In May, we set out on a road trip from Chattanooga, TN to New England. Our mission was threefold: reconnect with friends and family in the Boston area, attend a college reunion, and eat—specifically, Chinese food and seafood.
Our first meal was at Mulan in Cambridge—our longtime favorite for Taiwanese food. Big mistake! It was graduation week. Getting there was a crawl through stop-and-go traffic.
Driving through Kendall Square brought back a wave of nostalgia. I used to work there, just a stone’s throw from MIT. But with all the new buildings, biotech offices, and ongoing construction, it’s barely recognizable. Then again, it has been almost twenty-five years. One thing that hasn’t changed is the unpredictable New England weather. This spring was unseasonably cold—classic Boston. Still, the chill didn’t faze the college kids. Bundled up, they were out on the Charles River, tacking sailboats that bobbed in the wind-chopped water.
I didn’t think to take photos of the traffic mayhem, but I did snap a couple shots of the delicious food at Mulan.
Stir fry beef with hot peppers, our favorite dish at Mulan
Eggplant with basil
We enjoyed a leisurely walk around Boston one sunny day.
Public Garden, location of the 1970 movie "Love Story"
Swan boat in the Public Garden
Old South Church on Boylston St, Copley Square
Boston Marathon finish line, where the 2013 bombing occurred.
We spent a few days in York, Maine, devouring seafood: lobsters, steamers, and spiny crab. Everything was fresh and sweet —a feast we’re still thinking about.
our first time, and we were not impressed
Steamers, one of our favorite seafood
Reunion week was filled with laughter, long-overdue catch-ups, and wandering around campus and Boston. It’s always a little surreal to see how much — and how little — everyone has changed over the years.
Our go-to restaurant for dim sum and seafood dinner is at Ming's Seafood in Malden.
Good hand cut noodles at Kung Fu Kitchen, Coolidge Corner, Brookline
One of the things we really miss in Florida is good Chinese food. We haven’t found a place in the Tampa Bay area that we’d go back to again and again. So while we were in New England, we made it a point to eat as much of it as possible.
Here are some other restaurants we sampled on this trip:
Noah’s Kitchen in Brookline Village – if you're into spicy Sichuan food, this place is for you.
South Garden in Quincy – Classic Cantonese dishes. The chicken with garlic was especially good.
Dumpling Xuan in East Cambridge – great soup dumplings and excellent scallion pancakes.
Dynasty in Boston Chinatown - classic Cantonese cuisine and dim sum.
Every place had a wait (especially on the weekend), but totally worth it. If you’re in the Boston area and love Asian food, definitely check these places out. And if you have a favorite spot we should try next time, let us know — we’re always looking for new places to add to our list!
After nearly 25 years of cruising and living aboard our boat, our logbook is pack with memories. Some come rushing back with the sight of boats at anchor 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 reminds us just how grateful we are for this life afloat.
Manatees and Sunsets at Marathon Key, Florida
One February, we docked at Marathon Marina, just before the iconic Seven
Mile Bridge. While it doesn't have the buzz of Key West, Marathon has its own quiet charm
— great restaurants, reliable boatyards, and a friendly, laid-back cruising
community. Many cruisers stop here, waiting for a good weather window to cross
to the Bahamas or Central America. It's also an easy hop to Key West and nearby
islands.
During our stay, we tackled a few boat projects: added a second anchor and installed a Weaver davit system for the dinghy. But what we remember most from that stop are the sunsets… and the manatees.
Each evening, rain or shine, cruisers gathered on the docks with drinks in hand to watch the sky erupt in brilliant oranges, pinks, and purples. It wasn’t just a sunset — it was a shared ritual that brought everyone together.
And then there were the manatees.
One afternoon, while doing dishes, we felt a gentle bump against the hull. Curious, we stepped outside and spotted a manatee sipping from our sink drain! After that, we’d leave the water running just a bit — and sure enough, they’d return for another drink. Watching these peaceful giants float beside our boat was pure joy.
It’s these small, unexpected moments — the quiet rituals and wild encounters — that make life on the water unforgettable.
Stormy Skies Over Yorktown, Virginia
While docked at Tidewater
Yacht Marina in Portsmouth, we met new sailing friends aboard Kalaha and
cruised together up the York River to historic Yorktown. We anchored near
the bridge and took our 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 scrambled to relaunch the
dinghy. Battling the wind and chop, we pushed off the beach with all our
strength. We made it back, drenched —along with our brand-new cell phone, which
had been tucked in one of our pockets.
