Day 21 : Please God Don't Let us Go Down

October 18, 2017

Clewiston, Florida - Port St. Lucia, Florida

"Please God don't let us go down, please Jesus let our boat stay afloat, please protect us, Oh God!"  is the phrase of the day.  Crossing Lake Okeechobee was intense!  Obviously we made it through safely, but I wasn't 100% confident that our boat would make it today.

We entered the lake knowing it was going to be choppy;  it's a large shallow lake and it was windy.  We were particularly concerned about wrecking another prop.  We were warned how frequently it happens and to stay within the channel markers.  Little did we know that was the least of our worries.

Just barely a third of the way across the lake, the slight chop turned into 6 foot chop.  Sound familiar?  This is what happened when we left Destin and we lost the back of our boat, our grill, and our autopilot.  Are we really going to do this again?! With the cold front coming in and our time schedule, we need to cross this lake today and be heading to Bahamas tomorrow.  So, yes, we are going to do this again; hopefully, this time not breaking stuff.  I'm already nervous from our previous encounters with rough choppy lakes.

Joie's tummy is getting queasy.  Jeeno pukes up bile; we didn't feed him breakfast today hoping he wouldn't get sick, but it doesn't matter.  Our whole boat is rocking to and fro.  Jacob is steering the boat from the fly-bridge because we had to close the isinglass to prevent the water from constantly spraying in.  I'm silently thinking we should turn back, but I keep holding on watching the depth meter and ensuring our autopilot and stereo don't get drenched.  All of a sudden Jacob hollers.  He drops the speed and comes down below.  Our bow went completely under water three times!  Jacob was having trouble maneuvering the trim tabs to the highest position to keep the bow out of the water.  At this point Jacob tells me to turn on the bilges, the mechanism that empties the boat of any water that is inside.  He had me look at the forward bilge, the one inside the cabin; there isn't very much water in it at all.  What is the problem?!!!!  He directs the kids and I to empty everything heavy from the front of the boat.  We typically keep 4 scuba tanks up there to balance out the weight, but today we need less weight up there.  Even the back of the boat looked lower than normal.  We were getting hit with waves from behind also.  All sorts of worries began to fill my head.  Oh my God!  Are we gonna sink the boat in the middle of this shallow mucky lake?  I was prepared to throw everything overboard if it came down to it, nothing on this boat is as valuable as the boat itself.  We filled our fresh water holding tank last night so I turn on the freshwater pump and run the faucet.  We don't need fresh water if the boat is going down.

In addition to the tanks we moved everything heavy to the back of the boat: books, cans of food, the ice chest, gallon jugs of drinking water, etc.  As I'm moving around the cabin area gathering the items the boat is jostling me around.  I can hear the waves slamming against her; it sounds as if she's gonna crack.  "Oh, God please not today, please let us make it to St. Thomas."  I check multiple compartments for water.  If there isn't water near the bilge pumps maybe its coming in from a crack some where.  I see a small crack, one I haven't noticed before.  Possibly because I wasn't looking for a crack.  Prayerfully, there is no water anywhere it shouldn't be.  Thank God!

The next wave catapults the boat.  I can feel the whole front of the boat is airborne.  Our 38 foot boat is taking these waves like I ride a seadoo.  I like to ride over the largest wave I can find to get as much air as possible.  In a boat I would rather glide across the water.  We come down with a crash!  I haven't stopped praying, but at this moment I add, "please protect our boat from these waves!"

Everything heavy is in the back of the boat.  I drain the cooler of excess water and pop open a corona for me and hand one to Jacob.  I slam it and grab another one.  I'm silently totally freaking out.  I look at Jacob's face to discern our status and ask if redistributing the weight helped.  I'm relieved a little when he confirms it helped, but I am still on the verge of announcing, "Life Vests On!"

I ask him how much longer do we have; I feel like our boat cannot handle much more of this abuse.  About 14 more miles, one more hour, we can do this.  "Please God help us do this."

We can finally turn out of the "ditch", the place where the direction of the waves is hitting the side of our boat.  Now we are heading into the waves.  Though the waves are still as large it is much easier to ride the waves, slowing and accelerating in unison with the waves.

Finally, we can see the other side of the lake!  We are almost there.  We have had seagulls following us the whole time so Joie and I start feeding them. We are going to make it!  The boat isn't going down today!! 

Two more locks to go.

The lock exiting Lake Okeechobee is already open because the lake is unusually high from hurricane Irma; we never had to worry about hitting ground even though we went outside the channel a few times struggling to battle the waves.  As we enter the the lock master comes over the radio instructing us we need to radio for permission to enter ANY lock , open or closed.  Whoops.  Another amateur mistake.  The water is so calm now, it's unbelievable.

Now that we have made it across the lake safely, our next task is to get Jeeno and I to the vet.  I chose to go to Surfside Animal Hospital; they do international health certificates, have a complimentary first visit, and they were very helpful and friendly.  The nearest dock is 1.5 miles from the vet so Jeeno and I hop off and walk while Jacob and the kids keep motoring along to a farther marina.  Our goal is for them to get to a farther marina and I'll Uber with Jeeno after the vet. 

We get Jeeno a Leptospirosis shot, fecal exam, internal and external parasite meds, and his health certificates.  Aside from being endorse we are set to travel to the islands.  Well, we weren 't able to get him a coronavirus vaccine so fingers crossed Bahamas will overlook that.  I mean, come on, it's an influenza vaccine that simply isn't needed anymore.

The kids and Jacob battle more waves and rain, finally docking at Mariner's Cay marina.  Luckily, my Uber driver is willing to take Jeeno along for the ride; we arrive at the marina within 20 minutes.  Success!  We made it!  I pour myself a glass of wine to unwind and we drop in the fishing poles.  A perfect way to end a chaotic day.  Praise Jesus, we get another shot tomorrow!