The name is Bond.

• 9:18 – 16:17
• 44.41 NM
• 6h 59m
• 6.4 kts avg speed

On this leg, we got a special treat: not only did we get to clean up and eat proper, we got to hang out with the previous owners of Jacie Sails.

(Didn’t hear about how I lost the vessel for 35 days after Hurricane Milton…and found her again? Check out the audio podcast here.)

The Day’s Travels

After leaving Moss Marina we picked our way (cautiously again) out Matanzas Pass at the northwest end of Estero Island, into San Carlos Bay, and up toward the Sanibel Causeway Bridge at its east end at Punta Rossa. There was a lot of handing the binoculars to Our Friend Bill—and some major interest in the markers—thanks to the shallow depth of the bay and our lack of a depth sounder. (And a number of turns around invisible shallows.)

The Sanibel Causeway was the first bridge we passed under on this trip, and Bill got to experience the uneasy sensation of looking up at the mast as it seems certain to strike the underside of the bridge. It doesn’t matter if you have ten feet of clearance (as in our case). It always looks like it’s gonna scrape.

After you pass under the bridge, it looks like you could just cut straight across into Pine Island Sound. But you’d be wrong. Nope, you need to keep heading north another couple of miles before you can bear southwest into the narrow channel near some unnamed keys.

This is where our crack legal team reminds me that under no circumstances should you take navigational advice from me…which this most certainly is not.

In the channel between Merwin Key and the ironically-named Big Island, we stole a couple of dolphins from the motorboaters (it seems they like our wake, or something), and they stuck with is for a few minutes, surfacing to port or starboard of the cockpit as it suited them.

Want to get more timely updates, plus cool perks, and help keep How Not To Sail afloat for as little as $3 a month? Join the How Not To Sail Patreon Crew!

We passed under the overhead power line between Pine Island and Sanibel a while after that; and by 12:57, we were passing Cabbage Key. I hated not to stop at one of my favorite places, but we could see lunchtime was the usual clusterf— for a cruising sailboat; and we needed to press on, anyway.

(Lunchtime is the busiest time for Cabbage Key. You can only get there by ferry, or your own boat, or a helicopter. Lunchtime combines all of these arrivals—other than helicopter—whereas breakfasts and dinners tend to be just folks staying at the small inn, or on their boats.)

Up Charlotte Harbor

Around 1:30, we rounded Marker 76 and turned northeast up Charlotte Harbor. We’d been making great time all morning with the flood tide; and now at slack tide and no wind to speak of, we motored up the huge (and shallow) bay on glassy smooth water, and minus all the boat traffic we’d had in the ICW.

Once again, since we didn’t have a depth sounder, I paid careful attention to the chartplotter and the markers. The harbor is about 5 miles wide and 18 miles deep; but other than at the mouth near Boca Grande, it’s rarely more than 15 feet deep. With local knowledge (and a soft bottom), we could probably sail all around the joint; but I stuck with the markers and made sure to avoid the shoals near Cape Haze.

I’d been to Burnt Store Marina (a fine, place, I definitely recommend) up in Charlotte Harbor a couple of times (including with The Admiral), but never made it as far as Punta Gorda. Our friends Thomas and Lisa live on a canal off Ponce de Leon Park inlet, and they provided explicit instructions on how to get in.

The puckering part is, my chart shows a depth of 4 feet coming through the narrow mangrove channel after Ponce de Leon Park. Of course, that’s at “Mean Low Lower Water”—whatever the hell that means—but since we draw over 5 feet, we proceeded very slowly until we got into the canal.

The Name Is Bond

So, you may know, either from the book or the podcast, that I bought Jacie Sails back in 2012, when she was up on the lake near Atlanta.

At that time, the boat was named Bond’s Voyage, after the owners, Thomas and Lisa Bond. They were selling her because they bought an even larger sailboat—a Beneteau with a dark blue hull.

And guess what boat was waiting for us when we pulled up to the Bond’s neighbor’s dock?

That’s right. Thomas and Lisa refer to their new(er), bigger boat as “Bond’s Voyage (the Blue),” and to my boat as “Bond’s Voyage (the White)“.

And even though I renamed the vessel Jacie Sails, we still share a bond with the Bonds.

Okay, bad puns aside… Lisa had weighed in from time to time via email and in comments on HowNotToSail.com, even before this latest misadventure. And when she and Thomas found out that I’d not only lost but then also found “Bond’s Voyage (the White),” they invited me to stop by on the way north, along with my crew. (That’d be Our Friend Bill, in this case.)

And so, after navigating the mangrove channel and getting to the dock, Thomas and Lisa treated us to not only shore power, laundry and much-needed showers, but also a home-cooked spaghetti dinner! (Thomas is quite the chef.)

Thomas also kept threatening to take all our money in billiards, but thankfully he was really just interested in me and Bill losing. Thomas has one of the awesomest high-ceilinged man-caves I’ve ever experienced: a pool table, flight sim, classic LP covers on the walls (with classic music to go with ’em), and a fridge stocked with beer. What could possibly go wrong?

In the morning, Thomas whipped up a huge omelette, bacon and biscuit breakfast, and then I grabbed some interview audio with both Thomas and Lisa (which you can bet will show up on  the podcast soon). Then they loaded us up with ham sandwiches, crackers and cheese, soup and chili (just in case), apples, and all kinda provisions.

It was Thanksgiving Day, you see. And I believe that was the best ham sandwich I’ve ever had. (A close contender being the ones The Admiral and I bought at a little bodega in Fajardo when we were taking a sailing class.)

Because it’s not about the ingredients. Sometimes it’s about good friends and enjoying the moment.