Back aboard, the
wind picked up quickly. Just to be safe, the captain let out all 250 feet of
anchor line. Thanks to that extra scope, we rode out the storm safely and
comfortably. Later, Kalaha radioed to report they had clocked the wind speed at 43
knots (47.3 mph). Wild!
When in doubt, let out more scope.
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 the weather had other plans. After a
bumpy night at anchor, we decided to skip the lighthouse tour and head back
toward Beaufort in search of calmer waters.
After we cleared the Beaufort Inlet, we started scouting for a safe place
to drop the hook. That’s when we discovered Shackleford Banks—apparently a favorite with
local boaters. Small boats dotted the shoreline, beached in the soft sand. We
found a peaceful spot away from the crowd, dropped anchor, and settled in.
Mai Thai (far back, left) joining in the fun
Gorgeous sunset at Shackleford Banks
The rest of the day was spent people-watching and exploring. As the tide receded, sand patches appeared like little islands. We dinghied over and found several beautiful shells (whelks) — though we chose just one, as a special keepsake to mark our anniversary. The next morning brought an even sweeter
surprise: a group of wild horses strolling along the beach, passing a grounded
boat like it was part of the scenery. We watched in awe from the cockpit,
sipping our coffee.
What began as a detour turned into one of our
favorite boating memories. And sometimes the best moments are the ones you never planned.
Dolphins at Hilton Head, South Carolina
One April, 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 evening, just before sunset, we heard a loud splash.
We rushed outside to see what it was—and to our
delight, a pod of dolphins had arrived. They were swimming close to shore,
herding a school of fish into the shallows. We stood there, completely
mesmerized, watching them stir the water as they worked together to feed.
It felt like a front-row seat to nature’s
private show—no ticket required. Ain’t that nice?
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. We would run into these cruisers again and again as we navigated up and down the Eastern seaboard.
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.
Back on the boat, our unease turned into paranoia: Could they climb aboard? We didn't see any. But just as we were settling into bed, I spotted something moving across the floor. I
let out a scream so loud my husband called it a "Memorex moment." The roach froze. I didn’t. I
sent him straight to Walmart—at midnight—for bug spray and a bomb.
The next morning, we took the boat across the
Halifax River, anchored out, set off the bug bomb, dinghied ashore and spent the entire day outside. They had used the dock lines to get aboard, so we treated them with bug spray.
Let’s just say, it’s one cruising memory we’ll never forget—and we will stay away from wooden docks, if we can help it.
Dragging Anchor at Cocoa
Beach, Florida
We have a simple rule when anchoring: once the hook is set, we
stay aboard for at least 30 minutes to make sure it’s holding. 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
went through our usual anchoring routine, we noticed a lot happening on
shore—music, people, a lively, beach-town buzz. It looked too fun to miss… so
we broke our rule.
We left Mai
Thai and went ashore to explore. And it was worth it—Cocoa Beach was charming and full of energy. After a couple of hours, we were ready to go back to the boat.
Cocoa Beach anchorage
When we glanced back at the anchorage, Mai Thai was in a different spot. She’d
dragged, and was dangerously close to other boats. Adrenaline kicked in. We ran, jumped in the dinghy, fired it up and raced
back to the boat. One of us tied off the dinghy, the other climbed aboard, unlocked the door and started the engines. We got the boat moved and reset
anchor just in time.
Lesson learned: never break your anchoring rules. They exist for a reason.
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. 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.
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 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 surrounding mountains, and the easy drive to the tri-cities of Atlanta, Chattanooga and Nashville. But most of all, it was the people—the warm, tight-knit community of boaters who made those early years unforgettable.
That first decade was a blast—filled with laughter, potlucks, impromptu dock parties, and a floating neighborhood full of good friends. But like all things, it changed. Over time, many moved on, sold their boats, or relocated to better marinas. Slowly, the community we loved began to fade.
We miss those days and the people who made them special. But we’re incredibly grateful for the memories—and even more glad to finally be outtathere.
Our legendary potluck dinners and parties, thanks to Glenda and Steve
Dockside vows, fishing tales, Fort Pierce, Florida
We spent a couple of months at Fort Pierce City Marina, just a short drive from our friend’s condo. The marina sits near the Fort Pierce Inlet, where strong currents sweep through, bringing with them a variety of marine life... including sharks!
