There were several highlights along the way from the marina where we started to our intended first-day destination, Indiantown Marina.  There were two locks to "lock through," the Okeechobee Lake to cross and miles of water to navigate safely, enjoying the sights and weather along the way.

Todd and Scott preparing the fenders for the lock ahead.

The locks were a new experience for me.  Scott had recently sailed in Europe where he had to go through hundreds of locks, so he was familiar with the many variations the locks could present.  The general things a boat operator needs to know about a lock is: How to request passage, when is it okay to enter, what side of the lock to be on, whether the lock provides lines or the boat must have lines ready, and another nice-to-know is how much the lock will lift or lower the boat.  The locks along the canal are all operated by the same organization, so the procedures seemed to be consistent among them.

The basics of the process will be documented on the charts for the area.  The lock keepers monitor a specific VHF radio channel and will respond to requests for opening or passage made on that frequency.  At our first lock, the keeper gave us pretty thorough instructions, something like: "There is currently a westbound vessel in the lock. Approach the lock, remain starboard to let the westbound vessel pass, wait until the light turns green to enter the lock.  You can use my lines, use either side of the lock to tie up, and the lock will lift you a foot and a half.  Expect about a 20-minute wait."  Those were very thorough instructions with some additional information that was helpful.

We had to use our binoculars to find the light the keeper referred to, and it was a typical traffic stoplight, currently red. Chuck let us deckhands know that he intended to tie up starboard side to, and then Scott guided Todd and I through the preparations.  Two of the large round fenders were tied fore and aft midships.  Todd was to monitor those and rescue them if it we approached the lock wall with any speed that could possibly roll the fender out of the way or scrape it off.  Scott was positioned in the cockpit and I was on the bow, both of us had a boat hook, and our job was to collect one of the lock's lines, loosely affix it to a cleat on the boat, and then monitor it as the lock filled, taking out slack to keep the boat next to the wall.

After hanging out outside the lock for 10 to 15 minutes, the lock doors opened, and we could see the westbound boat on the starboard side of the lock.  The boat in the lock seemed to take forever to move away from the wall and begin moving out of the lock.  We heard the lock keeper shout something at the boat, but we couldn't quite make it out.  I imagined it was something like, "What are you waiting for?  Get out of here," but that's what I wanted to say, and I suspect the lock keeper was nicer and was probably just wishing them a good day.

Chuck motored the boat gently to keep our distance and the boat's position to starboard while the outbound boat passed us, and then we waited patiently for the green light.  And waited.  And waited.  Finally, Chuck called on the radio, requesting a green light.  There was a 15-second pause, and the lock keeper responded, "Ignore the red light, proceed into the lock, Captain."  Apparently, there was a malfunction of some kind, or the lock keeper wasn't able to get back to the light control to make it green, but the lock was ready, and we entered.

We were ready, knew what to expect, and the process was fairly simple.  Apart from Chuck skilfully moving the boat to the starboard wall and getting next to it and stopping at the point we wanted to tie up, the hardest part was deciding which lock line to grab and secure to the boat.  The lock lines were dangling down from the top of the lock wall, spaced approximately every 20 feet.  The boat came close to the wall and practically stopped, so I grabbed the line closest to the starboard spring line cleat, checking to make sure that Scott had a line nearby, and then I took a turn around the cleat and waited to adjust it as the boat moved.  That was it.  We were ready to move a foot and a half.

The lock doors closed.  There may have been some water pumped into the lock where we sat to lift us some, but what appeared to happen is that the lock doors on the exit side began to open very slowly, letting in the higher water on the other side at a very controlled and comfortable rate.  The change in height was barely noticeable.  My only indication of vertical movement was that the line I was holding became slack.  I supposed the wall was also moving down slowly, but I didn't really notice that.

At one of the locks, Scott pointed out that there are small bollards (vertical attachment points) set into the wall every 6 feet or so.  Some of the locks he'd transited in Europe required the boat to use their own lines, and the only way to attach the boat to the wall was by using those bollards, and those locks moved the boat much more than a foot and a half.  The line handlers had to scramble to move the lines up or down the wall as the boat was raised or lowered, keeping movement away from or along the wall to a minimum, because there were often many boats in the lock at one time, sometimes packed in tightly.  Today we were lucky to be the only boat in the lock at both locks.

Once the exit doors had opened completely, we were at the new water level and ready to continue on our journey.  Chuck gently moved the boat away from the wall and began moving forward.  The keeper did tell us to proceed, reporting that there were several boats waiting for the lock around the corner to the right, and that they should stay clear.

Once around the corner, we had to wait for a group of air boats that had just launched from a boat ramp there and were crossing the channel.  The picture below is lousy but gives some idea of what we saw as we came out of the lock and turned the corner.

We were doing regular engine room checks while underway.  I had been down for the 3 we did throughout the day, the first one by myself, the second with Todd, and for the third I asked Scott to join me, because he had a critical eye and had some questions about things I was seeing that I couldn't answer.  The engine room is noisy while running at speed, but with hearing protection on it wasn't bad, and thankfully I had two pairs of sound attenuators.  It's also hot, but not as hot as I thought it would be.  During each check, we'd record for both engines: fuel pressure on the Racor filter housing, oil pressure,and transmission temperature, and then I'd usually note any general observations, like "oil seeping from port engine oil filter, tried to hand tighten but too hot," bilge conditions, etc.  Later, I'd use the general observations to ask questions or make adjustments that couldn't be made while the engines were running.

The engine room checks were okay, but there were a couple concerns that we were watching:  The shaft logs were not dripping, the starboard fuel pressure at the Racor was climbing and currently in the middle of the yellow zone, and Scott noticed a very minor leak in the steering system that we agreed to clean up and monitor.

There are other highlights along the way that I'll cover later, but the day is beginning aboard the boat and I need to cut to the chase. I won't leave a tease as I did at the end of my last post and not delivery, so here goes.

We had planned to stop at Indiantown Marina, because we couldn't make the third and final lock between our starting point and the ocean before the locks closed at 5 PM.  The marina was easy to find, just 80 yards or so off the canal.  Their dockage area is small compared to where we came from, the land boat storage area is huge, and it is covered with many, many boats.

Chuck did a masterful job backing into a spot on the 'face dock' with another boat already on the dock.  The owner of that boat came to catch lines as we pulled in.  We completed tying up and our arrival boat chores.  I was so excited about the day that I sat down immediately and cracked open the computer to begin the "Could it get any better?" post. Shortly after I'd written the title and talked about grinning from ear to ear, I heard Scott call from the engine room hatch in the cockpit, "Greg, you'd better come see this."

Not wanting to leave my current task, I asked, "Is it a show-stopper?"

"Just come see," he answered.

Behind the ladder to the engine room is where the steering mechanism is, and the small leak we'd noted earlier on the shelf where the steering slave cylinder was installed had become a huge puddle of oil.  I looked inside the engine room at the steering fluid reservoir and noted that it was empty or very close to it, and the pressure gauge on the top was at or very near zero.  Our hydraulic steering had lost all fluid and was now useless.

We have to run to talk to the marina service guy right now, but I'll put this disaster in perspective and describe what we're up to in order to keep going.  I'll know more about the latter when we return and schedule a service call, so holding that for later will be best.

Back soon,

Greg.