It had been several years since we last cruised around Tampa Bay. Earlier this week, we had the opportunity to get back out on the water. We set sail from Harborage Marina, just south of downtown St. Pete, on a beautiful summer afternoon.
The day was hot, sunny, and absolutely perfect for boating. With the sparkling waters of Tampa Bay stretching out around us, it was easy to settle into that relaxed feeling that only a day on the water can bring.
The highlight of the afternoon came when several dolphins appeared alongside the boat. They seemed to be having just as much fun as we were, playing in the water and riding the wake right at the bow. Watching them glide through the waves just feet away was one of those unexpected moments that makes a day on the bay unforgettable.
Thanks to my SIL, we got a close-up look at a dolphin! 🐬
Being back in St. Pete also brought back memories from another time on the water.
Back in 2005, we anchored in the Vinoy Basin while on our way to New Orleans. We had planned to spend some time cruising the area, but our plans quickly changed when the generator broke down. What initially felt like an annoying mechanical problem turned out to be a blessing in disguise. We stayed in Florida until the following summer.
That August, New Orleans was devastated by Category 5 Hurricane Katrina. Looking back, we're incredibly grateful that we never made it there. What seemed like an unfortunate setback at the time may have kept us exactly where we needed to be.
We still have the nautical charts from that planned cruise. Every time we see them, we're reminded of how differently things can unfold—and how sometimes, the things that seem to go wrong can lead to a much better outcome than we ever could have imagined.
St Pete skyline, with mooring balls at the Vinoy Basin
Sadly, the iconic inverted-pyramid pier we remembered from earlier visits is no longer there—it was demolished in 2015. The waterfront has changed over the years, but there are still plenty of familiar sights and new discoveries along the way.
We never get tired of the creativity—and sheer playfulness—people put into naming their boats. Some names make you chuckle, while others make you stop and admire the cleverness. In Boston, we loved a catamaran called Cats Aweigh, whose dinghy was cleverly named Mouse Play. You have to appreciate a boat owner with a sense of humor! In Beaufort, South Carolina, we passed a sailboat called She Got the House every day. It was loaded with a bicycle, a motorcycle, and all sorts of fun toys. Every time we saw it, we laughed. Clearly, someone had lost an argument—and gained a very well-equipped sailboat!
As we made our way back to Harborage Marina, a few boats caught our attention. Their names were simply too good not to photograph and share!
Our friends' Fountaine Pajot catamaran was called One Love
Our latest cruise around St. Pete’s waterfront was a much happier chapter. Beautiful views, warm sunshine, playful dolphins, and a few moments of reflection made for a memorable day on Tampa Bay.
After being away for so long, it was great to be back. And if this trip is any indication, we’re already looking forward to our next adventure on the water.
St. Pete has come a long way from its old reputation as “God’s Waiting Room.” We were smitten with downtown St. Pete the first time we dropped anchor at the North Yacht Basin years ago. Even then, it exuded a small-town charm, with everything just a short stroll or boat ride away.
Since those early visits, the city has blossomed into a vibrant destination brimming with art, culture, and an unmistakable coastal energy. Today, St. Pete pulses with creativity—alive with music, craft breweries, and a youthful energy that rivals any major coastal hotspot. The Central Arts District bursts with murals, galleries, and cozy cafés where locals and travelers mingle. The iconic Dalí Museum remains a must-see, as does the mesmerizing Chihuly Collection. New cultural landmarks like the Museum of the American Arts and Crafts Movement and the Imagine Museum have further cemented St. Pete’s reputation as a true haven for art lovers.
The new pier opened in 2020
North Yacht Basin
The Vinoy Hotel and Marina
Looking at St. Pete downtown from the new pier (2020)
looking at St. Pete downtown from the old pier (2009)
Old Inverted Pyramid Pier (1973-2013, demolished in 2015)
Just last Saturday, St. Pete celebrated the new Pier’s fifth birthday with a stunning drone show lighting up the night sky.
The city is best explored on foot or by bike, where every corner reveals a new surprise. Its flat, sun-drenched streets and scenic waterfront paths make getting around effortless, inviting visitors to slow down and soak in the local vibe. The culinary scene is equally captivating—rooftop bars offer sweeping views of Tampa Bay, while tucked-away eateries serve up fresh Gulf seafood and inventive, globally inspired dishes. St. Pete has truly evolved into a foodie destination. The vibe is relaxed yet refined, adventurous but never pretentious—a perfect reflection of the city itself.
Whether you arrive by boat, car, or for a spontaneous weekend getaway, St. Pete feels like one of Florida’s best-kept secrets — a city that’s rediscovered itself without ever losing its coastal charm.
Have you been to St. Pete?
What were your favorite spots to eat, explore, or just relax by the water? Drop them in the comments below—your insider tips might just inspire someone’s next great Tampa Bay adventure. 🌴✨
This five-year-old photo popped up in our Facebook Memories yesterday and brought back such a sweet moment. Our cousin and her family were visiting, so we took them out on Mai Thai for a relaxing boat ride. We tied up at Shellmound Picnic Area, where they took the kayaks out for a paddle while we set up a simple picnic on the boat. A perfect day on the water, with plenty of sunshine, laughter and great company. Just a simple, happy memory we’ll always cherish.
The last time we took Mai Thai out for a spin was in late September of last year. It was a calm weekday afternoon, and the river was almost entirely ours — hardly another boat in sight.
Leaving the marina
The weather was perfect — warm but not hot, with that hint of early autumn in the air. The hills surrounding the river were just beginning to show a touch of fall color.
A hint of fall colors
Heading up river towards the TN River Gorge
View from inside the boat
Usually, by this time of year, flocks of coots would be arriving from the north, their chattering calls echoing across the water. But we didn’t see any that day. Instead, a few cormorants stood sentinel on the riverside rocks, one with wings outstretched in the sun.
cormorants
It’s moments like these that remind us why we fell in love with boating in the first place. No schedule. Just us, the river, and nature putting on a quiet show. We snapped a few photos to remember the day — not knowing it would be our last ride on Mai Thai.
Life gets busy. Boats change hands. Seasons come and go. But the memories stay with us.
Looking back, we’re just grateful for all the good times Mai Thai gave us — the laughter, the sunsets, the solitude at anchor, and the camaraderie at the marinas. The shared moments on the water.
She was more than just a boat. She was part of our story.
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.
John
A retired eye doctor and his teacher fiancée invited us to their barefoot (literally) wedding. On the dock.
The wedding party
Here comes the bride; one of the birds is a ring bearer
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