Thanksgiving

Enjoying the calm waters of Biscayne Bay, we all slept in on Thanksgiving.  Even on Strolla you get to sleep in on holidays.  Groggy and squinting in the bright mid morning sun, we stumbled on deck to read and tinker with the boat and while away the rest of the morning. 

 

 

(Dishing up Thanksgiving dinner)

 

At noon dinner preparations began.  Becca took charge.  In our cramped little cabin, on a rocking, two burner stove, she oversaw the preparation of a feast.  Turkey with gravy, mashed potatoes, stuffing, yams, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie. 

(As with the Pilgrims onboard the Mayflower, beer was our beverage of choice)

When all was ready, under a blazing Miami sun, we had a real Thanksgiving celebration.  We may have cut a few corners, instant mashed potatoes, and precooked boneless turkey breast but still, it was a crowning achievement.  

 

 

(Thanksgiving dinner)

As per tradition, we overate.  Then, sweating gravy, we groaned out of our seats and into a lethargic cleanup while the tryptophan coursed through our veins.  When all was once again washed and stowed, we weighed anchor, set sail and headed south.  

 

The sun set, the lights of Miami covered Biscayne Bay in an eerie, dusky glow and still we sailed south.  We sailed until we reached Angelfish Creek, a marked outlet through the barrier islands into the ocean.  There we turned east, charged through the cut, and reentered the Atlantic. 

The weather though currently against us, was forecast to turn briefly in our favor before several more days of poor conditions.  The predicted wind shift to the south had not yet happened though and was still solidly out of the east/southeast, not quite south enough to sail.  Throttle at full, the lights of Florida faded fast behind us as we crashed our way out into the dark, steep chop of the Gulf stream.  We were in for a rough, wet night.