Mai Thai Wanderings

After nearly 25 years of cruising and living aboard our boat, our logbook is full of unforgettable memories —moments that come rushing back with just a scent of salt air, the sight of open water, or a glowing sunset. In our last post, we shared a few of those treasured experiences. Here's another that still brings a smile and fills us with gratitude.

Manatees and Sunsets at Marathon Key, Florida

One February, we found ourselves tied up at Marathon Marina, just before the iconic Seven Mile Bridge. While Marathon doesn’t have the fame of Key West, it has its own quiet charm – a favorite waypoint for cruisers looking to rest, restock, or prep for the next leg.

During our stay, we installed a second anchor and added a weaver davit for our dinghy. It was the kind of place where you tackle boat projects by day and swap sea stories and weather updates with fellow cruisers by night. Many cruisers linger here, waiting for the right window to make a crossing to the Bahamas or Central America. In the meantime, it’s easy to fall into the relaxed rhythm of the Keys.

But what made our time there truly memorable were the sunsets -- and the manatees.

Every evening, rain or shine, boaters would gather on the docks, cocktail in hand, to watch the sky light up in brilliant oranges, pinks, and purples as the sun dipped behind the horizon. It wasn’t just a view; it was a ritual that brought everyone together.

And then there were the manatees.

One day, while doing dishes, we heard a loud crash outside. We rushed out to find a manatee drinking from our drainpipe! From that day on, we’d run a little water intentionally, and they’d return for a drink. Watching these gentle giants up close, floating beside the boat, was nothing short of magical.

It’s these little surprises—the quiet rituals and wild encounters—that make life on the water so special.

Stormy Skies Over Yorktown, Virginia

While docked at Tidewater Yacht Marina in Portsmouth, we met new sailing friends aboard Kahala and cruised together up the York River to historic Yorktown. We anchored near the bridge and took the dinghies ashore to explore the battlefield.

The day started out sunny and calm—but by afternoon, a storm was rolling in fast.

Waves were already building as we tried to relaunch the dinghy. It took everything we had to push off the beach and climb aboard in the wind and chop. By the time we finally cast off, the captain was drenched—and so was his brand-new cell phone, which had been tucked in his pocket. Oops!

Kahala tried to head out but had to return after getting hit by gusts up to 43 knots. Thankfully, our anchor held, and we rode out the storm safely.

Just another reminder: never to fight with Mother Nature. As for the cell phone, we had to get a new one at the next port-of-call.

Mai Thai, anchored near the bridge, rode out the storm safely

Sweet Surprise at Shackleford Banks, Beaufort, N. Carolina

Visiting Cape Lookout had long been on our boating bucket list—but rough weather had other plans. After a bumpy night at anchor, we decided to skip the lighthouse tour and head back toward Beaufort.

As we neared Shackleford Banks, we spotted a crowd of boats, music, and laughter wafting across the water. A party was happening—and we weren’t about to miss it.

We eased our way in (it’s shallow!) and found more than just a fun stop —it was a hidden gem (to us). We spent the afternoon soaking in the sunshine, found an amazing array of beautiful shells (we chose just one as a special anniversary keepsake), and to our amazement, saw wild horses grazing peacefully nearby.

What began as a change of plans turned into one of our favorite boating memories. Sometimes the best moments are the ones you never planned.

Our view the next morning

Dolphins at Hilton Head, South Carolina

On our way north, we stopped at Hilton Head and anchored in peaceful Shelter Cove. Kayakers drifted by throughout the day, and the calm surroundings gave us the perfect few days of rest.

Then, one quiet evening just before sunset, we heard a loud splash. It sounded like someone had fallen off a kayak! We rushed outside to check.

To our surprise—and delight—it wasn’t a person, but a pod of dolphins! They were swimming close to the banks, clearly in the middle of a lively dinner. We stood there, mesmerized, watching them dive and surface, stirring up fish as they feasted right in front of us.

A front-row seat to nature’s show, no ticket required. Ain't that nice!

Roaches at Daytona Beach, Florida

When hurricane season rolled around, we needed a safe harbor to hunker down —and Daytona Beach fit the bill. We ended up staying there for about three months. We rarely ventured outside after dark. That changed one evening when we were invited to a potluck dinner at the marina lounge. As always, these gatherings were a great way to meet new cruising friends and swap tips on places to eat and explore. The evening was full of laughter, stories, and good food.

Potluck at the boaters' lounge

But the real story started after the potluck.

Walking back along the wooden dock in the dark, we heard something strange: a crunch with every step. We slowed down and glanced at our feet.

Roaches. Dozens of them. Everywhere.