Fishing is a big deal here. Local tournaments are common, and plenty of nearby restaurants will even cook your catch for you. On any given day, you can spot sheepshead and other fish swimming alongside the boat, making it feel like you’re docked in your own private aquarium.
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 Magic Fingers, his Bluewater yacht.
After nearly 25 years, we said goodbye to Mai Thai. It's truly the end of an era.
We're grateful to all the family and friends who visited us along the way, braved the seas (and our cooking), and helped fill Mai Thai with laughter, chaos, and some pretty epic tales.
Mai Thai at Shellmound, TN River (Lake Nickajack)
There were countless unforgettable moments. These are some of the top ones - shared in no particular order:
1. Salt Spray and Rough Seas – Cruising North at Cape Canaveral, Florida
We picked up Mai Thai in early March 2001. After prepping and provisioning, we departed Fort Lauderdale with a seasoned captain aboard. By day two, we were on our own - completely green and learning on the fly as we navigated a bigger boat through unfamiliar Southern waters.
Off Cape Canaveral, things got real. The seas kicked up fast, with waves hammering the hull and salt spray blasting all the way to the flybridge, where it dried into a gritty white crust. We endured nearly two hours of pounding swells and nerves-on-edge steering before finally ducking into Ponce Inlet, in the protected calm of the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW). It was wild, dramatic, and marked the true beginning of our great adventure.
Cruising through Georgia in March felt like we had the entire ICW to ourselves—until a lonely Coast Guard boat pulled us over for some company (and an inspection). Fortunately, we passed inspection—no contraband, no trouble. Without charts for the ICW, we were puzzled by a range marker until the Coast Guard circled back and kindly helped us out. Lesson learned!
3. Rocking and Rolling at Jekyll Island, Georgia
We stayed at the beautiful Jekyll Harbor Marina one summer. One calm, sunny day, we took friends out for a cruise. Feeling relaxed (and a little overconfident), we didn’t secure anything below deck. Bad call. Crossing Jekyll Sound, beaming seas had Mai Thai rocking—books, the TV, and a bottle of J&B went flying! Minutes later, all was calm. No injuries, no broken glass. Just a lot of laughing and a few bruised egos.
Shrimp boat near Jekyll, Georgia
4. Fuel Dock Drama – Charleston, South Carolina
After fueling up at Ashley Marina, the dockhand gave us a cheerful wave and let go of our lines... just as a swift current grabbed hold of Mai Thai and sent her hurtling backward toward a concrete bridge piling. With no time to spare, we gunned the throttle and narrowly avoided disaster. One of those adrenaline-filled moments that sticks with you forever.
5. Meltdown in the Capital - Washington, D.C.
We pulled into James Creek Marina and plugged in... and promptly fried every appliance onboard. No A/C. No fridge. Just sweat. Lots of sweat. Naturally, D.C. was in the middle of a brutal August heat wave. Thankfully, an electrician came to the rescue the next day. Bonus: we met our dock neighbor - a young guy living aboard his sailboat (despite not knowing how to sail!) He worked for a senator and graciously offered us a private tour of the U.S. Capitol. Totally unexpected, totally unforgettable.
Thanks to boating neighbor Eric, we got a private tour
6. Solomons, Maryland - Crabs, Chestnuts, & a World Forever Changed
After D.C. we cruised to Solomons, where Town Center Marina welcomed us with potlucks, movie nights and a deep sense of camaraderie. It was here, on a quiet September morning that we learned of the 9/11 attacks. Like so many, we stood in shock, eyes glued to the news, struggling to process the world-shifting events unfolding before us. That day changed everything - and we are grateful to be surrounded by a kind, supportive community to help us make sense of it all.
Life went on quietly. We were introduced to a crab house and ate more blue crabs than we thought possible - absolutely delicious! Every time our guest tried to fish, they caught crabs instead. And one unexpected delight: we discovered wild chestnut trees nearby and picked them fresh from the source - simple pleasures, shared in good company, during a time the world will never forget.
American chestnuts
7. Bumped in Wrightsville Beach, N.Carolina
Heading south for the winter, we anchored at a packed Wrightsville Beach, near the Masonboro Inlet. Late in the evening, a Canadian sailboat squeezed in and dropped anchor a bit too close for comfort. We were wary, but respectful—especially of fellow sailors who'd come a long way. The next morning—BANG!—they hit us. Thankfully, there was no damage—just a tough lesson for the Canadian crew on anchor scope and the power of tidal currents. One of many anchoring dramas that made cruising interesting.
