We cruised south of Marco Island to Panther Key, where there are no settlements on land, and nothing but mangroves as far as the eye can see.
The weather promised to be a sailor’s delight, with the red sunset.
But the morning wasn’t good for any kind of navigation, as the fog made seeing even the shoreline an eyestrain.
Here’s the only other boat at anchor, Life’s Too Short. Once the fog lifted, it was fine for exploring.
We dinghied to Hog Key, for the Florida Crown Conch shells we like to collect.
The beaches are interspersed with red mangroves. They hold the soil in place, and creep ever outward by sending down “tentacle” roots into the salt water.
The next day, as we headed north along the Gulf coast, we saw parasailers enjoying the fine breeze. We headed for Smokehouse Bay at Marco Island.
We cruised south of Marco Island to Panther Key, where there are no settlements on land, and nothing but mangroves as far as the eye can see.
The weather promised to be a sailor’s delight, with the red sunset.
But the morning wasn’t good for any kind of navigation, as the fog made seeing even the shoreline an eyestrain.
Here’s the only other boat at anchor, Life’s Too Short. Once the fog lifted, it was fine for exploring.
We dinghied to Hog Key, for the Florida Crown Conch shells we like to collect.
The beaches are interspersed with red mangroves. They hold the soil in place, and creep ever outward by sending down “tentacle” roots into the salt water.
The next day, as we headed north along the Gulf coast, we saw parasailers enjoying the fine breeze. We headed for Smokehouse Bay at Marco Island.
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