This episode was at the tail end of a cruise where a buddy and I had taken our boats down to the Keys for several days in 2012. On my way home I...
~~~~I then decided to launch and cruise the freshwater side of the St Lucie and head toward Lake Okeechobee. The wind was blowing, but the canal was extremely pleasant. Maybe I’d do the whole 30 miles to the Port Mayaka Lock that opens into the lake? Na, I couldn’t make it on the gas I had aboard. OK then, I’d run up 15 miles, then head back. A couple miles short of the 15 miles I planned on going, I found a marina, the Indiantown Marina. Hey, now I could go all the way to the lock before turning around. The gas was about $2/gallon, so I only bought 5 gallons, plenty to get me to the lock and back to the ramp. After the enthusiastic boating Tris and I had done in the Keys, I was really enjoying the serenity of the canal. When I got to the Port Mayaka Lock, it was open. I wouldn’t have considered transiting the lock if it had been closed, but for some reason I had to go in and lock up. I had trouble managing the lines solo in the lock because it was so windy, and the lockmaster suggested it was a bit rough on the lake, but these warnings did not register after the pleasant cruise I’d had on the canal. As the lock gates opened and the wind and seas funneled into the lock I knew the picnic was over. I’d studied the ‘Rim Route’ around Lake Okeechobee, so I was familiar with the placement of the markers and knew the nearest marina was 10 miles. I could make that even in the slop that had surprised me on the lake.. Or could I? I was about 3 miles into the run when the wind really picked up. The Rim Route is right at the edge of the lake. There was 25 miles of fetch for that NW wind of 25 mph. There were no beaches along the lee shore – there was rip-rap. I couldn’t get on a plane in the 4’ swells so I had to grunt my way along at a terribly inefficient speed, using up my precious gas. If I ran out of gas, I’d try getting the anchor down, but if it didn’t dig in I’d surely end up on the rocks. I was taking every wave aboard, soaking wet, hanging on with both hands, 6 miles and hour, up and down, rocking, rocking, rocking. At least it was fresh water, and it was reasonable warm. I started to get exhausted from the constant barrage of water in the face, and contemplated tying off to one of the markers and waiting it out – except the forecast was for the wind to increase and the temps to drop…to freezing that night. Even with the motor out of gear, the gas gauge wouldn’t stay put long enough to get a decent reading – I took it as a good sign that there was enough gas in the tank to slosh. Finally the marina began to materialize on the horizon…I’m almost there. But as I approached I realized it was a park, not a marina; I still had three miles to go, three long miles. “If I make it, I’m not coming back out here – no way!” Finally, the Pahokee Marina and Campground. Man did those breakwaters look good. Even though the wind was howling, the water inside was peaceful. I tied up to the dock at one of the ramps and collapsed in the cuddy for a few minutes to collect myself. I then put on some dry clothes and walked to the marina. When they heard I was in a boat, they asked if I wanted a slip for the night. “Heck No I don’t want a slip! What I want is a ride back to my truck/trailer. I’m not going back out on that lake!” I asked if there was a cab service for the area. They ran their finger down a column in the Yellow Pages and read off a number. The phone rang through about 4 circuits. Someone finally answered. The ‘cab’ company was 10 miles from the marina, but they didn’t have a ‘long distance’ cab and the manager wasn’t there. (The folks at the marina had warned me that the cab was not known for it’s long distance capabilities.) I’d have to call back when the manager was there. I did call back about 45 minutes later. The manager didn’t speak English very well, but we did come to the understanding that he didn’t know where the St Lucie Lock was and he wasn’t enthusiastic about a 40 mile fare. “Someone around here has to be going to Stuart,” I kept telling myself. I asked folks in about 6 cars parked at the lake overlook. No takers. I couldn’t blame them – I hadn’t shaved in 5 days and even though I was wearing a ‘fresh’ set of clothes (that I’d pulled out of a dry bag) I had to look pretty questionable. Maybe there was a boater on board at the marina that would take pity on me. But I couldn’t get out on the docks – there were locked gates. I was about to see if the folks at the marina would allow me on the docks, when I saw a couple heading for a pick-up camper in the parking lot. I was out of breath when I overtook them, he was reaching for the door handle. “I’m a boater. That’s my boat at the dock. I don’t want to go back out on the lake. I’m looking to buy a ride to the St. Lucie Lock.” He hesitated...like I would have done while I was trying to think of a way to not have to deal with this nuisance. His wife was silent too. I’m not known for approaching strangers, but I had to give it another shot. “The weather turned on me out on the lake. I don’t want to have to go back out there!” He said, “We’ll take you to the St. Lucie Lock. We’re camped there. You go around and sit on the outside, my wife can sit in the middle (of the front seat of the pickup)”. I went silent. Did I hear right? Were these folks really going to give me a lift? I got in. We hit it off right away. They were boaters too. Great couple. We shared boating stories all the way back to the lock. Great folks. It felt funny pulling the empty trailer back to Pahokee, like there was a part of me missing. The trip seemed longer back to the marina than the ride to the lock. Nicky (my 18' Seaswirl cuddy) was where I left her, and it wasn’t long before she was on the trailer, ready to head north. I was ready too. The wind was still howling as we left the parking lot (4pm ish), and it was getting colder. I was happy to be in the nice warm truck. The trip to and up I95 was uneventful. I didn’t know how many of the still to go 600+ miles I could get behind me before dark, or even if I’d have the energy to make it that long, but I was in no hurry at all. For some reason, even though I was still pretty fatigued from the Lake Okeechobee experience, I kept driving well into the night, eventually sleeping in the truck at the SC Welcome Center. I was home by 1pm Saturday…and wouldn’t you know it, the place was covered with snow!