It was, without question, the grossest thing we’ve ever experienced on a dock. We practically tiptoed the rest of the way, trying not to think about it too much.

Back on the boat, our unease turned into full-on paranoia: Could they climb aboard? Unfortunately, the answer was yes. Over the next few days, we started finding roaches onboard. Not many—but enough to freak us out. Clearly, some had used the dock lines as a highway.

After we left that marina and got to our next port-of-call, we bombed the boat. Twice.

Let’s just say, it’s one cruising memory we’ll never forget—and one marina we won’t be in a hurry to revisit. Or at the very least, no more tying up to wooden docks anywhere.

Dragging Anchor at Cocoa Beach, Florida

We have a rule when anchoring: once the hook is set, we stay put for at least 20 minutes—just to make sure it’s holding before leaving the boat. It’s a simple precaution we abided by.

But not this day.

After several days on the move, we dropped anchor near Cocoa Beach. As we did our usual anchoring dance, we noticed a lot of activity along the shoreline—music, people, and a lively buzz. After days at sea, it was tempting. Too tempting.

So we broke our rule.

We left Mai Thai and went ashore to explore. And it was worth it—Cocoa Beach was cute and full of energy. But when we glanced back at the anchorage, something looked... off.

Cocoa Beach anchorage

Mai Thai was in a different spot.

She’d dragged—and was slowly drifting dangerously close to other boats.

We didn’t say a word. Just ran, jumped in the dinghy. Fired it up and raced back. What followed was pure adrenaline: one of us tying off the dinghy, the other starting the engine. We got her moved and reset anchor just in time.

Crisis averted—but barely.
Lesson learned: even one shortcut on the water can turn into a wake-up call.

Dockside vows, fishing tales, Fort Pierce, Florida

We spent a couple of months at Fort Pierce City Marina, a short drive to our friend's condo and enjoying the laid-back vibe. The marina sits near the inlet, so fishing is a big deal here—you can often spot sheepshead and other fish swimming around the boat. One day, a little girl even reeled in a fish bigger than she was!

Our neighbor reeled this one.

During our stay, we met all sorts of interesting people—including John Houghtaling, the inventor of Magic Fingers (yes, the famous vibrating motel beds). He was living aboard his Bluewater, also named Magic Fingers.

John

We got invited to a barefoot (literally) wedding. On the dock.

The wedding party

Here comes the bride; one of the birds is a ring bearer

The best part?
The ring bearer was a parrot.

Only in Florida.

The happy couple

Exploring the South: Fun, Friends, and Finally Moving On

We spent 18 years tied up just outside Chattanooga, Tennessee—specifically in a rural town called Guild (population: around 500, last we checked). It might seem like an unlikely place to stay so long, and no, it wasn’t because of the Dam Marina—which, truth be told, was the worst marina we’ve ever stayed at.

What kept us there was everything around it: the beautiful stretch of the Tennessee River known as Nickajack Lake, the nearby mountains, and the easy drive to both Chattanooga and Nashville. But more than that, it was the people—the vibrant community of friendly boaters who made those early years so special.

The first decade there was filled with fun, laughter, and a floating neighborhood of great folks. Over time, many moved on—selling their boats or relocating to new marinas. We miss some of those friends, but we’re also grateful for the memories and even more glad to finally be “outtathere.”

Sailing Zebulon – Newport, R.I. to Solomons, Md

While cruising the Chesapeake Bay the summer of 2001, we got a call from new sailing friends who needed an extra hand moving their 47' Catalina, Zebulon, from Newport, Rhode Island to Solomons, Maryland. We jumped at the chance—Newport is one of our favorite ports, and we had planned to spend the summer there. That’s why Mai Thai carries Newport as her hailing port.

The five-day trip was cold, fast, and unforgettable.

One of the most memorable moments came as we navigated the East River through New York City. We hit the current just right at Hell Gate, and Zebulon surged to 12.4 knots—a record for her. We were the only pleasure boat in sight, the river ahead wide open, and the view of FDR Drive—bumper-to-bumper with cars—felt surreal from the water.

Just before sunset, we reached the city. The Manhattan skyline, aglow in golden light, and the Statue of Liberty silhouetted against the horizon—it was breathtaking. We were busy snapping photos when a small Coast Guard patrol boat appeared, lights flashing.

We’d unknowingly entered a secured harbor—closed to recreational vessels from sunset to sunrise due to post-9/11 restrictions. With our radio off and theirs down, we ended up shouting back and forth. Thankfully, we were near the Verrazzano Bridge, and after explaining, they allowed us to continue.

It was a powerful reminder that boating brings freedom, beauty, and plenty of surprises.