A History of The Mary Mary – Part 1– Tampa Bay to Fort Meyers, Florida (2006-2007)

Well, it’s now December the 27th, two days after Christmas and still a long, dark four months until we are back on board. The Mary Mary sits shivering on her blocks in Port Severn, Ontario and thoughts shift to warmer climes. And that is why it has occurred to me to fill you in on the history of the mighty Mary. From the time of my taking possession, that is.

I bought the boat in October, 2006 from my beloved bosuns father, Master Bradley Johnson. It came to be that, owing to the sale of a cottage I once owned in Bancroft, I found myself with a hefty sum in pocket. Attempts to find another cottage similar to the one I had sold (under duress I might add, but that’s another story) were fruitless in that for the amount of money I now had I could only expect to get a property 3 or 4 hours drive away at best and that wasn’t going to cut it.

It came to my attention that the aforementioned Brad Johnson was trying to sell a Grand Banks 36 that had been docked in Tampa Bay, Florida for the last couple of years. Owning a boat of substance had always been a bit of a dream for me, especially since I had taken up scuba diving. So I expressed interest and he and I flew down to have a look at her. Well, it was proverbial love at first sight and I committed, after some sleepless nights, to purchasing the boat. Best decision I ever made. Other than taking up relations with Brooke some time later.

At dock In Fort Myers

I put a substantial amount down and Bradley kindly agreed to finance me for the rest for a few years (GB’s aren’t cheap) and in October of 2006 Brooke, Bradley and I arrived in Tampa Bay to begin the task of bringing the boat north to Toronto. I had decided to motor her up for two reasons… the adventure of doing so and the cost of traveling it by truck. Mostly the former. Also there was the thought that I could learn the ropes on the way. This proved both a heady and frightening experience at times. I had taken the Canadian Power Squadron's basic boating course and had my operator's papers and radio license... but that was all theoretical.

Bradley, again with great kindness (and probably to avoid reading about my demise in the morning papers) agreed to accompany me for the first week of travel and show me a few things. This would take us from Tampa Bay, down the coast as far as Fort Meyers, where he and Brooke would depart back to Toronto and I would have to find another mate to help on the next leg.

After a day of provisioning we had a breakfast out and then headed out onto the waterway. Part of my heart was in my throat and a couple of other pieces were tacked to my sleeve.

Cappie and Brad Johnson... "I think we should be over there..."

Now, if you’re not familiar with the art of following charts and maps, at the best of times it can be difficult to stay on track and not drift into shallow waters. Which is what we did. At about four in the afternoon on our first day at sea we ran aground. The boat was lodged firmly but not dangerously and it would only be with the next high tide that we would float free. This would be in the dark of night and several hours away. Which was fine until the waves started to increase and bounce us around.

"Yep, definitely over there..."

I should say at this point that one of my fears about this boating thing was that I have experienced sea-sickness several times before and had something of a weakness for it back then. As the boat pitched and rolled, jammed into the soft floor of the Gulf of Mexico, I grew more and more uncomfortable and certainly couldn’t eat the dinner that Brooke and Bradley, oblivious it seemed, to the movement, had fixed for themselves... spaghetti. As the pungent smells of tomato, onion and garlic filled the cabin, I began to wonder if I had made a colossal mistake in buying a boat. Could I handle the sea life? But after lying down for a bit I grew more determined and decided then and there that I would master this and not embarrass myself by having to run out onto the deck and do what I felt like doing.  I fought off  the nausea eventually and lay on my bunk until we were mercifully set adrift by the incoming tide and we could re-start the engines and resume our course. (Side Note: To this day and despite many times when the conditions were similar, I have never lost it on the water.)

The welcoming committee

During the remainder of the trip to Fort Meyers, we experienced many exciting things: whole pods of dolphins following the boat and playing off our bow (they seem to be particularly drawn to us and I theorize that the frequency of GB engines was the reason as other boats close by didn’t have the charm); we ran aground again and were rescued by some fishermen who set us free from the muck by speeding around us in a circle and rocking us out of the mud with their wash; great meals both on and off board and hordes of stars at night. I performed my first docking at a marina (something I had been dreading) with absolute precision. I don't mean to boast. I only mention it in order to set up the mayhem that I would cause later on. But for now, at least, I was beginning to feel comfortable at the helm.

Beautiful...

Then, unfortunately, that first magic week came to a close and Brooke and her father were to fly back home to Toronto and I would be on my own for the next leg. To be sure, I would be joined by my friend and colleague, Bruce Hunter, but he had less experience than me even. And for this first time, the night between their departure and Bruce’s arrival, I would be on my own with the anxiety of the  unknown journey ahead of me.

Leaping along off the starboard beam

After they had gone, I sat aboard for a few hours looking around and playing the cheapo blue guitar that I had bought at a large chain store whose name we dare not speak. After a while, I couldn’t just sit around so I went ashore and ended up drowning my fears in a pound of crab clusters at Captain Joe's Crab Shack. If you’ve never had Dungeness crab, don’t delay any longer. It is fabulously delicious and was chiefly responsible for turning the tide that night. Full and sleepy, I was able to drop into my bunk later and get a good sleep with the slight sway of my boat and the soft chafing of lines along the pier. My first night alone on my boat.

Shot from the bow. Dolphin is just under the surface

The next day, bright and early, I was up and off to the chandlers to pick up a couple of hardware items I needed. When I got back to the boat I was greeted by a phone call from Mister Hunter. He didn’t think he was going to make it down….   (Stay tuned)