Cruise to Nowhere

While Chris and I were in the keys a couple of years ago, we took a "Danger" cruise. This trip promised to have us kayaking, lunch, sailing and snorkling. The cruise itself involved more motoring than sailing. There simply was very little wind to push this rather large sailboat in the water. Being optimistic, the people running the cruise threw all the sheets to the wind, hoping to catch a breeze. We ended up using the motor so we could get in all the activities planned. Once we got to the Island, they gave us a crash course in kayaking before we hit the water. Chris and I were both experienced paddlers, so we were some of the first to get in the water. We paddled through the mangrove area of the island after passing over the seagrass beds complete with sea cucumbers and hundreds of fish.

Our trip ended with us getting in the water to snorkel at the Grecian Rocks. The grecian Rocks were a disappointment compared to the reef off of John Pennecamp. I highly recommend the reef there, it is the largest reef in the United States.

While traveling back, we had a wonderful lunch provided by the crew. I shot multiple pictures while on board and this painting is one of them. I love the feeling you get when looking at this painting hence the name, Cruise to Nowhere. I really enjoy a good hard sail and miss our sailboat Mariah. We have friends willing to take us, but it is never enough!

Cruise to Nowhere, Acrylic on Canvas 18 x 36

Great Blue

Great Blue came about because of our trip to the keys in May. We love to camp in our teardrop camper and kayak the local waterways when we travel. We stayed at Curry Hammock State Park Campground in the keys. Our view from the back of the site was the waters of the Gulf Stream. While picturesque, it also had a "ahem" lovely smell from the decaying seaweed washed ashore. The front of our site was near the bath house. The bath house was unique as it had composting toilets and solar power to run the whole operation. It also had a neat device to allow the rangers to lower and lock down the solar panels in case of an impending storm.

One morning, my husband Chris and I decided to launch our kayak in the shallow water and set out for an adventure. We had no idea where we were going, but we hugged the shoreline and I photographed the birds and iguanas along the way. We did not really have any map to indicate which key was which so we just kept turning to the right in hopes of coming back to where we started. We came upon a hamlet and observed a fellow paddler coming out so we decided to investigate. Once in the hammock we were virtually surrounded by mangrove swamps and did not see an exit. Hugging the coast, we finally found a faded sign that pointed into the mangroves. Feeling a sense of adventure, we glided into the cool darkness. I was quite captivated by the beauty of the trees, their fantastic root systems and the play of light filtering through the leaves. The trees seemed to be closing in on us and we wondered if indeed we were going in the right direction. Chris and I were talking about snakes dropping from the heights above when we came heard a hello ahead. There was a couple canoeing in from the other way. We pulled over as far as possible to the other side to let them pass, Chris asking if this was the way out. They said yes and not soon after, the trees parted and we found ourselves going under the bridge that was the entrance to the park. Chris breathed a loud sigh and I asked what was wrong, he explained that in the mangrove he felt quite claustrophobic and was getting eaten alive by mosquitos. Normally, I am the one who does not like tight spaces and fortunately for me, mosquitos don't like the way I taste! We entered a lagoon area that fed back into the main water through a channel where there were several men fishing. Off to the side was the Great Blue Heron, waiting for his next free meal. This bird was almost tame, in that he was standing not 5 feet from the men. Every now and then, one of them would catch a small fish and not throw it back, but towards the Heron. Hence the bird had become quite large, and close to being a pet as it watched carefully every move the men made, hoping beyond hope for the next free ride to it's belly.