St. Lucie by 4:30, we could tuck into Stuart like seasoned pros. But first, we called ahead to the Moore Haven lock, determined not to repeat our last rodeo. They were friendly. We slid through the first lock without a single dramatic moment. Confidence level: ridiculously high.  Then came Lake Okeechobee.  Many had warned us: “It gets shallow out there.” But watching the depth drop from ten feet… to eight… to six… to 0.8 under the keel is an entirely different experience. I think I aged three years before we even made the turn into the lake itself. We stayed glued to the center of the channel for the greatest depths. Once inside the lake’s belly, the chop eased, and it turned al...

  We woke up on Day Two to the gentle, comforting sound of… dragging. Yes. Our anchor—our beloved, trusted, “she’s got us” anchor—had decided she’d done enough work for one night and was going on strike.Now, before we left Snook Bight Marina, a lovely lady aboard a fellow KK48 Whaleback had mentioned she wasn’t sure our anchor would hold well in mud. I smiled, nodded politely, and filed it under  “things to think about later.” Turns out “later” was sunrise, with the boat sliding along like an unattended shopping cart on a windy day. Lesson of the morning: Always listen to seasoned boaters. They know things. Important things. Like which anchors behave and which anchors have commitment issues.After a night of not sleeping (because it’s your first time using an anchor alarm that you don’t know if you can trust), we pulled ourselves together and headed toward our first bridge of the day.Now, I’m a planner.I had a beautifully printed sheet with every bridge name, height, opening sc...