Boca Grande entrance

So I have arrived at Port Charlotte, and I started entering Boca Grande, the name of the pass, at about 7 this morning. Since the wind started Tuesday afternoon, it slowly intensified overnight until at the time I was entering it had built to 15-20 kts. I flew wing and wing with the main and the drifter almost all the way here, and about 10nm out I had to tack back in on a broad reach. The intensified winds were really too much for the drifter, so I was faced with a task that I otherwise hate which is bringing the drifter down in high winds. Did I mention 3-5’ seas and pitch darkness? I was a champ though, using the main to shadow the drifter, my one working spreader light, and a headband mounted light I got the drifter on deck in about a minute. Due to the fog and circumstances, the sail was wet, and I doused it with a good bit of seawater. I’ll have to find a time to dry the thing out else I’ll have a very stinky sail. After I got it doused under those circumstances I was quite proud of myself for doing so without any cursing or other oopsies. I quickly unrolled the big jib and chugged into the channel at full heel and also full speed. It was at this point I realized that the lobster trap had done some sort of damage to my Max Prop. It would no longer ‘feather’ and hence wants to spin while sailing. It had been creating drag the entire trip from the bay of Florida after I shut the engine down, but I only now realized it. I also discovered that putting the engine in reverse will kill it. I’m hoping that just a bit of rope is snagged up in the prop and that no metal is bent, otherwise repairs might be costly. That’s a 3000$ propeller, and issues like this reinforce my desire to replace it with a Campbell Sailor according to KISS principles. Anyway I sailed up all the way into Boca Grande fighting a mean 2kt current which met the south-westerly waves face-on. This caused the waves to steepen and break, which meant for an overall unpleasant ride. I opted to hand steer as the autopilot was fighting too hard, and I gave myself a strenuous whole-body workout contending with the extreme pitching of the boat and fighting the wheel. I did my best to balance the sails but the steep chop was a tough thing to fight against. The cost of failure was evident on both sides of the pass. Giant spumes of spray careened off of hidden underwater breakers and shoals. In case I didn’t have charts, that’s nature’s way of saying don’t go there if you want to live. It was actually quite an impressive and awe-inspiring sight to see the 7’ wave that just broke on my stern amble onward another 150’ and then explode against submarine rocks, filling the air with liquid destruction. It’s at times like these I really don’t want a steering, or any other failure. Otherwise my boat will earn the mark of bones on a chart like so many others, and I would be locky to escape unscathed. Needless to say I was the only one foolish enough to be entering under such conditions. As I came further in much to my delight the upwind rocks of Johnson Shoal shattered the trains of waves leaving me in flat water to contend with what had become 20kt winds with gusts to 25. I got myself in none to soon, and it would be getting nastier offshore. I called Derek and got local knowledge regarding how to navigate Pelican Pass into Pelican Bay. Apparently I had to follow a beach about 25’ away in water just deep enough to navigate in. By now I had lowered sails and was motoring, but it was nerve-wracking, as it was one of the lowest tides making ingress tight. As I was sailing in somebody called for the Tardis. Who knows of the Tardis and its Doctor in these parts? It turned out to be Rich and Cathy Vandenberg, they had been one of the sailboats that wasn’t anchored up in the tight bay because he didn’t want to risk the inevitable bump-aground that occurs with lack of local knowledge. They left from my dock 5 days before me, but they had taken a leisurely route that avoided all the offshore overnight madness that I had subjected myself to. They have invited me to join them for a Christmas dinner, for which I’ll prepare some sweet potatoes. It’s good to meet friends in unexpected places. After anchoring initially, I showered, cooked breakfast, and went to sleep. I slept until 1PM and then re-anchored in a better situation and now I can think about things. I already like this place better. The anchorage is big enough for 100 boats, but there’s only 6 or 7 scattered about. There’s land access to a big state park (Cayo Costa Island) that I will certainly take advantage of tomorrow morning. I’m in an area that’s not too shallow, the holding is plain sand and good, so overall I’m happy with life. I’ll hang out here until at least after Christmas, then I’ll head up into the bay to see what else this area has to offer. Also, I have to schedule a dive trip to see what the deal is with my propeller, which I hope is nothing expensive.