We were lucky to catch Fort Lauderdale’s famous holiday boat parade—a dazzling spectacle of lights and cheer on the water. Several years later, over on Florida’s Gulf side in Cape Coral, we anchored in Bimini Basin, and was aboard our friends' boat Chandelle just as the festive boats came streaming by. What a magical sight!
Boat Parade at Fort Lauderdale (near Isle of Venice/Las Olas area)
Bimini Basin, Cape Coral
9. Miami Mayhem – Stiltsville to Elliot Key
In Miami, we cruised past the historic houses of Stiltsville and explored Boca Chita Key. When we got to Elliot Key, we were the only boat—until a crowd arrived, and things got wild (skinny-dipping included). Later, a speedboat grounded hard on a nearby sandbar with a thunderous crash. It took hours (and a towboat) to set them free!
Stiltsville
Mai Thai at Boca Chita Key
10. Snorkeling & Aerial Views at Lynyard Cay, Bahamas
Long before drones were in every traveler's toolkit, we found ourselves capturing epic views the old-fashioned way—by climbing the mast.
In April 2003, we cruised to the Abacos with friends we’d met at Jekyll Island. The water was impossibly clear - you could see straight down twenty feet, every coral head and patch of white sand perfectly visible.
While anchored off Lynyard Cay, we dinghied over to nearby Sandy Cay, part of the Bahamian National Trust, for a snorkeling session. Beneath the surface, the reef came alive—vibrant corals, darting tropical fish, and an underwater world so pristine it felt untouched.
Later, back aboard our boats, the captain was hoisted up the mast of our buddy boat One Love (bucket list: checked) to capture a sweeping panoramic shot of Mai Thai anchored in paradise. It was one of those rare, perfect days when everything feels like a dream.
First mates of Mai Thai and One Love
11. Captain Overboard - Barefoot Landing, S. Carolina
This popular spot used to offer three nights of free docking, drawing boaters from everywhere. It was lively and social—right next to a mall. One morning, as a neighboring sailboat was leaving, our captain tried to push her off from Mai Thai, leaned too far, and splashed right into the water. A gator had been spotted the day before. You've never seen anyone swim so fast to get back on the swim platform.
A megayacht grounded at Lockwoods Folly, not far from Barefoot Landing
12. Baltimore, Maryland - Irish Tunes & New Friends
We spent August 2004 at Anchorage Marina, a fantastic spot with great amenities: a cozy lounge with pool and ping-pong tables, clean restrooms, an outdoor pool, and was just a short walk to shops and Baltimore's vibrant Inner Harbor.
We met a great mix of fellow boaters there—some of whom we’d later cruise with all the way to Florida and even Tennessee. One evening, we all headed over to nearby Patterson Park for a free outdoor concert. The headliner? None other than Baltimore’s then-mayor, Martin O’Malley, playing Irish music with his band. It was one of those unexpected, magical nights—great music, good company, and a dash of “Only in Baltimore” charm. We’re big fans of Irish music, so the whole experience felt like a little gift from the city.
OMalley's March at Patterson Park
We also spent time with cruising friends Bill and Joy of Chandelle , along with their friend Mike, a retired pilot boat captain living aboard Mi-T-Mo, a converted military transport vessel. Together, we enjoyed boat rides to the bustling Inner Harbor (great live music and food at Phillips Restaurant) and Fells Point, a waterfront neighborhood steeped in maritime history and full of charm.
Chandelle
Bonus Memory: Ritzy Naples, Florida
While cruising from Marathon to Punta Gorda one February, we anchored in the upscale canals of Naples. During the day, we cruised around in the dinghy, taking our time as we passed by gorgeous waterfront homes and got a little taste of the high-end lifestyle from the water.
Exploring the swanky canal of Naples
Jon and Peggy on Island Time
That evening, our buddy boat friends from Island Time joined us for dinner aboard. It was a great night—good food, plenty of laughs, and the kind of easy camaraderie that makes cruising life so special. On their way back in the dark, the poor first mate misjudged a step while boarding the boat from the dinghy. Luckily, she didn't fall in, but her scream lit up every fancy mansion along the canal. We were mortified ... but it makes a great story now.
To everyone who was part of this wild, salty, unforgettable ride: thank you. Mai Thai may be cruising on with new owners, but the stories—and friendships—stay with us forever.
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